#my ultimate goal is to have someone find him in-game and recognize him as MY character 😙😙😙

[sparxyv]

I've made an interesting discovery.. 👁️👁️

I was writing down a summary of Mousey's personality for his student profile, so I turned on HL, found Mousey, then listened to his voice lines so I could get a better grasp on his character.

I can't believe I didn't realize this sooner, but Mousey and Leander share the same VA??!? 😀

Which is SO funny because I noticed Mousey's personality accidentally ended up being eerily similar to Leander's (in my silly lil brain) and now I guess I know why?? Maybe I just subconsciously made that connection??

So I looked up Leander's VA's credits in HL just to double-check, and -

An unnamed student! It has to be Mousey 😼

Comparison 🤞

In my universe, Leander and Mousey only become friends sometime in fourth year, despite being cousins and seeing each other during holidays and family get togethers.

Up to the fourth year, Mousey's closest/only friends were the Sallow twins and Ominis. After Sebastian and him got in a huge (immature) fight and ended their friendship at the beginning of that year, Mousey didn't get to talk to Anne and Ominis as much.

And after that Mousey began to despise Sebastian, becoming friends with Sebastian's biggest rival, Leander Prewett, just out of spite.. which pissed Sebastian off even further of course.

Overall after that whole fight Mousey's social life changed and he became much more 'popular' - which was a very conscious effort, since prior to that he was quite quiet - hence him being friends with even the background students!

[kagscore]

𝜗𝜚 playing games with the boys

feat. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin note. this is self indulgent because i wanna play league with nagi i fear ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i hope you enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing rocket league with 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 looks like . . .

the two of you sitting in his bedroom, you curled up in his lap as you hold the controller. he holds your hands with his, moving the controller and pressing the buttons for you so you can get a grasp of the movements you need to know. slowly but surely, he lets you take full control and quietly cheers for you as you score goals and block them in his favorite game—car soccer. he's almost brimming with excitement at the idea of teaching you all sorts of tricks—flip resets, [insert other terminology]—anything so that eventually the two of you can play duos together and dominate the game. shows you how to decorate your car, the types of cars you can get and laughing when you ask if you could just drive a vw beetle instead. gets himself a second remote to play on his xbox when he thinks you’re finally starting to get the game and trying to cheer you up when you lose your first game duo’d together.

“you sure you wanna keep playing? i know it isn’t the easiest thing in the world…” “i think it’s so cute you wanna get good at this game baby, of course we can play when you come over again.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing league of legends with 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 looks like . . .

nagi absolutely tossing you in headfirst into aram, knowing that you won’t get kills or assists and will die a lot but absolutely sweating his balls off so that he can still carry you to a win. you ask a lot of questions about who you’re playing, who you’re playing against, your abilities and ultimates and just generally what to do and him answering every single question you ask with patience and a soft explanation. sometimes you do questionable things in game, but he just laughs and says it’s okay. congratulates when you finally figure out who you want to main, celebrates when you get your first kill, and even buys you that skin you want as a gift for taking the time to play a game with him and spend time with him. always rerolls his character in aram, trying to find someone you like and getting a bit teary eyed when you recognize his favorite character to play once.

“it’s your favorite character, babe, swap me for them.” “i know you’re new, but please stop dying to tower. i’ll even take us out for dinner, i’m begging.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing valorant with 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍 looks like . . .

rin trying his hardest every game you play together to be the top frag to impress you subtly, and him avenging you every time you die because how could he let his person die without killing the person that killed you? drops you his gun skins and even switches them when you guys wait in queue to skins you prefer—if he doesn’t have the skin you like, he always gives it to you when he finds and kills the person with it in a game. goes into deathmatches to one v. one you to try and help you learn the mechanics of the game and the shooting. if anyone is rude to you in a game, he’s immediately cursing and hexing their family and generational lineage in his head/in chat. he doesn’t like talking in game, but will if it means defending you against everyone else being mean because you’re bottom fragging. buys you your first skin after you get your first kill and periodically logging into your account to buy you more and surprise you sometimes.

“you should try a duelist if you want to get more kills, my love.” “now we just need to get you an ace, and we can do something special.”

[pyropsychiccollector]

A post from a buddy of mine recently got me inspired to do this, myself... But surprisingly not for Makoto. Don't get me wrong, Makoto's a great guy... But I feel like I haven't talked a lot about some of my other ships, they're just kind of... there.

I'm gonna take it easy, though. Don't wanna burn myself out writing these. However, for all you rareshippers out there, I felt it's long overdue to write an "analysis" for at least some of your diamonds in the rough. Tonight, I figured... why not start with Hajime? Let's dust off one of his ships and take a look at it. I'll leave Hinanami alone for now, 'cause that's a pretty well-covered one.

... So let's touch on the other girl that had a presence at the beginning of Hajime's journey in Danganronpa. Let's examine...

Hinazuryu (or Hinatsumi, to distinguish from the... yaoi variant)

Natsumi's often one of those girls that are brushed off by the fans for... reasons. Mainly the fact she died pre-game in Goodbye Despair, and was only there for an episode in Despair Arc. But aside from the brevity of her existence, how canon just speed-runs through the details involving her, in the short time we meet her in the anime, Natsumi is... uppity. Prickly. Whatever word you want to use. Natsumi's not a "people" person, she's picky about who she interacts with. She came to Hope's Peak for one reason, and one reason only: Because her brother's there. And she's a girl seemingly willing to do anything to achieve her goals. Because she's a daughter of the Head of the most notorious yakuza clan in the modern era of Japan, the Kuzuryu's.

Natsumi's not like most people in the Reserve Course. ... I mean, you kinda get that from the way she and Hajime aren't "blue people" from their perspective, but it goes a bit farther down the rabbit hole than aesthetics. People usually join the Reserve Course to get that "prestige" of, "Look at me! I attended the best school in the world, and I wasn't an Ultimate!" Even Hajime gravitated to the Reserve Course because he admired Hope's Peak so much, and hoped that by studying here he'd find the resolve to... be someone. To take pride in himself.

Natsumi already has that pride going for her. For better or for worse, she thinks her criminal family is cool. Powerful. They're so well known that even the general public knows they're crooks, yet the police can't or won't touch them - probably because lack of evidence, bribery, and/or blackmail. Naturally, this means Natsumi's not an angel, she was "born" to be bad, and she hasn't had a reason for reflecting on this because she's still a teenager, a child.

... But Natsumi's not completely happy. Sure, she knows who she is. Knows where she fits in life. But like anyone else, she yearns for something, for someone - in this case, it's her brother. It's not enough to be attending the same school. Because Hope's Peak is the best in the world, and her brother was accepted as an Ultimate, one of the people destined to guide society... at least that's how the academy and the rest of the world look at it. So it's like, Natsumi's here, but she's not here... All she's done is navigate a the huddled masses of society to the front of the line... but now there's a cordoned off area, like when you see celebrities attending a movie premier. She's at the front of the crowd, but Fuyuhiko's canoodiling with the rest of the celebrities. She wants to be out there with him... But she can't yet. Because before anything, Hope's Peak needs to recognize her as an Ultimate like her Big Bro.

And this is where Hajime enters the picture. Natsumi gets to the front of the line, and she meets this other guy that's frustrated to be here like her. Hajime wants to be at Hope's Peak, but above all he wants to find pride in himself. To have a talent, to be good at something. So even if Hajime doesn't completely "get" Natsumi, he at least empathizes with wishing to get into the Main Course. Hajime is a bit intimidated by Natsumi being with the yakuza, but at the same time he's going along with society's grand delusions and thinks that Natsumi's as much a "nobody" like the rest of them because she's not an Ultimate. He does think Natsumi's too high and mighty for a Reserve student, and it doesn't help when Mahiru comes to deliver lunch for Sato, because Natsumi takes that as her cue to start something... because she and Mahiru have history. Natsumi's got some burning jealousy and envy going on, calling the photographer a goody two shoes and threatening her because the way Natsumi sees it, if there's an open slot, then she can squeeze into the Main Course. Be with her brother.

....... It doesn't go that way. Of course it doesn't go that way... Natsumi riles up Sato twice, and it takes Hajime (and Mahiru, the first time) to keep things from getting violent because Natsumi's threatening the photographer. It's not a shining moment for Natsumi, it's not meant to be. She's too goal-driven. Her yakuza blood is seeping through. I've talked with Vergilsama92 a few times about the romanticization of yakuza in Japan, it is a thing to pain yakuza in honorable, tragic lights... But honestly, yakuza are still criminals at the end of the day. and this right here is a good example of the daughter of a kumicho being too cutthroat, too willing to do anything to achieve her goals. Hajime defends her not out of some servitude to the mob, but because as someone that idolizes Hope's Peak, who thinks he and Natsumi resonate as far as that goes... he doesn't want her to get in trouble or lose her chance by doing something stupid. Hajime barely knows this girl. ... And he still empathizes with her.

Unfortunately for Hajime, it's not as simple as Natsumi caring about the academy. About having a talent. Perhaps Natsumi does want pride, to some extent, but it's as she explains it to Hajime: she feels left behind if Fuyuhiko just goes on as the Ultimate Yakuza and she's nothing. Hajime absolutely understands where Natsumi's coming from... 'cause he feels that same "gap" between him and Chiaki, or any Main Course student/staff for that matter. Hajime tries using Chiaki's words of wisdom to cheer Natsumi up, that she doesn't need to have a talent or be an elite. ... But unfortunately, it backfires a little bit - because Hajime's grasping around in the dark for a light switch just like Natsumi is. Chiaki's advice is good... But you need something to fill the void of talent, and Hajime can only assume for Natsumi that would be her relationship with her Big Bro, tries to console her with the fact Fuyuhiko's happy to be with her regardless of title... But Natsumi's just too bitter, frustrated, and depressed. She idolizes Fuyuhiko just like Hajime idolizes Hope's Peak... and she believes her Bro should only have the very best people around him. She wants Fuyuhiko to be proud of her, not looking down from above, to stand by his side.

... And man, poor Hajime just has no idea what to say. Because he gets her. That's the whole reason he's reaching out to a relative stranger in the first place. And here's the ironic beauty of this scene: it's okay that Hajime doesn't know the answers yet. Some people might say, "Makoto would've known what to say, Chiaki would've known, Chisa would've known..." And to that, I say that's not necessarily true. Conundrums like this take time to sort through, and the fact that Makoto, Chiaki, and Chisa are all Ultimates, it would've made it challenging to interact with Natsumi at first - not because they're so arrogant, but because Natsumi would see them as, rightfully or not, people that are superior to her. Natsumi wouldn't be so quick to open up to a bunch of random Ultimates, not at this stage. She's too bitter and hurt.

In this instance, I really would argue that Hajime was the "best" person to connect with Natsumi in the beginning. They're not completely the same; Hajime just wants pride in himself, and Natsumi wants to feel equal to her Bro. Hajime doesn't have the answers yet, they both need to remove their idols from their unreachable pedestals, but with some more time it's possible that he and Natsumi could have settled into this mutual search of "something else". I'll reiterate: It's okay to not know what to say. I read an article recently that talks about how as a society we need to have a ready, immediate answer to every little thing, every eventuality... And that's just not true. You don't need to know how to make yourself presentable, to sell yourself... You just need to be yourself. It's one of the hardest things, I know. XD Employers want this and that, demand you to do this and that, but sometimes you just have to take a step back, to divorce your private life from your job. Just "be you." Not what somebody else tells you to be.

I suppose that's the crux, the tragedy of Hajime and Natsumi here. They're teenagers doing what teenagers do best: Trying to find themselves. Hajime wants to be good at something, Natsumi wants to be her brother's equal. Unfortunately, however, that puts them at the mercy of Hope's Peak's agenda, because all those lies they feed the public? If Hajime and Natsumi want to get their wishes, they'll have to become Ultimates. That's the only surefire way to get anywhere in life, that's the magic spell Hope's Peak has weaved over the general populace. But Reserve Course have no hopes of transferring into the Main Course - they're cash cows. And if on the very rare chance they develop a talent, then they go from being a cash cow to a guinea pig, an animal in a cage purely for observation to funnel all that research into the Kamukura Project. And Hajime's in the most dangerous position of all, being the first potential guinea pig for that Project. The academy's offering Hajime a carrot, and he's really tempted to reach out and take it... But he met Chiaki. Met her teacher. Met Mister Tengan. And now he's met Natsumi... And Hajime's just so lost on what he should do. He only has so much time to make a decision, and it's going to change his life no matter what. He'll either go for the carrot, and lose himself in the process; or he'll be cast out because his family isn't rich enough to keep sending him to school there.

Hajime feels this tug between two ideals - Chiaki's and Natsumi's. He wants to believe in Chiaki, that there's another way... but he jives with Natsumi so much that it hurts.

And then the unthinkable happens: Even though Hajime just met her, Natsumi dies. Sure, the audience could see that Sato was deeply disturbed, that she had her own obsession in Mahiru... And Natsumi threatening the photographer sent Sato over the edge. However, the characters don't have this omniscient understanding of people; Natsumi dies within days of being accepted to Hope's Peak's Reserve department. You might not think that this would impact Hajime so much... but it does. Much like how Darth Maul killing Qui-Gon helped decide Anakin's fate in Star Wars, the same kind of tragedy happens here: Hajime had someone that resonated with him. He had someone that bounced a dialogue off with him to help figure some things out... And now that person's gone.

Say what you will about Natsumi being a terrible role model or a terrible human being because she was a yakuza, but from what we can deduce from her death is that she is a victim in this case. Not a blameless one, but nothing suggests that she truly planned to off Mahiru, unless you take Sato at her word. We're left with this impression that Sato jumped the gun, and now Hope's Peak is in a pinch because of the upcoming exams - so they sweep the murder under the rug because the academy's good name comes first above all else.

Hajime plunges on ahead, oblivious to the politics involved. Because... he needs to find out the truth of Natsumi's death. Even if he barely knew her, he needs to know who killed her, and why... To give himself closure as much as Natsumi. Hajime's still so lost and reeling...

... And he can't catch a break. He overhears Sato and Mahiru talking in the courtyard, and is on the right track with suspecting Sato of the crime... But Sato refuses to talk to him. Leaving Hajime with only one option: Talk to Mahiru. Which... obviously doesn't happen. Because Hope's Peak doesn't let Reserves onto the Main Campus... And Juzo goes rough on him because he's trying to protect Hajime in his own arrogant, misguided way. Because Juzo knows the Steering Committee would bury the kid if he made too much noise about this murder.

It's the last straw for Hajime, however... He's hurt, he's broken... and Chiaki's "hope" rings hollow for him, because he doesn't see how a nobody like him can live in this world where the elite bury the nobodies like they don't even matter, a world where he's so powerless. He still admires and loves Chiaki a lot - but he can't live on like this. and he winds up choosing to take the carrot that Hope's Peak is giving him.

I come to the end of this long-ass summary of canon... to say that this only plays a very small part of my love for Hinatsumi. It's a small, yet meaningful part. Because like how Chiaki's death "snapped" him back to Hajime, it was Natsumi's death that was the trigger to the chain of events that cornered Hajime. Hajime barely knew this girl... and yet she had such a profound effect on his life because they were like reflections in a mirror. Honestly, Hinatsumi has some parallels to Naezono for me, 'cause Sayaka didn't get to live long, either... XD Admittedly, however, Natsumi is not a lovesick puppy for Hajime like Sayaka is for Makoto. ... Not. Even. Close.

Honestly, if Natsumi's death could have been averted, that would just be the starting point to a world of new possibilities. Let's start with the fact that Natsumi opened up to Hajime about her brother in the first place. This is a guy she just met, she's been looking down her nose at all these other "scrubs" that are their classmates... and here's this guy that, as wishy-washy as he can be, has shown that he has some spine. And sure, he whines and quibbles over how they're gonna get accepted into the Main Course, but he wants to get there. He could use some more time stewing in the pot or whatever, but Hajime's not completely hopeless. At least he tries to talk back to her, talk like they're equals; everyone else is so relaxed about being in the Hope's Peak... even though they're frankly not. Whether or not Natsumi realizes this yet, Hajime's someone that she respects on some level. Enough to tell him about her brother and how he deserves only the very best. And hey, maybe it's something that she's been meaning to get off her chest, and she hasn't found anyone to listen to her up until now...

