#stop calling him up. we have better younger players. please

[cowboyb1ues]

I’m convinced that Martin Braithwaite has some kind of dirt on Hjulmand

[mixelation]

first part of velocity (unproofed bc i am running out the door) ->

Minato was stressed. 

“Then Orochimaru has Shiranui,” Danzo intoned, dead confident even though Shikaku’s report on the situation had included dozens of unknowns. “No one else in the area could pose a threat to a Jounin of Konoha.”

“We still don’t know anything about this new village,” Minato pointed out, “or what clans joined it. There could still be lone actors–”

“Please,” Danzo interrupted, unimpressed. “No Sound ninja could disappear a Jounin so thoroughly.”

“With all due respect,” Minato said tightly, “you have not been on the frontlines in decades. Does anyone who’s actually been to Sound have any thoughts?”

Had Minato even invited Danzo to this meeting? He barely even remembered calling the meeting. Meetings just happened, now that he was Hokage. Turns out that’s all being Hokage was: things happened, and then instead of doing anything about them, Minato sat around listening to high ranking ninja explain their opinions. Oh, and sometimes he stamped things. Forms. Proposals. Budgets. Paperwork.

Four years ago, Minato had been spending most of his time on the frontlines. Going from the most hands-on possible approach to this had been a rough transition, and he had perhaps relied too heavily on the ancient Hokage's Council as a result. 

The war was slowly coming to a stop now, and he could definitely make some moves to bring in younger people with more recent experience. But for now, he had to work with what was in place. For this meeting, that was Shikaku, an ex-field commander he’d nab in the hallway because she’d been stationed in Sound, and a bunch of old people. 

“Danzo-sama is right in that we’ve knocked out most of their known major players,” the ex field commander drawled. “But you never know, out there in the boonies. They’re not like us; they just let any ninja wander around and chop up whoever they want.”

To illustrate this, she held up her right arm, which ended not with a hand but with a wiry assistive device meant to let her hold a writing utensil. 

“...right,” Shikaku said slowly. “Inuzuka last caught his scent near the new… village, if we’re calling it that… but we can’t pin it on them, and we also can’t eliminate some other third party.”

Genma had only been officially missing a scant thirty hours. He’d been en route between camps for normal restationing and missed his check-in. If he were most ninja, this would not have warranted a meeting. It probably would have been dealt with locally, shoved into a summary report, and Minato probably wouldn’t have found out for days that anything at all had happened. If this had been at the height of the war, even someone like Genma might have gotten this treatment. 

But the war was waning, and Genma was part of the Hokage’s guard. As someone intimately familiar with Minato’s personal life and the inner workings of Hokage tower, Genma was important enough to warrant a quick investigation, and they had the people and time to dedicate to it. 

“Why was Shiranui even in Sound?” Koharu asked. 

Minato leaned back in his seat, biting his thumbnail in thought. He really didn’t see the need to have a full guard inside the village, and morale at field camps was usually better when popular Jounin like Genma were hanging around. Minato had seen it as more useful to have him running chores out in the field. 

It was true that a Hokage’s guard would be a great hostage, if some nefarious player wanted to re-escalate war. 

That would be so many meetings, Minato thought. He really couldn’t have that. 

The meeting wrapped up with barely a plan in place, as was what happened at many meetings. Shikaku would send word to both camps to re-sweep the area, and then Minato would add it to his agenda at yet another meeting to rearrange people to put together a tracking team instead of just one random Inuzuka who happened to be on duty. 

Miraculously, one of his afternoon meetings was canceled. Someone had died. Such was life as a shinobi. 

“I could move up your meeting with the fruit vendors’ union,” his secretary said. 

“Please don't,” Minato replied. He hated talking to those guys. 

His secretary left, and Minato immediately felt antsy. It was very rare he had an hour free like this in the middle of the day. What could he do? Take a nap? Kidnap Naruto away from his babysitter for a playtime speedrun? Bother Kushina? He glanced at the clock. No, Naruto would be down for a nap and Kushina would be meeting with the Academy headmaster about their curriculum on storage scrolls again… 

Minato glanced down at the mess of paperwork on his desk. He really, really didn’t want to do any of it right now. How was his job both stressful and boring? He liked being free to see his little family most evenings, and he mostly liked acting as a leader. But he’d thought he’d get more time to just be a ninja. 

