#artificial ice rinks

[icemagicsynthetic]

Why Artificial Ice Skating Rinks Are a Game-Changer for Events

In recent years, artificial ice skating rinks have emerged as an exciting feature for events, transforming the way people experience skating. Whether you’re organizing a corporate function, a holiday event, or a birthday party, synthetic ice rinks bring the magic of ice skating to any location, regardless of weather or season. Here’s a closer look at why artificial ice rinks, like those available from Synthetic Ice Rinks, are changing the game for event planners everywhere.

[barclaygoodrow]

Okay tbh anytime someone uses "fresh ice" as a scent in fanfiction it breaks my immersion. It's frozen water. It doesn't smell like anything. If you smell something it's probably the gas of the edger, the exhaust from the zamboni, locker room stench, or paint, in which case you will not be very happy to smell it

[rinksystems]

High-Quality Artificial Ice Skating Rink & Practice Goals

Discover the perfect artificial ice skating rink by Rink Systems, ideal for training in any season. Our practice goals offer realistic skating and are easy to maintain. Experience top-quality materials designed to enhance your practice sessions. 

[sunrenity]

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME — those fucking rink rats!

SYNOPSIS. you hated all hockey players, to say the least. sim jake hated how you met his gaze with obliviousness, unaware that he was irrevocably captivated by you, who not only deemed love overrated but also harbored a strong dislike for him, all because he was a hockey player.

p hockey player! sim jake x fem!reader  .  ft  enemy!heeseung, twin brother!sunghoon  .  g  hockey player x figure skater, strangers to enemies (one-sided at first) to lovers fluff, college au, pinning  .  w  cussing, blood, swearing, lowercase  .  wc  1726 (1.7k)  .  bookshelf

series masterlistㅤ ㅤ ㅤnextㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

THE COLD AIR NIPPED at your cheeks, painting a rosy hue on your face as you settled onto the frosty seat beside the school's ice rink. the metal bench sent a shiver through you as you began the familiar ritual of securing the laces of your ice skates. yet, you seemed unaware of the aggression in your actions as you tightened them, the sharp metal eyelets clinking with each forceful pull. your visible anger was palpable, a simmering emotion on the verge of boiling over.

the frigid ambiance of the rink surrounded you, the sharp scent of cold air filling your lungs with each inhale. the ice glistened under the artificial lights, a pristine surface awaiting the graceful movements of figure skaters. despite the serene appearance, tension crackled in the air, and it wasn't solely a result of the chilly temperature.

as you meticulously started fastening the second skate, your fingers deftly navigating the familiar loops and hooks, your focus remained on the frosty expanse of the rink before you. the ice gleamed under the rink's artificial lights, promising a canvas for elegant spins and precise jumps in the upcoming training session.

beside you, your twin brother, sunghoon, who's older by a mere three seconds, settled onto the cold bench, his brown hair obscuring a portion of his eyes. the frosty air seemed to mirror the anticipation that lingered between you two. both of you were gearing up for the first day of training on the ice after your initial day of college, a familiar routine amid the transition to a new academic year.

he glanced at you, a curious expression in his eyes, "so, how do you feel about sharing the ice with the hockey players?"

the mere mention of those hockey players sent a shiver down your spine, a visceral reaction to the looming presence of a group you harbored a deep disdain for. it was as if the temperature dropped a few degrees around you, the chill matching the frosty atmosphere of the rink. you shot sunghoon a look, a silent acknowledgment of the shared disdain for the hockey players at your school.

with a heavy sigh, you continued fastening the straps, the cold metal biting into your fingertips. "sharing the ice with those rink rats? ugh, don't even get me started, sunghoon. i can't stand them, and you know that very well," you grumbled, casting a disdainful glance toward the rink. determination etched across your face, you tightened the last strap with precision, as if channeling your frustration into the action.

sunghoon, sensing your frustration, nodded knowingly. his understanding gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shifted his attention to the laces of his own figure skating shoes. "yeah, it's not ideal. but it's just temporary, right? their rink will be fixed soon, and we won't have to deal with them anymore."

despite the reassurance, the thought of enduring their presence for what felt like an eternity irked you. the hockey players' rink had broken over the summer — rumors circulated, hinting at sabotage, possibly orchestrated by rival schools envious of your school's hockey team, who had clinched victory the previous year — leaving the figure skaters with no choice but to share the ice.

"well, you better brace yourself. looks like they're headed our way." sunghoon remarked, his eyes shifting toward the approaching group of hockey players, each one fully geared up and exuding a confidence that bordered on arrogance. the swagger in their steps announced their arrival like a storm on the horizon. an annoyed exchange of glances between you and your brother silently acknowledged the impending clash.

as the hockey players confidently took to the ice, coach baek's voice resonated, breaking the tense atmosphere, "figure skaters, on the ice!" every figure skater, regardless of their sentiments, needed to participate in the shared training.

the contrast between the figure skaters and the hockey players was palpable — the elegant spins and graceful maneuvers of figure skaters clashed starkly with the powerful strides and aggressive moves of the hockey players

reluctantly, you and sunghoon made your way onto the shared ice, the chill seeping through your skates mirroring the frosty atmosphere. as you joined the other figure skaters, you couldn't help but feel a sense of solidarity among your peers – a shared discontentment with the temporary arrangement.

the hockey players, seemingly oblivious to the tension, went about their training with a level of boisterous enthusiasm that grated on your nerves. coach lee, their commanding presence overseeing the training, added to the cacophony as he barked instructions, the contrast to coach baek's composed demeanor striking.

sunghoon gave you an encouraging nod, silently conveying that you both needed to make the best of the situation.

coach baek's authoritative voice rang out, "all right, let's start with spins and jumps. show them what figure skaters are made of!"

you see, the hatred wasn't only between the students; it permeated the very fabric of the ice rink. the two coaches, baek and lee, harbored a mutual disdain for each other.

as you gracefully executed spins and jumps, attempting to maintain composure in the uneasy atmosphere, the unfamiliar tension between figure skaters and hockey players lingered in the air. sunghoon, by your side, mirrored your determination.

mid-spin, the world blurred around you, the rhythmic pattern of your routine momentarily transporting you to a familiar sanctuary. you felt at home, completely immersed in the moment. however, the sanctuary shattered as a sudden, searing impact disrupted your concentration. a hockey puck struck your nose, an intense, sharp pain radiating through your face. the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, and crimson droplets stained the pristine ice beneath you. simultaneously, another puck hit your leg, throwing you off balance, and you found yourself tumbling onto the unforgiving surface.

those fucking rink rats!

shock and discomfort enveloped you as you lay there, momentarily stunned. the cold ice beneath you offered a stark contrast to the warmth of the blood that now trickled down from your injured nose.

amidst the disarray, the atmosphere became charged with tension. heeseung, seemingly reveling in the chaos, wore a smug smirk that spoke volumes of satisfaction. beside him, a nervous-looking boy with jet-black hair that fell in messy waves over his forehead — who you had never seen before, not to mention — hesitated for a moment before breaking away from heeseung's side. ignoring the leader of the hockey players, he rushed towards you, concern etched on his face.

heeseung's condescending remarks echoed, "accidents happen, figure skater. maybe watch where you're spinning next time." his words only fueled the anger within you, but the black-haired boy seemed genuinely apologetic, his eyes reflecting a sense of regret.

the figure skaters, including sunghoon, shot disapproving glares at heeseung, demanding respect. the black-haired boy knelt beside you, offering a tentative hand, "i'm sorry about that. are you okay?"

your initial pride fueled a refusal, and you scoffed at the black-haired boy's attempt to help. the disdain for hockey players echoed in your mind, and you tried to rise independently, determined to maintain your composure. his extended hand hung in the air momentarily before you slapped it away with a curt gesture, resisting any form of assistance.