At least it's a start. I imagine if Sato's attempted murder had failed for whatever reason, there'd still be this tension between Natsumi, Sato, and Mahiru; and Fuyuhiko and Peko would probably be dragged into it. But that obvious point aside, as the deadline for Hajime's decision draws closer, Natsumi would most likely press him about what's eating away at him, why he's so hung up on getting into that main campus...

And I think Hajime might just open up to her about his decision, in some capacity. Whether he tells her about the Project, or whether he keeps to the confidentiality agreement, he would still convey that his tuition's running out... And there's something he needs to decide on, if he's gonna stay here or not. Even if he keeps mum about the Project, Natsumi would probably understand it's something clandestine, something a bit too intense for Hajime's current level. ... And she'd probably tell him to just not have anything to do with it. Natsumi has seen shady shit, and it's not stuff that she'd wish on Hajime. If it was money troubles he was having, he should have just told her; I can see that as an attitude Natsumi would have. In a situation where Natsumi is saved from dying by Hajime (and yes, there's a few fanfics out there to that effect), her family would feel this sort of indebtedness to him, and would likely offer a deal for tuition money. But in worlds where the attempted murder is thwarted through other means, and Hajime doesn't have that reckless savior status going for him, I can see Natsumi talking with her brother or her dad to get a "job" lined up for Hajime, whether as a lookout or train him up as a bodyguard, whatever they feel Hajime needs to do to earn that tuition money, and they'd go from there.

Of course... I don't see Hajime all too thrilled to be making a deal with a yakuza group, but the alternative is losing his place at Hope's Peak altogether or accepting their Project when he's still so uncertain. In the spirit of "open-mindedness", I think Hajime would take a shot with working with the Kuzuryu's if he's primarily working with Natsumi or her brother that he hasn't met yet. The reason for that is that he knows Natsumi (... well, a little) and she seems sincere enough that her brother has scruples, too. Maybe he can have an effect on them or their family; and if not that, well, being trained in some capacity isn't a bad thing. Few others seem so willing to give Hajime a chance, and the ones that are honestly have their lives more together than Hajime does.... XD It's just speculation, but based on how he interacts with Natsumi and Fuyuhiko, I think he'd take a shot with them. ... Even if the carrot Hope's Peak is offering is so tantalizing. XDDD

Whatever path Hajime takes, whether it's leaving Hope's Peak or working with the Kuzuryu's... I think Natsumi would stay in touch, at least. Maybe if their friendship deepens, she'd transfer to his school eventually, if he decided to leave. It's just a hunch more than anything, but they wouldn't break off their tentative friendship, regardless of what Hajime does. Without a murder, Hope's Peak is less antsy, and that gives Hajime a much more "friendly" environment to avoid rushing into deciding to do the Kamukura Project. If he stays, chances are he'll meet Mahiru properly, meet Fuyuhiko and Peko, and possibly all of Chiaki's classmates... But as cozy with Chiaki as he is, I have a feeling Natsumi would get territorial before long. Seeing the goofballs that is Fuyuhiko's classmates, Natsumi might even lose a bit of confidence that going to the Main Course is what she wants... Hajime's a lot easier to handle, and some of them would just piss her off.... (人◕ω◕) She probably wouldn't give up going to the Main Course right away, and neither would Hajime, but more time to think about things would chill both of them out.

To properly end this off, I'll get into the more "shippy" reasons for why these two work. And yes, it's not because they're both Reserve Course... though that helps in chilling Natsumi out. That she's not being talked down to.

... *stares at height difference between Natsumi and Hajime* Just don't say anything, Pyro.... (人◕ω◕);;;;;;;;

Obviously, Hajime and Natsumi have different, even clashing personalities. This is great, because they balance each other out! They complement each other. Natsumi is short-tempered, foul-mouthed, bossy, stubborn, but she's got a backbone, and she'd help Hajime build up his. If Hajime works for the Kuzuryu's, it might be touch-and-go at first because Natsumi may be playful and screw around with having him do stuff for her or Fuyuhiko... But she'd also, sooner or later, pick up on his potential for talking to people. That is to say, Hajime might not have the answers to everything, but at least he tries and at least he listens. Natsumi might nudge him to "counselor"-esque positions, maybe at first (jokingly) suggesting to provide counsel to yakuza who want to leave or retire from the gang - Hajime would deadpan back that yakuza don't "retire" like most "professions." Maybe she wouldn't be completely hands-on with telling Hajime where to go, but if he eventually found something himself that he was relatively confident in, Natsumi would support him all the way.

Hajime, on the other hand, may be wishy-washy, uncertain, cautious, and down on himself a lot... But he does have scruples, he reflects, and he'd be down-to-earth which would offset Natsumi's fiery spirit. He might not be able to defuse "every" conflict Natsumi is a part of, but if they hang around each other enough, he'll help chill Natsumi out. In turn, she'll help give him a tenacity, a determination. Hajime would probably meet Fuyuhiko (and Peko) sooner rather than later, and boy would he be nervous. lol But he'd get to know Fuyuhiko a lot, and Fuyuhiko would see the balming effect Hajime has on Natsumi's obsessive drive to be his equal. And Fuyuhiko would approve the hell out of that. Anything to keep her from the stark raving madness that she embodied at the start of the school year.

Hajime and Natsumi would be a slow buildup for a romance... and that's honestly fine. Natsumi would see Hajime as a friend before anything else for a long time, and she'd have these other ideas for "boyfriend material"... And maybe she'd learn the hard way those types aren't what she's looking for. They'd sort of stumble into the romance, with Natsumi getting a bit jealous Hajime's so comfortable around Chiaki... give Hajime the cold shoulder if worse comes to worst, but then find out she misses his company, and tries to make it up to him. Hajime in turn gives Natsumi space when it seems like she needs it, and cares about her; though he'd probably flip a bit if he realized he was falling for a yakuza...

In an ideal world, perhaps Natsumi leaves the yakuza behind to raise a family with Hajime, someday. Like Fuyuhiko, she has scruples; and it's possible that Sato killing her is a sign that Natsumi isn't all hardcore and violent like she puts on. ... Maybe Sato just got lucky, we can't be sure. But I like to think if she keeps on developing, Natsumi will see the criminal underworld isn't all as glamorous as she thought it was, as a kid. Perhaps Hajime would see the conflict between morals and duty, and suggest they get out while they have the chance; Natsumi might not take it so well at first, but... Like Fuyuhiko, she might come to accept she can't "change" the family to the extent that she would want.... 'cause yakuza are criminals at the end of the day. They're not gonna be able to keep up an "honorable" facade forever.

That aside, in general, Hinatsumi is nice 'cause they're two wayward souls that balance each other out. They push and tug each other like the moon and the waves. Chances are, even if Hajime refuses the Project, the Tragedy's still gonna happen, just maybe not as we know it. But at least in this path, Hajime and Natsumi both have a chance to live and fight the good fight with Future Foundation. If the Tragedy never happens, well.... they'll still probably realize Hope's Peak isn't all it's cracked up to be. And they don't need to be Ultimates to live a satisfying life~

Hope you enjoyed my long-ass analysis/speculation on the Hinatsumi ship. Like I said, I wanna do this for some of my other favorite minor ships... Just to spread the love around. :3

[goldentigerfestival]

@crestfallencrest replied: Unfortunately I am now being haunted by this Yuri too, WHAT!!!!!!! Im not too familiar with Crestoria so Im not sure what a transgressor is in this context but holy hell this design???? O_O

Basically a transgressor is someone who was condemned by the majority of the world to be a sinner. Everyone in the world carries a Vision Orb with them to use to record things and they can broadcast things other people do to the entire world, spin a narrative and the world decides if they're guilty of the mentioned crime (they can also leave things out, make things up entirely, etc to fit the narrative they're going for if they're lying).

If the world decides someone is guilty, their Vision Orb breaks and is replaced with a mark called the Stain of Guilt (which is apparently physically painful to get), proving they've sinned and are "guilty", and monster-like creatures called Enforcers show up to kill them (they warp them away into another dimension and kill them basically). Since Yuri isn't dead he warded them off and is on the run like the main cast. Enforcers tend to lay off after a while, but if people see the person again and recognize them, they're likely to call for Enforcers again (in Yuri's case I imagine they'd just call for them anyway, recognized or not, because he clearly has a mark).

When the judgment is that someone is a sinner, the person literally hears their voices of their opinions/comments about them in their head before their Vision Orb breaks, so seeing the general design for Yuri I feel like it fits, but I'm still going to lose sleep for the rest of my life wondering what his story was and how they were going to fit him into the main story (crossover characters could be pretty important and Milla's backstory was tied to the at-the-time main antagonist to the whole story). I'm also ruined over the fact that I am craving Yuri and Vicious interaction in general, plus on top of their Crestoria game stories, as well as their knight boyfriends getting Tired just by watching them together.

Which, for that matter, a Yuri side story probably would've included Flynn, and we'd probably see how Flynn feels about seeing Yuri's crime if not "crime" broadcast to the world and seeing him condemned to be a criminal worth being killed (they don't use Vision Orbs for all crimes, hence why they have knights who handle the small time stuff. Use of a Vision Orb means you're gunning for the person to essentially get the death penalty, which is what will happen if they're condemned and can't fight the Enforcers off). In Vespy we have Flynn being the one who keeps warning Yuri while the people generally love or appreciate him, but in Crestoria it's the complete opposite just based off the fact that he was condemned. Flynn just having to live knowing the whole world hates Yuri and probably thinking he did do something that bad and being so distraught about it... 😔

I imagine it'd ultimately be something like, Yuri was condemned on either false or not-the-whole-story accusations and Flynn used to be one of those people who took Vision Orb users at their word, only to find out how skewed the system was. Would probably meet up with Yuri at some point to get answers (I don't think he'd go there to arrest him if he was a knight in this verse because bringing Yuri back would quite literally mean sending him to his death) and find out the truth. Don't know if Yuri would be on a mission to destroy all the Vision Orbs to prevent good people from being condemned in the future like Kanata is, but he seems to definitely have had a goal in mind. Sad we won't know because his interests feel like they'd have aligned with the main cast's like Milla's did.

Also I get the feeling that Yuri wouldn't regret his sin because I can't see him not doing it for a good purpose (and he's got the damn mark on display like Vicious, who was essentially also wrongfully called a sinner). It's a shame that he would have to be a crossover character in status too though, because the mix of his canon story and his Crestoria story would've normally landed his ass right into the main cast and him getting a Blood Sin from Vicious (which Vicious gives people when they accept their sin and vow to live with it basically). Heck, he might've even done that as a side character and just helped on the side like Milla helped on the side.

I'm sorry this is so long LOL the possibilities were just... THERE. If you ever have the time I'd recommend giving the game a watch on YouTube from what's been recorded from the game. The main story is fully voiced, and you've side stories for the crossover characters and event stories like the other gacha games. The manga changed up a few chunks already because of the removal of the crossover characters, so I personally would recommend the game before the manga. :O

[my-year-of-game-boy]

Week 5: Doncaster Video Game Market

I stole this from their Facebook, but it's okay because they stole the Sonic font first

I'm doing something a little different this week. I mentioned in my very first post for this blog that one of the things I like to do to build my Game Boy collection is to visit retro game shows and conventions. Well, this weekend, I went to a local one that I had some good luck at last year. In fact, you'll probably be hearing a bit more about one of the games I picked up at that one later in the month.

We got in...eventually.

My wife and a friend of ours made our way to the historic Doncaster Dome for the annual retro game hootenanny. Last year, we were pretty prepared, organizing a bunch of folks and getting early access tickets. This year, um, we nearly forgot the date but made it as doors opened to non-ticket holders. Luckily, we weren't after any big ticket items or else we would have died of regret seeing someone carry out a Power Glove as we were making our way in.

In retrospect, I should've started a Planet of the Apes game collection...

I've got a giant list of Game Boy games I'm after that I'm unlikely to ever finish. So the goal of the day, just like last year, was to check a few of those off. That means anytime I saw a line of square cardboard boxes like this or a stack of grey cartridges, I was making my through the horde to take a look at each and every one of them.

There's gold in them there tubs!

In addition to having this little list, I've got a vague idea of what the games are worth. And sometimes, how it's worth saving quite a few bucks (Or British pounds or whatever they call money here) by grabbing a Japanese version of something that doesn't really require much text. Which also requires hoping I can recognize some logos or art on a cartridge. Finding some common imports without having to actually import is the other nice thing about these bins full of imports.

I just think this is beautiful.

It's nice being able to actually see the condition of a cartridge in a way you really can't with online pictures. And there's sometimes a sense of history to that particular cartridge, as I recounted in my Star X entry. You mean a few interesting characters, too. This time around, there was someone going around to every booth with a PSP and checking to see if they worked or not, seemingly with no intention of actually buying one.

I'm pretty sure this port is bad, while the GBA port is good, but regardless, I decided I didn't need a Game Boy version of Street Fighter II.

I was mainly focused on Game Boy, but I was keeping an eye out for some other games, both for myself and others. I have a work friend who is really into horror games and is serious about building up that collection, so I kept sending updating him on gems like Silent Hill: Shattered Memories and Parasite Eve II. While a friend of my wife's is a Myst speed runner and tries for records on any port of the game he can, so we picked up an Xbox copy of Myst III for him. Meanwhile, my wife finally added a grail game to her collection with Chibi Robo, albeit a Japanese copy.

There was literally a sign saying you should ask for any Pokémon plush not on the shelf.

Merch was a plenty, and I'm kind of surprised we didn't pick up any of the Pokémon Scarlet and Violet cards from Japan just for the novelty of it. I remember buying Johto singles as a kid before I knew who any of the new Pokémon were. At a show like this, buying cards and toys is kind of my equivalent of trying not to fill up on bread. I'll end up blowing my budget on things that aren't really my main purpose of going. But for some folks, grabbing a wheelbarrow full of plushies is the end goal, and more power to them.

Maybe next year should be My Year of game.com...

Anyway, I ultimately had fun, as did my better half, although our friend only made it out with one game (One relevant to this blog, the GBA port of Yoshi's Island). I came out with about 11 and mostly in my budget. Mostly...

Looks like a random grab bag, huh?

I don't normally do CiB, but these were much cheaper than they were going for online and they were on my list, so...

Pretty sure this won't play on my Analogue Pocket.

My wife was the plushie person this time and she got me the Dragonair!

That's my haul from this year. For those that can't see the pictures, we've got Wade Hixton's Counter Punch (GBA), Pokémon Pinball: Ruby & Sapphire (JPN) (GBA), Mario's Picross (GB), One Piece: Grand Line Dream Adventure Log (GBC), Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (GB), Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters II (GBC), James Bond 007 (GB), Magi-Nation (GBC), Pinobee: Wings of Adventure (GBA), Dragon Ball Z: Collectible Card Game (GBA), Izuna: The Unemployed Ninja (I refuse to call this by its European name) (DS), and Pokémon plush toys. Some of these might get their own entries on this blog, so I won't talk too much about them. I guess one I can safely say I won't be writing much more about is this One Piece game. I mostly grabbed it because it has the distinction of being the last officially license game released that's compatible with the original Game Boy. Also, it has some pretty cool Game Boy versions of music from the anime. That and Izuna, but, who knows, maybe I'll do a Year of DS?

Speaking of, hope y'all enjoyed this slightly different entry even if I didn't talk about a specific game. I technically did play these all for a few minutes to make sure they worked, but there's not a lot to write about there just yet.

I've seen this exact copy of the Elder Scrolls N-Gage game at three different cons and one day, it will be mine. £200 be damned...

