#gonna wear this when I go ice skating with friends next week

[marlequinncos]

I couldn't get Fitzjames' cunty little fur-lined coat out of my head after finishing "The Terror", so I decided I needed my own version. I found the base coat secondhand, modified and tailored it, and hand sewed on the faux fur trim. Maybe one day I'll make the screen accurate version, but I'm very happy with this for now.

[minawritesfanfic]

Backyard Boy Part 2

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Word Count: 3,000+

Summary: You and Rodrick go ok that long await ice cream and skate ‘date’, it’s not a date though well okay maybe it is. A friend date, you can go on dates with your friends right…?

Part 2

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I lay in my bed staring blankly at my ceiling, the room was dark but slowly being illuminated by the rising sun. I knew that it was already nearing eight a.m. and that I hadn’t slept a wink last night. At first, I thought me and Rodricks hang out tomorrow, wait no that's today, was just a simple meeting between friends. My mom on the other hand doesn’t believe that, she asked so many questions and gushed about how I already had a date. Now that she brought it up this hangout is seeming more and more like a date.

I groaned and covered my face with my hands, trying and failing to pretend that it wasn’t already morning. I knew that I had to get up in a few hours and that I had stuff I needed to do before then. I forced myself to sit up and climb out of bed, I shivered once my feet hit the cold hardwood floor and quickly put on my house shoes. With a yawn I undressed and got ready to take a shower, I hopped in without checking the temperature and I was jolted wide awake. I adjusted the temperature and quickly warmed up, at least I was more awake and conscious of what was going on.

By the time I had gotten out of the shower, it was a few minutes past eight-thirty, I now sat at the kitchen counter eating breakfast. Homemade french toast and a glass of sweet vanilla almond milk, way better than normal milk I’d say. Despite it being eight a.m. on a Saturday I knew both my parents were out of work already, Dad was always in and out of the house since he was almost always on call at the station. Whilst mom’s job just had a weird work week, who the hell works Friday through Tuesday? I don’t even know what she does anymore since we moved, just that she’s out for hours at a time on the weekend.

I finished my breakfast and decided to start on chores early, so it wouldn’t be a problem later. I grabbed my ipod and started to clean with my epic playlist ‘Doghouse Jams’, it was chaotic but it was perfect for practically any mood. I nodded my head to the music blaring through my earbuds as I cleaned the dishes from breakfast and whatever meal my parents ate last night, they probably came in late and ate the leftover lasagna from last week. Regardless I scrubbed and rinsed away the leftover food bits and put the plates onto the drying rack, eventually the sink was empty so I switched sponges and started cleaning off the counters. I had spilled a bit of syrup and cinnamon on the counter, so I might as well get the rest of the counters while I’m already cleaning them.

It only took half an hour to finish up in the kitchen, so I decided to just hang out on the couch for a bit and let the rest of my playlist play. It was still only nine a.m. so I had a little over two hours before I could even think about getting ready to leave. I let out a sigh and snuggled deeply into the couch, I let my eyes flutter shut. I would just rest my eyes for a bit to waste some time.

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I awoke with a yawn, as I sat up with a stretch. I felt incredibly disoriented and stood as I rubbed the sleep off my face. I walked through the hallway towards my room and happened to glance up at the clock on the wall. If I wasn’t awake before, I definitely was now when I realized the time.

11:57 am

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so gonna be late!” I bolted down the hall and up the stairs to my room.

I quickly gathered everything I needed to go out on my bed, phone, chapstick, wallet, and fuck where did I put my keys? I scavenged my dresser and any jacket pocket I could to find them, it was only after several minutes that I found them in a discarded pair of jeans. This made me realize that the pants I was currently wearing were way too nice to wear to a skate park, so I wasted a few more minutes looking for a replacement. Eventually, I found a nice loose-ish form-fitting denim pair and put them on, then my sneakers. I made sure to grab a hoodie before I left my room, as I walked down the stairs to the front door I organized everything I needed into my various pockets. I lifted my head when I heard a knock at my door, and it was then that I remembered my skateboard was still upstairs. I quickly rushed back and grabbed it before answering the door, only after calming my heavy panting first. I swung the door open and I was met with Rodrick, who stood with his hands in his pockets shifting awkwardly in place.

“Hey! Sorry, I’m a few minutes late. I woke up barely an hour ago.” He said with a nervous laugh avoiding my eye contact, while I just breathed a short sigh of relief.

“Hey, it’s fine I was running a bit late too. Are you ready to hang?” I said stepping out my front door and shutting it behind me, giving the nob a quick twist to make sure it was locked.

“Yeah, ice cream, and then I’ll show you that skate park as promised.”

“Glad to see you’re a man of your word.” I joked as I followed him off my porch toward the ominous white van I just realized was parked in my driveway. It had ‘Löded Diper’ painted on the side, I just stared in awe.

“Do you like it? I drew it myself.” He said with a proud grin as he looked over at me.

“Yeah, I’m speechless. I didn’t realize that was how your band name was spelled, it’s unique though. I like it.”

“Thank you, it’s totally spelled like that on purpose. I picked the name myself, and I love it. Anyways, after you my liege.” Rodrick did a dramatic bow as he opened the passenger side door for me, I laughed and climbed inside.

He climbed in after me on the other side and then put his key into the ignition to start the car. He pulled out of the driveway a bit recklessly so I gripped my seatbelt tightly and knew I would have to apologize to my parents for the damage to the front yard. But just like that we were on our way down the street, it was silent for a while inside the car. I could occasionally catch Rodrick sneaking a few glances over at me as he drove, which reminded me a lot of my own mother's driving. Unlike my father’s uptight and stickler for the rules driving, my mother was uncaring and drove with her hands in the wind, literally. She occasionally let go of the wheel and put her arms out in the air, thankfully she at least used her thighs to somewhat drive the car when she did that.

It was a relatively short drive and we were already pulling into the tiny parlour’s similar tiny parking lot. The building looked quite old but through the large windows I could see the inside was certainly more modern. I left my skateboard on the floor of his car and climbed out of the van, the sound of passing cars was loud and led to there being a breeze despite the stagnant wind. I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I rounded the back of the truck and met Rodrick, we walked up to the parlour in a somewhat comfortable silence. Rodrick opened the door for me keeping up his chivalrous act, as I entered I was hit with a wave of coolness and sweet scent. I stepped up to the glass protecting the several dozen containers of ice cream as I looked for my favourite flavour.

“Welcome to Old-Timey Ice cream parlour, what can I get you guys today?” The blonde clerk asked as he gestured to the rows of ice cream.

I ordered my favourite flavour but then saw the different cone options, “Oh, and can I get that in a waffle cone too please?” I asked as I held onto my wallet in my pocket.

“And I’d like a mint chocolate chip in a normal cone,” Rodrick said, stepping up beside me at the counter.

“Are you ordering separately or together?” The clerk asked as he quickly scooped my ice cream up and handed it to me, then did the same for Rodrick.

“Sep-“ Rodrick put his arm out in front of me and cut me off, “Together, how much is it?”

“Your total is eleven thirty-five.” Rodrick pulled out his wallet and paid for the ice cream before grabbing my hand and leading me outside.

“I don’t know what to comment on first, you choosing mint chocolate chip, you paying for both our ice creams, or you holding my hand. It almost seems as though we’re on a date right now.” I said with a quirked eyebrow as I savoured that first lick, Rodrick met my gaze and hesitated for a moment looking from me to our linked hands.

“You say that like it would be a bad thing!” He said with a smirk letting go of my hand and wrapping his arm around my shoulder instead. “Also, mint chocolate chip IS the best flavour in the world.”

He waved his ice cream in my face offering the first taste I just made a disgusted face and ducked under his arm, “Gross! I bet you like eating toothpaste, you weirdo!” I said with a laugh putting a couple steps in between us.

“No, now that’s gross, I just really enjoy brushing my teeth. I’m not a crazy person y’know.” He flashed a toothy grin, albeit not having the straightest teeth his teeth were on the whiter side.

“Mmm, maybe not that type of crazy person but definitely still a bit crazy. Anyways, are you still going to show me that skate park?” I asked licking away at my ice cream happily, Rodrick nodded and we walked back to his car.

The drive over was much shorter than the one to the ice cream parlour, Rodrick had me hold his ice cream while he drove. But of course, he had to multitask and have me hold the ice cream near his face whilst he drove, which had me hoping there was somewhere I could wash my hands. I now had sticky ice cream and Rodrick’s spit all over my hand from failed attempts at eating ice cream, not to mention I learned Rodrick bites into his ice cream due to the fact he bite my finger.

I’m honestly struggling to decide which is the weirdest and the grossest, though in my heart it’s still probably the flavour. I really hate mint chocolate chip.

“Andddd here we are Plainview’s one and only skatepark, there's also a playground hidden on the other side.” He pointed over to the park as he pulled into one of the parking spaces, my eyes were fixated on the skatepark packed with people a few hundred feet away from us.

“Oh sick, there’s already people here. Thank you, Rodrick, I literally was going to die if you guys didn’t have a decent park and skaters here. Maybe your town isn’t so ‘plain’.” I snickered as I handed him his ice cream.

I climbed out of the van and cleaned my hand off with one of the napkins I took from the parlour, I’d still have to run it under some water on it as it was a bit sticky. I made sure to grab my board and we walked over to the skate park, it was a beautiful sight to see. Girls and guys all skating freely, doing tricks, falling on their asses, it had everything it did back at home. Down to the trio in one of the corners smoking and laughing their asses off every time someone fell, this was really starting to feel like home. I turned to say something to Rodrick and I could tell from his body language despite there being a smile on his face he didn’t really want to be here. The way his eyes darted back and forth, or how he hid one of his hands in his jean pockets. He even was eating his ice cream slower than before, he was almost done with it but had barely made any progress since we left the car. I looked from him and back to the park thinking for a moment, before ultimately deciding that I visit the skate park on my own another day.

“You’ve said you haven’t skated before right, Rodrick?” He whipped his head towards me, a bit surprised I said something.

“Yeah uh no, I haven’t skated before. Why..?” He asked skeptical but I just smirked and didn’t respond.

I tucked my board under my arm and took his hand then pulled him off towards the street beside the skatepark. I quickly finished the rest of my ice cream, enjoying the sweetness of the waffle cone as I did. I set my board down in the middle of the street after checking for any cars, once the coast was clear I started my lesson.

“Why you ask, well today we’re going to start your skateboarding lessons is why Rodrick! I promise it’s just as easy as driving a car, with waaay less rules though.”

“Wait what, since when was this happening?”

“Since like right now, skateboarding is fun and all but it’s a whole lot more fun when you’ve got a skatemate. So this is also me officially asking you to be my skatemate, I’ll teach you everything I know in return.” I said flashing him a smile, he hesitated for a moment looking from me to the board, and back at the skatepark before responding.

“I mean I guess I’ll be your skatemate, which is a stupid name by the way.” He said with a shrug shaking his head, I feigned hurt and wiped an imaginary tear from my eye.

“Ouch Rodrick! My poor poor ego, me, and my friend upstate came up with it. Oh how cruel you are, is this revenge for calling your band lame?” I teased with a curious expression, though it didn’t seem like he caught on to my teasing.

“Oh well uh actually it’s stupid in a cool way, yeah like that book is stupid but it’s still really good..?” He said nervously, clearly worried that he’d hurt my feelings, I tried to stifle my laughter but failed, confusing him even more.

“Pfft- oh my gosh, Rodrick I was kidding! Yeah, it’s a stupid name, you didn’t actually hurt my feelings. Literally, something me and Lorei came up with when we were like ten.” I said, shaking my head and giving Rodrick a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything and just looked away, though I could still see the faint pink hue on his cheeks which made my stomach flip at the sight. Though I shook away the image that was slowly ingraining itself into my mind and cleared my throat, we'd been standing here and I had yet to be able to get to my point.

“Anywaysss, first lesson standing on your board! First, we need to figure out if your stance is regular or goofy, please do me a favor and turn around.” Rodrick looked skeptical but turned around, before he could ask why I gave him a barely gentle shove forward.

He tumbled slightly, catching himself on his left foot, “Hey what the hell! What does that have to do with skateboarding?!”

“Everything my dear, you caught yourself with your left foot so that basically means that is your dominant foot. Which means you ride goofy just like me, so you’ll probably feel most comfortable standing like this.” I stepped onto the board balancing carefully in a demonstration, “Also sorry for shoving you. It’s kind of a right of passage my friends and I used to do, so it’s a really bad habit. Anyways it’s your turn, try to step on and balance.”

“You and your friends sure are wei-“ He tried to say as he stepped onto the board but wasn’t paying attention, the board slid off to the side from under his foot. He fell forward towards me, I just barely managed to catch him and keep us both from falling to the floor.

“Pfft- maybe try watching the board when you’re stepping on it. But here you can hold onto me. I'll help you balance since it’s your first time.” I tried to avert my eyes knowing how red and embarrassed I was the first time I tried riding.

Eventually after a bit more back and forth and with my guidance Rodrick was able to almost effortlessly ride up and down the street. I clapped as he turned around using a side street and headed back towards me, he came to a stop —well more like tumbling to a stop— panting heavily and smiling wildly. It was obvious Rodrick was having a blast and even though I’d barely been able to ride I was too, Rodrick’s smile and excitement were contagious so it was hard not to smile and celebrate alongside him.

“I cannot believe I’ve been missing out on this my entire life, I really appreciate you teaching me this has been so much fun. Though I haven’t fallen on my ass this much since I tried learning how to ride a bike.” He said with a laugh as he carried the board over to me while he pushed some of his hair back and out of his face.

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that! My grandpa straight up removed the pedals to teach us how to ride, I have no idea how it worked but it did.” I took my board and we sat down off to the side on the curb.

“What? I refuse to believe that actually worked, that sounds more like torture.” He sat down next to me, closer than I was expecting as our thighs were squished up against each other.

“Probably cause it was, I struggled with it but hey my grandpa was certainly on to something. How did you learn how to ride a bike though, Rodrick?” He paused for a moment staring down at the pavement below our feet.

“Uhm well I never really learned how to ride one, I tried but I just couldn’t get the hang of it.” He admitted quietly as he kicked the gravel further into the road, I didn’t know what to say.

“Really? Guess that means I’ll take up your time next weekend and teach you that too, we could put the no pedals method to the test yeah?” I nudged him lightly with my elbow and smiled over at him.

He looked up from the ground and up at me carefully reading my expression, he opened his mouth to say something but hesitated before just smiling and nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I appreciate it.”

We sat for a while in a thoughtful silence enjoying each other’s company and our sugar rush coming to an end. I brought a hand up to cover my yawn, my eyes crinkling in the corners as I did. I turned to see Rodrick staring forward, his eyes following any car that happened to drive past, eventually, he turned to me as he felt me staring.

“ I didn’t get the chance to ask this earlier but who’s Lorei?” I was a bit surprised by the question, I hadn’t expected him to pick up on the name let alone ask about them.

“Lorei aka Lorelai was my next-door neighbor and ‘bestest friend in the world’, as she would describe it at least. We grew up together and were, well still, really good friends. We became friends because she had crawled through a hole their dog made in the fence to my yard , and her parents went crazy looking for her. But we had a blast crawling and rolling around in the dirt together, she loves the outdoors and is the reason I skate.” I said staring off with a fond smile as I thought back to the bubbly purple-haired mess I called a friend.

“Wow, she certainly sounds fun and like a really great person. I’m sorry you had to move away and stop being neighbors.” He nudged me gently with his elbow in what I think was meant to be comforting.

“Yeahhh, it’s alright though. I got a new neighbor to have crawl through a hole into my yard.” I said easing the mood with a grin, Rodrick laughed at my comment shaking his head.

“I don’t know about crawling but I’ll climb your fence if that’s what you want.”

“I could use something new so I guess that’s fine, but don’t sue my family if you break your neck doing so!” He rolled his eyes at me but we both laughed regardless.

Nothing about the conversation was particularly funny but we still laughed heartily, it was less of a joke and more of a positive energy building between us. The air felt softer and less like it would consume me if I embarrassed myself, and the conversation was light and a lot less like two teenagers who had met just days before. It was starting to feel like two friends who’d known each other for years and could truly be themselves around each other.

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[ladylooch]

Hi, can you please write a timo meier imagine based on this video https://youtu.be/xzZ_oHesy-s, it doesn't have to be christmas themed. Thomas Bordeleau goes undercover at Sharks' Ice (public indoor ice rink owned by the sharks organization, including the sharks offical practice rink) wearing an earpiece while timo, tomas hertl, and erik karlsson tell him what to say and ask through the earpiece and thomas walks up to reader and her friends including the little kids that are with them, who were playing hockey, asks them about their favorite players, reader says timo, and one littie girl in the group points exposes her crush on timo, embarrassing reader, not knowing that timo was listening to the whole thing, so then Bordeleau starts asking reader her age and stuff, and then timo comes out and walks up to reader from behind, which surprises her?

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, I could write an entire dissertation about this video. Specifically at 2:30 when the little kid doesn’t know who Timo is. Timo’s. Damn. Face!!!!!!!!!!! Absolutely hilarious. Also at 2:02 I went absolutely FERAL at how he was leaning against the table. Good god, I need a minute. Don’t even get me started about 2:45 when the Timo thinks we just ruined Santa for that little girl and looks terrified at the camera. I literally kept coming back to the video for more inspo and I just started laughing so much that I got distracted every time.

In conclusion, Thank you for this video 😘 It has given me life. I will be rewatching this frequently.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None!

Your nanny kid, Gia, is just about to combust at the sight of the Zamboni finally clearing off the ice. She is bouncing on her tiny, Bauer skates with excitement next to the other kids.

“Y/N!” She shrills. “It’s happening! We are gonna go!”