Actually, he thought. Was he not his own boss? Was there not a pressing problem he couldn’t just solve right now?

Sound Country had been home to several major ninja pathways, camps, and battles during this war. Minato had plenty of Hiraishin markers scattered around, including along the path Genma would have taken between camps. 

Minato found Genma in about eight minutes of searching, several hundred meters off the normal route. 

“Hokage-sama!” Genma cried in evident relief. His face was one Minato had seen often in his lifetime but not so much in the last few years of mainly administrative work: the instant relief of a man who’d consigned himself to death, now realizing that he was going to live. 

Minato shot him a reassuring smile even as his eyes darted around the clearing. There were no ninja in the area, but Genma was currently trapped within the glowing walls of a massive blue-green chakra barrier. It had an unusual shape, delineated by stalks of bamboo at the corners of an irregular pentagon. 

Well, this shouldn’t be too difficult to dismantle. Minato might be off the battlefield, but he was still up to snuff on all things fuuinjutsu. He stepped up the closet bamboo shoot, which had a seal carved… into it…?

“What happened?” he asked Genma as he eyed the seal. This was… not a normal piece of fuuinjutsu. Hmm. 

“There was a little girl,” Genma started. He sounded incredibly stressed as he described the sequence of events: Genma had encountered a local civilian girl on his trek. He recognized her as belonging to a nearby village and being one of the local women and children who’d occasionally barter with Konoha field camps. She’d sprained her ankle, and he’d stop to help. 

“But then she… I don’t know, she… the barrier…”

 Then this random civilian girl had activated a barrier and left Genma. Sure. Why not. 

“Are you sure she’s not a ninja?” Minato asked, frowning at the seal. He could recognize it as a barrier seal, but there were like seventeen things going on with it he didn’t understand. A civilian could activate certain types of ninja-made seals in theory, but not this one. 

“No, she’s the soap girl!” Genma bemoaned. “She shows up sometimes to sell shitty soaps. There’s no way she’s a ninja.”

But then, Genma continued in a clearly upset sort of ramble, she’d asked him if he was well-hydrated and how much water and food he had on him, and just left. 

“I’ve been here at least two days,” Genma said. 

“The barrier lasted that long?” Minato asked. “Impressive.”

“Impressive?” Genma repeated. 

“It’s a fairly chakra-heavy barrier,” Minato replied. Genma continued to stare at him with what looked like a vaguely scandalized expression. “Usually to maintain something like this long-term, you’d need to put a lot of chakra in at the beginning– usually done with multiple people, and definitely not by a child– or you’d need to be actively maintaining it. This little girl never came by? No other ninja?”

Genma stared at him, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open. Minato raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Well, no,” Genma said after a few moments had passed. “Can you please get me out before we debrief?”

Ah, Minato supposed Genma was a little freaked out by the prospect of his own untimely death, withering away in a random barrier by what seemed to be the random whims of a child. That was fair. Minato turned back to the seal. 

He looked at it some more, then moved around to the next bamboo shoot, and then the next. 

“Huh,” he said. 

“Hokage-sama?” Genma asked. 

“I have no idea how to undo this,” Minato said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. 

“Hokage-sama.”

Genma was looking at him in horror now, but Minato could feel a certain giddiness building in his stomach. Finally, something interesting! What was going on with this seal? He could tell a bunch of the mystery components had to do with pulling chakra, but from where? The bamboo itself? Minato had heard stories from Kushina of ancient Uzushio seals using length of living kelp, twisted into seals that could pull on chakra as long as the kelp was alive. But those were supposed to be legends! 

“Hokage-sama, are you smiling?” Genma whined. 

“It’s just really interesting,” Minato defended. He was going to save Genma, okay? “I’m going to get my notes.”

It only took Minato a minute to teleport to his office, dig up a notebook with enough blank pages, and then teleport back. Genma still gave him a look of deep betrayal that he’d left at all. 

Minato was pretty good at multitasking, so he quizzed Genma on details of how the seal had been activated while copied the location of the seals and took etchings of them. 