[neonscandal]

Manga With Me: JJK Crackpot (But Maybe Not) Pocket Theory Edition

Miwa's Origin

The Games are revealing more and more to us while the tunnel vision around each fight leaves a lot to the imagination, specifically as it pertains to the health and welfare of some of our favorite jujutsu sorcerers (and those in training). I’m of the mind that nothing in Gege Akutami’s story has been without purpose and that includes the inclusion of some of the less flashy characters. So, go with me down this "what if" rabbit hole -

⚠️ Spoiler warning: covers content through chapter 187

Buckle up, dorks, this is going to be a bumpy one. I'm doing a lot of mental gymnastics to get there so, if you're not interested in the read, jump to the end for the TLDNR!

With the way jujutsu society is set up, we've got a lot of big family names that go back centuries and have carried weight within the community. The Zenin, Gojo and Kamo clans come to mind most readily (though we find that Toge Inumaki also comes from a jujutsu family).

At this point, it wouldn't be surprising, with the incarnation of several old curse users, that we start seeing more situations like the below wherein someone's great-great-great-great something runs the risk of cropping up and crossing their own kin.

What a messed up family.. bush?

What's critical about this reveal is that we see Kenjaku has been deeply ingrained in the fabric of jujutsu history. He's worn many names and faces that aren't limited just to Suguru Geto, Kaori Itadori and Noritoshi Kamo. Additionally, we see that with each iteration, he's closing in on his end goal which includes the experimentation and evolution of curses. With an evil that seems to span hundreds of years, I'm sure he's besmirched the good name of plenty of sorcerers but, more importantly, born witness to much the jujutsu world has to offer. At this point, we know that includes none other than Hajime Kashimo as revealed in recent chapters.

In terms of characterization, we see that Kashimo is driven to destruction, drawn by the promise and delight of a good fight. At the height of getting beat down by Hakari's technique, we're given a glimpse into his distant history. Having laid waste to a foe and discontented by the lack of challenge, he's approached by Kenjaku!John Doe who he recognizes immediately and simply as Kenjaku. Lamenting about the fact that he picked the wrong fight, Kenjaku alludes to the fabled strength of Ryo Ishigori (which suggests Kenjaku hadn't met him) before ultimately redirecting Kashimo's bloodlust toward Sukuna. This explains how Kenjaku essentially curried Kashimo's buy in for the Culling Games and this is emphasized by Kashimo's one track mind while in game.

Okay? But what does this have to do with Miwa?

Relax, I'm getting there.. probably. Akutami has a penchant for coded names as seen with Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki. Hajime apparently means beginning so, for the sake of argument, let's say that's where this whole thing starts. SO, this is the first exchange we really see Kenjaku interacting with someone at the inception of this whole chain of events. If you're wondering why that's integral to my theory, let's peep this fight scene.

Why on earth did Kenjaku!Geto try to body silly little Miwa with Maximum: Uzumaki just then? Baby girl is holding onto that katana for dear life and, at every junction, it's taken from her. Maki clowned her (and broke her sword) and then it breaks again in the heat of this battle. With Mechamaru out of the picture, and if we're strictly focusing on close combat, I'd definitely stake my money on Todo over anyone else in the Kyoto school though we know he's largely unreliable as he's given to find his own fight elsewhere. I suppose that's why they put Miwa as their frontman during this botched attempt at catching Kenjaku!Geto off guard but.. what if this was actually their best foot forward because Miwa's a sleeping dragon?

For a cast of characters that boasts such bad ass womxn, Miwa's been downplayed and cut off at the neck at every opportunity she's been given to shine. What if the big reveal is that she's related to Kashimo.

You really went from A to WTF pretty quick, pls explain

Um, gladly, just know that this started as a crackpot theory and it's maybe held together by silly string but the more I write the more I'm like "ain't no way I'm wrong!".

One could say Kenjaku!Geto was priming his attack to unleash on Yuji, Choso and Panda as, at the time, they were the biggest threat before him. However, he caught wind of Kyoto School fairly quickly and had eyes on Miwa as she launched her attack wherein he broke her sword. Threat dealt with and yet he still saw her and said "get wrecked". WHY?

Here's what we know about Jujutsu Kaisen in universe. Nobara, shown as a child with dark or black hair, is shown as a teenager with orange dyed hair canonically. So if black is the figurative blueprint, why is Miwa's hair canonically light blue? We know that previously her mother would hide the color by dying it black for school which reiterates black as the natural canon and emphasizes how unnatural her light hair is. In a previous Akutami interview, we also know that Miwa was recruited into Jujutsu High because of her hair. I'm guessing it's the color over the choice in cut.

Here's what we know about Kashimo. Aside from being a bloodthirsty, power-seeking relic from 400 years ago, he has light hair in both iterations. We associate light hair with age of course but also power (Gojo-sensei where you at- oh). In the throw back, sure, he may be shown as elderly but what if the cough of blood into his hand is the product of a hard won fight as opposed to the luxury of dying of old age. Aesthetically, his younger vessel also having light hair has got to count for something. Additionally, intentionally exposing Kashimo and Kenjaku's shared history in this way better alludes to what would trigger Kenjaku!Geto to attack right then.

Do Kashimo and Miwa have the same power, no, but maybe it's because she hasn't yet realized the katana is ill-fitting as she is shown time and time again? She keeps getting bested and what if it's because she hasn't yet unlocked her birthright✨

The fact that we caught a glimpse of Miwa 10 or so chapters back suggests something’s coming and I can’t wait to see what.

It's very much giving "Boulevard of Broken Dreams".

TLDNR: In their face off, Kenjaku!Geto recognized Miwa as a threat because of her hair which is why he felt the need to godsmack her out of existence with Maximum: Uzumaki so perhaps she's distantly related to harbinger of destruction and menace Hajime Kashima.

[nugnthopkns]

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence. 

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something. 

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place. 

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more. 

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy. 

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain. 

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus. 

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over. 

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at. 

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why. 

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck. 

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste. 

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault. 

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize. 

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals. 

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things. 

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting. 

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person. 

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe. 

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better. 

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water. 

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands. 

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats. 

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program. 

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating. 

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack. 

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you. 

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked. 

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything. 

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home. 

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days. 

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice. 

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs. 

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes. 

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly. 

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight. 

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat. 

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment. 

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode. 

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.” 

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself. 

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase. 

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting. 

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble. 

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.” 

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed. 

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to. 

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home. 

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate. 

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year. 

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters. 

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone. 

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask. 

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping. 

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat. 

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches. 

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors. 

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates. 

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time. 

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score. 

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door. 

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended. 

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him. 

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah. 

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel. 

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up. 

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom. 

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair. 

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump. 

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip. 

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps. 

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey. 

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you. 

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake. 

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye. 

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel. 

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you. 

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before. 

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice. 

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves. 

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates. 

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet. 

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone. 

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd. 

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals. 

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features. 

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda. 

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point. 

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

 It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase. 

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him. 

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months. 

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received. 

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper. 

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about. 

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list. 

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship. 

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them. 

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights. 

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.  

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop. 

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.” 

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience. 

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around. 

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door. 

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles. 

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years. 

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut. 

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?” 

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall. 

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?” 

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is. 

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete. 

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly. 

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction. 

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well. 

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much. 

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal. 

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror. 

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger. 

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates. 

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch. 

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city. 

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile. 

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift. 

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible. 

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable. 

“Good morning,” he repeats. 

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities. 

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off. 

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals. 

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine. 

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep. 

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front. 

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly. 

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay. 

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse. 

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.” 

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you. 

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself. 

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms. 

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot. 

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down. 

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help. 

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there. 

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater. 

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain. 

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength. 

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again. 

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink. 

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ @boqvistsbabe​ @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice​ if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[alexandravakimova]

For the ask game - 1, 19, 49, 61

I hope that's not too many

Hey, thanks for the ask!

And it's not too many at all, no worries. :)

You didn't specify who for so I'll just do like half and half.

1. What drives them? What is their ultimate goal? - for Torryn Cousland:

Motivation is like the biggest piece of character development you could do so I shall use my less developed boy. At the beginning of the game, he was just kind of naive and wanted glory or honor or whatever he thought was expected of him. He didn't know really how awful war and death was - he'd been raised as the son of a very powerful family in a time of peace, why would he know it beyond what stories and songs said? Howe's betrayal really shook him, I think. He had no desire to join the wardens and honestly, he probably just wanted to tell his brother what happened and then go hide in the wilds or something. When he and Alistair became the last wardens in Ferelden, he did his duty, because he was the only one who could. Doesn't mean he was happy about it. So, for most of the game, it was just sort of "get this done and then you can move on with your life, whatever is left of it." Then, as his relationship with Morrigan developed, he started focusing on something other than just doing what he had to: he wanted to build a future for the two of them. That drive probably only increased when he found out that they were going to have a child. He put himself in a position of power and married the queen, which seemed like an ambitious and selfish move from the outside, but it was actually done because he wanted to secure something for Morrigan and his son, somewhere they could be safe and that gave them both a very comfortable future. So, in the end, I suppose he was motivated by a desire to protect and take care of his newfound family.

19. What sparks genuine, unadulterated rage in them? - For Iarlaith Hawke

Honestly, Hawke is easy to find things that make him happy or that are funny so this one is good for him. I mean, there's people: Meredith, Petrice, and of course mage rights but what probably really actually enrages him is, hm... Honestly, it might just be not treating people as people or that they're worthwhile despite their class/race/sexuality/etc. He's struggled with homophobia from his mother and her traditionalist views his whole life and it's really messed him up. He, his siblings, and his father have never been able to tell her that they have elven blood because of a different part of those traditionalist views. So, seeing someone be treated as "not enough" or "nothing" probably enrages him to no end.

On another side, his relationship with his mom probably also has made him exceptionally irritated about anyone who won't accept the responsibility for their actions and blame it on others (i.e: she didn't have to go run off or get pregnant, even if that part was an accident. It wasn't his fault he was born). But I'm not sure he lets that side come out as much.

Whatever it is, it comes from his shit relationship with his mom, no doubt. :)

49. How often do they cut their hair, if at all? - For Iarlaith Hawke

Enough to take care of it. He doesn't actually cut his hair much; he lets Anders do it. He likes him playing with his hair. I think it keeps getting slightly longer throughout the acts.

After the end of the game, he cuts his hair short so as to not be recognized as easily.

61. Is there an in-game moment of theirs you think about and just laugh? - For Torryn Cousland

This would be very hard to do for Hawke since there are so many moments I find hilarious.

But my warden... Hm. Honestly all of Awakening is just hilarious. He recruits a bunch of criminals and murderers, makes them a found family, then just goes off never to be seen again. And yet I bet they're all insanely loyal to him no matter what. So, yeah, probably just the fact of who he chose to start rebuilding the order in ferelden. I think he and they are the only peopld who actually find that funny, though.

Thanks again for the ask! I think I wrote you a small novel in response. 😁

[crispy-chan]

burning sunflower | yang jeongin

↠ pairing: yang jeongin x gn!reader

↠ genre & warnings: fluff, hanahaki au (vomiting flower petals), lil bit of angst, strangers to friends to lovers, school au, soccer player!jeongin

↠ summary: your only friend Seungmin introduces you to Jeongin, the star of the school's soccer club and one of the most popular guys in the school. you two become friends quickly but you start to catch feelings...

↠ word count: 6.8k

↠ a/n: sooo, this was written for the @newskynet Valentine's day special event. Not sure if it's too late but it's Sunday evening where I live... if I slipped up with the gn! reader, please let me know. feel free to roast me for my lame header, I just decided to put the lectures on how to use GIMP to good use lmao

the prompts I used were: 21 “For me?”,  6. “No one’s ever given me something like this before.”  16. “Will you be my valentine?”

my masterlist

One.

You're not really sure when you started to like Jeongin. I mean, you two were friends, don't get me wrong but that was it. Friends.

That was all he would ever see you as, you thought bitterly. The label that many would love to have but you cursed yourself for it every day. You see, you were first introduced to the smiling boy by your good friend Seungmin who thought you should at least try to make friends other than him, claiming that he won't be with you forever.

***

“Oh come on Min, I thought we'd always be friends,” you whined as he dragged you to a small cafe after school where you would meet his friend.

“Stop acting so childish Y/N, you have to start talking to other people too, you know.”

“But whyyyy? I have you, right?” you giggled at his unamused expression, telling you that he had enough of your shit.

“Nope. You're going to make other friends and that's final. You wouldn't want to really turn into a hermit crab,” he said smugly.

Now it was your turn to look unimpressed. “You don't need to bring up my spirit animal, sheesh. What a low blow, even for someone like you, Min.”

“What was a low blow?” a boy around your age with a cheerful smile approached you giving you a questioning look. You just stood there nervously, staring at him for god knows how long until Seungmin finally broke the ice with a rather awkward cough and proceeded to introduce you guys.

“Y/N, this is Jeongin. Jeongin, this is Y/N,” he pointed at the two of you, swiftly introducing you to the other.

“Um,” you awkwardly extended your hand for a handshake, “hello, I'm Y/N, Seungmin's friend.”

He shook your hand with a firm grip before smiling from ear to ear, “I'm Jeongin, from the neighboring class.”

After you guys settled, you proceeded to order your drinks and snacks. The atmosphere was undeniably awkward, but Seungmin seemed adamant about reaching his goal.

“So look guys, I brought you both here because you both need more friends. You're both introverts who like to hide in their shells and I think you two have a lot in common, so I think this would be beneficial for both parties.”

“So you're basically trying to say that you don't want to hang out with us anymore?”

The innocence in his tone almost fooled you for a second, before you noticed the smug expression on his face and couldn't hold in the burst of laughter.

“Man, I like him already,” you sniggered after you caught your breath, patting a visibly annoyed Seungmin on the back.

“Who would have thought there is someone more savage than you in this school.”

The unimpressed deadpan he gave you made you fall into another fit of giggles, prompting Jeongin to chuckle too.

After the waitress came back with your beverages, you proceeded to distract yourself by making little paper balls and blowing them through your straw into the ceramic pot on the table. You got so distracted, that you spaced out and didn’t notice when Seungmin started waving his hand in front of your face.

“Y/N, Y/N! Are you even listening?”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being caught zoning out. No wonder you had no friends. Slowly lifting your head, you faced Seungmin, waiting for him to repeat what he just said.

“I asked if you wanted to come to watch him play on Saturday.”

“Watch who?” you asked confusedly.

“Jeongin, he's on our school's soccer team,” he deadpanned, annoyed at your lack of concentration.

“Umm, sure...I guess. I'm not much of a sports person but I have nothing to do on the weekend,” you mumbled, mentally checking for any possible plans or chores you could have. Well jokes on you, you had none.

Jeongin beamed at that, taking a sip from his beverage as he pulled out his phone. “I'm glad you can make it - Seungmin would come but he has an exam he has to prepare for,” he explained, “the match starts at five o'clock.”

“Wait, wait, what? There's an exam next week?” you screeched. You were almost positive that there weren't any but dread filled you at even the slightest possibility.

The boy let out a chuckle at your obvious panic, shaking his head. “No, the exam is in two weeks but you know how he is.”

You could feel a weight being lifted from your heart as you sighed in relief. “Thank god, I thought I missed something,” you giggled.

Jeongin smiled at the display. Maybe hanging out with you wouldn't be that bad, at least he'd have someone he knew watching the game other than Seungmin who wasn't exactly the most supportive when it came to sports, opting to rearrange his binder or do his homework instead of watching.

“Thanks, it means a lot to me. I'm always happy if there is someone cheering for me in the stands,” he winked, making your heart skip a beat.

Wait a minute.

Something wasn't right here.

After the two of you bid goodbye to Jeongin, you dragged Seungmin out of the cafe, the gears in your head spinning at maximum speed.

“Wait a second Seungmin, he's not that popular striker who scores most of our school's goals that all the girls swoon over, right? Please tell me I'm right,” you stammered, pulling on his sleeve.

“Relax Y/N, he's really nice-”

“So it's him?!”