She’s been looking forward to this event for weeks. She wasn’t even sad when her parents weren’t able to make it with her. She knew you would take her. You would show up even if they wouldn’t. Not just because you’re paid to, but you’re a huge Sharks fan and have a glint in your eye for a certain number 28. You know he’s going to be here and your skin buzzes with similar anticipation to Gia’s. Although, if you’re being honest, you’ll probably stay dead silent when it comes time to meet him. This is really Gia’s show, you’re just along for the ride… and the money.

The Zamboni doors close and the little kids shuffle onto the ice with their guardians. The kids were able to bring their sticks, so they skid along to the various pucks the Sharks ice staff tosses onto the slick surface. You’re a decent skater and wind your way around the rink with Gia as she works on carrying the puck.

“Good job!” You encourage her when she is able to keep it on her stick the entire lap. “You’re getting so good, G!”

“I know!” She beams.

A few Sharks players trickle onto the ice including Thomas Bordealau and Erik Karlsson. You have to admit you’re a little disappointed when you don’t see Timo. You thought the flyer said he would be here? Maybe he will be later. Or maybe he couldn’t make it after all.

Thomas Bordeleau skates by once, doing a once over of the two of you as Gia stick handles the puck perfectly. He nods his head in admiration and skates closer.

“Hey ladies, how are you today?”

“Thomas! I’m great!” She cheeses excitedly.

“You know my name, can I know your name?” He wonders.

“I’m Gia! And I’m the biggest Sharks fan you’ve ever met!” 

“Wow! Really!? I don’t know. You’re pretty little.” He holds his hand over her head and she swats at it.

“Not for long. I’ve grown a half inch in the last month.” She’s so proud of that and boasts at him with a smirk.

“Whoa, you’ll catch up to Sharkie in no time.” He points to the Sharks mascot racing kids down the ice around us.

“Yeah.” She grins, showing off her missing front teeth.

“So, Gia who is your favorite player?” He asks.

“Ummmm, well probably Timo Meier because she’s obsessed with him.” She points at you with a glint in her eyes. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” You try to play it off. I mean, she isn’t wrong. The man is beautiful and you have certainly admire his ass…ets a time or two.

“You stalk his Instagram every day.”

“No.”

“You were this morning. You were like, he looks the best in blue suits.” She adjusts her tone to mock you. This kid. If she think’s she’s getting a Happy Meal after this…. 

“Ah… okay. I guess I need to be more mindful of my social media consumption in front of young eyes.” You cough. 

“It’s all good. Timo’s a good looking dude in those tight suits.” Thomas chuckles, pausing for a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.��� 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Thomas. What do I have to do to be your favorite player?”

“Look like Timo.” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. He bursts out laughing, tossing his head back. You hear a slight noise buzzing but can’t quite put your finger on where it comes from.

“I don’t know. He’s a little stuffy with all the suits he wears.”

“No way. He looks like a gentlemen. Then he gets on the ice and blows people up with his checks. It’s hot. You could learn something from him.” The slight buzzing returns, but it’s louder and sounds more like laughter.

“Okay, PR is telling me I need to tell you that I’m currently mic’d up.” Thomas snorts, squeezing his eyes shut as he laughs harder.

“Oh.” Your smile drops. Okay now, it’s not as funny.

“And Timo is listening.”

Your mouth drops open in horror and surprise. 

“Great.” You say with gritted teeth, looking down at Gia who watches the exchange with curious eyes. You’re trying to play it off like you’re not absolutely panicking at the idea of your hockey crush overhearing you obsess about him

“Do you wanna say hi?” Thomas quips, eyes dancing with amusement. 

“Ah…. Hi?” You say, cheeks flaming red.

“He says hi back. Wants to know how old you are.”

“Oooookay.” You laugh off, suddenly. Thomas stares back at you expectantly. “Ah… his age.” You respond with a shrug. 

“And Gia is your…?”

“Nanny kid.” You murmur, watching as she skates along to the boards to retrieve the puck she just shot off the dasher. “Gia, be careful. There are a lot of people out here.” You turn back to Thomas.

“You got a boyfriend?”

“Maybe the person asking you these things should come ask me himself?” You snort, rolling your eyes.

“Okay.” He shrugs then skates off without another word, on to the next group.

But Timo never appears. 

As you’re leaving later, hand in hand with Gia, you see the rest of the Sharks players head out as a big group. Thomas elbows Timo in the ribs and you look away, wanting to die all over again. Not only did you obsess about him, but he never came out to pursue it any further. Knowing you’ll never actually have a chance is a disappointment you’ve never experienced.

“We are going to McDonald’s right?” Gia asks you, all innocent now that she wants something.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You promised!” She wails instantly, little face scrunching in irritation.

“She worked pretty hard on the ice as your wing woman, I think you should take her.” You hear a voice behind you. You know it’s Timo and your cheeks instantly flame pink. 

“I don’t know about that. She was spreading secrets out there. Can’t reward that.”

“What if it ends up getting you a date?” Your stomach flip flops. You take a calming breath, looking away like you’re contemplating.

“I guess it depends on with who.”

“Him!” Gia shouts. “Oh my god, are you gonna pass out?”

“Gia, get in the car.” You laugh, shaking your head as Timo chuckles with you. “I think you’ve helped enough.”

“Yes! She says yes!” Gia insists instead.

Timo grins, then looks at you to confirm.

“You going to actually ask me or do we need Thomas to do that too?”

“Can I come to McDonald’s with you?” You close your eyes, tilting your head back and laughing.

“Never picked you as a happy meal guy.”

“I’m a Big Mac guy, but if a happy meal gets me a date, I’m in.”

“No…” You say to him. His eyebrows bolt up in pure panic. “To your earlier question, No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Relief is visible on his face, making a warm bubble fill your chest. 

“That’s good. Would be kinda awkward seeing him at McDonald’s.” 

“Are we going to McDonald’s or what!?” Gia screeches out the door.

“You sure you wanna go?”

“Yeah. Something tells me you’re worth it. I’ll follow you.” He winks, then walks away to his expensive, black car, leaving you to wonder if this is actually real life.

You find yourself smirking at that image, a year to the day later, while you, Timo and Gia visit that McDonald’s again to recreate your first date.

[yourkimjaejin]

MoJiLe Time Created

Hihi! This post has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I've worked up the courage to post it. This one revolves around how Maknae/Noona time was created. But I'm changing the name to MoJiLe Time because its cuter! Enjoy ~ Author Izzy

Legend: November 2018

Moxy walked into the quiet Dream dorm. She was a woman on a mission. She walked back to the dormroom with one destination in mind. She got distracted by the 2/3rds of Dream maknae line lying on Jisungs bed. It wasn’t normal for the two to sit in silence together. Moxy was obligated to see what's up. 

“Hey boys. You all good?”

Jisung turned his head to the left, meeting Moxy’s eyes, “We’re bored. The hyungs left us behind.” 

“Why don’t you just go out and do something, then?” 

Chenle huffed, “The manager said we were quote unquote too young to go out alone.” 

“Ahh.” Moxy was gonna leave but something kept her in place. She couldn’t just leave them like this. Moxy huffed, her plan would have to wait. 

“Alright put your shoes on and grab a jacket.” 

“What for?” “Why should we?” 

Moxy rolled her eyes, “Well I was gonna volunteer my services so you two can get out of the dorm. But if you’d rather stay here–” Moxy didn’t even have to finish her sentence before the two boys jumped up. Moving faster than ever, Moxy blinked and they were ready ushering her out of the door.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

First stop for the three was Chenle’s house. Right when they left the dorms, Chenle's mom called. After a few moments of rapid fire chinese Chenle turned taxi driver and gave his address. Chenle’s mom had cooked and told her son to invite his members over. What followed was Chenle showing off to others that Jisung and Moxy got his mother's food and the other didn’t. The three members couldn’t stop laughing everytime Haechan called to whine. 

From there, Moxy had a manager drive them to Lotte World. She couldn't stop smiling as she watched the boys run around and act like the kids they were. Sometimes remembering how much all the members gave up to be where they are leaves a heavy feeling that's hard to shake. That feeling fades as she watches Chenle and Jisung pick out animal headbands to wear. Jisung trying to argue against Chenle in favor of the headband with tiger ears (He was losing). Moxy got pulled into the fun too. They played at the playground and even convinced Jisung to go ice skating. 

Before heading back to the dorm, Jisung had their manager take them to a convenience store for ice cream. Their noona told the manager to go home for the night, the boys and her would take the long way home. As the building past them, the trio didn’t run out of thing to talk about. They even got a bit sentimental just as they arrived at their dorm building. Moxy dropped the two boys off at the Dream dorm before heading down to AG’s. 

Jisung’s voice calling out to her made her pause.

��What’s up Jiji?”

Jisung looked shy, which is adorable. “Could we– could we do this again? Tonight was so much fun.” Moxy couldn’t help herself. She ran over to ruffle Jisung’s hair. The younger accept the affection resignedly. 

“Of course we can. We’ll call it MoJiLe time.” With a promise for two weeks later, Moxy took the stairs to her dorm room. She wasn’t even surprised at the body waiting on her bed for her. 

Renjun sat up, “How was your evening?” 

“It was fun. While you and your friends were off gallivanting, I was entertaining the children.” Moxy slipped off her jacket before plopping onto her bed next to Renjun.

“It was for good reason.” Renjun's fingers started tracing random patterns on Moxy's leg

“Did you guys find presents?” Moxy asked. The singer hummed in agreement. “Good. Chenle deserves a big surprise from us for his 17th birthday.”

“Did you buy anything yet? We can go together if you want?” Renjun put an offer out there while walking to the door. It had been a long day dealing with 5 out of 7 members of Dream. 

“Thanks but I’m good. I got him a pair of shoes yesterday.” Moxy met him at the door. 

“Think we’ll get him to cry?” 

“I think we have a better chance at him laughing at us for surprising him. Have a good night.” Moxy watched him walk down the hall. 

“Night.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Taglist: @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite / @sunflower-0180

[fallinglikethis]

Happy 28th! I'm doing something a little different starting this month. From now on I'll be including fics from other fandoms after the list of 1D fics. There will only be the addition of a few Teen Wolf fics this month, but who knows what next month holds? Anyway, I hope you enjoy! These are the fics I have enjoyed this month:

One Direction:

🌻I think I'm gonna win this time by @lookatyourchoices // 6,953 words // T //  Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Speaking of Harry Styles…” An older woman in the middle of the room stands to ask the question that Louis didn’t even know he was anticipating. “Looks like your old Junior Circuit rivalry might make a reappearance as we progress towards the Grand Prix Final this year. What are your thoughts on going up against the current Olympic gold medalist?”

Louis leans back in his chair, making sure he looks as arrogant as possible. It’ll be fun to ruffle some feathers.

“I say, bring it on.”

OR a Figure Skating AU where Harry is a wunderkind, Louis wears jeggings, and the Grand Prix Final is a perfect place to resolve some tension.

(I LOVE AN ICE SKATING FIC. This fic is so awesome and intriguing, with characters you can't help but root for.)

🌻 Shades of Blue by orphan_account // 1,970 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

It started with a drabble prompt and ended up here. The one where Harry and Louis paint their bedroom.

(The most absurd and adorable story about painting a room ever.)

🌻 Roadblock by LoadedGunn // 19,063 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson 

No one can say Louis isn't motivated to win The Amazing Race. He wants to be the best partner Liam can have, and his mum could definitely use the million quid. But. He noticed Harry two seconds after reading their first clue and then sort of hasn't stopped. How could he, Harry's a two-metre, tattooed, good-humoured charmer who probably has an arsenal of bad jokes and fifty pets with unimaginative names. So he kept an eye on him, like he would all their competitors. Just to measure him up.

Or, an Amazing Race AU where Louis and Liam are the driven, athletic guys who are in it to win it, Harry and Niall are the useless best friends that get by due to luck and possibly magic, and somewhere between Italy and Japan Louis falls inconveniently in love. (Also Zayn is the supermodel host.)

(This Amazing Race au lives up to the name. It is amazing. So fun to read and focusses on the cooperation between two teams, rather than competition. I've always loved how kind the competitors on Bake Off are to each other and this feels a lot like that, full of so much care.)

🌻 What You Waiting For? by @lululawrence // 4,020 words // NR // Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles

“I’m only here to establish an alibi.”

Harry closed the door behind Grimmy, who had already rushed in and headed to the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home?” Harry offered, kind of. More like questioned. What did he know? It was half eleven on a Friday after a long week of work and his flatmate’s best friend randomly barged in talking about alibis.

(A fic full of a cozy warmth that felt really sweet to read.)

🌻 Rear View by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright // 12,499 words // M // Nick Grimshaw/Zayn Malik //

“So,” Nick says, “Still have a few things left to do tonight, you say? Could I help at all?”

“You want to get your hands a little dirty, do you?” Zayn prods.

“Well, I might as well, I suppose.” Nick takes his coat and scarf off and scans the garage for a safe, clean place to set them down. “Maybe be slightly less useless next time something happens? Plus, you look desperate for another pair of hands.”

Zayn motions to a leather bench seat on the ground a few yards away. “You can set your stuff there. Cleanest seat in the house.”

“Hmmm,” Nick hums, walking back over towards Zayn, rolling up the sleeves of his black button down to reveal very slim but toned forearms. “So,” he says when he’s next to him, peering into the engine, “how can I be of service?”

___

Nick's car breaks down at the start of a road trip and Zayn's the mechanic who tows him to his small town, where it looks like he'll be stuck for a few days.

(There is not enough praise that I can give this fic. It takes place over a couple of days but still manages to feel like the best kind of sizzling, slow burn. So good!)

🌻 Through the Wall (Through the Wall) by @taggiecb // 5,022 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

"We live in adjacent apartment and one day I accidentally knocked a hole in the wall and into your living room. I'm really sorry oh my God you're naked" AU from qulcksilvers.tumblr.com

(A very humorous and wonderful meet-cute between neighbors.)

🌻 head over feet by @rockstarlouis // 664 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis falls head over feet, in spite of himself.

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

(A glimpse of a moment of longing and having, captured beautifully in so few words.)

🌻 If You're Going My Way by @zanniscaramouche @larrysballetslippers @larry-hiatus @hershelsue @idolizingthelight  // 9,238 words // T // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson 

Louis couldn’t be considered quite sane, in fairness. Sane people did not jump into a stranger’s moving vehicle. Like the first drag, jumping into the car had been a search for the next rush, and Louis was nothing more than a junkie looking for a hit. That’s why it was such a bloody disappointment to have the slowest motherfucker on four wheels with his foot on the pedal. When Louis’ self-indulgent bubble had burst, he’d considered Harry as collateral, or possibly a full-fledged victim of Louis’ poor life choices.

Now, he was rather interested in knowing just what choices this lad had made himself.

--

A game of Truth or Dare lands Louis in a stranger's car. With a broken phone and paper map to guide the way, will they be able to find common ground? Or are they headed for certain disaster?

(This fic kept me guessing what was going to happen next the entire time, and it was so fun finding out what was around each new corner!)

🌻 let me look in his eyes by @dreamersdivin-headfirst​ // 2,118 words // G // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

"Did he know the sign was coming? Oh, then he’s doing it! Let me look at his eyes, let me look in his eye.... Yeah he’s gonna do it...."

based off a post on tumblr and harry's love advice during hsloveontour chicago night 2!

(An adorable proposal fic that just might bring a tear to your eye.)

🌻 until the curtain falls, the show must go on by @infinitelymint​  // 5,364 words // G // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

It's a surprise when it happens.

It's the kind of surprise that hits you like a fist to the stomach, knocking out all the air in your lungs, making you gasp for breath as you blindly grab for the nearest thing to hold on to; to steady yourself on. It blindsides him completely, comes out of nowhere and leaves him shell-shocked and angry.

Three tweets are sent from Louis' account and Harry is none too pleased.

(So emotional and painful and incredible.)

Teen Wolf:

🌻 Font size twenty-four by Vendelin // 10,430 words // E // Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Stiles is a librarian and research professional extraordinaire. So, when Derek comes in, asking for help with research for his new book, it's only natural for Stiles to offer his help. He just didn't count on late night waffle eating, or that his heart would go boom.

(Very cute fic with characters that are easy to fall in love with.)

🌻 A Match Unmade in Beacon Hills by KouriArashi // 47,831 words // T // Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Derek met his soulmate Kate Argent when he was 15, and he's tried for years to understand why his soulmate is so cruel to him. Then he meets Stiles Stilinski, who has no soulmate mark, an extremely rare phenomenon. Stiles thinks that he's destined to be alone forever, but apparently fate has other plans...

(This is one of my favorite authors in the Teen Wolf fandom. I quickly got wrapped up in this fic and it felt so good to see both the good guys and the villains get everything they deserved.)

Once again, thank you to all of the incredible authors in both fandoms who give us all of this stunning content FOR FREE. You are very much appreciated!

[arithecreatorsstuff]

New Discoveries, Old Friends

It's early Friday morning, and you're at practice. You joined a speed skating club on a dare, but soon fell in love with the chaotic energy of the sport. You've got a good squad of fellow skaters, all of whom are very supportive... despite the tall, dark, hunky stranger watching in the stands who recently started showing up. He's clad in armor, hooded, and looks like a one man wrecking crew, but HOT. Speaking of... you give him a wave as you glide by. He waves back. Coach calls a break, so you decide to find out just whom is watching.

You approach the hooded man. He seems, familiar somehow, even with his face hidden.

"Hello, Foxglove. It's been a long time. I was not expecting to find you here, truthfully." The voice, the pattern of speech, you know it somehow.

"Uh, hi. Forgive me for asking, but do I know you? It's hard to tell with all the armor and the hood."

The hooded man pushes off his hood, and you jaw hits the floor. It's a face from a lifetime ago, one you missed dearly. An old friend, whom you had hoped would be more at one point.

"Kuai! So you're my sort-of stalker. It's been years, but somehow you never age. How are you? What's new?"