"i don't need your help," you said, your glare aimed at him, your words a defiant assertion of independence.

yet, as you tried to rise, the pain in your leg intensified, sending a jolt of discomfort through your body. stubbornness gave way to necessity, and reluctantly, you conceded. the boy, undeterred by your initial rejection, gently offered his support once more. his expression sincere as he insisted, "let me help you. it's the least i can do."

sighing in reluctant acceptance, you finally yielded to the black-haired boy's outstretched hand. the texture of his palm against yours was surprisingly warm. his grip was unexpectedly strong as he helped you up, guiding you to a sitting position on the bench.

the disapproval in sunghoon's eyes intensified, a silent commentary on the compromise you had made. his gaze held a mix of concern for your well-being and displeasure at the necessity of accepting help from an unexpected source.

heeseung, too, watched with disdain, his upper lip curled in a scoffing expression as the black-haired boy assisted you. his eyes bore into the scene, a silent commentary on his lack of empathy.

"i'm really sorry. i didn't mean for that to happen," the black-haired boy reiterated.

his gaze flickered towards heeseung briefly, as if seeking approval or reassurance, but was only met with a cold glare.

with a gulp, he added, "uhm, i could bring you to the school's nursing room, if you want? you do have a nursing room, right?"

despite your lingering reservations, the unexpected kindness and genuine remorse in the black-haired boy's demeanor left you conflicted. you hesitated for a moment, glancing at sunghoon, who nodded subtly, silently agreeing to accept the offer of assistance.

with a reluctant nod, you consented to let him guide you to the school's nursing room "yeah, sure. the nursing room is... that way," you gestured vaguely, realizing that the black-haired boy likely had no idea where it was.

as he took a step closer to help you stand, his hands found a secure grip on your upper arms, offering both support and stability. his touch was unexpectedly gentle, fingers firm yet careful as he assisted you in getting back on your feet.

a sharp pang of pain in your leg reminded you of the injury, but the black-haired boy's steadying presence provided a counterbalance. his hands, now subtly adjusting to support your waist, guided you towards the exit of the ice rink. your arm instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking additional support and maintaining balance.

meanwhile, sunghoon approached the unfamiliar hockey player, his initial skepticism palpable. "hey, thanks for helping my sister. i'm sunghoon, by the way," he said, eyeing the boy cautiously.

the tension between figure skaters and hockey players lingered, and sunghoon couldn't completely let his guard down.

the boy nodded, offering a genuine smile, "no problem. i'm jake, new to the college and the hockey team. once again, i didn't mean for any of this to happen."

sunghoon's skepticism softened slightly at jake's introduction, appreciating the courtesy. "well, thanks anyway. keep an eye on heeseung, though. he can be trouble."

taglist ,ㅤ @nyfwyeonjun @sakiimeo @makiswrld @143ikeu @psh-pjh

© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

[rowdyhughesy]

The story of us - Cole Caufield

“ I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn’t something about you at all. It was just you “

- anon

word count: 1.7K

I. The day you met

It's been months since you first got to UW, yet this is the first hockey game you've ever attended. You liked hockey but had decided at the beginning of the semester that you were going to focus on school -parties if you felt like it-  it had taken some convincing from your roommates but ultimately you had agreed.

Dressed in a Wisconsin sweater and hat to keep warm you trail along behind your friends. Their loud chatter disguising the sound of skates and sticks on ice, the cold air of the rink biting at your cheeks.

"Y/N come on our seats are over here." One of your friends grabs your hand tugging you forward as if you're in a rush when in reality warmups aren't even over yet.

Seated closest to ice in the student section you just take in the atmosphere. Pucks slamming against the boards, players dressed in cardinal red and white flying across the ice. Engrossed in a conversation with your best friend you don't even realise the boy that comes skating across the ice until his firm body hits the boards. The loud noise startling you. Looking over your shoulder you're met with big blue eyes staring back at you behind the cage of his helmet.

His eyes squinting from the smile forming on his lips as he gives you a wave. Cheeks flushed from the attention you stare at the boy with wide eyes before pointing a finger towards yourself as if asking him 'me?' The unknown boy laughs softly before nodding in confirmation. Sneaking a glance at your friends to see them focused on something else you raise from your seat.

Walking over to him you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, a nervous habit you've had since you were a kid.

"Hey, I'm Cole."

II. The first kiss

Your plan to focus on school had went out the window after you met Cole Caufield for the first time. Suddenly the lonely evenings in your bedroom became study dates or movie nights every Sunday he didn't have hockey.

He was your best friend but his smile still made you blush like it did the first time he directed it towards you. It was easy to let go off all your worries in his presence. Cole was easy going, never letting anything bother him for more than two minutes. It was something you admired about him, one of many things in fact.

Laying in the space between Cole's legs, back pressed to his chest you watch the tv series he'd picked out for tonight. Blanket draped across your lap and soft glow from the TV illuminating your faces. It's currently 1:30am but neither of you feel the need to wrap this Sundays movie night up just yet. Way too comfortable in each others embrace.

Cole shuffles in his seat, arms wrapping tighter around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat. Thu-thump Thu-thump. You’re pulled out of your daze like state when you feel Cole’s nose nudge against your temple. Turning your head slightly you get eye contact, noses bumping together from your close proximity. His blue eyes look like they’re sparkling more than usual in the artificial light from the screen. Cole parts his lips, a silent question if he can kiss you hanging in the air around you. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you lean forward.

It’s slow open mouthed kisses and breaths mingling together. Smiles so big your teeth almost clash when you turn your body around so you’re chest to chest. Tangling your fingers in his hair and Cole grasping your cheek in his big palm. The soft fabric of his sweatshirt and the smell of his cologne. The taste of your chapstick on his lips lingering as you pull apart for air.

“I was wondering when you were gonna do that.”

III. The first I love you

It’s a tough loss in tonight’s hockey game. You can see it on Cole’s face as the final buzzer rings, the look of defeat and disappointment clear. Anyone else wouldn’t have picked up on it but you can read your boyfriend even when he tries to mask his emotions.

Grabbing your belongings you push your way through the crowd trying to get out of the stands. Mind spiralling with scenarios of how Cole’s going to act when you see him. All you can do is hope he won’t try to shut you out.

Rushing out a hello to the security guard you stand in the tunnel, picking at your sleeves while you wait for Cole to come out. The minutes feel like hours before the locker room door opens. Waving to his teammates as they file out one after the other. Counting in your head you come to the conclusion Cole is the only one left. Looking to see if the coast is clear you walk inside.

Your boyfriend is sitting in his stall, hunched over with his head resting in his hands. Hair still damp from the shower. Taking note of the jersey and helmet thrown across the room you know he’s in a bad mood. Cautious you step forward before you come to a halt in front of his sitting form. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence until you slowly peel his hands away from his head. Wrapping his arms around your legs he rests his hands on the back of your thighs, forehead resting against your stomach.

“Tell me what’s going on inside that brain of yours.” Cole exhales a shaky breath, grabbing your legs tighter in his palms.

“I could’ve done better, I let everyone down Y/N. I had so many goal chances that I screwed up.” His voice cracks and your heart along with it. Stepping out of his hold you squat so you come face to face with the hockey player.

“Don’t ever say that Cole Caufield. This is not on you, it’s a team sport. You did everything you could tonight and sure it didn’t play out the way you wanted but don’t ever doubt what you can do. Me along with so many others know how good of a hockey player you are. Fuck you’re going to the NHL soon and if that doesn’t tell you how good you really are I don’t know what does. It’s only one game, you can’t win them all but you can chose to learn from it.”

Cole leans his forehead against yours, a couple of happy tears slips out as he blinks. “I love you so much baby, thank you for always knowing what to say.” Now it’s your turn to start crying. Crying because it’s the first time either of you have said those words aloud and you can’t picture a more perfect moment even if it’s the result of something sad.

“I love you too Cols.”