“Yes,” he sighed, opening his mouth to say something, probably to convince you to not bail on his friend but you didn't even give him the chance.

“I can't believe it! Why didn't you tell me? You made me agree to accompany one of the most popular guys in our school! His fangirls will kill me,” you hissed. Although you never remembered his name, it was practically basic knowledge that anyone on the soccer team was insanely popular with a cult-like following of crazed fans who went after anyone near them.

“Calm down, ok,” he held you by the shoulders, “ you will be ok, alright? He's a really nice guy who could also use some friends. All the other guys on the team are seniors so it's hard for him to find someone he can talk to face to face,” he tried to explain.

“And don't worry,” he added with a smile, “you don't have to do anything, just come and watch the match and cheer him on a bit, alright?”

“Alright,” you groaned.

Two.

You should have never agreed to come to that soccer game. That ultimately became your downfall. If you had never agreed to this, maybe you wouldn't be like this today.

You sighed, rummaging through your closet and trying to figure out what the hell were you supposed to wear. I mean - what was it even. You had no clue what was going to happen, you only knew that he and his teammates would pick you up on their way to the match.

He texted you the day before that he and the boys would stop by your house at three-thirty to come and collect you. After ten minutes of just standing there, you finally decided on a casual outfit and ran to your door to put your sneakers on. As if on cue, you could hear a car honking right outside your door and your phone lit up with a new text message.

Jeongin [03:32]

We're here.

You slammed the door shut and made your way to the vehicle. You could see a boy you recognized but didn't remember his name, behind the wheel. Inside the van, there were a few other boys scattered around, including Jeongin who sat in the back alone.

“Hi Y/N, hop in,” he beamed, rolling down the window. You smiled back, opening the door and taking a seat next to him.

“So, are you excited?” the boy driving turned to look at you with a grin as he slowly backed the car, driving away from your house.

“Yeah, it's been a while since I watched our team play and from what I’ve heard, you guys are pretty good,” you smiled nervously under their gazes.

They all laughed at that, happy to hear they had a good reputation even amongst the students not involved in sports.

“I'm Chan, by the way, captain of our schools’ soccer club,” the boy behind the wheel stated. Oh, so that's why he seemed so familiar. Practically everyone knew him, and he knew everyone too. He'd often greet people who didn't think he knew they existed and was always extra kind which combined with his captain status led to his immense popularity.

“The grumpy one next to me is Minho,” he pointed to the currently sleeping figure in the passenger's seat.

“Hey! I’m not grumpy!”

Well. Looks like he wasn't asleep after all.

“I'm Jisung,” the cheerful boy in front of you chimed as he turned around and gave you a big smile.

“And I'm Hyunjin.”

“Um, well...I'm Y/N,” you winced at how awkward you sounded but luckily, they didn't seem to mind as they all giggled.

“We know,” came Minho's curt reply, “Jeongin wouldn't shut up about you.”

“Ouch,” Minho screeched as Jeonging threw his shoe at him.

The rest of the car ride went rather smoothly, other than the occasional bickering of the guys but you honestly didn't mind. It was kind of comforting to just let go of everything and laugh along. It surprised you how nice they were, you kind of imagined them as selfish pricks but that clearly wasn't the case.

At one point, Hyunjin and Jisung started arguing over which color uniform they should wear for the match. You watched with a hint of amusement, that was until they turned to you for help.

“But look, if we choose the red one, Chan will be able to live out his dream as Christiano Bangnaldo,” Jisung pleaded as Chan let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Christiano Bangnaldo? Wow, I'm wheezing.”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin cut you guys off, “that's why we should choose the blue one, it goes better with my skin tone.”

“Oi, nobody cares about your damn skin tone, I want to see Christiano Bangnaldo,” Minho stated loudly, completely shutting up the younger two. Welp, seems like it was decided. What Minho wants, Minho gets.

After you finally arrived at the dimly lit school stadium, you made your way out of the car as Jeongin held the door open for you. Smiling, you thanked him for the kind gesture before finally looking around. And your socks were pretty much blown off.

Now you were wondering, why you never came here before. The field was slowly starting to fill with other students slash players but that didn't manage to hide the undeniable beauty of this place. The bleachers were surprisingly clean, unlike most high school stadiums. The dim lights cast a nice glow over the stadium, giving it a really homey feel. You looked around in awe, still surprised by the atmosphere of this place.

“Have you ever been here during the night?” a lean figure stood behind you, observing you and effectively cutting off your train of thought.

“Nope. This is the first time,” you breathed out.

“That's what I thought. It looks completely different when it's dark,” he chuckled, turning around to head to the locker rooms.

“So... I have to head back so we can all change. You can take a seat wherever you want, I'd recommend the first row,” he winked cheekily, accompanying the gesture with a throaty laugh.

You blushed at that, choosing to snuggle into your shirt, to hide your embarrassment. How could he be so cheesy so casually? He must have noticed your slight shiver as he slipped out of his varsity jacket.

Before you could even protest, he had already placed the jacket around your shoulders, patting your head. You opened your mouth to object but he cut you off, “it's ok Y/N, I’m not gonna need it anyways. And by the way...thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.”

You smiled, realizing that something that seemed so pointless, so small could mean so much to someone else. He seemed genuinely excited to have someone cheering for him, even if he had tens of fangirls doing just that. You huffed in the chilly wind, lifting your head up to gaze at him.

“No problem Jeongin, I'm happy I came.”

Something about how he smiled at you, stirred your insides, made your heart skip a beat. Your eyes trailed after him, lingering on his receding figure. You didn't look away until he stepped into the locker room, the door pretty much obstructing your gaze and snapping you out of this trance.

Looking around, you could sense that the stadium was slowly filling up. If you wanted to have a seat, you would have to be quick. You ran down to the first row seats but with a sigh realized that most of them were already taken. You were about to give up and run up to find a spot in the next row but a sharp tug on your sleeve stopped you.

Turning around, you spotted a boy, maybe a year or two older than you, looking at you with a curious face. You tried to pry out of his hold, tugging on your hand but he didn't let go. Right when you were about to scream, he finally spoke, “are you Jeongin's friend? We saved you a seat,” he motioned to the spot next to him.

“How the hell do you know that?” you asked, confusion evident.

“Well,” he chuckled, “the jacket…”

Oh. right. You were wearing Jeongin's varsity jacket. You almost forgot.

“So… are you and Jeongin-”

“No,” you cut him off before he could even finish the sentence, “I'm a friend of a friend who couldn't make it today so I came instead.”

“Oh, you see - I thought, Hyunjin said-” he suddenly stopped, not bothering to continue, instead opting to tug you down to sit next to him.

“Watch,” was all he said.

You sat there obediently, watching the game and occasionally cheering Jeongin on, whenever he passed the ball or attempted to score. He was really good, especially considering that he was the youngest on the team.

During the less intense parts of the game, you made small talk with the boy next to you. He introduced himself as Jinyoung. He was the captain of the lacrosse team and a good friend of Chan and Hyunjin. You found out that as a captain, he would attend almost all the other sports events that his friends partook in, claiming it to be common courtesy.

Both of you refocused your attention on the game. Your team seemed to be on the offensive again, Hyunjin passing the ball to Jisung, who maneuvered around one of the opposing team’s defenders before eventually passing to Minho.

Just when he was about to kick it, another leg appeared from the side, tripping him and making him fall flat on his face. He managed to at least stick out his hands so they would take the brunt of the fall but he struggled to get up on his feet.

Before the other boy could get away with the ball, the referee blew the whistle, signalizing a foul and stopping the game.

“What happened? Is he ok?” you asked, frantically scrambling up and leaning into the field from behind the barrier.

“Don't worry,” Jinyoung chuckled, “he'll be fine. They'll probably be getting a penalty kick. And I bet you a hundred bucks that Jeongin will be the one to take the shot.”

“Wait really? Is he that good?” you surprisedly inquired.

“Yeah, he's the best shot on the team.”

Now you were excited. You heard that he was good but never realized to what extent.

Jinyoung was right. You could see the coach huddled with the players in a circle, probably talking strategy or something before Chan patted Jeongin on the back. They all withdrew from the group circle leaving Jeongin to stand in front of the ball and the other team's goalkeeper to hunch down in preparation for the kick.

The referee blew the whistle, signalizing the resuming of the game. Jeongin took a few steps back before bursting into a run, kicking the ball into the upper left corner with utmost control.

You all stood up in anticipation, the kick seeming almost as if in slow motion, you could see the goalkeeper jump to his left, desperate to catch the ball before it landed in the net but his attempt was futile.

The kick he delivered was far too good to be caught, the expert technique and control visible to any onlooker. Paired with a huge roar of applause, you could all see the ball land in the goal with a thud.

Everyone erupted in cheers, including you and the atmosphere was great. You could see a few photographers who probably worked for the local sports columns, their cameras clicking like crazy, trying to capture the moment of glory of this young high schooler.

All of his teammates pulled Jeongin into a collective embrace, Chan slipping off his goalkeeper gloves before hoisting the boy on his shoulder.

In the heat of the moment, Jeongin looked through the spectators, trying to find the person that came to watch him. When he spotted you, cheering him on with a big grin, he couldn't help the fond smile from appearing. After he finally caught your gaze, he shot you a friendly wink, laughing at your flustered reaction.

“Wow, just friends you say,” Jinyoung teased, witnessing the whole exchange.

“Oh shut up! We met like a week ago.”

***

Fast forward to the end of the match. You guys won two to none, the second goal scored by Minho with the assistance of Jeongin and Hyunjin. Everyone was excited, the adrenalin and momentum of the game still hasn't passed. The smell of sweat and coke (coca-cola!) heavy in the air as you sat with the team on the benches and reminiscenced the game.

“Jeongin! That goal of yours was really great, you had so much control over the ball. All those hours of practice have paid off!”

Jeongin shyly hid his face, all the praise from his captain making him feel fuzzy from the inside.

“Yeah, everyone in the bleachers froze in anticipation when you kicked the ball,” you chimed in, feeling the need to join the praise bandwagon for the boy, “it was really cool.”

After that, Jeongin continued to receive pats on the back from fellow teammates, a few coaches, and random people that you didn't even know who came to congratulate him on his flawless playing today.

Overall, everyone had a great time. The stars were out and you all just wanted to soak up the atmosphere. So this is what having a social life during your teenage years meant? It made you wonder, how much were you missing out on. You wished time would just freeze, allowing you to live in this moment forever. You were gonna have to thank Seungmin for this later.

Jeongin, who was seated next to you must have noticed you zoning out. He placed his palm on your shoulder and asked, “are you ok Y/N? Do you want us to take you home?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. And only after the third time did you realize, that you still haven’t answered his question. You smiled before letting the reassuring words slip out of your mouth, “I'm fine. Great actually. Can't remember when was the last time I had so much fun.”

He sighed in relief, glad that you were having fun. From what he could tell (and from what Seungmin told him) you didn't have many friends nor did you hang out with people. The only person you considered a friend was Seungmin and he wasn't exactly a social butterfly himself, opting to study in most of his free time.

All of you ended up chatting until nine pm, completely forgetting about the time and simply enjoying yourselves. You checked your phone at nine-thirty, gasping in shock at the time.

“Everything ok?” Chan asked with concern.

“Um, yeah. Just didn’t realize it was so late. I should probably get going,” you muttered nervously, picking up all your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

“Oh right, it's quite late already. We'll give you a ride, right Chan?” Jeongin turned to his captain.

“Of course. Let's all get going. Chop chop. C'mon Hyunjin, you can tell them about your skincare routine next time,” he pulled the whining boy away from his third victim today.

You packed yourselves into the van, the seating arrangements only slightly different from on your way here. Hyunjin must have been still pissed at Chan for cutting his skincare speech short because he wouldn't shut up about it on the way to the parking lot. He kept going on and on about how moisturizing is important, even if you have oily skin. The captain dismissed his rant with a laugh and started the engine as the complaining boy sat down in the passenger seat.

At some point, Into the unknown came on shuffle and all the boys except Jeongin started singing. You burst out in laughter at their failed attempts at singing the high notes, seeing Jeongin hide his face in embarrassment.

“Guys! Come on, stop it,” he pleaded but the older boys only smirked in response and started singing even louder. By now, you were dying from laughing so hard, Jeongin having to pat your back aggressively so you won't choke on your own spit.

After they got bored of singing, you became their main talking point and they kept asking you borderline intrusive questions until Jeongin told them off, seeing how you turned slightly uneasy. Because of the typical Saturday evening traffic, you ended up falling asleep on the shoulder of a slightly pink Jeongin. He became super nervous once he realized you weren't awake and tried his best not to move and to hold you steady on every speed bump.

It took about fifteen more minutes for you guys to arrive in front of your place. Chan parked on the street and turned to say goodbye.

“Thanks for coming, Y/N. We're glad you came. Hope you had fun too,” he smiled, his dimples making an appearance.

“Jeongin especially,” Jisung whispered not-so-quietly and squeaked from the death glare Chan shot him.

You laughed softly, your cheeks bunching up as you waved them goodbye.

When you were laying in bed, your mind wandered off to today's events. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Seungmin was right. You really enjoyed yourself.

***

It was a sunny Monday morning when you were walking up the steps to your school entrance. You spent the rest of the weekend thinking about the Saturday game, not yet sure, how you felt about this newfound hobby. Maybe you should really spend more time with people. You also washed up Jeongin's varsity jacket that you forgot to return on Saturday evening.

You held the paper bag containing the washed piece of clothing in your right hand as you pushed the entrance door with your left. It felt all too easy, almost as if the door opened on its own. And you realized that no, you didn't grow stronger from that one arm toning workout you did yesterday as you saw a veiny hand press into the glass.

You turned to face that mystery person, only to sigh in relief as you were left face to face with Chan.

“Oh, hello,” you smiled, greeting him rather timidly. Because let's face it - you weren't exactly sure if they even considered you a friend. You were just some random girl that came to their soccer game.

Thankfully, he seemed to consider you a friend too as he gave you his dimpled smile, “hey Y/N, how was your weekend?”

“It was pretty good. I had lots of fun on Saturday and yesterday I just chilled,” you beamed.

“Same here,” he laughed, “we all pretty much passed out when we got home- oh shoot, the bell's off, I have to get to class. See you around.”

With a simple wave, he dashed out of your sight, turning around the corner to climb up the stairs to his classroom. You then remembered that you too had class and if you didn't wanna be late, you'd have to make a dash for it too.

***

It was during lunch break that you remembered that you had to return Jeongin his jacket. You nervously walked to his homeroom, anxious about what was going to happen. Will he think you're weird for coming to his class? Will he be embarrassed when you come up to him in front of all his friends? You sighed as you entered the classroom. It seemed like nobody noticed you at first, everyone was way too immersed with their own stuff. You could see that they all got along, the room booming with chatter and laughter.

Jeongin's table was near the window, a girl's chair turned to face him as they both engaged in a conversation. You awkwardly shuffled a few meters away, not wanting to interrupt. It was a truly wrecking moment, you even considered just turning around and disappearing without a trace but Jeongin noticed you and gave you a wide smile.

“Hey Y/N. What brings you here?”

You stood there for a few seconds before you finally remembered, what you came for. “Umm, hi. Just wanted to return this,” you handed him the bag, “I washed it and everything. Thanks for borrowing it.”

His eyes flashed in recognition after he peeked into the bag and he immediately returned the bag to your hand.

“It's fine,” he mumbled with slightly rosy cheeks (not that you noticed), “you can have it, I don't mind.”

You stared at him in shock, mouth slightly agape to which he awkwardly laughed. You were about to protest but the bell rang and Jeongin muttered that you should better get back to class.

You nodded in embarrassment, not even being able to look him in the eye as you hastily waved and ran out of the classroom.

You were mentally beating yourself up for that, you should have never come to his class, he must have been embarrassed that someone like you came to his class, everyone was probably used to him hanging around popular people like that girl he was talking to.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. You stuffed the paper bag with his jacket into your backpack, what were you even supposed to do with it - did he not hear that you washed it or something?