"Not as well as you, I see. Short track? I did not see that coming. But you always did skate faster than I did."

"You're still the better cryomancer, Kuai. So... you a fan of the sport, or are you interested in trying out? We can use a new relay anchor, Bob managed to sprain his ankle last week, so we do have a spot."

Your old friend laughed, a sound that stabbed you in the heart. He so rarely got to relax in any way, you knew. And like you, was not fond of social gatherings. Skating was one of his few hobbies, but he was more into figure skating. He looked at you, in your skating suit, and a strange look passed over his face for a moment.

"I fear I'm not properly attired, old friend."

"Since this is a try out, what you're wearing minus the armor is fine. I'll borrow a pair of skates, you're a size 11 American, yes? Great, we can use Bob's, he's the same size as you are. Meet me down on the ice in five, okay? I'll introduce you to the crew. They're a good bunch, even if Daria can barely understand English, and Raheem is a clown. Coach Allen keeps us in line, he's tough but fair." Speaking of, Coach is trying to get you back on track, literally.

You head back to the rink, after showing your old friend where he can leave his armor and grabbing Bob's skates for him. He laces up, and you both rejoin the group. Coach looks at your friend, and smiles.

"Making new friends, Fox? Hi, Coach Allen. Wally to my friends, welcome to the team, you're gonna fit right in I can tell." Coach offers his hand, Kuai shakes it.

"Kuai, and Foxglove and I know each other. When we grew up, she was the literal girl next door."

"Old friends, new hobbies? Awesome. Since you two know each other, why don't you see if you can keep up with Fox? Fox, show him how to square up. Four laps, kids." You help Kuai into position. The rest of y'all know the drill. You let me know when you're ready." The ice clears, and you take a moment to focus. You nod to Coach, and he takes out the stopwatch. "On your marks... get set... go!"

You both take off, Kuai just a few strokes behind. He catches up in the second turn, clearly having a blast. He's got a huge grin on his face. You put on a sudden burst of speed, pulling ahead in the fourth turn. The club is cheering you both on loudly. It's close, but you're ahead by a slim lead. And now, he's on pace with you.

"Wanna make a bet? If I win, you buy dinner."

"And if I win, I kiss you."

"Are you encouraging me to try and lose?"

"More like trying to find extra incentive to beat you."

"Okay, I accept."

"Good."

Now the race heats up, neck and neck. In the last turn, Kuai suddenly picks up speed, winning by a narrow margin. You both slow down, and you realize you're going to have to kiss him now. The thought crossed your mind a lot, but thankfully Kuai was talking to Coach, and for a moment, you're given a break.

"Huh. First time I've seen Fox lag behind a newbie. Fox, you've got to focus more, okay? But, I think if Kuai wants a spot, we're more than happy to have him."

"Perhaps I can train with you, but racing? It might be tricky, as I do have a lot going on. I will have to think about it."

"Well, we meet here Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at 7ish, I'm not really a morning person myself, ha ha. We'd love to have you, you're fast for a beginner."

"I will try my best to make time."

"That's fine. Okay, practice is over. See you guys Monday, same time. Kuai, I hope to see you back, Fox seems to enjoy racing you, and you're fun to watch. Your approach is more Chessmaster than speed freak, so you'll do well in real competition too."

Everyone packs up, and heads out of the rink. You change back into street clothes and rejoin Kuai. He stands before you, hands on your hips. Oh, how you used to dream of this, but now? Now you're nervous. You like him, you really do. And that's the problem. You do NOT want to lose him as a friend. And here he is, mere inches from your face, gazing in your eyes. He hasn't even really done anything, and you're weak in the knees.

"As I recall, Fox... you still owe me that kiss. May I collect?" He leans in, placing the softest of kisses on your lips. Your arms wrap around him, one hand entwined in his dark hair, the other resting on his back. His forehead is pressed to yours, and you can see something new in his eyes you can't quite place. After a moment, you find your voice.

"Kuai? Can we have a rematch? Same terms?"

"I win, I kiss you, I lose I buy you dinner? I can think of a better incentive for winning."

"Oh? I'm interested, go on."

"You win, you can do anything you like with me for one night. But, if I win... I get to do the same with you." He raises one hand, caressing your cheek. You know you should say no, but... you're not going to. Not when he's touching you like that. You brush his lips with yours, a soft sign of agreement. He sighs against yours, then proceeds to devour your lips. You melt into the kiss, only to be interrupted by a blaze of hellfire out of the corner of your eye.

"There you are, Sub Zero. We must go, we are needed at the Sky Temple." Great. Cockblocked by his bestie. Just like old times.

"A moment, Hanzo. I need to say goodbye to my friend."

"She seems more than a friend, Kuai. But, as you wish. I will wait outside, be quick though." Kuai nods, the ninja departs. You sigh.

"Yanno, just once, for one day, I'd like the world to stay saved." Kuai smiles, a sad smile knowing exactly what you meant.

"I wish that as well. Fox, I have to go. I cannot if you keep holding me like that although I suddenly do not wish to."

"I can think of a good reward for your safe return though." You press your lips to him once more, a promise of more to come. "Stay safe, and come back as soon as you can." Reluctantly you let go of him, and he leaves.

"Be safe, Kuai. I love you."

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[fruitcoops]

Hi! I love your writing! I live for every notification that you've posted something new.

I really like your fics where Coops are being fluffy and adorable, and the team finds them and are all adorable about it, like the Sirius cuddle one. I think that's my favorite.

Would you write Coops skating together before/after practice, and the team finding them and quietly going mushy watching?

I love those moments, too! This was an interesting (and difficult) fic for me to write, since I've never written Cole before, but I'm so looking forward to him in Vaincre. The song playing at the rink is 'American Gods' by ONR. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Cole frowned. Upon Katie Dumais’ request, he had listened to “Hoedown Throwdown” enough times in the past two weeks to know the rhythm in his sleep, and that third beat just wasn’t lining up. He paused his attempt at working through the mess of his stall and straightened up, removing one earbud—sure enough, different music drifted from outside the locker room.

Someone else was at the rink.

He scanned the locker room, but saw no gear other than his own; two voices burst into faint laughter. Not the janitor, then. “Hello?” he called cautiously. It wasn’t against the rules for him to be at practice early, but maybe it was frowned upon by the others. Oh god, what if he became known as ‘the early guy’? The last ‘early guy’ he knew had become a suckup Coach’s pet, and everyone hated him for it.

There was a clatter, then more of the voices. Cole took his earbuds out and crept into the hall, wincing with each squeak of his sneakers.

Dumo’s at home, so it’s not the kids…Cole bit his lip as he tiptoed around the corner to the rink. “Oh, shit!” someone yelped before dissolving into laughter. He spotted two duffel bags on the bench, still full of gear, before a blur of movement flashed past and he had to duck behind the wall again to stay out of sight.

“Did you just trip over yourself?” Remus shouted across the ice from the other end with a wide grin. Cole craned his neck in time to see the captain nod, red-faced. “The great Sirius Black, everyone. Bravo, sir!”

Sirius skated over and checked him lightly—neither of them were wearing their pads, just skates and regular clothes. It was an odd sight. Cole felt a little like his two worlds were colliding. Off the ice, Remus and Sirius were kind (if a bit intimidating), and close with the team in a way he desperately wished for himself. On the ice, Cap and Loops were a wicked one-two punch that he idolized. They were careful with their words, and closed-off whenever media was around.

But out there, in their street clothes with well-loved sticks and a scattered collection of pucks, they looked so very different than the people Cole thought he knew.

A new song came on and Remus started doing the Sprinkler; Sirius had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath from laughing so hard, only to be dragged back to his feet and pulled along as Remus skated backwards. “If I have to get up, you have to sing for me,” he said with a groan, though his fond smile was visible from twenty feet away.

“Tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,” Remus sang, then paused. “And something, something, something…oh, American gods.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hopeless. Isn’t this your playlist?”

“I only added it for the drumbeat!” Remus protested, spinning him in a slow circle. “What, do you want to change it?”

“No, I want to watch you try to remember the lyrics while I push you over.”

“Wh—” Remus cut off with a squawk when Sirius let go of his hand mind-twirl, nearly sending him to the ice. “Son of a bitch!”

“Yes?” Sirius bit his lip and made a dash for the other end of the rink as Remus raced after him; Cole would never understand how someone so compact could build up that much speed in mere seconds. They chased each other in loops and swirls around the fresh ice, their voices echoing off the empty bleachers that didn’t hold a single fan or camera.

Realization trickled in like summer rain and he rested his shoulder against the wall. If he didn’t know them, Cole would have thought they were just some random couple, instead of two of the most famous modern athletes. He wasn’t watching Cap and Loops warming up for practice—he was watching Sirius and Remus screwing around in their free time, on the equivalent of a date.

Remus tried to dip sideways—a move that had helped him evade countless opponents, though Cole could never figure out—but Sirius caught him around the waist at the last second and lifted him off the ice. “Dirty play!” Remus called, sticking two fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Ten minutes in the box.”

“Ten minutes?” Sirius laughed. “I don’t think there’s an official penalty for picking other players up.”

“You wounded me.”

“Wimp.”

“My emotional state is in tatters,” Remus insisted as he kicked his legs halfheartedly. “I’ll never recover from this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius set him down and turned him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel short when you do that.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you are short.”

“Tremzy is short. I’m above the national average for men’s height by four full inches.”

“Shortie.” Sirius caught his hands and pulled, skating backward across the ice as the next chorus began. “Show my life in a mirror, through the opposite side—”

“Singing won’t get you out of this.”

“—and we kill for that moment, when we long to take flight—”

“How do you even know this song?”

“Because I actually remember lyrics when I listen to music,” he teased, turning them in a wobbly circle.

Remus leaned back, using his momentum to slide closer until they bumped chests. “Poet.”

Cole forgot that they were people, sometimes. Just people, enjoying some well-deserved time out of the spotlight.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Cole jolted and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp of surprise.

James shot him an amused look. “They do this before every afternoon practice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s so…normal.” He knew his bafflement shone through every word, but Pots seemed unbothered. Ahead of them, Sirius was lip-syncing to an old Paramore song as Remus tried to skate around him to get to the goal.

Pots raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

Cole made a vague gesture. “I dunno, actual practice? Running drills? The captain face?”

“The what?” James laughed quietly.

“The captain face.” He felt heat rise to his cheeks. “The one where it looks like you’re about to get reamed out by Cap at any given moment. It’s terrifying.”

“Reyes, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s just his resting face.” Pots clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s the definition of RBF.”

Cole blinked at him. “This whole time, I thought he was gonna kill me if I slipped up.”

“Yup.”

“I’ve been afraid of him for two months and that’s just his face?”

“You get used to it.” He turned Cole back toward the ice, where Sirius’ smile was brighter than every fluorescent light in the building. “But he only looks like that around Loops.”

They stumbled a little going through an awkward attempt at a waltz, but they recovered at the last second, and Remus pulled him in for a light kiss. Cole felt his blush creep to his ears. “Should we go?”

Pots shrugged one shoulder. “They won’t notice either way.”

“This isn’t…creepy? They’re basically on a date.”

“They’re at the rink, remember?” A gleam entered his eye behind his glasses. “That means we get to chirp them for PDA in the workplace.”

Cole paused for a second and looked back, where Remus was playing keepaway with Sirius’ beanie. They darted around each other, practically flying over the ice—their footwork looked as natural as if they were born doing it. “It must be hard for them.”

“What?”

“Finding time to do this.” He glanced at James. “Everyone is expecting them to be one way all the time. I expected them to be one way all the time.”

James’ face softened and he draped an arm over Cole’s shoulders, leading him back down the hallway. “That’s what we’re here for. The best thing about this team isn’t our cohesion on the ice, or the Cup we won, or any of that. It’s that we’re friends, on and off the ice. As long as you remember that, you’ll never have to fit yourself in one specific box.”

Cole blinked at him. In two months of mentorship, he had never thought of James Potter as wise. “I swear you’re the same person that put shaving cream in everyone’s skates and blamed Harzy for it.”

James barked a laugh and ruffled his hair. “No boxes, Reyes. No boxes.”

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

i ain’t gonna face no defeat

in which alex was a figure skater.

word count: 2,916

some willex, juke if you squint

tw: occasional swearing, period-typical homophobic parents (q word is used as a slur exactly once)

———

“Cut off my circulation even more, why don’t you?” Alex grumbles, grabbing his arm away from his sister.

She rolls her eyes and nudges him as he adjusts the arm band. “Hey, feel lucky you’re even doing this. I don’t think Mom and Dad actually realize what you’re skating to.”

Alex hesitates and sucks on his teeth. “You think they’ll be mad?”

“Oh, they’ll be livid,” she deadpans, then smiles softly. “But they can’t stop you.” She gives him a pat on the shoulder as he leans over to pull on his boot covers. “I’m gonna head to the bleachers. Break a leg!”

Alex calls after her, not looking up, “That’s only for theater and you know it, Mel!”

A few minutes later, he’s called to the boards, and he can’t shake off his damn jitters. He knows he’ll be fine once the music starts, but right now his skate guard won’t come off and he really has to pee all of a sudden and oh my god why is he wearing a tank top when it’s so fucking cold—

Alex steps onto the ice, and the announcer calls his name while he glides into a stretch before taking his beginning pose. He ignores the way his arm, raised in a fist, is shaking while the beginning harmonies start to play, and he skates.

•••

Alex began figure skating when he was six. It was an odd situation, really; he didn’t care about doing it one way or another, and he would’ve been fine with not doing it since his parents would always say it was a girl’s sport. His little sister, Melanie, however, wanted to skate so badly, but with her being the four-year-old she was, she was terrified of doing it alone. Begrudgingly, his parents signed him up for lessons alongside her.

Much to their dismay, he was good. Like, really fucking good. He landed his first single jump after only two years, and his first axel after six. He managed to get height in a way that his coach’s other skaters didn’t; maybe it was the inner pent up anxiety making him bounce like a jumping bean, who knows.

Alex wasn’t just good at jumps, either; he got his Y-spin after four years. He was that kid on the ice who accidentally cut people off with an impeccable spiral. When he practiced his programs, the other kids would move towards the boards to give him room and sneak a glance.

As much as Alex liked the attention from his peers (god, that support system was something else), he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that his parents never sat in on his sessions. They would only ever come to the shows and competitions his sister was a part of; he had to find his own ride to the others (thank god for Bobby's parents, honestly). It had made him angry at first that they didn’t want to be involved, but as he grew older, and learned more about himself, he realized he could use it to his advantage. He could skate to anything he wanted.

Alex was 13 when he chose to skate to Somebody to Love. To anyone else, it was very unassuming, just another kid skating to a popular song at the time, maybe even a tribute, since Freddie himself had passed two months before. It was everything to Alex, though. He pulled out all of the stops; his costume was the whole armband and wifebeater getup, and his coach let him assist in choreographing it.

He didn't know it was his last program.

•••

"Hey, Alex?"

He looks up from his math homework and hums in recognition.

Mel bites her lip and leans against the doorframe before mumbling, "I wanna quit."

Quit? Shit, nonononono— "—nonononono, Mel, you can't quit! If you quit, they're gonna make me quit!"

She closes the door softly behind her and walks slowly up to him. "Alex, the only reason I've been skating for the past year was so you could keep doing it. I'm really sick of skating at this point, and I wanna switch to something else. I'll keep going if you really, really want me to, but—" She sits next to him on his bed, lowering her voice to a whisper, "You saw how they reacted to the recital, 'Lex. You think they might make you quit anyway?"

Alex sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. She's right, he knows she's right. It just fucking sucks.

He tilts his head back. "You can quit," he whispers.

Mel places her hand on his and squeezes, whispering back, "I'm sorry." Alex looks back down at her. "I really with there was something we could do, but there isn't," she continues, recollecting her hand. "At least your last program was a good one."

He gives her a sad chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. And, I'll have more time to focus on the band. Luke'll be happy about that."

Mel rolls her eyes, takes a breath, and leaves Alex to his own devices with a pitying look.

If she hears him practicing the beat to Somebody to Love in the basement the night she officially quits, she doesn't say anything.

•••

"Julie, what are you doing up there?"

Julie throws a shoe over the wall of the loft and into the evergrowing pile on the floor. "Cleaning out all of your old junk. Which one of you had a magician phase?" she asks, holding up a cheap, ratty top hat and matching plastic wand. "It was Reggie, wasn't it?"

Alex chuckles to himself, poofing up next to Julie. "Why do you think he knew who Caleb was when we met him?"

Julie lets out a loud laugh, continuing her digging. "Are the other guys here?"

"Nah, they're looking for a gig. I just got back from the park," Alex answers.

“Just the park?” Julie asks sarcastically, and before Alex can retort, she adds on, standing up straight, “Hey, whose skates are these?”

She’s holding his old figure skates in her right hand.

The black fabric is a little faded, with the familiar scuffs still on the toe. His dark blue skate guards are all dusty, but the blades still somehow look intact, given there wasn’t much opportunity for water damage in a loft.

Alex scratches the back of his neck, ignoring the rising blush in his cheeks and bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. “Those, uh, those are mine, actually.”

Julie looks up from the boots at him in awe. “Whoa, you skated? That’s so cool!”

Alex drops his hand, mouth open in hesitation. “Really? It’s not... weird to you?”

He can recall a tight grip on his arm, firmer than the band that had been ripped off. "Alex, what made you think it was okay to pull off this kind of stunt? You don't want people thinking you're some kind of queer, do you? Why we've let you continue this is beyond me, it isn’t any good for you.”

“Why would it be weird?” Julie asks, quirking her head to the side in such a Julie way that Alex would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so worried.

He shrugs, shuffling his feet from side to side, and mumbles with a wince, “I don’t know, because I’m a guy and figure skating is like, a girly sport, I guess?”

Julie shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed with a soft smile on her face. “First off, it’s not inherently girly, and second, if it’s something that you enjoyed, then that’s what matters, right?”