IV. NHL debut

It feels like a fever dream standing inside the Bell centre. A Montreal Canadians jersey on your upper body and a smile so big your cheeks hurt. After a rocky start the day has finally came for Cole to take his first steps on the ice as an NHL player. Standing beside his family in the stands you grip his mothers hand in a death grip as they announce that Cole is about to make his rookie lap. Your heart feels like it might leap out of your chest as he comes flying out on the ice.

He sports probably the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face and you don’t even realise that you have started crying. Paul Caufield wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and squeeze you in a side hug as all of you watch Cole skate around with proud smiles.

As he skates by where you’re standing you raise your arms up and start hollering. Shouts of his name and whistling. Cole comes to a stop in front of you blowing a kiss as you mouth out an I love you which he responds with an I love you more.

You know he’s going to become something great in the hockey world and you’re so unbelievably proud that the whole universe is about to see it as well.

Smiling at his parents when he skates back to the tunnel you wipe the stray tear from your cheek.

“I’m so proud of him.”

V. The first apartment

You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck as you drop the last box on the floor. Ripping the thick sweater off your body you plop down on the nearest piece of furniture which happens to be the couch. Cole following shortly after. Both of you letting out a sigh of relief that the last moving boxes and furniture are inside.

If anyone had told you at eighteen that you would be moving into an apartment in Montreal with your boyfriend it would’ve felt so far away but it’s not. Not anymore. It’s actually happening.

Looking around you, you take in the high ceiling windows, dark wooden floors and light coloured walls and it’s unbelievable that this is your home. You and Cole’s home. As if sensing that you’re having a moment Cole intertwines your fingers giving your hand a small squeeze.

Looking over at him you see a goofy smile on his lips that match your own.

“This is real right? I’m not just hallucinating?” Cole barks out a laugh at your question before lifting you up and onto his lap. Resting his chin on your shoulder after pecking the skin behind your ear.

“As real as it can be babe, this is all ours.”

Later that night as you lay close together on your makeshift bed -a mattress on the floor- you run your fingertips on his chest. Eyes heavy with exhaustion from today you feel sleep sneaking up on you. Trying to blink sleep away for only a minute longer so you can relish in the moment that is the first night in your new home.

Cole is softly snoring beside you, having fallen asleep thirty minutes ago while you whispered about tomorrows plans of assembling furniture. There’s been so many huge milestones in your relationship with Cole. But this, moving in together and starting the rest of your lives beats them all by a landslide.

“Welcome home Cols.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Let the Boy Be Merry

Prompt Day 5: Grinch vs. Holiday Cheer | Word Count: 3333 | Rating: M | CW: Language, Brief Talk of Kids (They Didn't Have) | Tags: Future Fic, Long-Term Relationship, Middle-Age Steddie, Christmas, He's a Grinch, But His Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day, Eddie POV

This one is also available right here on AO3.

"This is ridiculous!" Eddie screams as loud as he can, from the bottom of the ladder. Which is pretty loud. Eddie's not exactly known for his timid demeanor. Especially when he's offended, and this really offends him.

"Yes, Eddie, I heard you the first hundred times!" Steve screams back, from the top of the ladder. Stapling another string of lights to the house. 

He's been doing it for hours. Literal hours. It's cold, snow on the ground, and Eddie is fucking tired of holding the ladder, his fingers are frozen, even in his gloves. But he can't just walk off and let Steve fall to his death. 

"That's enough! You're gonna kill the power to the whole neighborhood!" Eddie yells, trying anything to get him off that fucking ladder.

Steve scoffs. Eddie hears him, even from all the way up there. 

"I'm not Clark Griswold!" Steve shouts back.

Eddie sighs. No, he's not. But that's what they are obviously using as an inspiration for this amount of lights. It's too much. A monstrosity, and they'll never be able to afford the electricity bill. They've been together for years, decades, and Steve still struggles with the idea that they have a budget. 

It drives Eddie insane. 

And about these lights? Eddie's done the math. This is going to cost thousands of dollars to run all month. Thousands of dollars. 

For Christmas lights.

Eddie doesn't approve of this, not at all. He's called Wayne to complain, several times, and Wayne just grunts, not as affronted as Eddie thought he'd be. Wayne understands not wasting electricity, he's the one that followed Eddie around the trailer turning off lights, even ones Eddie was sometimes still using.

"I hear you, Scrooge," Wayne had finally said, "but, can you afford it?"

Eddie had sighed, and muttered a begrudgingly quiet, "Yes."

"Then let the boy be merry," Wayne had drawled, and Eddie had wanted to pull his hair out. He could look even more like Wayne, if he did.

There's being merry, and there's…whatever Steve is, right now.

Eddie doesn't even like Christmas, so this is a hard time of the year in their house. Steve is always acting like they are in the middle of Rockefeller Center, all giant Christmas trees and ice skating rinks. And then there's Eddie, just sitting idly by, wishing for January. 

He doesn't want to drag a real tree into the house. They're a fire hazard. And Eddie doesn't want to traipse out to the tree farm, cut a damn tree down, and pick up pine needles for a month. No thanks.

So, Steve finally relented, and bought an artificial one. And then Eddie saw how much that motherfucker cost, and nearly had a goddamn stroke. It's a plastic tree. It should have been twenty dollars. 

He leans his forehead against the cold metal rung of the ladder.

He's trying. It's just hard. He does the bills. He's going to be the one that has to look at those insane numbers on the electricity bill next month just for running Christmas lights that they can't even see from inside the house, and cut a check. 

"Hey, Grinch ass, I need more staples!" Steve yells, and Eddie grumbles, but passes him up another box from the step. Steve puts them in the front pocket of his gray hooded sweatshirt after he's reloaded the staple gun.

"Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. LOATHE ENTIRELY!" Eddie shouts, quoting The Grinch back at him. If Steve wants to call him The Grinch, Eddie'll be the fucking Grinch. 

Steve's almost forty, and he's on a ladder like he's twenty. It's stupid. He's going to get hurt. 

And, do you know how much a trip to the ER costs? Eddie's pretty certain Steve doesn't.

"You're too old to be up on that ladder!" Eddie yells up at him, and Steve laughs. He laughs so hard he has to hold onto the ladder so he doesn't actually fall off of it.

"How old do you think I am, dickhead?" Steve finally asks, "I'm thirty-nine. Not ninety-three, last I checked. I can still climb a ladder."

And he can. Eddie knows that. Steve's still in shape. Still active. Steve goes to the high school gym here in town almost every weekend and plays in the old timers basketball league with other men his age, or even older. Some of them are much, much older and still running up and down the court. So, Eddie knows forty isn't old. Eddie's forty, and he can still climb a ladder. Well, he could if wanted to. He definitely doesn't want to. 

"You're in the senior basketball league!" Eddie yells back, just poking at him a little bit more, just because he can.

"You got me there," Steve just says, smiling. "Give me another string of lights. If you're not too old to bend over. You're older than me, in case you've forgotten."

Eddie grumbles, he hasn't forgotten, and hands Steve another strand of lights.

So, the lights go up, one strand at a time. With Steve getting down and moving the ladder as he needs to, and then all the other decorations go out with them. It's a nightmare. He had to watch Steve and Robin make decorations for weeks. Carrying in sack after sack from the craft store. 

They made giant lollipops to line the sidewalk out of foam discs that they covered in colorful cellophane. They look good, even Eddie can see that, but they were a waste of time and money, he's pretty certain.

And they're putting holes in the lawn.

Eddie tried to put his foot down when they came rolling old, used tires up towards the garage. They didn't listen to him, they never do, and he had to watch as they spray painted them green, and stacked them up in tiers until they had fake Christmas trees. 

What sucks, is Eddie just knows he's going to be the one trying to dispose of the tires after Christmas is over. 

It's overkill, all of it.

And now, with the lights, Eddie just has to act complacent as he's basically hearing the electric meter whirring 'round and 'round, spinning like a faulty compass, all month long. 

It's torture. Pure torture.