When you arrived home, you hung the jacket on one of the hooks near the door and headed to your room to get some homework done.

Three

It was a few months later that you and Jeongin officially became friends. During that time, the both of you hung out a lot more, courtesy of Seungmin and the rest of the soccer team who thought the two of you made great friends. It started out simple at first: getting coffee together, working on homework, and cursing that physics assignment you both had no clue how to finish.

Times like these made you realize how much of a fun person Jeongin was. There was never a dull moment around him yet despite his easygoing and fun nature, you noticed he preferred to keep to himself, only hanging out with his closest circle of friends. A category which you seemed to now fall under too.

Despite all your anxiousness about whether you were even “worthy” (as some would say) of being his friend, Jeongin always told you that he didn't care if you weren't labeled as popular by the rest of the student body.

“Y/N, we've had this conversation many times already. I really couldn't care less that you aren't a popular cheerleader and don't have Gucci bags,” he smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face, behind your ear.

“I know, I know. Sorry Jeongin, I know you aren't like that. I just get really anxious when those kids bury me with their gazes when I dare look at you.”

“Look, if anyone is bothering you, please tell me ok? I'll talk to them. I don't want you to suffer from being my friend,” he smiled, waving the waitress over to order for you guys.

“Don't worry, Jeongin. I promise I will,” you smiled, turning back to your physics workbook. The homework was on magnetic motors or something like that and you had no clue how to do it.

“Umm, do you know the answer to question three?” you asked, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Nope. I fell asleep during that class,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh come on. You can't do that. You should pay attention.”

“Like you paid any,” he pointed, taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Excuse me!” you gasped, “I did pay attention. I just didn't understand any of it. That's different.”

“Hmm. It sure is.”

Four

You were leaning over the sink in your bathroom, blood and flower petals splattered all over as you tried your best to get it all out of your throat. The petals were bright yellow. Sunflower petals.

How ironic, you thought. Sunflowers represented adoration, longevity, and pure thoughts. Just like how you felt towards Jeongin. And how he'd never feel towards you.

You bit back a sob as you choked on even more of the soft petals. In a sense, you were quite lucky - had you been coughing up any other flower (especially roses), it would probably hurt way more. But that still didn't mean that it wasn't painful. Your breath heaved as you tried your best to take deep breaths, your constricted lungs filled with petals, not exactly helping.

You have been suffering from the hanahaki disease for a few weeks now. You always thought it was a myth from the internet, never once have you expected to run to the bathroom at three am to hurl petals into the sink. It started slowly at first. You'd only cough out some petals and drops of blood, but it got progressively worse.

You'd have days that you wouldn't be able to even get out of bed with the exhaustion you felt. All you wanted to do was sleep and forget about the cute boy with dimples. But no, you could never be angry at Jeongin. He was an absolute sweetheart who was nothing but kind to everybody. You couldn't exactly blame him for being around other people. That's right, you didn't know if they were dating but he seemed to hang around this girl called Lia a lot recently, the one he was talking to months prior. They seemed to be good friends too, apparently knowing each other for years now. You tried your best to suppress the jealousy that was rising in you, along with the petals.

You quickly turned back to the sink, just in time for it to catch the new batch of bloodied petals. Even thinking about her made your heart ache and you absolutely despised yourself for that. Lia was nothing but a sweet girl that always smiled at you in the hallway and occasionally made small talk with you.

***

A week later you were walking down the corridor, looking for the vending machine. It seems like they recently moved it from its original location, in front of the lab. You turned around the corner, your eyes bulging out of your skull at what you saw.

Jeongin and Lia were hunched near the lockers, whispering and giggling at something. He said something, making the girl shake her head in denial as he arched his brow. You couldn't watch anymore, quickly running back and abandoning your original plan of finding the vending machine and instead, running to the bathroom. You slammed the door shut, flinging yourself over the toilet as you vomited heaps of the yellow petals, this time mixed with some green leaves and stems. This was by far the worst case, you have never thrown up green before.

You wiped your dry lips, attempting to take deep breaths and calm your heart. It was horrible what seeing the two together did to you. You couldn't believe you lost control like that only a few meters away from him. What would happen if he saw you?

You had to suppress it. He could never find out.

***

It was a truly painful day. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day and you could see all the stores decorated with pinks and reds, hearts everywhere, and signs welcoming couples with tempting discounts.

Your stomach did flips as you walked the path to the school door. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. You contemplated calling sick the next day and not going to school at all, but you had an important paper to hand in and the professor was especially grumpy and wanted it on his desk on that particular day.

You trudged up the steps with a frown, when you heard your name being called.

“Hey, Y/N,” Chan called after you, running up the stairs to catch up.

“Oh hey, Chan,” you mumbled, mustering up your best fake smile but he still managed to see through it.

“Is everything ok?” he asked, obviously concerned.

“Yeah, just a little tired,” you dismissed, leaving him and running towards your locker.

Good job Y/N, you groaned, now you can't even hang out with your other friends.

You spent the rest of the day avoiding the whole group, trying your best to overpower the need to throw up petals. You didn't want to repeat the previous incident in school. Jeongin must have by now noticed how distant you were. He probably thought you hated him by how you kept avoiding him for the past month.

He probably wanted to ask you to come to his game tomorrow which you sure as hell weren't planning to attend. On top of the fact that you could literally shower the whole stands with petals, it was also going to be Valentine's day and there was no telling if the boy was going to ask Lia out or something like that.

And your heart wouldn't be able to handle that.

You ran home after your last period. Your stomach growled at the lack of lunch but you figured it was better than running into one of them.

You stomped into the bathroom, not even taking off your shoes as you threw up into the bin. There was more blood today. There was no telling of what would happen tomorrow, the romantic atmosphere would probably only serve as a bitter reminder of your broken heart.

You wiped your lips, deciding that taking a shower would be in your best interest. After that, you sat by your desk and made some finishing touches to the essay due tomorrow.

Maybe you would just come to turn it in and then dip…

***

You woke up with a strangled cry, the dream you had still playing in your head. With a groan you slumped out of bed, ready to prepare for the day but to your horror, you realized that you overslept. You had approximately ten minutes before you had to leave.  You brushed your teeth, shoved some toast down your throat, and gathered your things. With a sense of urgency, you threw on jeans, a blouse, and some sneakers, not feeling like dressing up.

You had to leave immediately. Like now. You grabbed your backpack, quickly checking the essay was there, took your keys off the hook, and grabbed the first jacked you could find. It was dark blue (and very soft) meaning it would match almost anything you had on and since the weather was chilly, you wouldn't want to risk catching a cold.

Running out the door, you pulled it on and slung the backpack on your shoulder, running to the bus stop. Only then did you notice the engraved initials YJ on the sleeve and cursed yourself for bringing the wrong one. You would have taken it off right away if it wasn't for the blasting AC.

You stomped up the chairs, annoyance coursing through your veins. This day couldn't get any worse. Still thinking about leaving after handing in the assignment, you almost avoided going to your locker but remembered the jacket. You'd just drop it in and head to the professor's office.

You dug around for your keys until you finally found them in the bottom of your backpack. You slid it in the keyhole and opened the locker.

You were surprised by a giant teddy plushie and a box of chocolates. Your eyes widened in surprise before you heard a loud “surprise”.

Turning around, you were face to face with a grinning Jeongin. He stood over you with a large bouquet of beautiful sunflowers and the rest of the team, Lia, and Seungmin were all behind him cheering and throwing confetti.

To say that you were in shock would be a massive understatement. The look of utter confusion must have been plastered on your face as Jeongin smiled and handed you the bouquet.

“For me?”

He nodded slowly, examining your expression. You took the flowers from him, lowering your head to smell them.

“No one's ever given me something like this before,” you croaked, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

Jeongin nervously stood there before grabbing your hand and looking you in the eyes.

“Y/N, we've been friends for some time now but I wanted to ask you… Will you be my valentine?”

“Of course I will,” you whispered, almost jumping at him and swallowing him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I've liked you for some time now,” you admitted after a while, burying your head into his chest and enjoying the sudden way you seemed to breathe easier, not feeling the itchy petals in your throat anymore.

“Same here,” he laughed.

“Wait really? Since when?” you asked perplexed.

“Since I gave you my jacket,” he grinned, “I'm glad to see that you're making proper use of it.”

“Come on everybody, let's leave them alone,” Chan hollered, dragging everybody away to give you guys some privacy.

“I'm sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you for the past week. I was planning with Lia on how to do, how to do all of this, you know,” he pointed at all the gifts he got you.

“Thank you,” you smiled again, “I really appreciate it Jeongin.”

“Do you want to come to the game today? I'd introduce you to all my other friends.”

“I'd love to.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, his nose scrunching up before he looked at you and placed his hands on your waist.

You peered at him through your lashes as he slowly leaned down, pressing his plush lips to yours and sealing them into a kiss. You closed your eyes, leaning down to get even closer to him as you gripped his shirt for support. The kiss was short but sweet and you were startled apart by a loud wolf whistle.

You turned around, cheeks burning in embarrassment at Jisung doing kissy faces and Hyunjin laughing in the background. You almost jumped away and Jeongin just chuckled.

“The game starts two hours after school. Do you want to go on like a proper date before that?”

“Sure,” you smiled, “I should probably get going, I have to submit this essay,” you waved the piece of paper that counted for nearly half of your final grade for the quarter.

“Don't forget the flowers,” he pointed to the bouquet.

“About that, maybe I should leave it in my locker. You know - to not start anything,”

“Y/N,” he said with a serious tone, “I don't care what the others think. They'll know by the evening anyways.”

You were startled at first, but then realized that he was right. No more caring about what others thought about you.

Now it was just you and Jeongin. You liked the sound of that.

“Okay,” you smiled, picking up the flowers, “I'll meet you at two in front of the lockers.”

With a smile, you walked in the direction of your classroom. After weeks of pain and sorrow, you finally felt like everything fell into place.

***

a/n: aaaaaaah. idk why all my oneshots so far are for jeongin but nvm. hope you liked it. it couldn't resist the idea of soccer player jeongin ;)

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Alright so I've seen a lot of opinions floating around and now it's time to add my two cents: the show's Loki is both similar to and distinct from the Loki we remember, and that is, or at least can be, a good thing

We have this idea of the "Loki we know," and we're frustrated that he's not being adapted faithfully--and to a degree, this is correct. Marvel very intentionally chose 2012 Loki as the version to resurrect, because that is when Loki was at the height of his popularity. By doing this, they could get the fanbase that Loki has always had to watch the show, while also avoiding much of the character distortion that came after TDW. A great idea! But then, instead of bringing this character into the show and authentically representing him, they smashed him up with Ragnarok Loki's portrayal. This was mostly done to engage general viewers and to maintain a slightly lighter tone, but both of these are mistakes: first of all, the general viewership has never been Loki's core, active fanbase. But I get it--you want to make money. The second, more egregious mistake, is that you absolutely could have kept a lighter tone with 2012's Loki, and then easily adapted him from there. At the end of Avengers, he's making jokes, and we see even more of these in Endgame. That's humor that's authentic to the character, and doesn't feel disrespectful like Ragnarok was. When we see the Ragnarok style of humor popping up, we immediately get defensive because of how that movie treated him, and we say, "This isn't the Loki we know." But the Loki we know is, to a degree...wrong.

This might seem a bit harsh at first, but I think the fandom as a whole is unwilling to let go of a slightly distorted version of Loki, and that's coloring the fan response to the show. Because we've spent so long with a character that has had relatively few instances of development or even screen time, we've become attached to the version of the character we think we know, sometimes without realizing that collective memory has shifted our perception of him slightly. We're unwilling to let the character change at all, even if at points this growth could be done well--and even if the character was faithfully adapted, he would be met with criticism because he wouldn't be "what we know"; he couldn't be, because we as a fandom created that character, over time and without really recognizing it. To a degree, that kind of misplaced criticism is mixing with the legitimate critiques of the series. It makes us unwilling to look at the good things that are present, even among the flaws.

As an example, let's talk about Loki as a planner, and how his actions in the series compare to those in the earlier movies. A common sentiment I've heard is that throughout episode two (and to a degree, episode one) Loki is just kind of going along with everything. He doesn't seem to have a plan, and this makes people uncomfortable, since the "Loki we know" was a great planner. Wasn't he?

Most of the basis for the "Loki we know," comes from Thor and Thor: the Dark World, so I'll be using those as my "proof texts," so to speak. In those two movies, we see plenty of examples of Loki making spur-of-the-moment decisions to take advantage of a situation; he's a very flexible, adaptable character by nature (as I've discussed before), so this makes sense. The trouble is, I think the fandom memory of Loki has shifted enough that we forget exactly why and how he makes these decisions, and how they turn out. In contrast to what those films actually show us, we tend to think of Loki as a very strategic character, who is too clever to be caught off-guard. That's not the case.

Loki, in those films, has very little grasp or consideration of the consequences of his actions, because his emotions cloud his judgement; because of this, his plans (which are created responsively), and even actions he does not plan, fall apart disastrously. In Thor, when Thor is banished from Asgard, Loki sees an opportunity to step into the role his brother had filled. Then he discovers he is actually Laufey's son, and in response to this news and Odin's falling into Odinsleep, Loki plans to double-cross Laufey and kill him to prove his loyalty, taking the throne in the interim. He does have a plan, but it's one that he developed rather spontaneously based on the circumstances--he didn't plan for Odin to fall asleep so that he could assume the throne, that just...happened, and Loki forms a plan to adapt to it. But when he hears that Thor is trying to return to Asgard, all of his insecurities, compounded by having just discovered that he's actually a Jotun, come back full force; desperate to keep the small bit of identity he thinks he's managed to find, Loki sends an Automaton to kill Thor--whom he loves, and has even said so several times in the film--and then tries to destroy the Bifrost to keep Thor from coming back. These are decisions Loki hasn't truly evaluated; if he had, he wouldn't have made them, because they don't line up with his actual goal, as we see when Thor arrives. When Thor confronts him, Loki essentially has a breakdown, admitting in tears that his real motivation for all of this was just to be considered Thor's equal. He didn't hate Thor, he didn't hate Odin, he didn't even want to be king--he just wanted to be loved as much as his brother. But along the way, his real goal was clouded by his emotional state, and he stopped thinking clearly, instead just lashing out in a desperate bid to protect himself from more pain.

We see something similar occur in Thor: TDW. When Loki sends the guards "up the stairs to the left," he's not thinking about who they might find--he's just lashing out because he's been abandoned by his family, and he wants to exert whatever influence he can over the situation. He wants to do something, especially if it causes problems for Odin and Thor, and he thinks the opportunity has just landed in his lap. He hardly planned for it, but he's not going to pass it up. So he takes it unhesitatingly--and his mother dies. (Coincidentally, after both his father's rejection and his mother's death, Loki nearly dies himself, and at least one of those instances was deliberate. Hmmm...Loki doesn't want to live with the consequences of his actions? It's too painful for him to face what he's done?? Hmm??? But that's beside the point.) Once again, Loki's goals are unclear, and things go wrong because he's just acting on emotion.

All this to say, for Loki, plans are very flexible things that are basically defined as "whatever works best to get what I want," so to say that Loki is just going along with things in the series, and is thus out-of-character, is a bit of an unfair criticism; despite our misremembering, he is, as he's always done, very much acting as a reactive planner. As I've spelled out before, when Loki is thrown into the new environment of the TVA, he immediately starts gathering information, and shaping his responses based off of what he finds. He takes the chances he has to feel things out (at the Renaissance fair, for example), but mostly he bides his time and actively observes until an opportunity arises. This is standard for him, but viewers haven't really been receptive to it, because it isn't what we're expecting.