“She didn’t mention any name at all?” Minato confirmed. “No boss she’s working for?”

Minato really, really wanted to meet whoever had made this nightmare of a seal. He wanted to know how they’d come up with it, and then quiz them if they new more seals like this, that could use chakra from natural sources, and then maybe have this person to dinner to just talk fuuinjutsu with him and Kushina all night. 

Except they were in an enemy nation, so probably Minato would have to settle for imprisoning this person and then interrogating them via Yamanaka mindwalk. Boo. 

Also, on top of the wild chakra source, the barrier was just really well made. Genma had not just been sitting around for two days; he’d executed several earth jutsu to try and burrow out, but the barrier extended underground. It even stood up to a rasengan. Minato couldn’t even destroy the five bamboo shoots powering the whole thing, because they were integrated into the walls of the barrier itself. 

“This person must have troubleshooted this a lot,” Minato said, squinting at one of the seals. This thing matched no reports of anything Konoha had seen during the war. How could they have never noticed this person running around?

Genma was clearly starting to panic again. 

“Sir, what are you going to do?” he asked. “I’m out of water and food.”

Minato cocked his head to the side, thinking. He did have another meeting he really had to go to, as much as he wanted to stay here and geek out over this cool new seal. He could teleport over to the nearest camp, tell them where Genma was so they could put a guard on him, and then come back later with Kushina. Could they safely bring Naruto? He always felt guilty when they had to leave the kid alone in the evening…

Then, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. They weren’t particularly loud, but they were definitely civilian. Genma shut his mouth, and Minato turned to the source, eyebrows raised. 

The person got close enough that he could see the outline of a figure through the bamboo. The person was small, clearly a child. Then they clearly realized they’d made a terrible mistake and turned to flee. 

Minato shot forward, grabbing the kid by the back of her yukata. She matched the description Genma had given of the kid who’d trapped him: dark curly hair and eyes, around eight. She stomped over to the clearing like a civilian who was used to navigating bamboo, and then for the briefest moment where she’d attempted to run, made it very clear she was a ninja in training. 

So. That was interesting. 

Minato pulled her into the clearing and set her down on her feet. She was technically an enemy who had put an important Konoha Jounin in a situation which might actually kill him, but also she was a little kid. Minato hated having to kill or bully kids. 

“Hi there,” he said, shooting her his most child-friendly smile. 

“Reina, you horrible little brat!” Genma yelled, banging his fists on the wall of the barrier. 

Reina ignored him entirely, eyeing Minato up and down with deep suspicion. She was either extremely confident the barrier could completely contain Genma, or she’d recognized Minato as the greater threat, or both. 

“Don’t worry,” Minato said. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer some questions as best you can, and you won’t even get in trouble, okay?”

“Oooh, you’re going to be in so much trouble when I get out!” Genma screamed. 

“Ignore him,” Minato said, then winked playfully at her. 

Reina’s lips thinned and she looked doubtful. But she also didn’t even spare Genma a glance as she shouted threats at her. 

“Look, I’m not going to kill him,” Reina said finally. “I was… even coming to feed him.”

She produced a beat up looking bag of dried fruit from her pocket and held this up as if it were evidence. There were only a few pieces left. If Minato hazarded a guess, he’d say it was left over from her own snack and then forgotten in her pocket. 

“Right,” Minato said slowly. “Listen, I don’t really care that you trapped him.”

(“WHAT?” Genma yelled.)

“But I really want to know, Reina-chan,” Minato continued, trying to look as friendly as possible even as Genma continued to bluster in outrage, “do you know who made this barrier?”

Reina’s brows furrowed slightly, studying his face. Minato smiled back encouragingly. He eyes finally darted over to the barrier. 

“Oh,” she said, as if realizing something. “Oh. Yeah, of course that’s what you’d want. Ummm.”

She fidgeted with the bag of dry fruit in her hands, crinkling the plastic under her fingers. The label was faded with time and the wear and tear of riding around in a child’s pockets, but it was one of the brands Konoha included in their ration packs for field camps. She’d likely gotten it from a field camp. 

“Did someone show you the trap?” Minato asked gently. 