Christmas morning is the usual tug-of-war. Steve wants to get up at six, and Eddie wants to sleep in. They don't have kids. There's no godforsaken reason for them to get up before dawn. They don't even exchange gifts. That stopped long ago, after Steve slowly realized Eddie is bad at receiving gifts, and even worse at giving them. 

So, they've opted out. 

Robin always brings Steve something perfect that Eddie could never compete with, anyway. 

But Steve likes a big breakfast on Christmas morning, always has. It's too much food. He always tries to get Steve to cut back, but Steve doesn't listen. Steve always makes the full spread, and eventually Eddie will roll out of bed, getting a cup of coffee and eating a huge plate of food that Steve's made. Pancakes, eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, ham steak, biscuits and gravy, hash browns, all of it. It's good. It's always good.

Just too much food, more than they can eat.

Eddie's still shoveling it into his mouth when Steve pushes a box towards him.

"What's this? We don't do gifts," Eddie says around a mouthful of hashbrowns, slathered in ketchup.

"You don't do gifts," Steve corrects with a smile. "I do gifts just fine."

Steve's teasing, and Eddie softens, just a little. He's been a dickhead, all month. He's not sure why Steve puts up with him at all. They are polar opposites, sometimes. Eddie, still loud and brash, and a little rude, and those are all things Steve Harrington outgrew as a teenager.  

He's kind, and thoughtful. And yes, he's fucking merry.

"I don't have anything for you," Eddie says, and he's embarrassed for the first time in a long time. Ashamed.

"I know you don't," Steve says. "I want you to have this anyway."

Eddie nods as he pulls the corner of the tape loose, and slides his thumb under it. It's a small kraft paper box, and Eddie pops off the lid, not sure what to expect. 

A thick, silver band wasn't something that had crossed his mind.

He looks up, finding Steve's eyes, a question on the tip of his tongue.

And Steve grins, but he looks a little uneasy, finally saying, "If you wanna marry me, we could do that, now."

Wayne was right. Eddie's been a Scrooge. A dickhead, a fucking Grinch, all month, no, for years, and for some reason Steve still wants to marry him. He will never understand why, but you can't explain love, he supposes. 

He just looks at the ring, a little stunned.

"I know you've always said," Steve continues quietly, looking down at the table, just for a second, before he looks back at Eddie, "that it didn't matter. So, I know none of this matters to you. Christmas. Marriage. All the unnecessary stuff. The things that cost good money for no good reason. I know that. But if you want to, I want to."

And Steve's chin quivers, just a little, the only thing giving him away before the first tears fill his eyes, and then fall. It's comical, that first tear. It's big, and is immediately chased by a few others. Hitting Steve's chin, and then his shirt. If it wasn't so fucking sad, it'd be funny.

"Steve, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie says, "of course I want to marry you. Yes," he says, picking the ring up out of the box and sliding it on his finger. It fits, but he knew it would. Because Steve doesn't get these things wrong. Not ever. 

They've been together for years, nearly twenty of them, and somehow Steve is still unsure that Eddie's all in? That he might not want to marry him? That can't be possible. No, way. Eddie doesn't need to get married. Just like he doesn't need a whole month of Christmas, or to go to Pride, or celebrate Valentine's Day. He isn't built that way. As Wayne would say, it isn't in his nature.

But somehow, somewhere along the way, he decided that what he thought was more important than the fact that all those things are important to Steve. 

It stuns him, suddenly. That this is still the case. He thought he'd grown up into a responsible adult. But, in some ways, he must still be that high school kid that was too good to go watch his friend play basketball. The one that'd rather Lucas just miss out on the end of the Hellfire campaign, than move it back a day or two.

Eddie scrubs his hand over his face.

He's really fucked this up, he realizes. For a long, long time. He'll do better, he will. 

Eddie gets out of his chair, squatting next to Steve's chair and both of his knees pop and crack. It's funny, Steve laughs, and Eddie does, too. 

"Don't say a word," Eddie warns, teasing him. It's clearly his karma for saying Steve was old when they were hanging lights. Now, his goddamn body has betrayed him. He had it coming, he's pretty sure.

He puts his hands on Steve's thighs, squeezing.

"I want to marry you. Of course, I do. I'm sorry if you thought that maybe I didn't," Eddie says, and he is sorry. So sorry. "I love you. So much. More than anything."

Steve smiles, gripping both his shoulders, "I wasn't questioning if you love me, Eddie. I know you love me. I was just unsure about the marriage part. I promise."

"I definitely want to marry you," Eddie says, and he means that. No, he wouldn't have thought about it on his own, probably, because he already feels married to Steve. He didn't need the damn government to finally catch up to make that true. But, yes, of course he wants to marry Steve, legally. He wants to be with him for twenty more years, and after that, forever.

As long as they've got.

"We can do something small. At the courthouse. In and out. Twenty minutes and twenty dollars," Steve promises.

Eddie shakes his head, he's not going to micromanage the cost of this thing Steve wants to do. Not this time, "We'll have the wedding you want, sweetheart. Even if it costs fifty dollars."

He's teasing, and Steve knows that, and Steve laughs as he's leaning down to kiss him. Eddie leans up to meet him, halfway this time. He's going to do that more often, try to meet him in the middle.

Later in the day, Steve is standing by the coat rack, and he says, "I'm gonna take the lights down, before it gets dark."

It's not an unusual statement. It's the compromise they've made over the years. The lights can go up, but as soon as Christmas morning is over, they gotta come down. It's ridiculous, and Eddie feels ashamed. What's a few more days? Honestly.

Eddie shakes his head, "No. Let's leave them up until after the new year."

And Steve smiles, big and bright.

That night, they stand on the curb, bundled up, watching the lights twinkle. Eddie can see the tree in the front window, and it's beautiful, too. Full, and decorated. Not like the sad, little tree he grew up with. It was probably worth the money Steve spent on it, he realizes. It looks real, especially from here.

And he's walked past it a thousand times in the house, never even really looking at it. Not seeing it. Not experiencing this beautiful thing Steve put in their house.

Steve has put a lot of beauty in Eddie's world, and Eddie regrets that he didn't take the time to notice it.

Back inside, Steve brings him a mug of hot chocolate, and it's in the silly Christmas Vacation moose mugs Steve bought a couple years ago, the ones that Eddie didn't think they needed. They have plenty of mugs, but these made Steve smile, so they bought them even after Eddie's protests. Tonight, he takes a hold of the antlers, with thanks.

They make him smile now, too. Because Steve is smiling.

That night, Eddie lays in bed, taking inventory of all the things he's given Steve grief about over the last twenty years. It's a long list, he realizes. Sure, Steve holds his own. Doesn't let Eddie steamroll him, not easily, not at all. Steve hasn't been cowed, Eddie is sure of that. Steve just decided to pick his battles, and has let the rest just roll off his back. 

No Christmas presents? Sure, that's fine. No birthday cake unless he buys his own? That's fine, too. Steve always says he'll know best what kind of cake he's hungry for this year, anyway.

When Steve wanted another BMW, and Eddie said they couldn't afford one, Steve picked something else. Something cheaper. When the oven broke, Steve said he wanted double ovens, wanted the extra space, for when they had friends over. 

Eddie was on board until he saw the price of them, and then he balked. Not to mention the cost of having them installed, and Steve didn't press the issue. He just picked a new middle of the road, single oven, and went on with life. 

They could, though. They could have afforded it. The ovens, for sure. And probably even the BMW with a little creativity. Eddie's made sure they have money squirreled away. It's a response to his childhood, and he knows that. Steve never wanted for anything, and there were times, before Wayne, that Eddie wanted for everything.

Steve never seems to get his feathers ruffled by any of these slights, so Eddie has just kept running their finances exactly how he prefers. 

But they can't take it with them, and they don't have kids. 

And that suddenly knocks the wind out of Eddie.

Years ago, Steve floated the idea of a kid, of adopting, and Eddie hadn't entertained it as a real suggestion. They didn't need a kid. Couldn't afford one, anyway, and they were good, just the two of them.