Now, Loki claims to have a larger plan (something that we think we remember being common), but that's not actually the case. When speaking to Lady Loki/(Enchantress??), he says his ultimate goal is to overthrow the TVA--but he also framed his supposed overall plan as "get an audience with the Time Keepers" when speaking to Mobius. Neither of these are true. In order to more effectively manipulate others, he pretends to have large-scale motivations: with Lady Loki/Enchantress, he knows she will likely only respect him if he claims to have an endgame, since she so clearly does herself, so he manufactures one she likely wouldn't oppose. Mobius, on the other hand, would likely be suspicious without the red-herring Loki throws him; since Mobius believes Loki's trying to get an audience with the Time Keepers, he doesn't become suspicious about how quickly Loki becomes eager to catch the other variant, which would otherwise have been an appropriately huge red flag. But these are just misdirections, further things that Loki is doing to keep himself in the best position possible. That's why his claims of a grand plan (particularly to Lady Loki/Enchantress) sound sudden or unrealistic: they are. But because we think we remember Loki being someone who would have a larger plan, we aren't able to see that he doesn't need to.

This time, unlike in Thor and TDW, Loki's immediate goals are clear: escape the TVA. Be free. Despite Mobius' attempts to get him into a hyper-emotional, and thus, less careful, state of mind, Loki keeps his wits about him. He's intentional with his decisions. He's not lashing out. For once, he's aware of and considers the consequences of his actions--we see him weighing the options as he stands in front of the portal--and he makes the right decisions because his goal is clear in his mind. And this makes all the difference. Loki plays the game expertly, and for the first time, he wins--he escapes.

And I think this is an excellent development, one that deserves more appreciation than we're giving it. It's a good thing that he's not behaving how we think we remember him, as some master planner--that would be being unfaithful to his character. Loki isn't the same as Lady Loki/Enchantress. He doesn't have a grand plan. He just, finally, knows what he really wants. That shows growth, and that is the kind of change we have to want to see, and be willing to accept; so in that regard, it's even good that this Loki is different than he actually was. The Loki we see in Thor and TDW is a highly emotional, and very broken, character, who reacts to his environment often without thinking of the potential consequences; the Loki we're being shown here is still emotional, still clearly affected by what he's gone through, but is now able--or is now being allowed!--to demonstrate his actual capabilities. He ACTUALLY GETS WHAT HE WANTS. That's the first time that's happened, the first time his attempts to protect himself or outsmart someone have actually ended in success instead of disaster. And that's exactly what you should do with a character.

Now, a valid quibble with Loki's characterization is that these things are not obvious, and that is a very legitimate criticism. It's hard to see that Loki is manipulating Mobius by pretending to be helpful, because the show seems to be framing it in a way that encourages us to take Loki at face value. Loki's behavior is an intentional obfuscation, but it can be hard to realize that if it seems like that's what the show is telling us Loki really is. Personally, I justify this by saying that the show is showing us Loki as he wants to be perceived--when Loki is bluffing in episode one, he seems cartoonish and over the top, but certainly nothing like he actually is, and this is what he intends. When he seems too jovial and trusting in episode two, that's because that's what he's presenting to Mobius. It's about whether we buy into the act as much as the other characters do--which is why Loki's most in-character scenes come when he's alone. When he has no one to perform for, he stops performing for us, too, and we see the genuine presentation. But, I could be wrong--maybe this isn't intentional at all. Maybe the writers really are just trying to revamp a character from 2012 and are doing it clumsily, and that's why he seems out of character in moments like those. It's too early to say, and honestly, we may never be sure.

But there are real, valid, and undeniable moments of positive development, the likes of which Loki has never had the space to experience before. They are present if you are willing to look--but they are much less obvious to people who don't want to see them. I agree, they are hard to see, and if I'm being honest, I haven't loved the show anywhere near as much as I would have liked to so far. But I think the fandom as a whole is so caught up in this idea of the "Loki we know" that they don't see the Loki we have for what he is--people are too attached to a misremembering of Loki's previous actions to realize that the change in his behavior isn't a regression or a flaw in his writing but a sign of growth. We're too attached to his brokenness and weakness to let him become strong.

We are defensive about Loki's character because of how it's been mishandled in the past, but if you actually look, you'll find that there is actually a lot of good in what we're being given. I'd agree that the show has to get better about making that obvious if it wants to succeed. But I think some of the harsh criticism the show has been receiving is unwarranted. It might not be perfect, and some of these decisions on the parts of the writers might not be intentional, but Loki has always been a character we've had to think about in order to understand him. Just like this show, there is much good about him beneath the surface. And for as much trouble as it causes sometimes--I'm glad that isn't changing.

[lovelyshawnn]

Sick Little Games

George Weasley x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader

Y/N and Draco were known as the ultimate slytherin duo. When she catches him in the act of infidelity, she makes it a goal to hurt him back as much as he hurt her. What starts as nothing but a sick little game, turns into something more with another red headed boy.

“what would malfoy think if he knew i was fucking his girl right now?” george grunted in my ear, hips thrusting into mine while my back was pressed against the prefect bathroom’s cold stone wall. my legs were wrapped around his waist, sultry moans tumbling out of my mouth as he fucked me senseless. his words only intensified the pleasure as i gripped on to his biceps for support. he could feel my wet pussy clenching around his throbbing cock, signfying that i was close to coming.

“what would your little boyfriend think if he knew how well you take my cum?” i let out a whimper as his thick cock hit my gspot, making my vision go completely white. “fuck y/n,” he grunted as his pace quickened. i let out a string of curse words, toes curling in pleasure as he rubbed my clit with his long slender fingers as we reached our orgasms together.

his movements slowed and eventually halted, cock still balls deep in me as he placed loving kisses all over my face. he slowly released me from his hold, planting my feet back on the ground before completely removing himself from me. with our chests still heaving, we transitioned from standing by the bathroom’s windows, to the warm bubbly bath. this was common thing for us, so naturally we were able to establish a routine. sneaking out of the dorms late at night to see each other, satisfying our thirsts for each other before taking a dip in the bath to relax and cleanse ourselves of our sins.

george’s hands worked its way down my neck and shoulders, rubbing out any knots while he gave me little pecks on my forehead. i smiled my first genuine smile of the day. i was constantly dragging myself throughout the day, in and out of my classes, plastering a fake smile until the clock struck a certain time at night where i would meet up with george. “so why are you still with that git anyways?”

i rolled my eyes at his choice of words. i considered not even replying at all, but one glance at his concentrated face with that accusational eyebrow raise, and i knew this was something he wasnt going to drop again.

“he loves me,” i sighed, shrugging my shoulders.

“he loves you? is that why you caught him fucking pansy parkinson in the forbidden section of the library?” georges hostile tone rang in my ears.

it was supposed to be our date night. draco knew how stressed i had been with all our recent exams, and how much i needed a break. my sweet, loving boyfriend of almost 2 years proposed we have a date night full of snuggles and snacks to relieve my stress. after getting dolled up and waiting in our slytherin common room for over an hour, i came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to show up.

the silly thing was, i really tried to make excuses for him. blaise had strolled past on his way up to his dorm and asked why i was sitting there all alone. “just waiting on draco,” id say passively, in which he’d give me a pitiful smile before heading up. i thought, maybe he just got caught up on some of his prefect duties. or maybe he took a nap and overslept. or maybe he even got detention for the day, but he would never forget about me, right? surely he couldn’t forget about his own plans that he made.

i’d grown tired of sitting there all alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. so i grabbed my book bag and decided to head to the library to get a head start on some homework. walking deeper and deeper into the dark library, thats when i heard it. the faint gasps and moans coming from a high pitched female voice. “ugh,” i thought, “who wouldn’t even have the decency to go to a private spot?”

i rounded the corner, my eyes almost bulging out of my skull as i took in the sight in front of me. a bright platinum head of hair stuffed into the crook of pansy parkinsons neck, as he fucked her on one of the library desks with her skirt hitched all the way up. they had been so into it that they didnt even see me. what gave it away was some stupid lamp falling over as i rushed out of the library, tears in my eyes. athough they stopped at the sound indicating someone was there, they never knew it was me.

my vision was blurry, tears streaming faster down my cheeks as i ran away. i wasnt sure where i was going, but i knew i had to be as far away as possible from that complete and utter asshole. from the second i saw him til now, a million feelings coursed through my body. i was devastated, devastated that the man i loved for 2 whole years had been lying to my face. how long was he unloyal for? was this the first time? these unanswered questions made me transition from grief to rage. i was infuriated that he took me as some kind of fool who would never find out about his cheating ways. i had been so caught up in my emotions that i didnt notice where i was going, smacking face first into a very toned chest.

“Woah! Y/N? You alright there, love?” George’s voice was impossible not to recognize. “Oh, I-I’m sorry,” I gasped before turning around to leave. His warm hand clasped around my wrist softly, tugging me back as one of his hands lifted my chin up so that he could inspect my face, and most importantly my blood shot eyes.

“You’re crying,” his voice was a lot softer than i’ve ever heard it before. with him being a gryffindor and me being a slytherin, i was used to the rude remarks he’d yell at us in the hallways. him and his lovely twin have always made my life here at hogwarts a living hell. as of recently, he went from constant bullying to the exact opposite. he was always throwing complements my way as loud and obnoxious as possible. and i knew he did it just to get a rise out of his most hated slytherin of all, draco. draco was always a possesive boyfriend, not wanting any guys to look at me. but having a weasley complement me out of everyone else would’ve drove him absolutely mad.

however, what started out as an excuse to piss off draco, had turned into something else. george couldn’t help but notice how my eyes were a lot browner than he remembered, a certain twinkle in them whenever i got excited talking to my housemates about something. he quickly found himself feeling jealous as malfoy walked through the halls with his arm around my shoulder.

of course, i was oblivious to all of this, which would’ve explained his soft tone. “I’m fine,” I sniffled, wiping my tears off with the sleeve of my sweater and avoiding direct eye contact. “Come with me,” he wasted no time, dragging me down the corridor before i could mutter a response. he led me to the prefect bathroom, opening the doors for me as i took in the beautiful mosaics.

“how did you even get the password?” i asked suspiciously to the troublesome boy.

he shrugged, “turned percy’s hair blue and wouldnt change it back until he’d tell me,”

i let out a snort, which i was quick to cover with a cough. only he could make me genuinely laugh after figuring out the man i had loved so deeply, didnt love me back enough to keep his dick in his pants. i turned away from his gaze, but he saw it. he took pride in being able to cause that gorgeous smile, but he was nice enough to not tease me about it tonight. he’d definitely bring it up another day, though.

“so, whats wrong?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the porcelain sinks. i let out a sigh, debating on whether i should tell him at all. he was supposed to be our rival, afterall.

“draco cheated,” i stated. georges face softened, all traces of humor dissipating into thin air. “i’m sorry y/n,” he started, “that bloke doesn’t know what he’s got.”

for the first time that night, i looked up at him and saw the look he had in his eyes. the lingering gaze around my figure, the softness in his facial features, the way his eyes bored into mine with a sense of longing.

that was when a lightbulb when off in my head. ill admit that im not proud of what my next thought was, and it was definitely one of the most slytherin things i have ever done, but it was worth it. i wanted to hurt draco. i wanted him to feel as bad as i did, and i wanted revenge.

i strode over to his leaning frame, making it a point to swing my hips in the process. my lips formed a pout as i spoke to him in a low voice. “if he doesn’t know what hes got,” i trailed my fingers from his shoulders down to his chest, “who will?”

my lips got incredibly closer to the shell of his ear. “you?” i asked, cupping his buldge with my hand. he let out a barely audible whimper, eyes staring back at me like a deer in headlights.

i left a gentle kiss on his neck, “tell me if you want me to stop.” george shut his eyes for a split second, contemplating his morals. he weighed his options and outcomes. on one hand, he’d be able to piss off that spoiled brat malfoy, which would give him enough satisfaction to last him the rest of his life. on the other hand, he’d finally get to know what the taste of his crush’s lips were like. it was a win win situation. fuck it, he thought before closing the gap between us, lips moving in sync as the kiss became increasingly passionate. his hands roamed all over my body as i ran my fingers through his hair.

it was an amazing night, full of multiple orgasms that left me struggling to walk properly. george was certainly thicker than malfoy. the day after was when the feelings of sadness, regret, and confusion came sinking in. as soon as i woke up and left my dorm, there he was. in his perfect green uniform that perfectly matched his perfect porcelain skin. dracos head was held high, not a care in the world as it was obvious he completely forgot about our date night and had no idea i caught him and pansy red handed.

i walked past him, not even batting an eye in his direction as i made my way to the great hall. “y/n!” he called out, quickly catching up to me, “whats wrong?”

i rolled my eyes, “you forgot our date.” his eyes immediately widened as he realized his mistake, cheeks blushing like a tomato as he recalled where he was instead of the date. “darling, please forgive me. i’m so sorry, i just got caught up in my studi-“

i halted my steps, not wanting to listen to his bullshit excuse, “i forgive you.” he looked at me with bewilderment, “y-you forgive me?”

“of course,” i gave him the most convincingly sweet smile, “its not a big deal at all!”

his shoulders relaxed in relief at my words. oh, what a stupid boy. what a stupid, stupid boy. the only reason i was “forgiving him” was because i was going to hurt him back, a lot worse. he held my hand in his as we continued our stroll to the great hall, him lifting my hand up to plant a kiss on my knuckles.

right when he had done that, i locked eyes with a familiar red head from across the corridor. he smirked as he watched me, noticing the way my steps were slightly different than normal. it was the same shit eating smile he wore last night as he made me reach my 3rd orgasm, face buried between my legs and licking up my juices as if his life depended on it. i bit my lip as the flashback played in my head, instantly making me feel lightheaded again.

draco and i took our usual spots at the slytherin table, everything seemingly normal until the owls arrived. a letter had been dropped into my lap.

unravelling the parchment, there was a faint message scribbled across in black ink. “same time and place tonight?”

there was no name or any indication of identity, but i knew exactly who it was. luckily from where i was sitting at the table, i had a clear view of george. as i looked up from the letter, i instantly made eye contact with him, him giving me a sly wink before regurning to eat his mashed potatoes. he didnt need an answer, he knew id come back after the night we had togegher.

“whos that letter from?” a voice snapped me out of my haze. i jumped slightly before tucking the letter safely into my robe, “oh, it was just mum.”

“whatd she say?” draco questioned, slightly suspicious as he recognized me hiding the letter.

“she asked how you were, shes having dinner with your parents this weekend,” i said while gulping down my goblet of juice. draco seemed convinced at that answer, dropping his suspicions rather quickly, “oh thats right, mother was telling me about that.”

it was ironic, really. we were seen as the picture perfect duo. the slytherin prince with none other than his slytherin princess. we had the world in our hands, both coming from wealthy pureblood families. even our parents were over the moon at the news of our relationship blossoming, instantly talking about our plans for marriage in the future. but were we willing to throw that all away for these sick little games?

hi guys i know i usually write shawn fics but ive been into hp recently and wanted to give it a try! if u guys rlly like this one, id love to make a part 2 n finish the series (: pls lmk and give feedback! 🤍

[dragontamer-nia]

Max [Parental figures and fighting spirits]

Max and Judy Mizuhara 

Max Mizuhara is the child of two very different people. 

On one hand, we have Taro Mizuhara: a cheerful and friendly man who lives a simple life, owns a little hobby shop, and has taken a passion for a kids' game which requires a certain degree of technical knowledge. He's basically a mechanic, he has a rather small but very functional training ground in the basement of his shop, and he encourages Max to do his best, but most importantly to have fun with his friends. 

On the other hand, we have Judy Mizuhara: an ambitious, strong-willed woman, whose research and abilities have made her rise from the already prestigious position of university professor to the director of the most important and reputable research centre for beyblades, where she has all the resources, funds and technology she could ever need to work with at her disposal. We know the PPB is held in such high regard that her role requires her to answer directly to the goddamn Secretary of State. 

And… Taro and Judy love Max. However, while all we can gather about Taro's opinion on this whole "taking beyblade seriously and winning the world championship" thing is that he supports Max because he wants to see him happy, we know exactly what Judy thinks. 

She thinks Max doesn't have what it takes to be a champion. 