“Uh, well,” Reina replied. “About that…”

Reina didn’t seem to be too afraid to talk to him, but she also seemed to be afraid of whatever the answers to his questions were. This made sense to Minato. If she was a ninja living in this area, she was probably associated with this new “village” Orochimaru had made. It would be logical to fear he’d turn violent if she brought up Konoha’s most notorious missing-nin. 

Briefly, Minato wondered if the seal was Orochimaru’s design. Setting up and then abandoning a trap such that a child might take advantage of it was not something Orochimaru was likely to do, but perhaps he’d developed the fuuinjutsu and someone else had set it up. 

Except, no– that wasn’t really aligned with Orochimaru’s skillset. Orochimaru was a prolific fuuinjutsu user, but he wasn’t a true master. Under Konoha he’d never shown interest in developing new fuuinjutsu beyond some modifications to seals useful to his research. Not even he could wake up one day and spontaneously invent what looked like an entirely new field of fuuinjutsu. 

Minato felt like fidgeting himself with excitement. If it wasn’t Orochimaru, maybe dinner wasn’t completely off the table. 

Reina still hadn’t answered, so Minato tried, “I know you’re an Oto-nin, and that our villages don’t really get along. But I promise I just want to know who made this seal. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

He did his best “don’t worry, I’m here to save you and you’re not going to die” smile. Reina tilted her head back, eyes narrowing. 

“Okay,” she said. “Nothing bad will happen to me? I have your word?”

“Um, yes,” Minato said. 

“So if I go back to my boss and tell him I gave up fuuinjutsu secrets to the Hokage, he won’t do anything bad?”

“No,” Minato replied slowly, and Reina looked at him like he was deeply stupid, the type of look only a little kid could level at an adult. It was the type of unimpressed expression he now only ever got from his own child. “Well,” Minato corrected. “I won’t do anything to you, and my friend here won’t either.”

He shot Genma a look. Genma glared back at him but shut up. 

“So I don’t have your word that nothing bad will happen,” Reina concluded. 

Gods above, Minato thought, starting to feel annoyed. His meeting was in fifteen minutes, but he wanted the identity of this fuuinjutsu user so bad. Why do they have to make kids so smart?

“At least ask her to get me out of here,” Genma said, keeping his voice level this time, although there was a hint of desperation in there. 

Minato had not asked for this, because he had assumed the girl had simply known of the trap and walked Genma into it, and was therefore unlikely to know how to deactivate it. But she eyed Minato up and down again, and then said:

“I’ll let him out, but you have to keep your word.”

Then she pulled a brush and a bottle of ink from her sleeves and walked over to the nearest bamboo shoot. Minato followed her, holding back the urge to ask her about fifteen questions. She was eight. She probably had no idea how the seal worked. 

“You know, my clan kicked me out,” Reina said conversationally as she applied ink directly to the barrier as it hummed over the wood of the bamboo. Who the hell taught her to do that? No one did that. That would have been Minato’s “well, nothing else worked” level attempt at breaking it. “I don’t have any biological family to defend me or look after me. My clan only lets me stay around because uniting the clans means other people take care of me. Really, I’ve been looking for a way to escape.”

“Uh huh,” Minato replied, watching her hands as she painted characters over the ones etched into the bamboo. A counter-seal then… what a bizarre way to design something, to only be able to undo it by painting a brand new seal on top. That barely left room for any error, although he supposed the benefit was that this approach had made it so Genma couldn’t just break the bamboo, and even someone like Minato would need days of work to come up with a counter-seal. 

Reina made no errors in her counter-seal, and so she didn’t blow them all up or screw up the seal such that no one could take it down. The walls of the barrier fizzled away, and for a second Genma looked like he was on the brink of tears. 

“Hey, stand down,” Minato chided when Genma made a move towards them and Reina tensed. Had Genma not been listening to their whole conversation? 

Genma obeyed, standing at attention while also scowling at Reina. 

Reina stared up at Minato expectantly, the ink brush still in her hands. The counter-seal had melted into ink stains on the bamboo and the surrounding grass when the barrier lifted, and Minato considered asking her to draw it again for him to make sure he got all the details. 