“I guess so,” Alex replies, looking down at his sneakers. Is that all that matters, though? He pauses for a moment in debate, then adds on at Julie’s encouraging expression, “My parents made me quit when I was fourteen.” He takes a breath. “They were never that involved in it, though, they actually only let me because my sister did it. I, uh, after I skated to a Queen song in a full Freddie Mercury getup, they weren’t too happy, and made me quit.”

At some point in his spiel, Julie had put her hand on his shoulder, and now she was squeezing it before pulling him into a hug. “Your parents are stupid,” she mumbled into his chest.

Alex chuckles, something emotionless, a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah. They were.”

Julie pulls away with a gasp, a bright smile on her face. “We should all go skating this weekend! The public rink just opened up a couple weeks ago, and I can bring Flynn so it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself—” she falters, cutting herself off, “I mean, if you’re cool with it. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Alex thinks back to his many (many) practice sessions, and remembers the feeling of finally getting that move right, of flying in the air for that one glorious millisecond, of seeing some of his closest friends every other day. He misses it, of course he misses it. It was his biggest outlet before he focused all of his attention on drumming. But, he can’t help but feel that stupid fucking guilt clawing at his throat, can’t help but imagine oh, so clearly the look of betrayal on his mother’s face the night he came out.

Then again, he had lived the rest of his life out of spite of his parents. Why not keep it going?

“That sounds really fun,” he replies, pulling her back in. “Thank you.”

•••

A world sans Caleb was a new one to Willie. However, it was also a very welcome one, because it was in this world that he was able to just relax with Alex in the studio, enjoying every second they spend together without worrying about the time running out.

Which is why he was (reasonably) surprised when the time ran out.

They throw Alex an impressively offended look as he removed his arm from behind their shoulder. “What?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Willie scoffed.

Alex chuckles to himself, pressing his lips into a line. "As much as I would love to stay here and cuddle with you—" At that, Willie's face goes bright red, and Alex counts it as a win in his head, "—the band and I are going ice skating when Flynn gets here, which should be in about five minutes."

"Oh," Willie's face brightens as they reply, "sounds fun!"

Alex winces. "Yeah, making sure Luke doesn't accidentally become tangible and run over a seven-year-old while playing human bowling on the ice with Reggie is super fun." Willie laughs something golden in response, and Alex only hesitates for a moment before adding on, "Uh- actually, would you want to come with us?"

Willie grows soft, still getting used to finally being included, but quickly schools his expression before replying, "Yeah, I'd love to! Though, fair warning, I'm kind of only good at the one kind of skating?"

Alex quickly scrunches his nose. "That's fine, I'll help you," he offers, slowly untangling himself from Willie.

Willie isn't sure how much help he's really gonna be, but they figure even an amateur would be better than whatever the fuck kind of Bambi creature he is on the ice, so they nod and pull Alex up by his hand off the couch.

•••

They arrived to the rink a few minutes ago, and while Julie and Flynn are buying their rental skates and Luke, Reggie, and Willie attempt to steal some without being noticed, Alex laces up his own skates by himself on an open bench.

It isn't until after he yanks the last bow that he realizes— putting on those skates should not have been that easy.

Yeah, their clothes are usually easy to put on, and they can summon their instruments any time they want, but touching anything else usually takes an immense amount of focus. Hell, the dahlia pin Julie had bought Luke for his guitar strap took five tries to actually hook on rather than just drop to the ground.

And yet, his skates just— went on? Laced up with no problem? His foot didn't go through the sole even once? He wiggles his toes around inside the boot, and only feels the familiar push of fabric against them.

He decides not to question it, to not think about the implications of his skates possibly being attached to his soul, and tries to avoid yet another afterlife crisis as they walk toward the boards. Or, at least, he walks, while Luke just bolts onto the ice with no hesitation, and Reggie quickly follows. Alex falls back behind Julie and Flynn, who step onto the ice and begin gliding around, and Willie somehow finds their way next to him, grabbing onto his hand. They make it to the door, and Willie lets go with a small nudge to the shoulder. "Alright, hotdog, show me what you've got," he jokes.

Alex lets out a small laugh and steps out onto the ice, a weird feeling of deja-vu settling into his nonexistent bones. Once he gathers his bearings, he glides along before maneuvering closer to the middle of the ice and pulling himself into a scratch spin. It takes him a minute to really center the spin, but with the phantom tingling of blood rushing to the tips of his fingers before he pulls in completely, suddenly it's 1990 and he's doing his Lacrimosa program and he wants to try to land every jump he's ever learned, even though he knows that trying his axel right now is a horrible idea, and—

He's exited the spin now, looking back at the door to see Willie about a foot away from it, gripping the wall with a concerning amount of intensity, an odd combination of fear, shock, and something else (awe, maybe?) coming to rest on their face. He skates back over, and Willie's expression doesn't seem to change. "You—" they swallow, "—you can skate."

Alex slides his feet back and forth, his arms behind his back. "Yeah, I figure skated for eight years, actually. Did, did I not mention that?" he asks, smirking a little, knowing damn well he very much never mentioned that.

Willie closes his eyes, sucks on his teeth, and takes a breath, getting over their minor bluescreen moment. "Help me?"

"In order for me to help you, you need to let go of the boards," Alex responds. Willie looks at the boards, then back at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It'll hurt a lot more falling into two flat surfaces rather than one," Alex reasons, and Willie hesitates before finally letting go.

"There we go," Alex says softly, taking both of Willie's hands in his. He begins to slowly pull them along, not caring about passing through lifers, while Willie's feet slip and slide beneath him. Alex tries his hardest not to laugh, and Willie quips, "I thought I was supposed to be the athletic one."

Alex scoffs, "Who told you that? Are you the one lugging around an entire drumset every weekend?" At Willie's laugh, Alex tacks on, "I didn't think so."

They make a full lap around the rink before Alex lets go, having to prevent Luke and Reggie from pulling on some little girl’s milk boxes to make her go faster, because no, that’s not how physics works, and yes, people will notice, Luke.

After, Willie moves to get off at the boards, and Alex pulls a disappointed pout. Willie just motions toward the ice, saying, "I know you didn't just come here to pull me around the whole time, I wanna see your turns and stuff."

Alex hesitates, "But I don't want to leave you here by yourself—"

He’s cut off by a familiar harmony playing in the background, and Luke and Reggie poof by his side in an instant. Alex barely has any time to register it before Reggie is putting a hand on his shoulder and Luke is asking if he’s okay.

And Alex doesn’t know how to answer that right away, if he’s being honest. At first, he thinks he might not be, because all he remembers is scolding, leaving, hiding, but he reminds himself it’s 2020 and he’s a ghost; that his parents are as involved in what was left of his life now as they were when he came out— not at all. The feeling of freedom starts to envelope him; the same freedom as when he danced with Dirty Candy at Eat ‘n’ Beats, the same freedom as when he played the drums at the Orpheum, and the same freedom he had before his last recital. He takes a deep breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex replies, trying to hide his newfound itching to just get back out there.

Reggie drops his hand from his shoulder with a smile; meanwhile, Luke catches notice of Julie and Flynn starting a mini snow fight, to which he immediately races over and shouts, “I want in!” Reggie just shrugs and poofs over. Whether to stop him or join, the world may never know.

Alex rolls his eyes at his friends’ antics and looks back over at Willie, anxious energy seemingly radiating off of him— except, not as it usually does; now it was more excitement than anything else.

“Go show off, Alex,” Willie says, shooting him away with a smile.

Alex unsuccessfully tries to suppress the overwhelming giddy feeling that rises in his chest, and he skates. Again.

Finally.

[blueskrugs]

I Wanna Know You | Matthew Tkachuk

I heard this hannah montana song in a store at the beginning of december, immediately thought of Matthew, and then spent a week with it stuck in my head and trying to plan it out. sorry this isn’t a request, but I needed a break from writing them to remember why I loved writing. yikes. anyway, apparently I’m still incapable of writing fics that aren’t based on or inspired by songs. maybe one day...

length: 2.4k words

When I saw you over there, I didn't mean to stare But my mind was everywhere, I wanna know you

Matthew Tkachuk was magnetic. He’d always been like that, loud, the center of attention, lighting up whatever room he’d walked into. He thrived when all eyes were on him, and he lived to make people smile. That’s where you met him, at a party just before the start of the season, in Gio’s backyard on a night that wasn’t quite summer and not quite fall, either.

You were friends with Johnny's girlfriend, and she’d insisted that you come along. She’d told you that no one would care, and she had been right, because no one had paid you any mind other than asking what you wanted to drink. Besides, looking around, you were pretty sure other people had brought plus-ones or plus-twos and threes. 

Matthew was holding court in a corner of the yard, always with a shitty beer in his hand and a small crowd of people around him. Your eyes kept being drawn to him, not just for the way whatever stories he was telling periodically sent up peals of laughter into the night sky, but for the way his face lit up when he talked.

He caught you in the kitchen when you were grabbing water. 

“I don’t know you,” he said bluntly. You were taken aback. “I mean-” Matthew shook his head. “I’m Matthew,” he said, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding yet another Bud Light. 

“I know,” you said before you could stop yourself. 

Matthew laughed. “You a fan?” 

“Would you stop talking to me if I told you I were an Oilers fan?” You mostly just wanted to see what he would say. 

Matthew wrapped an arm around your shoulders and dragged you back outside. “Nope.”

There's a mark above your eye, you got it in July Fightin' for your sister's reputation

It was well after dark, and you’d had more than a few drinks. Which probably amounted to whatever courage it took to reach out and poke Matthew in the forehead where he was sitting next to you at a bonfire someone had built. 

“Ow,” Matthew said, rubbing his forehead. You hadn’t even poked him hard enough to leave a mark, but there was something there, a cut just above his eyebrow that had barely healed all the way.

“How’d you get that?” you asked.

On your other side, Noah snorted. Matthew flipped him off. “I’ll have you know that I was defending my little sister’s honor.” Noah laughed outright now. “Okay, she and Luke Hughes were arguing about something dumb down at the Lake this summer, and I stepped in.”

“And?” you prompted, because you could tell the story didn’t end there. 

“And I wasn’t paying attention where I was walking and fell off the end of the dock and hit my head.” Matthew somehow managed to look sheepish while grinning as the group sitting around the fire burst out laughing. He rubbed at his forehead again wryly. “My mom says it’s gonna scar,” he added. 

“Maybe leave out the falling off a dock part next time you tell the story,” you told him. 

Matthew grinned at you and winked. You settled back into your lawn chair and took a sip of your drink, watching as Matthew launched into another tale of something that happened at the lake over the summer, thinking that you could get used to this.

Matthew kissed you for the first time later that night, alone in the hallway as the party was winding down, still tasting a little of beer, and, yeah, you could definitely get used to this. 

And valentines are lame So you bring me flowers just for no occasion

The first time Matt brought you flowers for no reason, you were suspicious. It wasn’t your birthday, or anniversary, or Valentine’s Day– and he hadn’t missed any of those things, either. But there they were, waiting on the table in your apartment when you got home from work. You knew they were from Matthew because the card had one of his dumb cheesy jokes on it, but you still didn’t know why they were from Matthew. You snapped a picture and sent it to him, simply asking, “what did you do?”

Matt called you instead of responding. 

“What did you do?” you asked again.

“What makes you think I did something?” Matthew asked. You could hear him pouting. 

“Why else would you give me flowers?” You were still a little anxious about it, and Matthew wasn’t exactly helping. “How did you even get them in my apartment, anyway?” The Flames were on a road trip, had flown out to Chicago that morning.

“Used your spare key and dropped ‘em off before I went to the airport this morning,” he said. He sounded a little proud of himself.

“Matthew,” you sighed. “I gave you my spare key for emergencies,” you chided.

“And I needed to give you flowers!”

“Matt!”

“Okay, I just-” Matthew cut himself off. “My dad used to send my mom flowers from longer road trips, and I always thought that would be something I would do one day.” Matt trailed off, and he sounded hesitant for the first time all conversation.

You reached out and ran your fingers over the petals on one of the roses in the bouquet. They were pretty, and it was cute that Matthew had wanted to give you flowers, had thought of it while getting ready for a road trip in the middle of a busy season. 

“You couldn’t have at least put them in a vase?” you asked, grinning, though Matthew couldn’t see you.

Matt huffed out a laugh, surprised. “I was running late!”

“Yeah, well, now these poor flowers are half-dead,” you told him, holding your phone between your shoulder and your ear so you could root through your cabinets for a vase to rescue the flowers that were indeed wilting a little.

“Then I’ll just have to send you more,” he said.

“Oh my God, Matthew.”

The flowers kept coming throughout that first season together, with no real rhyme or reason: before some road trips, whether they were over a week or just two days, or when he came home from a road trip, showing up at your door and producing a bouquet with a flourish and a crooked grin. It always meant that Matthew had been thinking of you, no matter where he was.

You smile, nеver shout You stand out in a crowd

As Matthew got older, he had developed a habit of adopting rookies. It was entertaining to watch: Matthew, not really much older than a rookie himself, but with an A on his chest nonetheless, going full big brother-mode on all the kids fresh into the league.

Which is why you were woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call from one of said rookies. You listened to Matthew stumble out of bed and root around for a hoodie in the dark, grumbling under his breath about “idiot kids.”

“What happened?” you asked, still half-asleep.

“Fucking ow,” he said, tripping over one of his shoes. “Fucking Zary got in a fight at a bar or something, I don’t know. He asked me to come pick him up.” Matthew had managed to get matching shoes on his feet, and was now looking for his keys. “I’ll be back with him later if I don’t kill him.”

Matthew did not kill Zary, just drove him home and directed him to the guest bedroom to sleep it off, because he did love his rookies, though he would never admit it to anyone. 

The next morning, Connor was waiting nervously in the kitchen when you both woke up.

“Coffee, kid?” Matt asked.

“I didn’t start the fight!” Connor blurted.

Matthew snorted. “I didn’t ask, but good for you, kid.” He started fiddling with his coffee maker. 

“You’re not gonna, like, yell at me?”

“Do you want me to?”

You laughed softly. “Be nice, Matthew.”

“I’m always nice!” Matthew protested. “And, no, I’m not gonna yell, but you are bag skating after practice for a week,” he told Zary, pointing a fork at him. The piece of fruit he’d had speared on it fell off and hit the floor. “Ah, fuck.”

You're fragile and you're strong A beautiful and perfect combination

For the most part, Matthew didn’t let much bother him. He was good at leaving the game on the ice, not taking anything too personally. He did, however, take his game very seriously. He was always trying to be better, for himself for the team, and he prided himself on becoming a leader in the locker room over the years. He took bad losses to heart, and he was the first to blame himself for any mistakes he made. 

The Flames were having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, well, couple of weeks. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating just a little, but it certainly wasn’t pretty. They were losing more than they were winning– they lost every game on a four game road trip, the games they were winning were sloppy, and they were losing ground in the standings. To make matters worse, in the latest game, Matthew had missed an easy goal on an empty net. Yeah, definitely not pretty. 

You made it home before him and waited. 

Matthew slammed the front door when he came in, but there wasn’t a lot of force behind it, like he was too exhausted even for frustration. You had been idly watching an Oilers game because it was on, but you turned the TV off when Matt came into the living room. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, his tie wasn’t tied properly anymore, and his dress shirt was rumpled. 

“Oh, babe,” you said. Matthew made a face at you. “Do you want to change or just-”

“Cuddle?” Matt asked.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come over here.”

Matt wasted no time in coming over and flopping gracelessly onto the couch with his head on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, and he pressed into your hand.

Matthew sighed, long and loud, ending in “Fuck.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you tried, but you both knew you were lying. 

Matthew opened one eye to glare at you. “I hate this so much,” he said. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and he’d been chewing on his bottom lip. He sat up and pushed his hands through his already messy hair. “I don’t understand what’s wrong, we’re supposed to be a better team than this.”

You really weren’t sure how to comfort Matthew, but you hated seeing him like this. You reached out and took one of his hands, pulling him in for a hug. He slumped against you like his strings had been cut.

“I’m supposed to be better than this,” he whispered, and there it was. Matthew could grin his way through a game, letting chirps and insults roll off his shoulders, but when it came down to it, he would always be worried about being good enough, always wanting to impress everyone. To make people proud.

“Oh, babe,” you said again, but this time your heart broke a little for him. Matthew sighed again. “This is not your fault, you know that. You are good, and you’re a good team. You’ll get through this just fine.”

Matthew huffed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t argue with you. You sat quietly in the dark living room for a while, long enough you thought Matthew had fallen asleep. 

“Hey,” you said quietly. Matthew stirred and stretched. “You have a couple days off next weekend. Do you wanna drive out to Banff and do something?”

Matthew perked up immediately. “Can we go dog sledding?”

I like how you are with me In our future history

It was the end of the season, and you were at another backyard party at the Giordano’s. You were idly watching Matthew chase some of his teammates’ kids around. Well, actually, Matt was being chased by some and chasing some others. You weren’t sure how anyone knew who was doing the chasing. The other girls were chatting around you, but you were only half-listening as you watched Matthew scoop up a giggling Tillie Backlund and spin her around.

You couldn’t help but think about how Matthew would be with kids of your own one day. 

“I’m too young for baby fever,” you muttered into your sangria. 

Annica laughed next to you, following your gaze. “He’ll be a good dad one day,” she commented.

“You are not helping!” The other girls were laughing, now, too. 

“Have you two ever really talked about the future?” Meredith asked.

You scoffed. You hadn’t even been together for a year yet. “Not really,” you admitted. 

Your eyes didn’t leave Matthew as he flopped into the grass and let the kids swarm him. And yet. Matthew hadn’t stopped talking about how much he couldn’t wait for you to come down to St. Louis this summer, to really meet his family, to spend time down at the lake with everyone. How much his family was going to love you. 