Max's crisis is, in a way, the opposite of Rei's: while Rei at one point already had everyone believing in him, and had to prove that the his actions are atypical but ultimately right, Max has to prove that he is worth believing in because the way he is is right; and that his fighting spirit is just as tough and resilient as everyone else's in this field, if not even more so than most, but his friendly, kind and bubbly personality throws people off. 

And the fact that, of all people, it's his own mother who rejects him almost crushes him. Judy loved him when he was just her fun, adorable child, but when he dared try and assert himself as a person with dreams and a fighting spirit, suddenly she turns her back on him. 

Worse yet, Judy has new children in America. Kids she personally chose as the best in the whole US. Kids who lived and breathed to follow whatever she said. Kids who are very explicitly competitive, who are sports prodigies and know it, who parade around wearing their sports' uniform like a badge of honour, knowing that they're just so much better than anyone else that they're backed up by the effin government... and people love them. They are stars, they are heroes. And so, people shower the All Starz with admiration and attention, and the All Starz love the glory Judy has granted them, and Judy loves them in return and supports them. 

Of course, not only has Max to deal with whatever is going on with his mother's behaviour, not only has he to endure his mom's new, arrogant kids, he also has to face their feelings of jealousy: after all, he is the coach's actual son. And he's a nobody. This is Max, the son of their beloved coach? He's weak, right? Not a trace of ambition, no competitiveness at all, only smiles and "lEt'S bE NiCe tO eAcH oThEr". Why does Judy love this guy? 

Poor Max is having the worst time of his life as the finals for the A block approach, and the night before the finals Kyouju bluntly tells him that he shouldn't fight at all in the coming matches. "They have your data," he says. "They don't have Kai's data," they all say. Max knows what's up: his own team is starting to believe in the All Starz, they are starting to lose faith in him too. What is his team thinking? Would the PPB not have taken his data, had he been stronger, had he been like Kai? They, his own team, his friends, think that even giving Max a mere chance at proving them all wrong would jeopardize their chances of reaching the world's finals, and they’re not willing to take that risk. 

Max is not the type to lash out at people and impose his own world view onto others, as Takao would, but he knows this is an injustice, he knows he doesn't deserve this treatment. Max storms off, leaving the rest of the team appalled: clearly, no one expected nice, friendly Max to react so strongly. They do eventually change their minds after the team finally understands just how badly he needs to. 

Because, after running on the roof of the hotel to get a bit of fresh air… Max finds his mother there. 

Judy thinks she's being objective, because that's what she's used to as a scientist: research is based on numbers, and numbers tell her that Max truly doesn't have a chance. But she's also a professional, and the spot she was put into requires her to not help her own son at all. She can do absolutely nothing but accept that Max is bound to lose, and Max has got to understand this as soon as possible.

Judy knows what it takes to rise to the top, because she has done it. Cold and merciless, ambitious and strong-willed, tough and resilient: she is a champion, in her own way. And she didn’t obtain the most prestigiuos position in her field by being nice; this is why, when choosing the players who would represent the US in the world tournament, she selected kids with a competitive background, who are capable of being cold and merciless when required. And now that her own son is competing against the PPB, a big machine that receives all the funding they need, a whole building full with equipment and any machine they could possibly think of to study their opponents, gather data, prepare a strategy, keep their bladers in top condition… she doesn’t want Max to even try and enter this ruthless race to the top. He is nice, and she accepts it and loves him for it, but... he’s too nice to survive in this world.

I think Judy is the one who chose this role for herself. She knows Taro. She knows she has to be the realistic and disillusioned parent to balance him out, because Taro is just so carefree and happy, with no trace of ambition or fighting spirit, and Max is just like Taro. 

Except… 

This is why the necklace is important. 

Max's fighting spirit doesn't just derive from the fact that he wants to prove his own progresses to Judy. He quite literally inherited his mother's fighting spirit. Max is just as ambitious and strong-willed, Max is just as tough and resilient. Who decided that someone cocky like Michael, or cold and merciless like Judy, is clearly inherently stronger than someone like Max? Max is having none of this shit, and he's having none of this shit as nicely as he can, because he will not bend: Max is not worth believing in even though he's nice and friendly; Max is worth believing in because he's nice and friendly, and it's perfectly fine, thank you. 

And Max proves that Judy was wrong about him, he proves that everyone was wrong about him, and the moment he does, the moment he finally wins against Michael and secures the path to the finals… 

He's just happy. 

At this point, Max would have every reason to brag. He'd be justified to take the spotlight, flip the bird to the All Starz - the kids who really thought the BBA guys were just a bunch of noobs - and laugh right at their dumbstruck faces. 

But the thought of doing so doesn't even cross his mind. He smiles and he's happy, and his team is happy for him, and they all celebrate the fact that Max has won. 

On the other side of the stadium, Judy is forced to face a hard truth that she, deep down, had always known: there's no number understandable by a computer that can describe how fucking stubborn and creative the both of them can become to reach the goals they have set for themselves. 

As she smiles at her own blindness, she walks to Max to congratulate him, and as Judy recognizes and owns her mistake, Max simply smiles and lets it all go, water under the bridge. Because that's who Max is.

The fact that, at some point, someone in the production crew decided to include Kyouju openly glaring at Judy in this fundamental shot is very telling in my opinion LOL

[jaegereism]

𝙆𝘼𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙆𝙄 𝘽𝘼𝙆𝙐𝙂𝙊 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝘼𝙇𝙔𝙎𝙄𝙎

MBTI type: ESTP

Dominant-Se

Katsuki has quick reflexes and is in tune with his immediate environment. He often relies on physical force to achieve his ends, such as physically threatening Midoriya to tell him the truth about his secret quirk and planning to beat up the “boss” child when required to babysit some difficult children. He is able to think on the move, like he did when fighting Tokoyami in the sports festival. He attacked him over and over again to discover his weakness and used it to his own advantage. He has a rather adaptable approach when fighting against different opponents. He changes his fighting style according to his opponents when needed, such as successfully avoiding getting touched by Uraraka when fighting against her in the sports festival. He is also skilled in observing while taking action and does not easily get startled when his opponents are unpredictable. Katsuki does not backs up from physical challenges and seem to actually enjoy them. He challenged Todoroki to use all his powers against him despite the possibility of losing against him because of that. He enjoys earning victory with his blood and sweat.

Katsuki prefers to establish his statements with his actions. He is not easily effected by words. He does not believes in bark with no bite, and is quick to challenge those individuals to prove their statements by their actions. “Show us with your actions, not your mouth.” He told Shishikura when he was trying to degrade the Yuuei students and allude that students from Shiketsu High are somewhat better than those from Yueei. Katsuki is seen acting very impatient when he wants something. He uses his physicality in order to prove a point, whether by fighting, yelling or aggressive body language.

Auxiliary-Ti

Katsuki has an internal framework about how the world works. He conceptualizes the world around him in fixed categories. Such as, you should not even attempt to be a hero if you do not have a quirk. He expressed annoyance in season 1 when Midoriya did not went by his personal framework and attempted to get accepted in Yuuei without a quirk. It took him a while to accept that Midoriya had a quirk despite him showing obvious signs of having it. He said to Iida that Midoriya will have to leave Yuuei soon because he is “a quirkless loser”, to which Iida replied “He has a quirk. Did you not heard what he did in the entrance exam?” Katsuki is unable to accept the obvious because he does not believe in quirks popping up out of the blue. Once he even accepts that Midoriya has a quirk, he ends up assuming that he had always had it and kept it hidden from him. Katsuki does not appreciate having truth kept from him and keeps on investigating until he finds an explanation that makes sense.

Once he discovered that quirks can be stolen when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains, it made sense to him that quirks can be borrowed too. It made him believe that Midoriya actually had his quirk borrowed from someone else. Once he had gathered all the data he believed he needed, he was very confident in his theory about Midoriya having his quirk from All Might and pressured Midoriya to admit it to him. Katsuki analyzes the way people’s quirks effect their body rather accurately. An example is him assuming Todoroki to be a video game character in order to get an insight of the way his quirk effects his body.

Tertiary-Fe

Katsuki’s tertiary function is not very healthy, especially at the beginning of the show. He picks up on others’ insecurities and knows how to make them feel better or worse. He bullied- and shamed Midoriya publicly by saying that he is not good enough to be a hero. He does not concern himself with forming relationships with people. Anyone who fails to catch his attention is treated as an “extra” and all his friendships are initiated from the other party. He finds little importance in sensitive topics, such as bluntly stating that he does not care about Todoroki’s family issues. All the shortcomings in his hero-performance are because of his lack of tact. In later seasons, he is seen using his tertiary function in healthier ways. He did not shamed- or ignored Kirishima’s feelings when he expressed his insecurity about not being strong like his classmates. Katsuki actually took the time to listen to him- and tell him that he is strong enough because of his courage.

Katsuki was also very upset by the idea of Midoriya tricking him into believing that he was quirkless. He even accused Midoriya of laughing behind his back when he bullied him. Katsuki is rather expressive with his emotions, but he mostly expresses all his emotions as the two he is most familiar with, anger and pride. His outburst at the end of the season 3 was a demonstration of Fe-Se loop. “All Might knows it was my fault but hasn’t said anything. Everyone has to know, though! I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like it’s constantly playing on loop! So what the hell am I supposed to do?!” He suddenly became extremely sensitive to how others perceive him and accused everyone of blaming him, when no one actually was. He saw his own guilt in the eyes of others. He also felt the need to vent his emotions by using violence because of his dominant-Se.

Inferior-Ni

Katsuki lacks restraints and often forgets to pay attention to the way his actions are adding up for the long run. He treated civilians tactlessly in the hero license exam, which ultimately led to his failure. He often looses himself in the moment. He was so caught up in beating up Midoriya to show his superiority in their first battle together, that he ended up losing because of not considering other important factors. Katsuki has had one goal since childhood and he is devoted to it. He is guided by the vision to become the “number 1 hero” and expresses frustration towards any obstacles that come in his way. He is confident about his gut-instincts about people’s intentions and motivations. “What you’re saying does not match the look in your eyes.” He bluntly stated without any doubt. He recognized the other Yuuei classes’ “demonstration of war” regarding the sports festival against Class 1A quicker than his classmates. He is able to pick up on hidden meanings and symbols, like when All Might said “It’s your turn” while pointing towards the camera, and Katsuki understood that he was referring to Midoriya.

Katsuki was not inclined to look at the big picture in the beginning of the series, but he slowly learned it. “If all you do is look down on people, you won’t be able to recognize your own weaknesses.” He gave that advice when babysitting a child.

Enneagram: 8w7

Tritype: 837 The Mover Shaker

Katsuki wants to be self-reliant and prove his strength to the world like a typical 8. He takes pride in not easily being afraid, and refuses to show vulnerability even in the situations he finds himself to be startled. His 7-wing makes him constantly search for the next challenge to win. He loves challenges to the point that he is willing to gamble on his victory for its sake, such as asking Todoroki to use his fire on him during their battle in the sports festival. Katsuki does not only want to win, he wants his opponents to know that they are weaker than him. Unfortunately, Katsuki was not the healthiest 8 in the beginning of the show. He was extremely swaggering and ego-centric, wanting everyone to be behind him and not considering anyone his equal. Katsuki was the “boss kid” in middle school and imposed his visions about quirkless people on Midoriya.

Katsuki denies vulnerability in favor of maintaining his independence. He does not like appearing weak, to the point that he was deeply infuriated when Midoriya expressed concern for him as a child. He hates feeling like a fool, which he certainly did when he assumed that Midoriya had a quirk all along but kept it hidden from him. It seems like Katsuki’s obsessive competition with Midoriya stems from a desire of reestablishing his power over him. Katsuki is competitive with all his peers, but his competition with Midoriya is on a deeper level. His strong 3-fix makes him addicted to victory, perfectionistic, hard-working, and hard on himself when facing failure. However, he refuses to shape himself into something that fits society’s standards of a desirable hero in order to be successful. He speaks his mind freely without any fear of judgment. His 7-fix + 7 wing makes him impulsive, expressive, and always ready to jump into action.

[kalinara]

Dream Show 2.0

It’s time for the second annual “Dream Show Challenge”!

The rules are a little different this year: we were given someone else’s dreamshow cast from last year and asked to make a new show.

Since it’s very possible to end up with a cast list full of names we don’t recognize, we were allowed one trade.

This is my cast:

Jeff Goldblum, Jennifer Connelly, Alan Tudyk, Mandip Gil, Lee Pace, Elliot Page, and Matt Berry.

Since at the time I started this, I had no idea who Matt Berry was, I decided to trade him out for a different white British comedian: Jack Whitehall.

So now I present to you:

The Gates of Kallipolis

Synopsis:  When Lydia Nowlan receives an invitation from her estranged uncle, she has no idea what to expect.  She had no idea that she had an uncle.  And she certainly had no idea that he had invented a working time machine.  

But Dr. Nowlan called her for a reason.  Time is behaving strangely, and there are people scattered through time who need their help to get home.

Characters:

Lydia Nowlan - Jennifer Connelly (2021 CE): For as long as she remembers, Lydia Nowlan never had much in the way of a life.  She worked, she slept, and she worked again  She had no time for things like friends or family, even pets.  But now her work is completed and she has no idea what to do next.  Fortunately, a mysterious letter from a long lost uncle comes at just the right time.

Dr. Mark Nowlan - Jeff Goldblum (2021 CE):  Lydia’s estranged uncle.  An experienced time traveler with a temperament that makes Lydia look like a people person, Dr. Nowlan is in over his head.  But fortunately, he’s not in this alone anymore.

Bibi Khunza - Mandip Gil (c. 1550 CE):  Widow of a king, mother to another, Bibi Khunza knows how to fight and how to rule.  But as to how this sixteenth century Indian warrior princess ended up at the center of a witchhunt in seventeenth century rural England is a really interesting question.  Especially since she’s not the only one lost.

Augustus Cole - Elliot Page (1875 CE):  The life of a chimney sweep in Victorian London is a hard one, but Augustus Cole knows exactly how to translate those skills to something a bit more lucrative: cat burglary.  And never let it be said that the man will miss an opportunity: a futuristic sailing ship is the perfect place for a bit of breaking and entering.  But what’s that about an iceberg?

Xavion Knox - Lee Pace (2320 CE):  Grown in a lab, built for war, Xavion Knox has known very little except violence.  He hasn’t cared much about anything since the death of his partner, but perhaps that will change now that the man’s stuck in the distant past, reliant on a couple of barely competent time travelers to get home.  Wherever that is.

Zeta-5 - Jack Whitehall (2440 CE): An Alien.  Zeta knows his science.  He knows his technology.  He knows the intellectual capability of humanity, and he damn well knows that time travel is impossible.  But try telling that to Mark and Lydia Nowlan.  (He has.  Many times.)

Grok - Alan Tudyk (c. 190,000 BCE):  The manservant of Dr. Nowlan, and human being who predates any recognizable culture or society.  He may even predate the development of spoken language, or at least any language that the translator can recognize.  Because of his communication difficulties, he has yet to provide Dr. Nowlan with sufficient information to get him home.  He seems happy enough where he is, and well, good help is hard to find.

--

Important Concepts for the Show:

The Reese-Hartnell Effect:  It is impossible for a living being to be in two places at once.  Because of this, it is very important that a time traveler never “cross their time stream”, meaning they should never visit a time when they themselves are alive.  If at any point, a time traveler ends up in the same time period as their past or future self, they will merge together.  

In the best case scenario, the knowledge and memories of the future self will remain with the past self, allowing the time traveler to make any desired changes to his own future.

In the worst case scenario, the time traveler’s mind is completely obliterated.

The Ultimate Translator: Lydia Nowlan’s life work.  The great translator is somehow able to take spoken language from any point in time and enable it to be understood by any time traveler in the vicinity.  Because of his origins, Grok is unable to use the translator.  Instead, he communicates through gestures, pictures, expressions, and occasional broken English.

Origin Time: In order to return a lost time traveler, the machine must be calibrated with the exact time and place that the traveler disappeared from, down to the nanosecond.  Too soon, and the time traveler risks the Reese-Hartnell effect destroying their mind.  Too late, and the resulting gap of “non-existence” could create catastrophic effects down the timestream.  