Still, who on earth had taught such a young child such advanced fuuinjutsu? Minato flipped his notebook to a new page and eyed Reina. 

“Reina-chan,” he said slowly. “Who is your fuuinjutsu teacher?”

“Oh, um,” she said. “Oto encourages… self study…?”

He stared down at her. 

No way. No fucking way. 

“Sir,” Genma said. 

“About your promise,” Reina started. 

Minato had his stupid meeting in two minutes, and it was vital to keeping the village running or whatever. He didn’t have time to unpack this right now. 

“You said your clan kicked you out?” he asked Reina. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “So if you could just drop me off in–”

“So you don’t have family you’d miss?” he asked. 

“Uh… no?”

Right. This was perfect. He took her hand, then grabbed for Genma’s forearm. He teleported all three of them into his office. 

“This isn’t–” Reina started, for the first time showing actual fear. 

“It’s okay,” Minato said, patting her on the head. Children liked that, right? Well, Naruto hated it, but Academy kids loved when he paid attention to them. “Genma, go get checked out at the hospital and then come back for a debriefing.”

“Um, yessir,” Genma said, eyeing Reina and looking completely unsure of the situation. 

Minato actually couldn’t wait to quiz Reina on what the fuck was going on in Oto. How much fuuinjutsu did she actually know? How had she gotten the idea for the wild bamboo seal? Did Orochimaru maybe have old Uzushio materials lying around that Minato and Kushina should know about?

“Hokage-sama,” his secretary said, entering the office, “the Hyuuga clan representative… who is this child?”

Right. His meeting. He’d have to hold off on talking to her. If she were an adult, the protocol would be to stick her with T&I. But she wasn’t an adult; she was an increasingly frightened looking child. If he stuck her in T&I, he’d not only create a ton of red tape for himself to interact with her, but she might end up too freaked out to talk to him as soon as he wanted her to. 

“Genma,” he said, deciding on the best course of action. “On your way down, drop Reina-chan off with Kushina.”

Genma sighed. “Sure, Hokage-sama,” he said, sounding deeply unhappy. 

There. Now Minato could have his fun little dinner. 

[giggly-squiggily]

Helloo if req is open may you write a platonic tk fic between rin and sae if it is posible? Thank you so much!

Oh my god YES! :D These two need it, I swear! Okay so; general heads up: I'm exclusively an anime watcher when it comes to Blue Lock- meaning I don't really know how these two's relationship stands or what goes down during/post the whole U-20 arc; I just know they deserve to be happy. I hope you like it! :D

CW: Swearing, angst with a happy ending, sass, possible OOC-ness of the characters (I tried to keep it as close to their canon personalities as possible but yeah), Spoilers for Sae and Rin's backstory- kinda. Not full detailed ones but I'll tag accordingly anyway

Cloud 9 (Taglist):

@myreygn, @cupcake-spice13

“Hey, who allowed you to get so tall?” Sae narrowed his eyes at him.

“Genetics.” Rin shrugged, pushing down the toaster shelf.

If you told Rin Itoshi he’d have a relationship with his brother again in the near future, he would have told you to fuck off. Possibly throw shoes at you too.

Then he’d feel bad for throwing shoes because he was raised better than that, but still.

Things kinda happened in a blur since the U-20 match. A call had come; an invite to dinner. Then he was at Sae’s hotel room, splitting a pizza when the restaurant proved too crowded for either of them. Words were exchanged, a few tears were shed, and by the end of the night, Rin found he could finally breathe again in the presence of Sae.

They’re relationship was still fairly awkward at times; it was impossible to go back to where they were before Sae went to Spain. Still- when Rin called him and mentioned they’d gotten time off from Blue Lock, a room was made up for him at the apartment; clean and prepped with fresh bedding, as if it’d been waiting for him this entire time.

“No mint on the pillow?” He joked upon getting there.

“Please, we already have Shidou. We don’t need anymore pests.” Sae had rolled his eyes, the gesture lacking any real malice upon mentioning the demonic player.

That’s where they were now- getting comfortable in their newfound relationship.