He reaches over and shakes Steve awake.

Steve looks at him, half-asleep, "What? What's wrong?"

"Do you want to have a baby?" Eddie asks, slightly unhinged.

"No," Steve says, like Eddie's an idiot, "but we could practice trying to make one, if you want," Steve adds, reaching out, and patting Eddie on the thigh. 

It makes Eddie laugh. 

"Yeah, some practice sounds good," Eddie says.

And Steve rolls over on top of him, and Eddie forgets, just for a second, why he was worried in the first place. They're happy. He knows that, believes it. Even if they aren't always on exactly the same page.

Eddie will try to be on the same page more often. Even if it's in a book that he's unfamiliar with.

He's pretty sure Steve's too sleepy to follow through, but it's nice to feel the familiar weight of him covering his body, and Eddie just rubs Steve's bare back in soft, delicate strokes until Steve has fallen back asleep.

And Eddie is a man of his word, even if the only person he promised change to was himself. So, he does try. When Valentine's Day rolls around, Eddie brings home roses. And chocolates. And a teddy bear. It's a little bit much, but Steve laughs, and accepts it all. Giving Eddie a kiss, and nothing else, and that's more than fine with Eddie.

He's the one in the hole, here. The ledger is majorly off-balance, and that just won't do. He needs to settle up his debts.

For Pride, Eddie puts on rainbow-colored clothing of Robin's choosing, and follows Steve and Robin to the parade. He walks right beside them, his head held high. Happy, because they're happy.

When Steve comes home on his birthday, the living room is filled with black helium balloons, because while Eddie might be getting on board, it's still Steve's fortieth, and he's not about to miss this opportunity. No way in hell. There's a cake on the counter, shaped like a headstone. Eddie ordered it weeks ago. From an actual bakery, and paid for it, without complaining about the cost. Well, at least not out loud. He's complained in his head aplenty.

Steve has a grocery store cake in his hands. He hasn't realized yet that that's not gonna be necessary anymore. That's okay, Eddie will keep this up until Steve forgets there was ever a time he was responsible for buying his own birthday cake.

And when Christmas rolls around again, Eddie is up on a second ladder, hanging lights next to his husband. He's pretty sure they'll put up more than last year. He helped draft the design, drawing it on a piece of printer paper, in full color.

Steve framed it. Like it was art. Like it was important.

Maybe it is. 

Eddie's done trying to tell Steve what's important. He's going to let Steve tell him for a while.

Eddie gets down to get another string of lights, and he did replace the old incandescent C9's with LED Christmas lights, in the same style. Because they use eighty percent less electricity, which is exactly what Eddie, the old Grinch that he is, likes to hear.

Just because his heart grew three sizes that day, doesn't mean he's stopped looking at the electricity bill. He's not crazy.

Sure, the new lights cost more up front, but he's learned his lesson, and just opened his wallet and pulled out his credit card, keeping his mouth shut. They'll save money in the long run, and they'll make Steve happy. That's a win-win.

And really, that's all Eddie's ever wanted. To make Steve happy. He just got a little lost along the way.

Money is important, sure.

But Steve, definitely, means a little bit more.

Notes: I cried while writing this. I cried a little more while editing this. I don't know. Don't look at me like that. It is what it is, and sometimes life pairs you up with someone that doesn't exactly speak your love language. And you still love them anyway.

Several people have done the math on Clark Griswold's lights, and while none of them have the same end figure, it seems, at a minimum, he spent about $3700 to run his lights during the month of December.

And does that header image not look like it could actually be an older Steve Harrington, or what? I don't know if it's the jeans, or the watch, but as soon as I saw it, I was like, yep, that's the one for this day. (Credit: It's an Adobe stock image.)

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along! 🎄

[moonlight-if-knight]

Do any of the ROs like ice-skating? And would they ice-skate together with the MC, holding hands and spinning around together and all that?

All of the ROs would be happy to ice-skate with MC... except Derek, Max, and Lorian/Locke.

Derek and Lorian/Locke have never ice-skated before. However, both can be very easily persuaded by an MC close to them. They will be a little clumsy at first and with slow steps, but they'll learn quickly :)

In Max's case, it depends on where they would ice-skate. If it's in an ice rink (an artificial one, as at present), he could be persuaded and ice-skate with MC, although nothing too risky. However, if it's in a frozen lake or something like that… nope. Not a chance. Not in a million years 😳

Alex, Jeremiah, Siliva, and ??? would very happily ice-skate with MC and do as many spinnings, jumps, and holding hands as MC wants :)

[puckpocketed]

The Summer I Fell For Hockey - Some journals I wrote while learning to love the Brave Cave.

1.

Phillip Swimming & Ice Skating Centre — at least, the rink portion of it — is affectionately referred to as the Brave Cave, nicknamed after our local ice hockey team, the CBR Brave.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been, just the first time since I began my summer fling with ice hockey.

‘Cave’ is appropriate. Enter into the maw after purchasing a ticket from the snippy white-haired booth attendant; to stained brown brick insides, a foiled insulation ceiling, and a Hits of the Decades tape blasting from speakers mounted precariously on thin shelves.

It smells of damp, artificial cool, and something vaguely dirty and sour; there are webs gummed up with dust and moisture that drape themselves from dark corners. Shoved to the far end of the rink are two red goal nets, awaiting game time. 

Two girls skate the afternoon session with me. We exchange smiles, politely avoidant. In the half-dozen times I’ve skated, I’ve yet to relinquish the safety of the boards. This time is no different.

Not that it helps — the Cave leaves its marks on me in the burn of my calves, the ache in my thighs, a new patch of purple-blue on my hip where I ate shit on my fifth lap. Overall: not the romance I envisioned when I set out to make this place special.

And yet, every few stumbling steps, I manage to glide. If I strain my ears, I hear the sibilance of my rental skates carving through the ice. Fleetingly, I think; is this what it’s like, even just a little, to play ice hockey?

2.

Aimee and I are late for evening lessons.

We are too late. White-haired Booth Attendant tells us, with little remorse as he counts notes to close the till, that we needed to be here at 6:30 for pre-registration.

He looks like he’s a part of this place. Decaying, with the skin around his eyes collapsing; his mouth a deformed, wrinkled moue; his unfriendly red face a warning sign that says KEEP OUT. His booth is all chipped paint and scratched plexiglass, scattered papers and a thin layer of grime. He is the Cave made flesh.

Words leap into my mouth: ‘White-haired Booth Attendant, last time I was here, when you implied I should come to these lessons because they were “diverse” and for “people like you” I wanted to shake you. White-haired Booth Attendant, I wanted to ask you what the hell that’s supposed to mean, because this city is more home to me than wherever you think I came from.’ Instead, I say nothing. I pull away.

Behind me, Aimee follows.

We sit in the car, parked while we figure out what to do. Around us the eyes of highrises stare on, boxing us in, and their half-built companions yawn a dark greeting through scaffolding. Phillip Swimming & Ice Skating Centre, old and strange and ugly as it is, is the only place that deigns to squat at our level, a white and blue dwarf.

3.

I hang around after my skating lesson, furtive, waiting to be kicked out before the closed sessions of ice hockey start.

The zamboni is an angel to me, coming through the rusted garage door and onto the ice to chase off lingering skaters. She rains her holy, healing fire down on that carved up plane of ice; she dresses its wounds with water and scrapes away its scars and makes it new again.

No one ever said that fresh ice smells different — something clean and petrol-laced and almost-not-quite sweet.

Later, I chat up a woman on one of the amateur hockey teams. She sneaks me into the stands, explains that we don’t have enough players in our city to have completely separated tiered leagues — the beginners play with the intermediate players and the semi-pros.

This place is falling apart and not built to host ice hockey matches, no team benches, no penalty boxes, and it barely seats 500. The interest is so low they can’t even fill out their leagues. Their referees are volunteers and do double duty as linesmen. Their gear, I learn, is often scraped together, many of them sporting hand-me-downs. What’s the thing below a beer league? This would be it.