You’d always dreamed of your future, of a picture-perfect wedding and a few kids and a dog. Growing up, the man of your dreams had always been just that, a dream, but lately when you thought about the future, Matthew was always there. That certainly felt like something important. 

After a few more minutes, Matthew extricated himself from the small mob of kids and made his way over to you, pulling the empty chair next to you close and kissing your temple as he dropped into it. 

“What’re you guys gossiping about?” Matt asked, plucking your glass from your hand and taking a drink. He made a face, but didn’t give it back to you.

“You’re great with all those kids,” Lauren said pointedly. Matthew beamed. 

Your group dissipated a little not long after that, and Matthew tugged you out of your own chair and into his lap. He poked you in the side a couple times.

“You’re awfully quiet.” You made a noncommittal noise. “What’re you thinking about, babe?” he asked.

You nosed at his jawline, pressed a kiss there. “You ever think about having kids?” you murmured.

Matt’s arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into him. “Yeah, of course.” He was smiling softly at you. “Oh.” 

You giggled a little. “Just one day,” you added.

Matthew kissed you, just a quick peck. “Yeah, one day,” he said.

One day didn’t feel so far away if you knew it would be Matthew by your side. Maybe you’d be used to his antics by then.

And maybe someday down the road I'll sit back and say to myself, "Yeah, I thought so"

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings: mentions of a bad home life

a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS

prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred

you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school

it all started when he asked you to join his band

“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”

your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents

who LOVED you by the way

they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house

FOR YEARS you did this

terrorizing lil greg

“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”

“rodrick!!!”

always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)

you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle

starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers

rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley

but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them

whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss

“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”

“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”

you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention

mrs. heffley had after school snacks

“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”

playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won

you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards

when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills

he hit himself in the head with his drumstick

“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”

next step was high school, which was a weird step up

but you guys had each other

you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)

“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”

rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in

but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time

“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”

subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it

like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc

“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone

“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley

the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”

watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what

you’re his guest vocals ☺️

when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys

you could go out wherever whenever

(with parent approval usually)

“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”

“do you even have to ask?”

watching scary movies in his room

“platonic” cuddling in his bed

stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes

“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”

him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him

sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later

“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”

laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg

manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him

rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream

“hey there, hot stuff”

“you’re impossible!”

roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall

his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship

when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god

“dude, that’s your s/o!”

“no, they’re not! shut up!”

hating being apart a lot its so stressful

sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome

you have your own key

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“my parents...they’re just the worst”

rodrick knows its bad when you start crying

he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)

you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you

dozing off on him, as per usual

dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical

you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”

comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else

“come here, you need a hug”

“i need several”

“you’ll get ‘em”

talent show! talent show! talent show!

you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him

but greg managed to save the day

“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”

he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show

more joyrides in the van

absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up

“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”

“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”

finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company

but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?

you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van

you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss

and you guys kissed for a while

okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background

✨magical✨

it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue

okay it was a little awkward actually

“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”

“yeah...wanna do it again?”

“oh, for sure”

not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating

“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley

“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley

“gross” -greg

mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”

not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty

“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers

summer vacation with him

it was always SWEET

going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times

“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”

“you’re lucky you’re cute”

hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!

PROM AH HAH HAH

seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)

but he just couldn’t stop staring at you

“rodrick!”

“what?! you’re stunning!”

honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on

but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house

im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on

and also passing out on each other

“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”

“i have that effect on people”

he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though

“pancakes? for me?”

“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”

(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)

you guys really did just spot on get each other

okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

relationship goals, honestly

fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight

[miracleonice87]

Thousand

a Tyler Seguin one shot

a/n: I’m back! Last week was busy for me and this one is, too, but I have three other WIPs coming up after this one within the next little bit, so stay tuned. also idk if anyone else watches One Tree Hill (I know Tyler does 😉) but his family gives me major Nathan, Haley, Jamie, and Lydia Scott vibes in this one.

summary: still playing for the Stars, Tyler is recognized for his 1,000th career game and celebrates with his wife (the reader), family and team.

warnings: husband and dad Tyler being cute with his family and becoming a slightly silver fox (I think that def deserves a warning); hint of a daddy kink lollll

_____

February 22, 2025

Dallas

“Mama! Can I wear my new jersey from Uncle Jamie? Please?”

You pursed your lips, fastening the back onto your emerald earring as you looked at your five-year-old son’s reflection behind you in the mirror. You turned away from your vanity to meet him at eye level.

“Baby, you should wear Daddy’s jersey tonight,” you told him gently, rubbing his back. “We’re celebrating a really big milestone for him, so he’s gonna be recognized out on the ice, and we’re gonna be there with him, remember? I know it would mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.”

Luca pushed his bottom lip out just a smidge, pouting just like Tyler was famous for doing. You bit your own bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

“Okay. Well, can I wear Uncle Jamie’s next game?” Luca bargained.  

You smiled at his tenacity and smoothed your hand over his crisp white dress shirt that you’d laid out for him. You put your forehead to his and assured, “Absolutely.”

Luca perked up and stood a little straighter at your promise.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said. You kissed his cheek and said, “You’re welcome, baby. Thank you for understanding.” He nodded and turned to leave the room, presumably to pull a 91 jersey from the ever-growing collection in his closet. He stopped short and turned back to look at you.

“Hey, Mama?” he began. “Hmmm?” you prompted, trying to fasten your necklace and suddenly wishing you’d had Tyler put it on you before leaving — not only was he much more capable, but the way he always kissed the nape of your neck after securing the clasp made you melt each time.

Luca paused, smiling down at his sock feet before lifting his gaze to you again.

“I’m really happy for Daddy,” Luca said with a smile so sincere it made you melt. You were such a sap for these Seguin boys.

You nodded, choking back tears. “That’s sweet, baby,” you said. “I’m really happy for him, too.”

_____

An hour later, after dressing yourself, your son, and your two-year-old daughter, you pulled into the private parking area within the gates, Luca bopping up and down in his car seat, ever anxious to get inside the arena. The moment you unloaded both kids, they took off for the door to the arena.

“Luca Paul Seguin, slow down, please!” you instructed in your best mom voice, fumbling to throw both your purse and the diaper bag over your shoulders. “Hold onto your sister’s hand, bub,” you requested.

Luca smiled brightly and turned toward Harper, extending his hand toward his toddling little sister, who took it with a giggle. You finally caught up to the two of them and scooped up your daughter as you stepped onto the elevator, headed to the front office floor. When the doors opened, you were greeted by Tom Holy, the Stars’ VP of communications who had become a close friend over the years.

“Here are the real stars of tonight’s show!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands once, making you laugh. Luca ran to him for a hug and Tom playfully dusted off Luca’s little shoulders that now donned his favorite black Seguin jersey.

“Nice jersey, Luc! Hey, I gotta tell you, though, we have something else for you and your sister to wear tonight — if you want to,” he said.

You shot Tom a warning look as he produced a black tote bag from the reception desk, telling him, “You did not.”

He gave you a wink and said, “Do you know us at all by now? Of course we did.”

Much to Luca’s delight, Tom pulled two home green jerseys from the bag, with white 91’s printed on the back and sleeves and the “A” adorning each chest. But the nameplate didn’t hold your last name — instead, it read “DADDY,” with “1,000” printed below the jersey number. Luca jumped up and down with the jersey in his hands, while Tom handed the smaller jersey for you to dress Harper in.

“And we got a little something for you, too,” he added, reaching his hand into the tote bag once more. Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard.

“Why me?” you questioned, feeling completely undeserving.

“Because, he says it himself all the time — he wouldn’t be the person he is without you,” Tom told you earnestly. “Tonight we’re celebrating all of you.”

He handed you a small black box and you froze for a moment before he extended it further, insisting that you accept it. You slowly grasped the box and pulled it open. Inside lay a pin nearly mirroring the style of lettering on the back of the kids’ jerseys, but instead it read “Seguin - 91 - 1,000,” encrusted in diamonds and emeralds.

You covered your mouth with curled fingers, attempting to steel yourself so that the waterworks wouldn’t commence just yet. You warmed inside at the incredible kindness of the gesture, giving Tom a hug.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said softly. “You guys are always first class.” He waved you off as you retrieved the pin from its box and fastened it on the lapel of your long black blazer, paired with a lacy camisole, jeans and black heels. You propped Harper on the desk to switch out her jersey for the new one, Luca having already made his own outfit change.

_____

In the tunnel, you had Harper on your hip and held tightly to Luca’s hand to prevent him from running to the ice and interrupting warm-ups. Your kids were used to standing at the boards where they could watch the guys drill and give their dad knuckles on the glass — where he could tap his blade in front of them each time he skated past. But not tonight. They might not realize it for years to come, but tonight would be even more special than watching their dad skate in front of them.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder — Jim Nill’s. You smiled at him and leaned in for a hug as he greeted you warmly and gave Luca a fist bump.

“And this little one…” he added, tapping Harper’s nose lightly as she grinned up at him. “She’s gotten so big. She’s too cute — you sure she really belongs to Segs?”

You laughed and remarked, “Pretty certain, yeah. If you saw her dramatic side, or how she is with the dogs, you’d see the resemblance.” It was Jim’s turn to chuckle.

Tom sidled up next to the two of you and advised you on how the presentation would go.

“So, we’ll roll out the carpet, and you guys will head all the way down to the end. Jim and Bones will follow. Tyler will come and stand next to you guys on the ice and then we’ll do the presentations,” he instructed. “That sound okay?”

You nodded and smiled at Tom. “Yeah, it sounds great. Honestly, I’m just a little nervous about holding onto these two so none of us fall on our asses,” you half-joked.

“Well, Gramma can help with that.”

At the sound of the familiar voice behind you, you spun around and gasped, while Luca exclaimed, “You’re here!”

There stood not only Jackie, but also Paul — the two were always willing to come together for momentous occasions in their children’s lives, especially now that you and Tyler had given them the gift of grandchildren, and you were grateful. You had had no idea that they were coming, even having spoken to Jackie the day before, asking her once more if she was sure she didn’t want you to book her a flight to Dallas.

Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, completely at a loss for word as they flanked you. You squeezed each of them tightly and whimpered, “Does Ty know?”

Paul shook his head. “He has no clue,” he responded. Jackie added, “And the girls are up in the suite already. They wanted to watch it all up there.”

You could only shake your head repeatedly, barely having time to recover before hearing the PA announcer ask the fans to turn their attention to the ice. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your knuckle and passed Luca duty off to Jackie, keeping a hold on Harper yourself, as Tom smiled and winked at the five of you.

“Not even a warning, Tom?” you teased, sniffling. He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder.

“No way,” he remarked. “Your reaction was priceless.” You shared another smile before you saw Rick stepping onto the green carpet near the boards.

“Here we go,” you breathed, leading your in-laws out to the ice past Rick as directed, not without him stopping you to give you a kiss on the cheek, squeeze Harper’s hand, and pat Luca on the back.

You stepped carefully along the fabric-covered frozen surface, concentrating on a beaming Tyler before you, Harper already reaching her arms out for him as he waved at her. You knew immediately that there was no point in fighting her on wanting to be held by her daddy, so as soon as you reached the end of the carpet and gave Tyler a peck, you handed her off to him, Tyler kissing her rosy cheeks.

The crowd “awww���d,” but you could only concentrate on the dumbfounded expression Tyler wore upon looking up from Harper’s “Daddy 91” jersey to smile at you before noticing his parents only a few feet behind. Rarely, if ever, left speechless, Tyler was completely in shock.

Jackie came forward to reach for Tyler, singing, “Surprise!” as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe you guys are here,” Tyler finally said, his voice shaky. Jackie kissed his cheek and pulled away to wipe tears from her eyes.

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, son,” Paul assured as the two men embraced.

After thanking his parents, Tyler crouched down to greet his boy — practically his own self, in miniature.

“Cool jersey, bubba,” Tyler said, glowing with pride as he nudged Luca’s chest and squeezed his hand.

“It says ‘Daddy 91’ on it!” Luca pointed out. Tyler giggled boyishly and kissed Luca’s forehead. “It sure does, doesn’t it,” he said, Luca nodding.

Tyler stood upright once more, snaking an arm around your waist as you held onto Luca’s shoulders in front of you, smoothing his hair affectionately. Tyler then noticed your new pin, running the back of his index finger over it and commenting, “Wow. This is unbelievable.” You could only nod.

“You look beautiful, baby. But what, no ‘Daddy’ jersey for you?” he asked softly with an ornery grin, making your cheeks warm as you pushed your shoulder into his chest. You shared a quiet laugh and he kissed your temple, then the PA announcer turned over the floor to Jim.

“Stars fans, you all know better than most just how much this night means to our number 91,” Jim began. “We as an organization have watched him grow, both as a person and as a player, since his fourth year in the league. We have witnessed the way he has blossomed, from an outstanding young player into a seasoned veteran. Tyler Seguin has become one of the most prominent leaders of this franchise, and I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we could not be more proud to call him a member of our family.”

The crowd cheered, so loudly that Jim had to pause, Tyler blinking back tears as he squeezed your hand tightly and nodded to the fans appreciatively. Even Harper began to clap, making Tyler laugh and kiss her sweetly, sniffling when he looked back to the crowd.

“Tyler, we thank you for the role that you have played thus far during your time as a Dallas Star, we look forward to many years and celebrations to come, and we recognize you tonight for reaching another milestone in your career in the National Hockey League — 1,000 games. We are thrilled to have your lovely wife and your beautiful family here with us tonight to celebrate you. Now I invite our captain, your dear friend, Jamie Benn, to join us and present you with gifts from your teammates, then Rick and I will proudly present you with gifts on behalf of the organization.”

You had held your emotions together decently thus far, but when Jamie glided over to you with a huge bouquet of white roses in one arm and a small gift box in the other hand, you felt tears trickle down your cheek. Jamie stopped in front of your family, greeting you first. He gently grasped your shoulder and kissed your cheek as he placed the bouquet in your arms.

“For you,” he spoke. “Love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him — for all of us.” You nodded, reaching up on your tiptoes to wrap your arm around his neck and whisper a thank you of your own into his ear, Jamie smiling at you tenderly when he pulled away.

“And for this guy…” Jamie began, extending the black box, which you now could see was marked with the Rolex logo, Tyler’s way as Tyler wrapped his arm around Jamie, hugging him tightly, the two of them exchanging private words of gratitude. You swiped at your tears as you watched Jamie pull back to kiss Harper’s cheek, making her squeal with delight at the attention her favorite uncle was showing her.

You all laughed, and Jamie turned his attention next to his godson. He bent at the waist to look Luca in the face, his wide grin growing even bigger. Jamie held out his fist and the two engaged in their special shake and bake handshake, Jamie ruffling Luca’s chestnut brown curls atop his head as he stood straight again.

“Love you, buddy,” Jamie told Luca, extending his hand for a low-five. Luca slapped his palm and beamed up at his beloved uncle. “Love you, too,” he confirmed, Jamie winking at him.

Next, Rick approached and presented Tyler with a gorgeous crystal award, engraved with Tyler’s name, the Stars logo, and the date and statistics from his 1,000th game against St. Louis a few nights before. Jim gifted Tyler a silver hockey stick from the Stars organization to commemorate the occasion, and Tyler thanked them both profusely, hugging them as the PA announcer asked the crowd to now look to the scoreboard for a video tribute.

This was one part of the evening you had known was coming — Tom had arranged for you and the kids to be filmed congratulating Tyler on the actual night of his 1,000th game, in the wives and girlfriends suite. You had inquired about who else was being asked to be part of the video, and Tom rattled off the names of some of Tyler’s closest friends, current and former teammates, and most respected fellow athletes — his sisters, Freddy, Derrek, Marchy, Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski, Jordan Spieth, Dak Prescott, and many of the Stars he had played with for multiple seasons all made appearances, including Jamie, who smiled at you as he skated behind you to watch.

“1,000 games. Did you ever think we’d all be here?” Jamie asked you softly as the video started, glancing Tyler’s way.

You, too, looked toward your husband, his face lifted to the Jumbotron, and you noticed the way his handsome features had only become more distinguished with age and the few grey hairs sprinkled near his ears and in his beard. He always groaned when you jokingly pointed them out, but you loved them — in your eyes, they told the story of his life as a man, his life as a hockey player, his life as a dad, his life with you. This occasion was just another chapter of Tyler’s dream come true — your dream come true.

You glanced back at Jamie and nodded, smiling. “Actually... yeah,” you answered, a hint of surprise in your tone. “I think I did.”

_____

Late that night, long after you’d put the kids to bed — with Luca having insisted on sleeping in his new jersey — you and Tyler lay cuddled up on the couch, wine glasses now empty on the end table, feet entangled on the ottoman. The gifts Tyler had received were propped on the mantle across from you, out of reach of children’s hands and dogs’ paws. Tyler kissed the top of your head, inhaling your scent deeply as you absentmindedly fiddled with the button on his loosened dress shirt collar.

“Are you happy?” you asked softly. Tyler breathed a chuckle. “I don’t think happy even begins to cover it,” he told you, smoothing his hands up and down your bare arms. “It’s more like… amazed. But it’s not even because of the 1,000th game.”

You rolled your head toward his to look up at him, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean, baby?” you asked.

He glanced at the new additions to his memorabilia collection and then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a thoughtful smile.

“The ceremony was great. The best. I’ll remember that for the rest of my life,” he told you. “But what I’ll remember most is the way you looked, carrying the baby and just smiling at me walking onto the ice. And the moment I saw my parents with Luca between them.” Tyler’s voice quivered as he spoke, and you tightened your grip around his waist, laying your stomach against his to lean up and kiss his jaw. Tears shone in his eyes as he gave you a grateful look, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss your fingers.

“My career has been far better than I deserve,” Tyler added. “But what makes me the happiest is just getting to do life every day with you, and the babies. And my parents and sisters, too. I’m just really feeling blessed.”