“Tch.” Sae scoffed, shaking his head in mock disapproval as he turned from the coffee maker, mug in hand. “I remember when you barely came up to my elbow. You were so small- running after me on those stubby legs of yours, trying to kick the ball out from beneath my feet.” He shook his head, a rare smile tugging on his lips. “You’d get so worked up about it too. I’d have to buy you a popsicle so you’d stop crying.”

“Shut up, I was six.” Rin rolled his eyes, a blush burning his face at the memory. “Of course I was short. At least I grew since then.” He turned, raising a brow at his brother. “What’s your excuse?”

A look of shock passed his brother’s face, jaw dropped and brows raised. Rin felt a twinge of satisfaction. If the Press could see his usually stoic brother now, they’d probably faint. “I see you gained a mouth along with all that height in these past few years.” He sounded a touch impressed.

“More than you gained, it seems.” Rin couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t even that Sae could be called short; it was just so satisfying to sass him. He deserved it, probably. 

“Tall as you are, you’re still a little shit.” Sae put down his mug, rolling up his sleeves with a dangerous glint. “Seems like I’m gonna have to remind you just who you’re talking to.”

Rin ignored him- mainly due to the toaster popping, presenting his warmed Pop-tart. He should have known Sae didn’t make empty threats.

The moment his poptart touched the plate, hands were latching onto his sides, digging into his ribs with relentless pressure. Rin-much to his embarrassment- let out a loud squawk, the poptart nearly flying out of hand as he doubled over. “Gah! N-No! Dohon’t!”

“All this time later and you’re still ticklish?” Sae sounded deeply amused, a rare smile pulling on his lips as he carried on wiggling his fingers up and down the younger boy’s sides. “Maybe you should have considered that before you started sassing me.”

Rin went to retort with yet another remark, but Sae had found a terrible spot beneath his lower ribs, clogging his throat with growing giggles. “Ngh! N-No! S-Sae!”

“Hm? What, no retort?” The older boy asked, keeping one hand on Rin’s lower ribs while the other came around to his belly, clawing. “Come on- just laugh. You know you want to.”

That did it. Rin let out a wheeze before he doubled over, laughter bubbling over his lips as he tried sinking to the kitchen floor. “Fuuhuhuhuhuhuck! Fuhuuhhuhuck, gahhahahahahahha! Nohoohohoohooho, Sahahahahhahahe you ahahhahahahhahass!”

“Oi, show some respect, you brat.” Sae switched to digging into Rin’s armpits when his hips proved too far to reach, barely fighting down a chuckle at the harsh swear his brother let out, immediately followed by childlike giggles. “Look at you- you can barely say my name, let alone stand. Tell you what- take back what you said about me being short and I’ll let you live.”

“Nehehehhehver, shohoohohort stahhahahahck!” Rin declared without any hesitation. Ever the stubborn one.

Sae tsked, slowing down his tickles and giving the other a chance to breathe. “You really are determined to die today, are you? I’m starting to regret letting you stay here- how the hell am I going to hide your body?” He reached out, squeezing the back of Rin’s neck, earning a yelp as the boy scrunched up. “Maybe I’ll bury you in the backyard and plant a garden over you. Think Shidou would notice?”

“Prohoohbably not.” Rin groaned, and then- because he could. “He’s used to shitty things. That’s why he’s dating you.”

Sae, who was turning back to his coffee, froze, slowly looking back at Rin with scary eyes. Oh, he was DEAD. “And to think I was gonna be merciful this morning.”

Seconds later, Rin was kicked onto his back, Sae pinning him faster than he could react. He wasn’t much of a fighter- neither of the brother’s were- though Rin was faster to throw a punch. He went to do just that before a scream ripped from his throat, laughter returning stronger than ever. “GAHEHHAHAHAH! SHAHAHAHHAE!”

“I tried to be nice, but it’s clear to me that you’re still a little shit all this time later.” Sae scolded as he drilled his thumbs into Rin’s hips, going right for his worst spot. “Now- do you wanna repeat what you just said?”

“AHEHAHHAHA!” Rin was a mess, hands trying to shove off Sae’s vice grip as he thrashed and squirmed against the kitchen floor, feet kicking and scoffing the ground. His face felt like it was on fire, and his hair blinded him, hiding his scrunched up eyes. It was humiliating and stupid and he wanted to rip his skin off as a means of escape.