But all of that seems immaterial once they come onto the ice for warmups. I forget about it once I hear it: my very first in-person clapper — a slapshot, a one-timer. It punctuates the end of my coherent thoughts, ringing loud and cutting through the warmup ambience.

Later, on the bus, giddy and sore and warm, I label today as the best day of my life.

4.

This part of town is an ugly, artless gash in the heart of the valley. The temporary bus station made to look like the cracked open shells of shipping containers; the construction vehicles and tradies scuttling about — all signs of perpetually unfinished gentrification — and the Cave amongst it all, just another rotted artery.

At first, I assume that people come here not because they like it, but because they have nowhere else to go. Characterless. Void.

I am wrong.

White-haired Booth Attendant cracks a weathered smile as he highlights my skating lesson punch card, notes that I’m on time for this one, and allows me entry after I’ve paid his toll. The tuckshop, which I took to be permanently shut, is as much of an anachronism as the rest of the Cave; right out of someone's 40-year-old memory with its nostalgic candy selection and hot pies. It isn’t closed. It is in fact manned by a gangly rink rat during public skate sessions. Gangly Rink Rat helps me size my rentals properly and wishes me luck.

More character: fellow skaters hang their blade guards on the netting, glittery transparent pink and neon green and a fire engine red. Even more: if you look to the left on your way in, there’s an easily missed cabinet full of dusty trophies and faded photos.

I’ll ask all their names next time. They are as much a part of the Cave as the mortar and steel that make up its foundations.

My instructor sets me to hobbling around on the ice with the correct form. I take it all in and think, on my second lap, yeah. There's something lovely in this decay. There is character here — I just had to look.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Just Us

Pairings: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, soft kisses, budding romance.

A/N: thanks to @misspearly1 for the beta 🥰 also after this I won’t be doing a tag list anymore. So please follow @supernaturalgirl20-writes and turn on notifications ✌️💕

Series Masterlist

Part of @toomanystoriessolittletime December writing challenge.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

You were nervous.

Not that you were going to tell Marcus that, especially when he had organised a wonderful date. The sound of laughter and screams fills your senses as you edge closer to the ice rink. Please don’t let me make a show of myself. We’ve only been on four dates. He’s gonna run a mile.

The feel of his hand gently squeezing yours pulls you from your thoughts and you slowly turn your head to meet his gaze.

“Hey, you ok?” He asks, his voice soft as he turns to face you, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “You seem a little anxious.”

You smile at him bashfully, your eyes flicking towards the ice before meeting his gaze again. “It’s just…,” you stammer, worrying your bottom lip. “I’m not very good at ice skating. I always fall.”

His eyes shine bright beneath the artificial lights and a smile begins to form at the corners of his mouth. “It’s ok, I’m quite good at it.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. Of course he is. He is good at everything. Great, I’m gonna look even worse now. His thumb runs down along your cheek and under your chin, tilting your head upwards so you meet his gaze. “What I meant is that I’m good enough for the both of us. As long as I’ve got you, I’m never gonna let you fall.”

Is it too early to say the L word? You think to yourself as he leans in and kisses you softly. “Come on, let’s get our skates.” He laces his fingers with yours once again and leads the way.

***

Standing at the edge of the ice rink, the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as you slowly step out. Marcus is there, hand outstretched, waiting for you to take it.

With a glance up at him you stammer nervously, “you promise you won’t let me fall?”

He smiles at you as you take his hand, “with everything that I am, I promise I won’t let you fall.”

“Ok,” you say calmly as you feel him pull you slowly towards him. Your legs are a little shaky at first but with Marcus’s tight grip and gentle instructions, you soon find your groove. With a tight grip on your hand, he pushes you out from his side a little. “Hey, remember what I said? I won’t let you fall,” he says softly at the anxious look on your face.

“I trust you,” you say with a smile. He starts to move, pulling you along beside him as you both glide along the ice. He picks up speed slightly and then he swirls you around before pulling you into his warm embrace.

“Wow,” you say with your hand resting on his chest, the thrum of his heart calming your racing one. “That was amazing. You’re really good at this.”

“Had loads of practice. My mom and dad used to take me, my brother and sister to the ice rink in town every year. Sort of like a family tradition.” Maybe I can take you next year? He thinks to himself.

“How about we get some hot chocolate?” He says as he stares down at you, the flash of some unknown emotion in his eyes. As he guides you both back towards the edge, the little voice inside your head urges you to admit your true feelings for the man. He’d been so understanding tonight and never once left your side, making sure he kept his promise.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you say as you both hand back your skates. Marcus looks down at you with a warm smile on his face and his eyes are full of adoration. “I knew you’d like it. And you were great.”

“Only because I had you holding me the whole time. Maybe next year I’ll be able to skate without squeezing your hand to death,” you say with a laugh, using humour to disguise your embarrassment. Marcus is now staring at you with an unreadable look on his face and you can’t hear that his heart is beating hard inside his chest, so hard that it is deafening his ears.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you begin to fiddle with the strings in your scar after coming to the realisation of what you’ve just said. Next year. You said next year, assuming that you’ll even be together for that long and now you're worried that you were coming on too fast.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” You apologise quickly, hoping to explain yourself and salvage the moment you were just having with the man, “That was too forward of me. It’s just that I have so much fun when I’m with you… I feel like I can be myself, and… I really like you-no. No, actually, I don’t like you. I love you and I want to-'' Marcus's lips press against yours, stopping you from rambling.

His tongue runs along the seam of your lips and he swallows the soft moan that escapes them. You can’t believe he’s kissing you like this. That he hasn’t run a mile after you told him you loved him. God you hope he’s the one. You know he is. You just hope he feel it too.

Once those three little words left your lips, Marcus needed to kiss you. He was worried his emotions would make him stumble on his words so he did the only thing he could think of. Kiss you. He’s never felt like this before. Not with anyone and he knows deep down to his very bones that you're the one.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes out as he pulls back a little. Finally able to form coherent sentences, he holds your cheek in the palm of his hand. “I’ve wanted to tell you all night but I was worried I’d scare you off. I love you too, baby.”

Your lips meet again in a passionate kiss and a group of young people pass whistling and jeering. “Get a room,” they shout.

A laugh erupts from you both and Marcus rests his head against yours. “Maybe we should, you know….get a room?” You say bashfully as you hold his gaze.

Marcus’s eyes blow wide with lust as he pulls back and twines his hand in yours. “Mine or yours?”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @dindjarinswhore @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @pedr0swh0r3 @musings-of-a-rose

[mewintheflesh-2]

GB hosts a minecraft server for all the other Mikey’s to play on whenever they want. No creative, most exploits are banned. Has the mod where you get a players head if you kill them.

Mikey lives in a house in the sky OBVIOUSLY. Lots of parrots, ATLEAST 5 of each color. The server lags a lot when he makes them do their silly dances. Keeps a few phantoms as pets too. Has like 5 dragon eggs in his house and will go out of his way to bully any land or sea animal he sees by naming them dinnerbone. Has like 5 shulker boxes full of enchanted elytra. Is the main person everyone goes to when theirs breaks or they lose it after dying.

Nightsky ALSO lives in the sky, but he made a point to build his base higher up than Mikeys just because. and also lives nowhere near him. Refuses to speak with him and if they’re in room together they just keep punching eachother over and over again until someone just brings out their sword and kills the other. Then the other comes back, get their stuff, and the entire thing repeats. Nightsky has more kills on Mikey than Mikey does on him.

When nobody else is online, Fuse just gets on and does the weirdest shit to everyone’s bases. Puts villagers name tagged dinnerbone in peoples living rooms tied to the ceilings with chains. Red stone as blood across all the floors. Builds weird secret lab rooms in their homes. Kills all their villagers and steals their animals for himself.

Merryweather made his base in a cherry blossom biome, with a dark, Victorian aesthetic. Got GB to add in a gambling mod just cause.