As he sniffed, you pressed a kiss firmly to his lips and said, “Life with you is more than I could’ve ever wished for, Ty. Every day is like a celebration of the love you and I share. Everything else, like tonight — it’s just icing on the cake.” Tyler nodded, giving you one more kiss as he whispered his gratitude for you.

[kythed]

cold war

semi eita x reader

synopsis: how many degrees does it take to melt semi eita? (ficmas day 2!)

“Why would you ever apply for a job at an ice rink,” he says, tone thickly frosted with annoyance, “if you can’t even skate?”

You blink up at your co-worker from the ice, the seat of your pants growing uncomfortably damp. Giggling children and lovesick couples glide by, all far more proficient skaters than you are. You offer the boy standing above you sheepish smile. “It just pays better than babysitting, I guess.”

He doesn’t laugh, just exhales heavily through his nose and hoists you up by the forearm with an unnecessarily harsh grip.

“Ouch,” you say indignantly, but the complaint dies on your lips when he shoots you a glare steely enough to slice through marble. Though the obvious irritation clouding his angular features renders you unable to fully appreciate his good looks, he’s the definition of severe beauty, all fair tousled hair and slate grey eyes.

“Learn how. Or else.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and effortlessly skates away to go rescue a toddler hanging onto the edge of the rink, crying for her mother. You watch as he lifts her up gently and sets her on her feet with an affectionate pat on the head. Then, almost as if he can feel you staring, he whips around and narrows his eyes with an expression that sends a chill down your spine.

You frown, but the pout swiftly turns into a scheming smile.

Semi Eita is cold. But not so cold he can’t be melted.

--

Operation Melt Semi starts small. The next day, you get to the rink early and wait for him to arrive. When he walks through the door, shrugging off his heavy parka, you sidle up to him and offer him a cheery “Morning, Semi!” along with a beaming grin.

“Morning,” he says, not even sparing you a glance as he ducks into the men’s lockers. Your face falls. Damn it. This might be a little harder than you’d previously anticipated.

You try again that Friday when you catch him in the coat room while you’re both sitting on the bench and changing into your skates. He knots his laces almost aggressively, pulling them so tight they cut angry red lines across his palms.

“Your hair looks good like that,” you say tentatively. It’s parted down the middle today, and it really does suit him. “Very nineties.”

Semi gives you an incredulous look before briefly glancing into a reflective window. He turns back, reaches into his pocket, and unwraps a piece of gum without offering you one. You bristle with annoyance but keep the sunny smile plastered across your face-- your cheeks are beginning to numb.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Um, yeah, kinda.” You cringe inwardly when your voice cracks.

“Gross,” he says, jumping up and leaving you to struggle with your laces. You sigh and slump down. Bastard.

On Saturday, however, and every day you see him after that, he has his hair parted down the middle. He doesn’t mention it again, and neither do you, but you do feel a small sense of victory every time he runs a careful hand through his silvery locks, setting them in place after lapping the rink.

--

A couple weeks later, you’ve just gotten off your morning shift, a little bruised and battered (both physically and emotionally). Semi had still been forced to save you from the cruel, slippery ice a couple times, of course, so you’d taken the opportunity to thank him profusely, and you swear you saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he pulled you up once. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Hey,” you say, poking your head into the break room. Semi and a couple of other rink attendants look up from their phones. “Anyone want a coffee? I’m gonna make a run to the nearest Starbucks for a latte.”

“No,” Semi says automatically, face blank, and you roll your eyes internally. Of course he’d decline. As your other co-workers rattle off their orders (one small caramel mocha, one earl grey tea), you resolve to buy him a drink anyways.

If I were an annoyingly attractive asshole, you muse, squinting your eyes at the Starbucks menu ten minutes later, what would I order?

When you return to the rink, breathless and bearing a heavily laden, flimsy cardboard tray, you thrust a steaming paper cup of coffee into Semi’s hand. He stares at you, face painted with something resembling surprise.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” he says, taking the lid off to skeptically peer inside. He glances up at you.“Is this a blonde roast?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. It’s all you can do to keep the smug grin off your face as Semi inhales the mellow, milky bitterness, letting the steam curl onto his face in the cold ice rink air.

“How did you kno--”

“I could just tell,” you hum, plopping down on the couch as you take a long drink of your own latte. The vanilla syrup generously pumped inside is almost as sweetly gratifying as the bewildered expression on Semi’s face. He just shakes his head, still staring at the cup in his hand.

“Well, how much was it? I’m paying you back.”

“It’s on me,” you say casually, smiling serenely at the way his mouth opens and closes like a shocked goldfish. “Don’t worry about it.”

Semi doesn’t respond as he sets the coffee down on the table, but later you see him sipping on it while he plays some little puzzle game on his phone. Mission accomplished.

--

You’re the last one to leave the rink that day, so you lock up and double check each door before skipping into the coat room to grab your bag. The fluorescent lights flicker sporadically, casting an artificial lightning over the benches. As you reach for the bag, squinting, you catch a little yellow post-it sticking out from its smallest pocket.

Thanks, it reads, messy script scrawled in blue ink. Folded beneath it is a slightly wrinkled five dollar bill.

Despite yourself, a small smile spreads across your face. The thawing has begun.

--

It’s an uphill journey, of course, but with each victorious battle you inch a little closer to winning the war. Semi isn’t invincible, and the cracks in his icy facade are beginning to show.

He’s a little more patient, a little more understanding. His small gestures betray his hand as he shows you how to angle your skates to stop on the ice, as he gives you a pack of tissues when you have a runny nose. He still manages to sneak in an eye roll or snide side comment, of course-- “Seriously, you can’t even brake? You’re hopeless,” or “You shouldn’t have come into work today if you’re sick. You’ll pass all your germs to me.” But still, it’s baby steps, you remind yourself, clutching onto his arm as you come to a grinding halt on the ice, snatching the tissues from his hand with a pained smile and a forced “Thanks, Semi.”

One day, you have to take a shift immediately after leaving a family friend’s wedding. It had been a lovely ceremony (with really, really good chocolate cake), but you hadn’t had time to change into work clothes, so you find yourself rushing through the doors still wearing a cocktail dress and heels, tugging your backpack onto your shoulder and praying your manager doesn’t notice you’re a few minutes late.

Semi is at the counter cleaning a pair of skates, meticulously wiping the blades dry. His phone rests beside him, some sort of pulsing electropop trickling softly from its speakers. He’s nodding his head slightly, keeping pace with the rhythm, and his face is calm, devoid of the irritation you’ve grown so familiar with.

You clear your throat. “Uh, hey.”

Semi looks up, and for a moment, time stops. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully in his throat as his gaze shakily makes its way down from the tops of your bare shoulders, to your exposed neckline, to the skirt swishing just above your knees. The dress is a soft pink chiffon, more delicate and feminine than anything you’d ever worn into work.

There’s a sudden heat, a jolt in the pit of your stomach as he meets your eyes again, and you swear he feels it too. It seems as though the temperature in the rink has instantaneously risen twenty degrees-- you think you might start sweating.

“You look…” Semi breathes, but then he stops himself, choking down whatever his next words might’ve been. He furrows his brows and tears his stare away, looking back down at the forgotten skates.

There’s a brief beat of silence, dappled with only the occasional child’s shriek of joy from on the ice.

“You’d better get changed,” he says finally, pointedly looking anywhere but you.

“Okay,” you say, unable to come up with anything more sophisticated. Your mind is empty of anything but the memory of those cold grey eyes growing suddenly hot, gazing into yours with a warmth of indescribable magnitude. As you slowly walk into the womens’ lockers, something dawns on you. There might be a different way to melt the ice prince.

--

Work is different, after that. Your days are no longer characterized by torment, by rude jabs and scowls from Semi that poke at you right where you’re sore. Instead, they’re not-so-subtly woven with lingering glances, with “accidental” touches at just the right moment to send an unwanted shudder to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

Once, when you’re working the counter, fitting customers and renting out skates, Semi skids off the ice with a spray of snow and clinks his way over to you, blades meeting the tile floor metallically.

“I’m gonna change these out for a different pair,” he tells you, and you nod, acutely aware of his close proximity. As he slips behind you, he touches your lower back lightly, just enough so you know he’s there. A breath catches in your throat when his fingers linger just a little longer than necessary, leaving their imprints burning on your skin, even through the thick fabric of your sweater.

He doesn’t look at you when he comes back out, but the back of his neck is flushed pink. You catch a whiff of his cologne-- it’s woody and spicy, comforting like a distant childhood memory. You fight the sudden impulse to launch yourself into his arms and bury your face in his hair, inhaling that holiday-esque scent.

No, no, no, you scold yourself as you watch him slide back onto the ice. Not Semi Eita. Anyone but Semi Eita.

You’d set out to make peace with him, to make work life a little more bearable for the both of you. You hadn’t expected yourself to start looking forward to seeing him each day, to have your chest constrict, the air crushed from your lungs like a soda can underfoot every time he looked your way. All you’d wanted to do was melt his icy exterior-- not let yourself get scalded by his heat.

A week later, when you enter the rink, there’s an impossibly tall redhead leering over Semi, who’s idly filling in a timetable on the front counter. He’s chattering away in a lilting, sing-songy tone while Semi pays him exactly zero attention.

“--but the last episode was really of pristine quality, you know? None of that filler crap, just great writing, excellent animation, and-- oooooh.” When ginger giant notices you, a joker-like grin stretches across his face. “And who’s this?”

“I--”

“She’s nobody,” Semi cuts in, slamming the timetable shut and jumping over the counter. He glares up at his friend, looking a bit like a disgruntled house cat attempting to bully a tiger. “I think it’s about time for you to get going.”

The friend ignores Semi’s attempt at intimidation, instead turning his attention to you. He takes your hand in a way that makes it unclear whether or not he’s about to shake it or kiss it. You stifle a giggle. “Well, hello, ‘Nobody.’ Pretty name. My name’s Tendou Satori, but you can call me--”

Semi cuts him off with a sharp jab to the ribs and Tendou doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach overdramatically. “Not her.”

“Ouch, Semi-Semi,” Tendou gasps, though a few stray giggles escape with his theatrics. He glances at Semi, then to you, then back to him, apparently having some sort of silent epiphany. His face lights up as gleefully as a kid’s on Christmas morning. “Wait… is this the girl you’re always ta--”

Semi jabs him again, harder this time, and Tendou yelps, stumbling backwards. You cringe as he knocks over a stack of ice walkers— as entertaining as this squabble is, you’ll be the one to clean up the mess. Then Semi stalks over and drags him back by the wrist with the rough swagger of a sheriff arresting the town’s most wanted. He glowers at Tendou, face dark as a thunderstorm. “Tendou, I swear to God, if you so much say another word I will strangle you with my bare hands.”

“Never knew you were so kinky, Semi-Semi!” Tendou preemptively dodges any possible counterattack and turns to you, punctuating his next phrase with a wink: “Have fun with that.”

Later, once Semi has successfully ushered Tendou out the door, you turn to him, eyebrow raised. “What did he mean by ‘have fun with that,’ Eita?”

“Nothing,” Semi says, though his guarded tone leads you to suspect otherwise. He offers you a piece of gum before taking one himself and slipping the sleeve back into his bag. “He’s just like that. Also, since when have we been on a first name basis?”

You blush. You hadn’t even realized you’d called him by his first name. Then you smile a little, popping the gum into your mouth and folding the wrapper into a neat little square. “If you’d prefer, I could call you Semi-Semi as well.”

Semi pales, presumably watching as a vision of his life tormented by two Tendous flashes before his eyes. Then he looks back to you and clears his throat. “Eita is fine.”

As you go about your day, robotically hooking skates back on the shelf, wiping down the snack bar tables, stacking chair, and shivering the whole time, what Tendou was about to say rings in your ears: Are you the girl he’s always talking about?

You can’t help but wonder what exactly Semi says about you.

--

It’s a Saturday evening when you approach Semi to ask for a skating lesson.

“Please,” you say, trailing him around the edges of the rink like a lost puppy. He’s picking up stray bits of trash from beneath the benches— sticky pieces of candy wrappers and cigarette butts left behind by unconscientious skaters. “I just want to stop falling so often-- it’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah, it is embarrassing,” Semi says, suddenly standing upright and turning to face you. He leans close, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a sly half smile. “Sucks to suck.”

“Eita,” you say again, reaching out to tug the edge of his sleeve. He glances at your fingers tightly clutching the thick wool of his sweater and then back up to you. You put on your best pleading pout. “Come on, just for tonight? Just like an hour on the ice, tops.”

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. He glances at his watch and sighs. “I have to get home by nine… I guess we can stay for an hour. But only an hour.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Thanks, Semi-Semi,” you say with a grin, and he scowls.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Too bad.”

--

Semi is a surprisingly good teacher. He pokes fun at you, of course, mocking the way you cling to him when he tries to teach you to skate in a circle, or the way you clumsily flail your arms to keep your balance, but he’s patient. He’s gentle when he corrects your form, when he offers you a hand with which to pull yourself up.

It’s only the two of you now, twenty minutes after closing time. All the lights in the rink are off but the large one directly overhead, a spotlight that illuminates the pale, glassy expanse of the ice. The scrape of your blades over the ice echoes throughout the rink as Semi holds your waist lightly, trying to guide you backwards.

“I don’t understand,” you complain, shuffling backwards and trying your hardest to avoid stepping on Semi’s skates. “If I need to go the other direction, I can just turn around, can’t I?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tightening his grip on your waist as you wobble slightly. “Saves time. Just keep your toe pointed inwards and move your skates in curves. It’s not that hard.”

“It’s not that hard,” you say, imitating him in a squeaky, high pitched tone.

You hear him snort behind you. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“That’s exactly what you sound like,” you say, looking down at your feet. Toes in. Skates move in curves. “Hey, wait, am I doing it right?”

You glide backwards, slowly, hesitantly. Semi moves with you, hands still hovering at your sides just in case. “Almost. Bend your knees a little, that’ll make it easier to balance.”

“Oh, okay. I-- shit!”

In an entirely ungraceful lurching movement, you lose your balance, grabbing Semi’s wrist in a futile attempt to remain upright. The next moment unfolds in slow motion as you fall backwards, pulling a horrified, wide-eyed Semi on top of you as your back hits the ice, his entire body sprawled over your smaller frame.

You lay in stunned silence for a second, feeling your spine throb and the cold of the ice already beginning to seep through your clothes. Semi’s face is inches from yours-- his breath smells like the spearmint gum he’s always chewing, and, for the first time, you notice subtle green flecks in his grey eyes.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper, staring at him. “I didn’t mean to.”

He doesn’t shift himself off of you, just stares back at you with furrowed brows. Almost imperceptibly, his gaze flicks down to your lips and back up again. Your breath catches in your throat-- but then a wide, bright grin breaks across his face, and it’s like the sun, brilliantly slicing through a gloomy mass of storm clouds with its sharp golden rays.

“You-- you’re-- you’re such a shit skater,” he chokes out between guffaws. You can feel his chest heaving with each laugh, and an angry flush crawls over your cheeks.

“It wasn’t my fault!” you protest, attempting to shove him off of you. He doesn’t budge. “You weren’t giving me enough space to move!”

“You should’ve seen your face,” he says, dramatically wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “God, it was so funny.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as good at skating as you are, Mr. I Do Everything Perfectly The First Time,” you scoff, again trying to push him off. Semi cocks an eyebrow and smirks, settling his forearms on either side of your head. Your heart beats erratically at his nearness. “And can you please move? You’re crushing my lungs.”

“Nope.”

You scowl. The repressed irritation from weeks and weeks of trying to get on his good side strains at the boundaries of your self control. “Get off, Semi.”

“Make me.” His eyes gleam with silent laughter as you struggle for a moment, unable to do anything more than wiggle beneath him.

You huff, resting your head back down on the ice in defeat. “You’re fucking heavy, Eita. What did you do before this, eat a buffet out of business?”

Semi chuckles, and it’s a low, raspy sound that vibrates in your chest. He leans in close, angling his face slightly. His lips hover just above yours, and you can feel his breath fan over your mouth with his next words: “You’re so damn annoying.”

There’s a beat of silence. A heavy, stifling tension hangs in the air, a live wire with crackling electricity dancing across its taut line. You stare at him, unblinking. Daring him to do something.

And then he’s kissing you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other slipping under your shoulders to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you hungrily, recklessly, like he’s been fasting and your lips are the first food he’s seen for months. You grip the back of his sweater as you kiss him back, fingers clutching at the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. He tastes like mint and something sweet; it’s messy, there’s tongue and teeth, and your jeans are wet from the ice— but at that moment, you think you’ve never been kissed better. A warmth spreads from his lips to yours, making its way down your throat into deep within your chest, where it burns your lungs and throbs almost painfully.

Though Semi Eita may be cold, his kisses are anything but.

When you break away he’s in quite the state, breathless with a flushed face and disheveled hair. You must look much the same, you think as you inhale deeply, blinking away the stars behind your eyes.

He sits up, resting on your hips. “Well, then.”

“Well, then,” you echo, propping yourself up on your forearms.

“You’re a shit kisser, too.” Semi grins when you gasp and punch him in the arm. You open your mouth to fire back, but before you can get a word out he leans down quick and kisses you again, soft and light. “It’s okay. We can practice.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“How generous of you.” You try to sound sarcastic but the words fall flat under Semi’s gaze. He smiles again and clambers onto his feet, offering you a hand.

“You wanna get dinner or something?”

--

You hold his hand on the walk out to his car, too, fingers tightly interlocked. He hums something under his breath, squeezing your palm every so often.

It’s freezing outside. As Semi fumbles with his keys, you rub your arms, trying in vain to brush away the stubborn goosebumps.