The Time Machine: Dr. Nowlan’s invention.  The Time Machine is not a ship, but rather a stationary set of silver gates that open into a pre-set location.  The gates can be concealed but not closed while the machine is in use.

--

Episodes:

Episode 1 -  Witchhunt (1645 CE)

Lydia Nowlan, linguist and engineer, has just finished her life’s work.  She unwinds by answering an invitation from her estranged uncle.  When she arrives, she finds a surprisingly high tech laboratory, a strange device and her uncle nowhere to be found.  She is startled by the sudden appearance of Grok, her uncle’s assistant, and accidently activates the device, which turns out to be a time machine.

Lydia finds herself in medieval England, where her strange appearance and even stranger knowledge quickly makes her the target of a witchhunt.  But she isn’t the only time traveler at risk.  She meets fellow prisoner, Bibi Khunza, and the unlikely allies work together to escape.  Lydia’s uncle, Dr. Nowlan, comes to find her, bringing with him a time-lost space marine and a lot of questions.

The foursome, assisted by Lydia’s invention, agree to work together and find out what’s causing all these time disturbances and try to find a way to return everyone home.

Episode 2 - the Titanic (1911 CE)

Lydia’s invention continues to facilitate communication between our heroes, with the exception of the caveman, Grok.  They investigate another anomaly, this time aboard the HMS Titanic, where they meet the Victorian, Augustus Cole.  Khunza encounters some racism, which does not end well for the racists, while Lydia repeatedly attempts to warn about impending doom, and learns the regrettable lesson that some things can’t be changed.  She is introduced to the concept of the “Reese-Hartnell Effect” which prevents any time traveler from being able to make multiple attempts to influence the timestream.

As the now fivesome return back to Dr. Nowlan’s lab, they meet Zeta-5, an alien from the far future, who is very armed, and very insistent that he be returned home.

Episode 3 - Ancient Greece (399 BCE)

A comedy of errors involving Zeta-5’s weapon (actually a zoological inseminator) and the time machine sends most of the crew to ancient Greece.  Dr. Nowlan has an interesting conversation with Socrates, while Xavion gets to punch Plato in the face.  Khunza and Augustus find unlikely common ground as they solve a Philosophical Conspiracy.

Meanwhile, back home, Lydia, Zeta-5 and Grok have to find a way to repair the time machine and get the others back.

Episode 4 - Utopian Dreams (3505 CE)

The concept of utopia comes up again, when Dr. Nowlan takes the crew to the futuristic city of Kallipolis.  The peaceful surroundings inspire introspection: Khunza revealing her desperation to reunite with her young child, while Augustus and Xavion admit that they don’t have much of a home to return to.  Lydia has a cryptic encounter.

Nowlan’s plans to access the Kallipolitan Hall of Records is thwarted when a sudden insurrection scatters the crew to the four winds.

Episode 5 - Dystopian Nightmares (3505 CE)

Loyalist factions capture Lydia and Xavion.  Augustus gets to plan the heist of any number of centuries to get them out, while Zeta-5 discovers his inner revolutionary.

Lydia’s interrogation has some particular after effects that lead to some shocking revelations: namely, both she and her “uncle” were members of the Kallipolitan Time Agency, but her mind had been destroyed by the Reese-Hartnell Effect.  Dr. Nowlan had set everything up in an attempt to restore her to herself.

Episode 6 - Finale (???)

Dr. Nowlan has fled into the timestream having accomplished his goal but at the cost of his career and reputation, and possibly his life, should the Time Agents track him down.  Lydia and the others race to find him first, engaging in a merry game of chase and sabotage against their rival pursuers.

Dr. Nowlan does ultimately surrender himself into Lydia’s custody, but reveals that his notes have been destroyed in the chaos, meaning that now he genuinely can’t return anyone home.  Lydia must reconstruct his work, which she does, with some unexpected assistance: the caveman Grok.  He had observed most of Dr. Nowlan’s work and actually comprehends a lot more than anyone realizes.  The crew are finally sent home...for the most part.

Bibi Khunza returns to her kingdom and her son, and is able to resume her Regency without much incident.

Augustus Cole does not return home to Victorian England.  Instead, seeking a new challenge, he appears in Khunza’s court and is welcomed as a new “foreign advisor.”

There was a “miscalculation” and Xavion Knox is not returned to his own time, but rather six months earlier, to the incident of his partner’s death.  Due to the Reese-Hartnell Effect, Xavion has an opportunity to save the man that he loves and he doesn’t intend to waste it.  And this time, he won’t be alone.

Zeta-5, citing his race’s long lifespan, decides to go to Xavion’s time instead of his own.  He realizes that there is a very good chance that the Reese-Hartnell Effect will come into effect in about fifty years, but it might be interesting to live his life again from infancy onward.

Dr. Nowlan is serving out his sentence at the Kallipolitan Time Agency.  He’s treated well and receives many visitors.  He is, by all accounts, quite content.

Lydia Nowlan has received tacit approval to continue her linguistic studies across the timestream.  She is accompanied in this effort by her new partner, Grok.

--

Bonus:

As this is a Rip Chat challenge, of course I have slipped Arthur Darvill in here somewhere.  He has been cast as Dr. Pierce Draxton, head of the Kallipolitan Time Agency.  Because the man’s played a rebel.  Now I’d like to see him actually in charge.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

This is similar to one of my previous posts, but it has some new elements so I’m copying it over. This is the second of my posts on the core themes of each book in The Stormlight Archive. The first, on Rhythm of War, is here.

This post contains Rhythm of War spoilers.

Stormlight Archive Themes - Redemption in Oathbringer

If I pretend I didn’t do those things, it means I can’t have grown to become someone else. It cannot be a journey if it doesn’t have a beginning.

Redemption is a theme running through the entirety of the Stormlight Archive, but it is strongest and most central in Oathbringer- not only in Dalinar’s character arc but also in Szeth’s, in the start of Venli’s redemption arc, and - in a negative manner - in the arcs of Moash and Amaram. Oathbringer also, to my mind, encapsulates the philosophy of the entire series regarding redemption in one scene of striking symbolism.

The idea of redemption is Oathbringer is often paired, in analyses, with that of accepting responsibility for your actions - indeed, I almost titled this essay “redemption and responsibility.” And that is absolutely a necessary element that distinguishes the successful redemption arcs from the failed ones. But in thinking about it I realized that I had things in the wrong order - for both Dalinar and Venli, mercy is is what enables them to take responsibility, not the result of them doing so. They are both able to grapple with their actions and take responsibility for them, and this is what enables their redemption arcs, but in both cases it is a consequence of them already having been shown grace before they exhibited any change in behaviour.

When Dalinar visits the Nightwatcher, he has been a brutal conqueror for 23 years and then a drunk for the last five and a half. His sole redeeming characteristic is that he knows in his soul what he needs and it isn’t power or strength or to return to the man he was before Evi’s death, or the ability to blame someone else for his deed. He knows he’s guilty, and he begs for forgiveness. And what Cultivation gives him is not precisely that, but the chance to become someone better. It is crucial to remember that, while he forgets his actions and forgets Evi, that is not what asked for; his goal was not to be free of the knowledge of what he did, but the chance for it not to be the end of his story; the chance to be something other than the monster he knew he was.

When he rejects Odium’s offer to take his pain, on the battlefield outside Thaylen City, it is without any expectation of forgiveness or of freedom from his crushing guilt. Evi’s forgiveness is not something he has remotely earned or deserved, by that action or any of his actions; it is pure grace. When we talk about redemption arcs, “deserving” has nothing to do with it. Dalinar didn’t remotely deserve his. He knows this, and it’s why he’s ready to hold out the possibility of redemption to Amaram and, in ROW, to Taravangian - because if Dalinar can be redeemed, then the door is not closed to anyone. The difference is not in worthiness of redemption, but willingness to accept it.

And this is also seen in the beginning of Venli’s redemption arc. Timbre finds her and stays with her long before she’s demonstrated any positive qualities that would subgest fitness for being a Radiant. In the context of ROW, knowing that Eshonai bonded Timbre just before her death, I believe it’s because Eshonai asked her spren to look out for her sister. As with Cultivation’s gift to Dalinar, it is Venli’s bond with Timbre that enables her to become a better person, to make herself accountable to her people for her actions, to begin taking personal risks to do what is right.

Something similar is also present in Elhokar’s arc. Kaladin saves him before he’s done anything substantive to change, when Elhokar has only shown the first beginnings of recognition that he is not the person or the king that he should be or wants to be. He is capable of the change he exhibits in Oathbringer, the genuine humility and desire to serve his people, because Kaladin’s rescue gave him the chance to become that person. It’s not truly a failed or prevented redemption arc. He died, but he died trying to be better, and that matters.

The difference with Amaram, that prevents his redemption arc, isn’t that he’s uniquely evil. (Dalinar has also killed his own men, in battle-lust rather than in cold blood.) What prevents it is the rejection of the truth he knows in his soul: that he has done something horrifically evil, that he is in the wrong.

“No, he’ll never forgive me.”

“The bridgeman?”

“Not him.” Amaram tapped his chest. “Him.”

Amaram’s rationalizations during his fight with Kaladin are the consequence of him refusing the knowledge of who he is, or trying to escape from it. Ironically, Amaram previously put up quite a good pretence of willingness to accept responsibility for his own actions - he told Dalinar that after the war was over he’d be willing to stand trial for what he did to Kaladin and his men. I believe he meant it - but what he wanted, like Taravangian, was to be seen as, or see himself as, some kind of martyr, sacrificing his morality for the greater good. Which is a very different thing from the recognition that you’re wrong.

Moash’s arc is also one away from accepting responsibility - in his first chapter in Oathbringer, he feels terribly guilty for betraying Kaladin and recognizes thst he was wrong, and then he moves further and further away from this in every subsequent chapter, until Odium’s whispered lies - What happened at the Shattered Plains wasn’t my fault. I was pushed into it. I can’t be blamed. - begin to take hold. When he gives up his pain to Odium, he remains driven by the desperate need to hide from his guilt, and his campaign in ROW to drive Kaladin to suicide is driven in large part by the need to prove to himself that giving up hus pain was the only possible decision by driving Kaladin to make the same one. As long as Kaladin lives, he is proof of an alternative path. (Yes, a twisted death wish that regards this as mercy is also part of it.)

Moash, like Amaram, and Dalinar, and Venli, does receive an offer of redemption undeserved, not in Oathbringer but in the first part of ROW, in Renarin’s vision of him as someone who protects rather than destroys. He responds with terror - it can’t be possible, it needs to not be possible, because if another course is possible then his actions are not inevitable and he is responsible for them. (I know this vision has been compared to part of the magic system the Mistborn books, but to me it’s far more intuitive for it to be the Surge of Illumination, which we’ve already seen used by Shallan in a similar way in her drawings of Bluth, Gaz, and Elhokar, among others.) He spends the rest of the book trying desperately, and unsuccessfully, to extinguish that possibility.

And finally we have Szeth’s redemption arc. Szeth has never been in doubt that he is morally responsible for his actions, even when he did not concieve of himself as having a choice about them. I see his arc in the prior books as something much more nuanced than “just following orders” - that’s an excuse used by people who want to get out of making hard decisions, who prefer comfort and complacency. Szeth very much did not want to be in his position as assassin - he loathed it, and himself, and was willing to do anything within his power to avoid it; after killing Gavilar, he actively seeks out a life in obscurity as menial slave, concealing his abilities as far as he can, because that means he won’t be used to kill. It’s a life Kaladin spent years trying to escape from, and it’s Szeth’s idea of a best-case scenario. Szeth is in the position of desperately wanting choice, but conceiving of it as a privilege that he no longer possesses. I thimk this is connected to the meaning of Truthless - the underlying concept/rationale for the oathstone seems to be that literally anyone - any random person in the world - is capable of malimg better choices than you, so they, and not you, get to decide what you should do with your life. It’s near the end of his arc in Oathbringer - But it had always been nothing more than a rock - that he at last recognizes that he did have a choice about his actions.

Szeth, in his arc in Oathbringer, is very much motivated by the desire to do what is right and make right decisions, thpugh he is very out of practice at making any decisions at all. In the first test of the Skybreakers, he perceives that there’s something more important going pn that just chasing after wretched criminals, and that the warden’s immiseration of them is the worst crime of all. But it’s the second Skybreaker training session, with the practice fight using the balls of coloured dye, that gives us what I think is the heart of the theme of redemption both in Oathbringer and in the Stormlight Archive as a whole.

The contest feels a little out of place and low-drama - the recruits’ first test is killing criminals, and their second one is a game? But I believe it is absolutely crucial via the metaphor it communicates. Szeth starts out diing very well in the game - no one has hit him yet - and is actually enjoying himself for the first time in many, many years. And then he thinks this: He could not be happy. He was only a tool of retribution. Not redemption, for he dared not believe in such. If he was to be forced to keep living, it should not be a live that anyone should ever envy.

Other characters either accept both responsibility and redemption, or reject both. Szeth accepts responsibility, accepts guilt, tries to do right, even without the belief that redemption is possible.

And immediately after thinking that, he gets hit with the dye for the first time. He was doing well in the game when he was enjoying himself; now, when he rejects the possibility of redemption, he stops doing so well, and ultimately loses. Almost as if the universe were trying to tell him something.

And then, when he is bombarded with dye, runs out of Stormlight, and falls into the Purelake at the end of the exercise, he realizes something. It’s not actually about how many stains you have. He washes them off in the Purelake. And he wins the game.

To me, especially knowing Brandon’s religious background (and being a Christian myself), this is extraordinarily powerful symbolism of baptism, of the washing away of sin and entry into new life. It is stating the theme of redemption for the whole series. How many stains you have, what you’ve done in the past, doesn’t matter for redemption; what matters is whether you’re willing to accept redemption, accept the mercy that is offered, choose to be a new person. There is no such thing as being beyond redemption. The heroes of the story are not some perfect ideal, not the ones who manage to pick up very few stains. They are the ones who are willing to recognize that they have them and to wash them off; to recognize the wrong they have done and to change.

[princess-stabbity]

the upside of not making predictions public is no one knows when you privately had an absolutely clownshit take

the downside of not making predictions public is if u turn out to be onto something, you have no proof, so saying "i knew it" comes off equally clownshit

honk honk anyway, when the invasion started, i said to my dad "i wonder if he's doing this now because he thinks he doesn't actually have until 2036 to achieve his ultimate strategic goals. like maybe he got a diagnosis that's speeding up his timetable. would explain the weird long tables and the puffy face." but i recognized i was spitballing and basically had no evidence, just a hunch based on my general appraisal of the man's willingness to play the long game. (in fairness, my first thought was not illness. my first thought was that perhaps there was some sort of domestic stressor i was unaware of. picking a seemingly easy fight to whip up patriotic fervor is a classic fascist move, and he's benefited from the "rally around the flag" effect before. but then i saw the footage of him and was like "huh")

for the record, i don't think (if that report is true) that cancer or treatment of it is "making him more aggressive" (as i've seen suggested). he started with grozny, it is little surprise he would end up at bucha. what i wondered was why pick this moment, specifically? i can't find the link now, but i did read an assessment that laid out potential weaknesses they may have gauged in nato leaders at that moment (eg, macron's impending election, scholz's untestedness) and, combined with no one wanting to tell an authoritarian leader news he doesn't want to hear, it made enough sense to me that i kind of put the question aside

but faulty intel + perceived lack of international reaction + an impending sense of his own mortality goes a long way (for me, at least) towards explaining why he went at this half-cocked, when many analysts outside the federation scoffed at the idea he wasn't bluffing because surely he knows it's a bad idea. (perhaps something to be said, as well, for buying into the myth. he's smart, sure, not incapable of miscalculation)

makes a lot more sense than that "the west saying he was going to do it forced him to do it" shit. if someone accused me of planning a false flag and war of aggression, i would simply dunk on them by not doing those things. but maybe putin lacks my sigma female grindset