Vamps made his home in a woodland mansion that was conveniently close to spawn. Killed everything inside and just took it over. He likes to fly around a lot at night. Almost uses as much elytra as Mikey does. Also has a hoard of bats he keeps as pets :) Got GB to add in a mod to add in a rare item in game that allows you to transform into a bat and fly around like a little freak.

McCoy has tried to blow up everyone (except Moro’s) bases with TNT. For some reason Marius’s and Fuse’s bases ended up with the most damages

Speaking of McCoy and Moro, they both live together!! They live in a winter spruce biome :) McCoy originally didn’t have a base, but Moro offered him to live in his house, and they’ve just lived together since. Their house is very cozy and winter themed. Moro even built an ice rink by their house just for funsies. GB ended up modding in hot chocolate literally just for them as a little gift.

Also speaking of Marius, he lives in the middle of the ocean. Made his own artificial island beach resort. Most of the others enjoy just popping in every once in a while, but McCoy and Moro avoid it like the plague. Which isn’t hard considering how far it is from spawn and their base.

Also speaking of Fuse’s house, It’s just a 50 chunk wide underground lab. Nothing too big :). Every weird thing you can do with mobs you can fucking think of. Somehow has an entire 15 shulker boxes full of bedrock, and 50 shulker boxes full of netherite blocks.

Keeps all his stolen animals in weird decrepit rooms with zombies and shit in them. If you want your animal back you’re going to have to let him kill you so he can put your head on his giant wall of everyone’s player heads. And also give him netherite. Has an entire shrine of himself as the centrepiece of the main lab room. If you go into the lab you’re going to have to die and lose your items to get out.

Had a weird hallway of armour stands that hold the armour and more heads of the people he’s killed. If you try to steal it back he will blow up your base and steal all your items.

Once he farmed for a whole bunch of charged creepers to the point where anytime anyone ever looked in the direction of the room housing them, their game would crash. He ended up releasing them out into the wild one day, and for the next month you could not go an hour without someone being killed by one. GB and Nightsky had to go out of their way to kill all of the ones they could find because they just got so fucking tired of dying to them. They ended up dying like 15 times in the process, 12 times for GB, 3 times for Nightsky.

Will hit anyone hes talking to with a sword atleast once in their conversation. It’s like a weird custom at this point except he gets very mad if you do it back. Will chase you down and kill you if you do.

Has a shulker box full of spawners for each type that can spawn in the wild. Will fill your house with cave-spider spawners if you make him mad enough.

There’s about 5 redstone masters on the server. Nightsky, Marvin, McCoy, Mellan, and Fuse.

I like to imagine GB’s just out trying to solve an anomaly that’s been plaguing many different universes and he just gets a text saying “Hey, Fuse is trying to kill all your animals.” And he’s just like “God fucking dammit not again.”

Moss, Mellan, and DL all live in the same house, but have here different houses they switch between living in periodically. Moss lives in your standard tall birch forest, lives next to a lush cave biome, Mellan lives on top of a mountain (he made his entire base into a fucking rave house), and DL lives in a dark oak/mushroom biome.

Moss is also one of the main farmers on the server. Has 50 shulker boxes full of golden carrots. And another 50 full of golden apples.

Mellan will always hide the weirdest shit in anyone’s bases that he visits. Not Fuse level weird but still weird nonetheless. Built a giant penis on top of Fuse’s lab just because.

Maharth “does not have time for minecraft” so he does not play on the server unfortunately and also fortunately for him

Mirri is a cosmic being and does not know how minecraft works. He tried to play once! But he broke the computer just with his mind after getting very frustrated with not understanding the game or technology. Whoopsie!! He ended up not coming back to earth for like a month after that because he felt bad about it. Also accidentally removed an entire 5 chunks of land in the process of breaking the computer. I think Mirri and GB are good friends :)

Marvin has a room in Fuse’s lab he can just come and crash in. Speaking of Marvin! His house is very redstone powered. Like, everything. Almost everything is automated, had farms for almost everything you can think of. You need any mob drops? He’s got you covered. Sugar cane? Sand? He’s got plenty! Life totems? Oh he has more than he knows what to do with.

Got GB to mod in trains into the game jsut so he could build a railway line to everyone’s bases (except for Mikey’s and Nightsky’s, kind of. The rail line just lead to a nearby spot to their bases.)

This has lead to all sorts of shenanigans as you might be able to tell with the nature of the rest of this post. The railways have been blown up like 70 times AT LEAST. Marvin kept having to fix them and he got very frustrated with everyone about it. GB ended up having to make them indestructible, but that didn’t stop people from just putting bedrock on top of them *coughcough*Fuchsia*coughcough*

Mrithun’s house!! Potion brewing lab. Whatever you need, he spot you, just give him some diamonds and you’re good to go. Has 5 shulker boxes full of each type of potion.

MANTIS!! He’s a bee farmer obviously. Has accidentally killed many people with his bees before. Prime person for any honey you might need. His bees keep accidentally ending up in everyone’s bases which is weird considering how far away some of them are from him. He swears he didn’t do it, and he didn’t, but like half the server thinks he did and he’s just fucking with them. Owns like 500 bees.

Once, all of his bees dissapeared. He asked around the server with no answer until he got to Fuse’s lab, which upon opening the door, he was swarmed by hundreds of bees. He put in chat “Found my bees.” And Fuse responded with just a smiley emoticon. It took him like a week to get them all back to his farm.

Magnus!! The one who defeated the ended dragon by himself when nobody else was online. Everyone was very upset to the point GB had to make sure that it respawned just so everyone who wanted to could have a chance to defeat it themselves. Among those, Nightsky and Mikey were not included. His house is very mystical, has a shit ton of amethyst block adorning the walls, floors, and ceilings all over his base. Also farms skulk and uses it in his house as well. Looks like a wizards house on the outside. A lot of purple and magenta stained glass and a lot of sea lanterns. Also!! A lot of items from the lush cave biomes.

[vulpes-fennec]

Ice Skating (Nessian) 🎁

Summary: A series of fluffy/smutty ACOTAR winter one-shots! 12 stories for the 12 days leading up to Solstice (December 21).

Nesta goes ice skating for the first time, and it's harder than she'd thought.

Read: Masterlist | AO3

Normally, having the muscled General of the Night Court’s armies on his knees before her would have Nesta hot and bothered. But right now, all she felt was trepidation. 

Cassian finished tightening her skates and glanced up with a mischievous grin. “Like what you see?” 

Nesta crossed her arms over her ample chest indignantly. “Now is not the time,” she replied shortly. 

When Cassian asked if she’d wanted to go ice skating last week, she’d said yes. Nesta had agreed because it didn’t look that hard. She knew how to move her body, so how hard could it be? But now she was seriously regretting it.

The assumption that she would take well to ice skating went out the window the moment she stood up. Nesta wobbled like a newborn fawn with each ungainly step. 

The large ice rink, artificially created thanks to Feyre’s ice powers, was relatively empty this evening. Fae glided over the shimmering surface, some even skating backwards or taking spinning leaps in the air. 

The moment Nesta stepped onto the ice, she froze. Wearing clunky skates was bad enough, but being on ice was a whole other beast. Nesta took a tentative step forward. Then another. Her arms wind-milled in circles, trying to maintain balance. 

Meanwhile, Cassian was sweeping circles in the center of the rink. Despite his bulky frame and large wings, Cassian was gliding on ice with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. Their roles had reversed: Cassian was the effortless dancer, Nesta the awkward novice. 

Nesta narrowed her eyes, trying to observe Cassian’s technique. Push—not step—with the skate, she realized. She tentatively pushed her left foot, moving forward an awkward inch. 

Nesta promptly set her foot back down before she fell on her face. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Cassian could spy mate clutching onto the railing for dear life as she moved in small, shuffling steps. Nesta would have snapped at him for trying to baby her the moment they stepped onto the ice. So he’d done a couple warm-up laps, waiting for her to adjust to the skates. 