When you climb into the passenger seat, Semi lets you choose the radio station and, before he pulls out of the lot, he silently taps his cheek for a kiss. You roll your eyes but nonetheless lean over to give him a quick peck.

“Thanks,” he says, putting an arm over the back of your seat to pull out of the space. A slow acoustic song comes on, reminiscent of thick woolen blankets and cheerfully flickering flames.

The cold war is over, and you’re not quite sure who melted who.

“Mhm,” you hum. Semi offers you his upturned palm without taking his eyes of the road, so you slip your hand into his, enjoying the way his fingers envelop yours. There’s a light winter rain outside, washing away any remnants of frost on windowpanes and waterpipes.

But, frankly, you don’t really care.

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the fourth week of fics from the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Every weekend, we’re compiling all of the fics from that week into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

Pretty and Pink

A fic by LarryInPanties on AO3 | @larryinpantiess on Tumblr | babielouu on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis points a finger at the man’s pec, “I’ll have you know Harry, anyone would be lucky to have me as a hitchhiker buddy. I’m nice, I don’t take up too much space, and I’m pretty.”

He’s not lying.

“Let me get this straight,” Harry gives Louis a look when he lets out a tiny laugh. “Ya’ want to take a ride with me but you don’t even know where ya’ wanna go yet?”

-

Harry never lets anyone come on the road with him.

Then, a cute hitchhiker, Louis comes around.

Cold As Ice And Everything Nice

A fic by harriblou on AO3 | @harriblou on Tumblr | harriblou on Twitter

40k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A young boy about Harry’s age was zoomed into the camera, blushing a bright red and breathing heavily and as he bowed. The crowd was cheering for him loudly and every movement he made was bashful and flustered. He had on a very nice skate dress that was purple. His name, hometown, skate scores, and all sorts of information was in a banner on the bottom half of the screen. He was really young, especially compared to all the other competitors, which was the second thing he noticed.

The first was that the boy was easily the prettiest in the entire world, the prettiest boy Harry’s ever seen. He felt his asthma squeeze his throat and his heart beat faster and his hands get a little more clammy.

or in which Louis is a professional ice-skater and he meets Harry, who offers to clean the ice for him

You'll wait for me only.

A fic by signofthetmies on AO3 | @tired-eyes-lou on Tumblr

9k | Teen & Up | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”

_______________________

Prompt 15: Omega Louis is a lawyer that worked on omega rights cases. Alpha Harry is a corporate lawyer. Louis and Harry used to be childhood archenemies, until Louis moved to another school and they never saw each other again. Now, they’re both adults that happen to work in the same place. They behave like children and still share a mutual dislike. Both travel to work together for a case. One night they both bond accidentally. Slowly but surely, they fall in love. Enemies to lovers!

through the wheatfields and the coastlines

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

53k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.

“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”

Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart

A fic by louloubaby92 on AO3 | @louloubabys1992 on Tumblr

18k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with.

Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada.

Yeah...

This Glass House

A fic by BabyPowderLou on AO3 | @compactblue on Tumblr | princessbluelou on Twitter

42k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.

singing your praises

A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

made for lovin' you

A fic by cuddlerlouis on AO3 | @cuddlerlouis on Tumblr | burntromances on Twitter

52k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right.

“For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure.

“Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something.

“I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.”

“Noted.”

So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat.

Splendid.

-

Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

–

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Week #1 Fic Roundup

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[boiolay]

Paper Scribbles | Mark Lee

summary: the one mail that made him wish he did things differently | childhood bestfriends!au + idol!Mark

genre: fluff; angst 

warnings: swearing 

word count: 6K

"Mark! You've got mail." 

It was already past midnight when they arrived at the dorm. After working the whole day on the choreography for the comeback, the only thing the boys wanted was to go to bed and sleep for as long as they could. Mark especially. He had been drained out of energy for being involved in so many activities, differents unities, choreographies, composing… He felt like his days had less hours than his members’ so everything else than work, at that moment could wait. 

"Just leave it over the table. I'll take a look tomorrow." He mumbled rubbing his eyes as walked to his bedroom.

"I think you should take a look. It's from Canada." 

He stopped as soon as he heard his home country. It wasn't unusual for him to receive mail from his parents, but they would always tell him they were sending something. He frowned trying to remember if his mother had said something and was almost sure she didn't, but he still turned around walking back to Taeyong letting his curiosity take over him.

"Thanks, hyung." 

"Don't take too long, Markie." 

Mark nodded taking the brown envelope from his hands before the older walked away. Plopping down on the couch, he twirled it around searching for the sender's address. He didn't have a clue where that was, it was definitely from Canada, but the place written on the paper didn't ring any bells from who it could be. 

Until he found your name. 

He widened his eyes and held his breath as he read the name printed on the paper a few more times checking if he wasn't just imagining. It had been years since he last heard of you. And seeing your name written by a handwriting that wasn't his was making his heart do things that he didn’t know it could do again. 

During all those years he hasn't heard of you. But you were in every little thing that surrounded him. You were on his reflection in the mirror every time he saw the little scar under his chin from when the two of you were trying to learn how to skate. You were in the black socks that he wore because you always told him the white ones were lame. You were in the stars in the sky that you used to stare as you laid on the grass from his backyard on a weekday when you were supposed to be studying. And especially, you were in the lyrics of every song he wrote. 

Seeing it, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder back to the days when you were his partner in crime. When everyone in the neighborhood knew that when one of you were seen alone you were planning something. When his parents knew that if he wasn't on his bedroom at a friday night, he would be at yours. When he thought you were gonna be forever. 

It was probably a summer morning when you met. It has been so long that neither of you remembered, and it didn't actually matter. The two of you only knew that you meet in a playground, you weren't even three yet, Mark was feeling too shy to join the other kids on the sand box, so you walked up to him and offered your favorite cookie, asking him to be your friend. Your mother once told him you wouldn't share it with anyone but him. Well, he took a bite from it and threw it on the floor. It made you cry, but as soon as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks, he felt bad and hugged you. That was when your friendship started, and little did you know that you would never leave each other's side. At least until you were fifteen. 

You were together in every memory he had from his childhood. When you started preschool, your teachers instantly fell in love with the two of you. On your first day, you came hand in hand. He had a red cap that was almost big enough to cover his eyes and you had your pigtails bouncing as you made your way to the class. You had the biggest grins on your lips, you were the only kids in the whole class that didn’t throw a tantrum to leave their parents, after all, you had each other. There was no way your teachers wouldn't fall in love at the sight of you comforting the other children. They only found out that the duo meant trouble when, a week later, in art class, you would replace your canvas with each other's faces. At the time that idea of having pink all over your face sounded just right. It would match your dress! 

Another episode that warned what was yet to come was when you were caught trying to sneak your pet rabbit into the school trip. Mark helped you to put it on his bag so you could bring it to meet it's cousins at the zoo. Your plan failed when Mark opened his backpack to put his lunch on it on your way to the school and the rabbit jumped out. Your moms had to hold back their laughters as they tried to scold both of you. 

You wouldn’t stay away from each other even when you were grounded. Whenever your parents tried to punish you for misbehavior or something, you always found a way to be with each other. Once he was grounded because he was caught eating candy in the middle of the night, and that made his parents not let him leave the house in the following day. In the next morning, they woke up to Mark laying on his belly on the entrance hall happily kicking his legs with the door wide open. As his dad walked further to investigate what was going on, he saw you on the porch in the same position as the two of you drew and talked. Mr. Lee just shook his head grinning before inviting you to breakfast. Mark didn't disobey his parents, after all he didn't leave his house.

Mark was really found of all those memories, even though some were told by his parents and others he remembered vaguely, he treasured every moment he had with you.  As he grew up, his memories became gradually more defined so as he could remember the details of them, they also became more meaningful to him.

He was able to remember, for example, you giving him a bouquet of red flowers and wearing a dress of the same colour the night he played the flute on his band for the first time, he had felt so happy to have you clapping excitedly at his performance. Or even when you spent the whole night helping him finish his biology project that was due the next morning even though you had an english test the same day. Of course he didn’t know that, otherwise he would have never asked for your help, but when a friend in common told him that, he remembered feeling guilty and selfish. So he bought your favorite ice cream with his lunch money and stood in front of your class waiting for you to leave, ready to comfort and apologize to you. For his surprise, you came out smiling. 

“Didn’t you fail?” You laughed throwing your head back before reaching to take the cup out of his hands and linking your arm with his. 

“You think too low of me, Mark Lee.” He sighed relieved smiling while you made your way back home chatting. Little did he know that you, in fact, failed, but seeing him waiting for you made it feel like nothing. 

One memory that repeated itself every year, but became more clear in his mind as he grew up was when the two of you would run between the sprinklers of your front yard in the summer, laughing and purposely getting wet to cope with the hot weather. These were his favorite memories. It was something that first happened when the two of you were still little and your parents were too distracted with the barbecue party to notice you sneaking out. When they did, you were in the middle of the lawn giggling and running away from the water jets with your chubby feet. Mark recaled the same scene a few years later, the two of you just a little older with the same happy smiles on your lips. This time, you were being chased by your siblings and were big enough to know how to use a water gun. The last time it happened, always brought a grin to Mark’s lips, all the details were clear as day. 

He ran after you with the smile he always had whenever you were around, you also ran, but away from him. You screamed for him to leave you alone, but the laugher that would come out of your mouth every time he came close to catch you told him you didn't actually mean any of that. 

“I’m serious, Mark! I don’t want to get wetter than I am!” You shouted at him as you faced each other from opposite sides of the sprinkles, you laughed at him resting your hands on your knees. You two were panting from all the running, but you couldn’t be happier. 

“Too bad you will, loser.” He smirked at you and jumped through the jets to get to you. A surprised yelp left your lips, but you reached to take the hose that was just behind you and splashed it on his face. He coughed surprised when the water hit his eyes and you turned it off as soon as you heard him, your eyes widened and your mouth agape as you watched him recover from your sudden attack. As Mark rubbed his eyes, you walked closer to him trying to hold back your laughter with the hose still in hands. You touched his back that was turned to you and caressed it softly talking with the sweetest voice, knowing he couldn’t get mad to you when you did that. 

“Oi, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to-” At that moment, he turned around and jumped on top of you making you fall on the ground. You wiggled under him to try to pull him away, but he held your wrist pinning you down so you couldn’t move. He smirked taking the hose from you and splashing all over you, finally getting his revenge. 

“You son of a bitch!” “Yah! Don’t curse my mother!” 

He laughed as stared at you pouting with your red cheeks and your hair all wet spread on the grass. He couldn’t think of a moment when you looked more beautiful. 

“I’m sorry. I forgot it’s not your mother’s fault you are an idiot.” You flashed him a teasing grin that in just a few seconds turned into a genuine smile. You stared at his sparkling eyes and soft smile that always made your heart skip a beat. His hair was all messy and wet and you couldn’t help, but run your fingers through his strands. He closed his eyes enjoying your sweet touch leaning his head closer to you. 

“Yeah, but you still love this idiot.” He whispered and when opened his eyes to stare back at you lovingly, you grinned leaning up to rub your lips against his and whispered before kissing him slowly and tenderly.

“Well, you are not wrong.”

Besides the good memories you shared, you have always been there for each other, in the good and bad moments. Like when he broke his arm and you did all his homework for three weeks, or when your grandmother passed away and he was there to wipe all your tears. But like in every friendship, you did have a lot of fights, mostly petty ones.

Once you tried to cut your own fringe and ended with just a tuft of hair on the top of your forehead, when he saw it he laughed so hard he felt on the floor out of breath. You gave him the cold shoulder for the next two days. That was until, after your soccer practice, you forgot you were supposed to be mad at him and stormed into his bedroom with your cap still on talking happily about the goals you’ve made. He looked at you puzzled as you laid beside him on the bed, you frowned at his confused face, but soon remembered you were not talking to him. And when you were about to stand up to leave, you saw him smirk and point his chin to your head. 

“Nice cap.” You punched him on the arm, but couldn’t hold back a smile. 

“Shut up.”

Another one was when you gave him spoilers of the new Spider-Man movie. He knew it wasn’t your intention, but he so wanted to see for himself that when you told him about the ending scene he ignored you for a whole day. He only accepted your apologies when you said you would go see the movie with him and would pay for the popcorn. In a minute it was all forgotten.

You were fourteen when you confessed. Neither of you knew when the romantic feelings towards the other appeared. They were just there, hidden, until it bloomed like a flower in the spring, always ready to pop up just waiting for the right moment. It didn’t surprised him tho. It had always been you, just the two of you. Maybe it sprang up was when you held him a little tighter than the other times when he came home from a trip with his family. 

It had been over a month since he had gone to the middle of nowhere, you didn’t talk during that time because he had no access to internet. Of course he missed you, you were everyday with him, how wouldn’t he? What he didn’t expected was that when you came running to him, just a few minutes after they parked the car in the garage, his heart would go on loops. He saw you coming his way with the brightest smile on your lips, your yellow flowered summer dress floating around you and your hair fluttering, for some reason he froze on his spot as watched you come. 

Has she always been that beautiful? 

He only came back to his senses when your body hit on his almost knocking him down on the ground. He automatically wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly against him not wanting to let you go and hoping you wouldn’t hear the drums inside his chest. When you pulled away, too soon, he stared at you with shining big eyes and you smiled shyly under his gaze. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.”

“You grew taller.” It was only then that he noticed he had to look down to talk to you now. He just nodded, lost of words, as you kept looking at the changes on the other. You stayed like that, secretly admiring each other’s features until his brother cleared his throat beside you.

“Are the lovebirds gonna help or we’ll have to wait until the wedding?” He was used to people teasing you like that, but you would always shrug it off or roll your eyes. However, this time it felt different. He saw you blush and mumble saying that you would help his mother before walking inside the house, he felt his ears burn and widened his eyes at his brother making the older laugh. 

Or maybe it was when he said 'i love you' after you gave him a bowl full of watermelon on one of your movie nights. You would always tell each other that, but that time it had a different meaning. It didn't held the same teasing tone as before. He had said it with so much tenderness and had the softest look on his eyes. It was such a usual moment, the two of you just chilling in the living room, you wearing his hoodie even being summer. You have said it was a bit chilly outside, but later he would find out that you liked to be surrounded by his scent. 

It just felt right to say at that moment. And he did it.

You just smiled extending him the bowl, ready to say it back like everytime you did something to him. But when you looked down at him he saw you freeze for a moment as you stared deeply in each other’s eyes. The same words you would always tell the other felt completely different now. And you could tell which that meaning was by his eyes that shined and overflowed with affection, admiration and love. When you smiled shyly with your cheeks tinted bright red and sat beside him, closer than you would before, he knew you were alright. 

"I love you too, Mark."

And it was just like that. You confessed to each other in the most intimate, yet innocent way it could have happened. And you knew. There was no need for other words. You reached over to lay your hand between the two of you and he gently placed his own on top of yours with a smile on his lips and his heart beating wild. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes and saw the most beautiful smile on your face as he laced your fingers together.

Not long after that you shared your first kiss. You guys were too shy and flushed to do it before, but just like the rest of your relationship, it just happened. 

He was walking you home after your first official date, or, after going for some ice cream. It was like before, but now he could hold your hand whenever he felt like. When you got to your front door, he reluctantly let go of your hand and pressed his lips together standing in front of you. He shifted his weight from one side to the other and saw you playing with your feet as looked everywhere but him. You both felt what was about to happen. Mark was nervous and he knew you also were, after all, neither of you had any experience in anything that was happening.

He cleared his throat softly and wiggled his body back and forth moving his gaze to you. 

“So… I’ll come tomorrow. And we can go to the pool or try that muffin recipe you found…?” “Cool. That’s cool for me.” 

“Cool.” When you raised your head to look at him, he chuckled softly noticing you had a little bit of ice cream on your chin. How cliché, he thought. 

“You complain that I’m a messy eater, but look at you.” With a warm smile, he stepped forward and held your jaw with one hand while the other gently rubbed the stain out of your skin. Your faces were closer than they have ever been. Mark saw the blush on your cheeks, but didn’t say anything as he felt the blood flood his. He stared at your wide shining eyes and you both couldn’t held back a smile. All the anxiousness from before completely dissipating as you drowned on each other’s eyes, he suddenly felt at peace. Feeling your breath against his skin, he closed his eyes. The only thing he remembered after that was his lips on yours.

It was... weird, but good weird. It was wet, there was too much tongue, teeth meeting more than it should. It wasn't his fault, neither yours, that’s just how everyone’s first kisses are. But yours felt just right. The way he held you tightly, like he was holding the world on his hands. The way he caressed your face tenderly. The way you held his hair, gently pulling him closer to you. The way you smiled against each other’s lips and giggled. The way your heartbeats synchronized into one. 

After you pulled away, eyes still closed, you just stood there with your arms around each other and beaming smiles on your faces. When Mark opened his eyes, he met yours, you have never seen his eyes shining so bright like that. You exchanged your goodbyes and he hugged you one last time pressing a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the street.  He was on cloud nine and so were you. 

Nobody was surprised when they found out you were dating. In fact, almost everyone you knew seemed to have made a bet on when the two of you would get together. Mark realized that when saw his brother giving yours twenty dollars, he had bet that Mark would only grow some balls to ask you out after you started dating someone else and your brother had bet that he would be your first kiss. Said and done. 

Your parents were thrilled when you told the. Although all of them knew you were eventually end up dating, your father was hoping it would take a little more time, but that didn't stop him from inviting Mark over just to ‘hang out’ as he used to say, even when you were busy. He told Mark that he felt like his second son and couldn't’ have wished for someone else to be with his little girl. He really enjoyed spending time with your father too, he felt like he belonged to the family even more. The only one that wasn't very keen of the two of them together was you, he would always laugh when you argued with your dad saying that Mark was your boyfriend, not his. 