Now seemed like the right time to approach her. 

“Hey, Nes.” Cassian skidded to a stop with an aggressive scrape, causing her to jump. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” Nesta gritted out. 

“You should keep your knees slightly bent,” Cassian advised. “Lean into each step…if you push with your left foot, lean right. And if you push with your right foot, lean left.”

Nesta did as he told. It helped a little, but she still struggled to keep the blades perfectly parallel. How did Cassian make it look so easy? She watched as he wove in between the others with wicked precision, sending ice shavings flying. Cassian even leapt into the air, flapping his wings twice before settling on the ice without a hitch.

“Show-off,” Nesta shouted to him. Cassian only gave her a cocky grin and continued on his way. 

Though she knew her mate kept an eye on her at all times, Nesta was simply glad he wasn’t hovering by her side. The disparity between their skill level was embarrassing. Cauldron, there were even children who were skating better than her. I can do this, Nesta told herself. If a child could learn, so could she.

In the twenty minutes that had passed, Nesta managed to make it around the rink several times. To be fair, she’d been using the rail to propel herself half the time. 

“You’re doing great, Nes. You should try letting go,” Cassian called out as he zipped by. “The rail will only hold you back.”

It was terrifying not having the rail to lean on. But if Nesta survived the brutal Blood Rite, she could also manage standing on artificial ice. 

Cassian was on the other side of the rink when he saw his mate stumble and fall forward with a screech. He was at her side in an instant, his protective instincts calming once it was clear Nesta only suffered a wounded pride. 

“That was good, Nes!” Cassian offered encouragingly. 

She glowered. “I just fell, Cassian,” she replied flatly in embarrassment. 

“I meant you fell with the proper technique,” he amended. “Everyone falls at some point.” Nesta pressed her lips together. Cassian knew that look. It was the I-wish-I-could-do-this-already look he saw so often in the training ring. He held out his hand, helping Nesta up.

“My hands hurt,” Nesta frowned. 

Cassian brought her frozen fingers to his mouth and kissed them gently. “Better, now?” he asked.

“My ass hurts.” 

Cassian laughed. “That’s bullshit, Nesta. I saw you fall on your knees. But if you’d like, I can also kiss it better when we get home.”

“You’d better. I need lots of pampering to recover from a fall.” Nesta said primly. 

“We can soak in a bath together. And maybe do some fun things after. But…will you skate with me, first?” he asked gently. Nesta’s steely blue eyes softened and she allowed him to take the lead. Cassian went slow, with Nesta gripping his hand like a vice. She let out a frightened gasp as her ice skates went in opposite directions, causing her to stumble. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Cassian’s deep rumble and strong arms steadied her. 

Nesta took a moment to catch her breath, with Cassian patiently rubbing her hands to warm them up. “Okay, I’m ready to move again.” 

With Cassian beside her, Nesta realized she had nothing to worry about. If she stumbled, he caught her. When she needed the extra momentum, he would propel them forward with extra force. Gone was his swagger from earlier. They were simply present in the moment, closely attuned to each other’s bodies like the mates they were.

A crescent moon hung over Ramiel in the distance. Happy squeals of laughter and contented chatter filled the air; children were boldly picking themselves up after falling, other couples drifted by hand-in-hand. The golden lights of Velaris households evoked feelings of warmth and peace on such a frigid night. 

“Doing alright?” Cassian’s breath fogged the air as he glanced down at Nesta with affection in his hazel eyes. 

Nesta nodded. “I like doing this with you,” she responded, giving his hand a squeeze. Moving on ice was still strange, but she managed to follow her mate as he skated round and round the rink. Lean to the left, lean to the right. Left foot push, right foot push. Slow down at the corner, speed up when the path cleared. 

It’s like dancing, she realized. 

“I want to try something with you,” Cassian said, after several minutes of silent skating. “Do you trust me?”  

“Always.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Cassian placed his hands on her waist and lifted her into the air, spinning delicately on the ice. 

Nesta made a noise of joy as the world spun in flashes of golden light. Cassian had spun her plenty of times while they danced, but this was different. This was faster, more fluid, more exhilarating. 

“Do it again,” she whispered eagerly when Cassian set her down. Cassian obliged, and this time, Nesta stretched her arms out like a bird, savoring the fluttering breeze against her face. 

Cassian’s wind-swept hair and rugged face were wild, his laugh like music to Nesta’s ears when he slowed to a stop. “One day, we’ll dance on the ice like those two.” Cassian nodded towards a Fae couple figure skating. Nesta watched in awe as the pair spun and pranced in perfect synchrony. One of them even leapt into the other’s arms, performing intricate twists in the air while their partner swept over the ice at a dizzying speed. 

So similar to dancing, yet so different in its own right. Nesta couldn’t spin or leap, nor could she match Cassian’s fancy footwork. But it was only a matter of time…

“Yes,” she breathed. She cradled his face in her hands. “Can we come back tomorrow?” 

Cassian’s kiss was searing in the winter night. “Of course, Nes.” 

[icemagicsynthetic]

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Conclusion:

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[deathfavor]

@ashrifts said: 004. for izana! hope he has good balance

Christmas Scenery prompts 004. on an ice rink, careful to dodge the bustling crowd that stumble and rush past.

   It’s nearly the holidays, which means everywhere feels like a kicked anthill — swarms of people like angry ants flooding their surroundings. Some were out searching for last minute gifts, others were rushing for limited time events, dinner reservations, parties, or just taking in the holiday atmosphere. What do they qualify as? Izana supposes it would be the lattermost option if it had to be confined down to a singular option. 

   He’s as graceful on the ice as he is in a fight, the world falling muted for a moment as the string lights cast a warm glow over the ice rink as he slides onto the ice. He casts a knowing look towards Ran, though amusement thrives in his eyes and coats his words when he speaks. It's a rarer lighthearted tone that appears on brief occasions when it was only one or two others rather than everyone.

   “  If you were hoping to see me fail, you’ll only be disappointed.  “  Shion on the other hand – there’s a reason that Izana and Ran were on the opposite side of the ice rink.  

   It’s also less crowded over here. Occasionally the flailing person or wandering group comes gliding across the ice near to them, but it is otherwise peaceful compared to the center and entrance of the rink where people are flocked together in tight bundles and chaotic shrieks and laughter. Being in a crowd or on his own has never seemed to phase Izana ; whenever he stands is his spotlight where he shows as confident and smiling. It was as empowering as it could be terrifying once you knew his strength. ( Such was the fate of those in juvie who had thought he'd be an easy target when he first arrived with a delicate smile — and then learned otherwise when he beat them all to a blooy pulp under his fist. ) His head tilts back, his breath forming a small cloud in the air as the stars shine high above artificial light. He glances at Ran from the corner of his eye briefly before looking ahead again. 

   “  Kakucho and I used to go ice skating sometimes when we were at the orphanage. “  It isn’t often that Izana speaks of his past, and certainly not of the times before juvie. Not to anyone other than Kakucho at least. Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle in its own right that he decides to share some coveted personal information. " Sort of. " He adds as an after thought with a chuckle. " We didn't have proper skates most of the time. Mostly because we snuck out at times. Only on occasion did we 'properly' skate. "  He cracks a smile at the memory when he looks more directly towards Ran this time and then back towards the ice..

[rinksystems]

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[repulsiveliquidation]

Omg you don’t know kk?????

She’s honestly one of the best ice hockey players I’ve ever seen like she’s so fucking talented

Plus she’s insanely hot so

I’m prepared for your kk era to begin because she is perfect

Ice hockey isn’t a thing back home because we only have artificial rinks because it doesn’t snow and it’s expensive but she’s really hot and I will update you on my KK obsession because it starts now

I also cannot ice skate or rollerblade nor get on a skateboard because I’m a bit of a pussy

[golden-retriever-overload]

He found a patch of artificial snow outside an ice rink and made it his home