Besides that, our relationship was much like any other. You had dates everyday, they wouldn’t always be going to amusement parks or to the cinema, most of them were the two of you sitting down while Mark played his guitar, or doing your homework in silence enjoying each other’s presence. The time you would spend just the two of you immersed in your own world was his favorite type of date.

One that he treasured was when the two of you had just finished your exams in school, he knew how stressed you were so he decided that you had to chill out a bit. He took two of the biggest blankets he could find and as much pillows as he could carry and ran across the street with his hands full. Since he basically lived in your house he didn't bother ringing the bell, he walked to your backyard and settled the things down on the grass and sent you a text that said “ i’m by the pool. bring doritos.” 

He watched as the lights of your bedroom were turned off and smiled to himself as he laid down on top of the pillows. When you came to meet him, you had a side smile on your lips and were already in your pajamas. 

“What is this?” He grinned brightly and reached for your hand, that you gladly held, pulling you down to lay beside him.

“This is me making you stop overthinking your grades.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but followed his lead and snuggled him under the blanket. 

You talked for hours. About the most silly things, your deepest desires and fears, you were each other’s safe place. At one point of the night, he was talking about whatever while staring at the stars, but you had found a much more interesting sight. You were on your side facing Mark and had your head rested on your hand, you couldn't help a smile as you stared at his profile. You couldn’t tell, but Mark saw your eyes roam every feature of his face, his almost defined apple cheeks, his pink pretty lips, his little nose… 

“Are you even listening to me?” He giggled when turned to face you and meet your mesmerized eyes. You shook your head lightly before smirking softly.

“I was not. It’s not my fault you distract me.” He laughed throwing his head back and clapping his hands as he felt a little blush creeping on his cheeks, but he moved to lay on his side to face you. You reached a hand and touch his face caressing every part you had been staring, rubbing his cheek, bopping his nose, what made he giggle more, contouring his lips with your thumb, but when you locked eyes he heard a sight leave your lips.

"I love your eyes, you know..." You blurted out. "I mean, I love all of you, but your eyes... They have a special place in my heart." You chuckled and stopped your hand on his apple cheek caressing it gently. He grinned widely and reached to hold your hand intertwining your fingers. 

"Is that so? Why?" 

"They sparkle. I feel like i can see your soul looking at them. They shine. Just like your soul, Mark. And you have such a beautiful one, baby.”

Those words stuck to him until now and whenever someone complimented his eyes he thought of you.

One thing he was grateful for was how much support you gave him. You were always there for him, supporting him no matter what, hyping him when he was feeling down and doing your best to make him happy. It was even you who he told first about the SM audition that was going to happen. You quickly ran to his house to make sure he had typed his informations correctly in the enrollment paper. He was still uncertain if he should try, he was very insecure of his abilities and just the thought of leaving for the other side of the world made his heart ache, but he just let you think that his hesitations were because of his insecurities. 

“Mark! You are amazing. I've already told you this a thousand times! There's nothing to worry about. You are so talented... They are gonna love you. And if they don’t, first their loss. Second, this is just a try out, it’s just the beginning, love. Your life won’t end because you failed one audition. Okay? Have some faith in yourself!” 

You skipped school to go with him to the audition. His brother offered to drive Mark so you could join since his parents would have asked if yours had allowed you to come, the answer would have been  no. During the whole ride to the city center, Mark had his legs shaking frenectly. You tried to sooth him by holding his hand and caressing the back of it, but he was too nervous, not even your touches could make him calm down. 

Once his brother parked the car he felt his heart stop. Mark was so tense that he didn't remember much of what happened after that. He knew his brother had talked the whole time you were waiting, making jokes to try to make him laugh and you hadn’t let go of his hand even for one second. He was glad you were there to reassure him even if it was just by squeezing his hand. 

At some point he was told by the staff that he had to go alone from there. He sighed deeply and nodded at his brother and you, if he wasn't so terrified the would have laughed, it looked like you were the one auditioning. You let go of his hand and offered him a smile, he turned around to walk inside, but after a few steps he felt your hand on his arm, meeting your gently eyes when he turned back. 

“Hey. Before you get in. I just want to say how proud I am of you. I can't put in words how amazing and talented you are. Just trust in yourself, Mark. You are gonna shine more than the brightest star in the sky. And i'll always stand by your side no matter what happens.” You winked and gave him your brightest smile. “Now go get them.” 

That was all what he needed to regain his confidence. 

The results came a week later. 

When he told you the news you screamed and laughed like never before, hugging him so tight that he had to ask you to loose it a bit. You had told him how happy and proud you were of him and gave him a little lecture about how he should trust himself more, but soon was kissing all over his face again. Before you left to go home, he thought he had seen a different shade on your eyes, but he shrugged it off at that time.

The time he had to say his goodbyes and pack was way too short. He tried to stay as much as he could with you, but he had a ton of things to do before leaving to Korea it made hard for you to have some time alone. He was feeling bad because he felt like he wasn’t giving the attention you deserved, but you reasured him that it was alright, that you understood why that was happening and that you would be with him even if he just had two minutes to talk to you.

On the day before he would go to Korea he took to spend it only with you, he took you to a walk on the park, bought you your favorite ice cream, took you to the little playground where you met and didn't let go of your hand. It didn't even feel like he was leaving, he was so happy to be able to make you laugh and look at your bright eyes that he forgot why he was doing that. 

He only remembered it later that day when he heard you on the sleepover you were having at his house. Neither of you were supposed to sleep, so you could spend more time together, but he closed his eyes and felt asleep. He woke up a few minutes later when heard the bathroom door close followed by your quiet sobbs. He realized how difficult it was for you to let him go. He knew you were happy for him, but he could understand what you were going through. Having your best friend in life that it’s also your boyfriend to move to the other side of the world while you had no choice, but sit back and watch, it breaks anyone's heart. He didn't think he could be so selfless if he was in your shoes. All the times when he thought about becoming an artist he saw you by his side,  but he realized that you always somehow knew that wouldn't be possible, that you couldn’t be part of that. Even so, you were there supporting him, wanting him to pursue his dreams, to be happy, even if that meant that you would have to let him go. 

Just by hearing your shaky breath he could tell you were trying to control your emotions, but every time you would inspire, a loud sobb would come out from your chest. It was too painful hearing you break like that. He barged in the bathroom what made you quickly try to put a smile on your face and hide your sadness, but failed. He just pulled you into his chest and buried his face on your neck letting his own tears flow down his cheeks while you resumed crying, this time on his arms. Once you were calmer, he brought you to the couch where you hugged each other for the whole night while he caressed your hair and whispered on your ear sweet nothings and promises that he didn’t know he could keep. 

You didn't come to the airport with him in the next day. You had told him that you prefered to say your goodbye on your street when you could pretend he was just going on a trip. He had laughed, but felt his heart ache. When the time came, you tried not to look at him, he knew you didn't want him to see you cry again, he knew you wanted to be strong for him, but he held your face to make you stare at him, he wanted to look into your eyes since he didn't know the next time he would be able to do it.

You didn't need to say a lot of words to make him understand everything you wanted to tell. He pulled you to a last tight hug staying like that for a few minutes. Eventually, he had to pull away since his parents were telling him they should go. He held your face between his hands, eyes roaming around your features like he was trying to engrave the sight of you on his brain.He let go of you with a nod once he felt tears start to rush to his eyes. As he was about to enter the car, you held his hand catching his attention. You walked to be in front of him and leaned up to press your lips gently against him. 

“I’m really proud of you. And I love you.” 

And then he left to Korea to chase his dreams, leaving the love of his life behind.

All those memories, those intense moments brought a sad smile to his lips and made tears well up on his eyes. He sighed deeply rubbing his hands on his face and trying to put himself back together after those old feelings that had come intensely over him all at once. Even after so long you had the same effect on Mark as before. 

Yes, of course he dated after you. He fucked around, he was at his peak of popularity, there were girls falling on his feet, he tried to forget you, he tried to find someone with whom he could share his life. But none of them felt right the way you did. He couldn't help comparing them to you and none of them came even close to be as special as you were. Even if his head wanted to let go of you, his heart wouldn't . He couldn't love them the way he loved you. The way he loves you.

Mark stared at the brown envelope on his hands and twirled it one last time before opening with trembling hands. Inside there was another envelope, but this time it was a pretty white paper sealed with a golden wax. He turned around to look at the back and he read his own name written in your elegant handwriting, just like in the notes you would leave around his bedroom or on his notebooks. He smiled fondly and ran his finger over his name feeling warmth spread on his chest. Soon, after letting his thoughts run to you again, he left out a shaking breath before finally breaking the seal and pulling another paper from inside, his heart beating wildly on his chest. 

As soon as his eyes met the first words he froze. His heart sank. Feeling a bitter taste on his mouth he read the golden letters over and over, but couldn't believe. Or didn't want to. He only realized he was crying when some words on the bottom of the paper were becoming blurry. He dropped the papers on his lap and rubbed his eyes trying to get rid of the excess of tears on his eyes. His mind was blank. How could that have happened? How he could have let that happen?

He the papers once again, but this time he noticed something that he didn't have before. 

At the back of the paper, on the top corner written on a red pen that didn’t match the golden letters printed on the paper there was a inscription scrambled on your handwriting. He couldn't help sobbing when he finished reading. It said: 

“My love, i confess, i’m getting married, but the love of my life was and it’s always gonna be you. Yours, ___ .” 

author’s note: so....??? i loved writting this so much, but i cried so hard at the end. I would really really really love to read what you guys thought of it. And if you came until here, thank you so much!!! <3 

[sleepysailorghost]

Arcade wasn't sure what he expected when the Courier asked him to accompany them. They hadn't given a name, only said they were a Courier. It wasn't much to go on, but the Courier had looked up at him with big eyes. And for some reason, it didn't sound all that crazy to venture beyond the fort with them, a natural stanger.

They had listened so reverently when Julie spoke. They had fulfilled any job asked of them by the Followers. Certainly, if they harbored ill will towards the Followers, they would have gotten to their revenge before now.

He had asked for their name, if only to be polite.

"I don't have one. Courier or Six is fine, if you'd like."

"You don't have a name?"

"I guess I probably did once, but I don't remember any more. I just remember the man in the checkered coat- an 18-carat run of bad luck-and then waking up in Doc Mitchell's house. Maybe that man knows who I was. I don't know."

"That doesn't bother you, not having a past?"

"No, not really." The Courier leaned back. "I'm just me. Sure, I can't look back on the road behind me, but I can look forward."

"Interesting. Are you going to look for the man in the checkered coat?"

"I don't know. I guess I could. I'm supposed to, because he stole something from me and shot me in the head."

"Wait, he shot you in the head?"

"Yeah, that's why I don't remember much. It messed with my head too."

"Well, yeah. Getting shot in the head would do that."

"Oh, wait, I do have one hint to who I might have been." The courier starts to undo the many closures of their armor, like a fire's been lit under them. "What do you make of this?"

The Courier drops their armor clumsily on the floor, and then goofily flexes. He doesn't really know what they're refering to, but then he sees the poorly-done tattoo on their upper arm. It's a ring of roses and thorns that raps under their bicep. Despite being very mediocre, it is legible and in color.

"Huh." Tattoos aren't really unique, but it is something. "Maybe your name is Rose?"

"Maybe. It doesn't sound right."

"Maybe you just need to try it out for a while, wear it in." He's trying to help, but the Courier is a near stranger to him. "Or, if you'd like, I could arrange for you to see Dr. Usa-"

"No thanks. Don't want to take up her time." The refusal was off faster than a bullet from a sixgun. "If you're ready to go, so am I."

"Sure." He agreed. It wasn't really healthy of the Courier to act out against the idea of visiting the clinic, but it wasn't something he could force them into. At least, not as a near stranger.

This turned out to be one of the few times the Courier's former-NCR sniper friend wasn't travelling with them. He probably wouldn't have decided to go with the Courier if he had known they had company. Still, it isn't all that bad, even if he feels a little crowded with the Courier, their robot pet ED-E (he hates that thing), the King's robot-dog, the sniper, and the Remnant medical researcher. One more person, and the Courier will have a small army.

Not that the Courier normally has all of them traveling together at once. It's too noticeable, draws too much attention. It might even sound like a joke: an Enclave eyebot, a police cyber dog, an amnesiac Courier, a grouchy NCR sniper, and a medical researcher walk in to a bar...

It makes the Courier happy to travel with him, so he does it on occasion. Those occassions become a lot more frequent after they return from a place they call the "Big Empty".

That had been months ago. Now, he felt like he knew the Courier. Not that he wasn't surprised by the Courier-he certainly was. But he was familiar with the Courier now.

It was a dangerous sort of thing, that familiarity. He was even starting to think that perhaps it would be a good idea to let them in on his own origins.

And he knew how the Courier felt about him.

Leaning against his side while they sat at a fire, the Courier's hands stripping a defeated foe's weapon, they had muttered something.

"Sorry, say again?" Arcade responded. Most of the time, it was just complaints about bent springs or whatever, more to themselves than to him.

The Courier's hands stopped, laying the weapon on the ground.

"You're my brother, Arcade." The Courier says, and then continues before Arcade could interrupt. "Not by blood. Or hell, maybe you are. It's not like I'd remember. Course you are a heck of a lot taller than I am...maybe the tall gene skipped me."

Arcade doesn't say anything, attempting to process what the Courier was trying to tell him.

"No, we're not related by blood." He agrees, although he has no real way to confirm it without knowing the Courier's identity.

"I know." The Courier put their hand up to their chest. "I just...well, I know you're my brother. I, uhh, care about you."

Arcade didn't know what to say about that. It really did feel like it had come out of nowhere to him. A few weeks later, the Courier had gone running off to a place that might have been their home.

Antietam is walking by his side now, but their gaze is drawn over to an old poster. The pre-war store was filled with advertisements for many different products, from Sugar-Bombs to the newest products from Rob-Co.

Shelves, long ransacked and destroyed, have created something of a maze. The laminate tiling on the floor has become loose after centuries of neglect. Decorations littering the area would mark this location as a raider base at some point.

His friend doesn't seem to notice any of that, moving closer to a central display that might have been made of stacked shoeboxes once. Now, the boxes lay in a crumpled heap.

"Antietam, wait-" He says, and the courier stops.

"Yeah? Do you need something?"

"You need to be more careful! This could be a trap."

"I don't think it is. I'm pretty good at finding traps and I don't see any tripwires or bear traps. I've stepped in enough of those."

"Of course you wouldn't see them! It's a mess in here."

"I'm not going far. I just wanna see if I can find some of those."The Courier pointed at an advertisement. It was of a girl with little wheels on her shoes, looking over her shoulder as she spun away. Under the picture, it read "Roll with the punches with Roller-Ray skates!".

"Do you..need those?"

"Well, no. I just think they would be cool. Just rollin around town."

"I'll go with them." Boone added, if only so he could keep an eye on them.

"Yeah, plus ED-E's sensors haven't picked up on anything. I can handle myself while looking for skates, Arcade."

On that note, the Courier and Boone go to pick through the rubble. When they returned, Antietam raised their arm triumphantly.

"We found them! A little dinged up, but I can fix that. C'mon, lets go outside to try them!" With the hand not holding their skates, Antietam grabbed at Arcade's sleeve.

"Okay, okay." He said, because Antietam's enthusiasm for things was infectious sometimes. They exited the store, entering that had once been a parking lot. Rusted-through cars sat abandoned and the sun hung low in the sky.

Antietam dropped to the floor, strapping on their skates. They were metal and fit awkwardly with their combat boots and spurs. Awkwardly, like a baby radstag on ice, the Courier stood up.

"Okay,so I just." The Courier lifted one leg as if to take a step. Their balance was offset by the movement. Next to him, Arcade saw Boone move to catch the Courier if they fell, but the Courier braced themselves on a car instead.

They took a few more awkward steps.

"Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of this." Their movements were jerky, but in time, perhaps they'd be alright at it.

Then they hit a skid in the destroyed asphalt and took a spill. Their left side collided hard with a rusted shell.

"Ouch." they groaned, and then collapsed onto the parking lot. "I'm just gonna rest here for a second."

Arcade laughed a little, and then helpfully whined about the sun.

"Alright, alright. Okay, getting up." The Courier pushed up from the asphalt with both hands, rising from their crumpled mass.

"Nothing broken?" Arcade asked, seeing Antietam avoid putting too much weight on their left side.

"No, probably just bruised." They replied, but that was what Arcade had expected. They were still extremely hesitant to be medically examined, even if it meant concealing and ignoring injuries. It stung Arcade-someone who the Courier allegedly loved like a brother-to be held at arms' length. That being said, he couldn't be upset with them either. The Courier had suffered greatly and been stripped of agency by doctors. It was a mark of pride that Antietam trusted him.

Actually, he could still be angry with them for concealing injuries.

The sun was beating down as steadily as it always did in the Mojave. A bead of sweat formed on Arcade's neck.

"Oh shoot." The Courier murmured, looking over their hands. They wore fingerless gloves, and a pip-boy on one arm. Arcade examined the injury. It would be a lot of work if the Courier came down with tetnus. "It's just a scrape, Arcade."

"It's not just a scrape. It's dirty and could get infected."

"Hottest part of the days coming up. We should wait it out in the store." Boone added, helpfully.

"C'mon, listen to your big brother, ok?" Arcade tried with a smile. The Courier looked up at him with their wide brown eyes.

Arcade was not above emotional manipulation.

Half a year ago, if someone told him that he was going to play big brother to a Courier who knew nothing about their past and hated doctors, he'd have likely sent them to see Dr. Usanagi.

The Courier ran their gloved hand through their short white hair. It fluffed up their bangs (despite the pin staying in place) and revealed the twin scars on their forehead and the surgical scar that ran around their skull.

"Okay." The Courier responded, sticking their wrist out to him for treatment.

"Oh, that's a nasty cut." he said, "Let's head inside so we can get this treated.:

In the end, even if the Courier was a hassle sometimes, he was glad to be their brother. He was turning into such a sap.