But also…it was fun. Really fun. He hadn’t felt like this since they were kids, when Sae would tickle him until he was squealing through tears caused by a scraped knee. He could almost see the fond smile his brother wore when he did so. The memory even during all this made his heart ache.

“Do you give up?” Sae asked, bringing him back to reality. Right- his death. A small part of him was tempted to shake his head, declare that he’d never give up just to see what would happen.

What came out of his mouth instead shocked both of them.

“NIHIIHIIHIHIIHI-SAHHAHAN PLEHAHAHAHHASE!” The squeal of mercy was the true end of it all. Sae’s hands stopped almost immediately, pulling away from Rin’s prone body. The younger boy scooted up the floor a few paces arms tossed loosely around his waist as he tried to catch his breath. Well, at least it was over-

Oh god.

Oh GOD.

“Shit…” He groaned, covering his face with his hands, mortified. He didn’t just say that outloud-he didn’t! Across from him, Sae was silent as stone, seeming to be frozen to the floor. Great- there goes any real progress they made at fixing their relationship. Rin readied the speech in his head. I’ll head back to our parent’s house. I’ll be fine. I’ll be gone in the morning-

“Heh, you haven’t called me that in years.” Sae spoke, his voice strangely soft. When Rin dared a peek, he saw it.

 It wasn’t as open as it was years before, but the same fond look was in his eyes, softening his carefully stoic expression immensely. A ghost of a smile was on his brother’s lips, not quite there yet, but it was something.

“Don’t remind me. God, that was- that…Fuck! You suck!” Rin growled, scooting back with a proper glare. Sure his face was still on fire, and his body was still tingling with a cross of tickly residue and nostalgia, but he was adamant on being angry. “What the hell? My Poptart-”

Sae then did the unexpected. He bursted into laughter.

“Pfft- Gehehhahahaa! Good god, aahhhafter all that, and you're worried about a POPTART?” He cackled, falling back on his ass as he held his gut, head thrown back and smile wide. “Good God, Rin! You haven’t changed at all.”

“....Tch, whatever.” Rin rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he fought down his own fit of laughter, the struggle increasing when Sae let out an ungodly pig snort. “Ugh, you’re so annoying.” He kicked his leg gently, too tired to stand. He felt light and breathless and exhausted and just…

“What’s up?” Sae shook his ankle, gaining his attention. “You look sad.”

“I’m not.” Rin ducked his head, hiding his expression. “I’m not. I just…I don’t know- I think part of me…misses this.” He waved between them. “I missed just…laughing with you, I guess. It all feels so far away, still.”

Sae hummed, considering. Then he stood, walking over and offering a hand. “It doesn’t have to be a distant memory anymore.” When Rin looked up, Sae’s face was back to its usual calm, but his eyes were kind. “I’m here. And I don’t plan on leaving again.”

“Promise?” Rin hated how small his voice sounded. He hated it more when he saw something break in Sae’s eyes, dark with remorse.

“I promise.” He sounded a tag hoarse as he ruffled Rin’s hair, breaking the tension. “Come on then, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Please don’t.” Rin cringed as he stood. “You can’t cook.”

“Do you want me to tickle you again?” Sae raised a brow. Rin couldn’t help but grin.

They ended up ordering breakfast instead.

Thanks for reading!

[sparkles-oflight]

Conspiracy theories

Small angsty Jance short story (around 1k words or something) that have been meaning to write for a while now. Btw, as I wrote this I was like "shit this is too similar to Rio's inertia" 💀

Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don't encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.

As the tall and slim man Jan messed around with his guitar, he thought about his little kitten back at home.

It has been now two months since they arrived to London and Jan couldn't wait for the opportunity to go back to his beloved pet. He knew his family would take good care of him, but, to him, Igor was like a son and he could not not think about him.

- How are you feeling, man? - another tall man showed up to his room and sat next to him. Jan couldn't help but to look at the man who placed his hand on his shoulder...Jan wanted to analyze each of his tattoos and intertwined his fingers on this man's.

He didn't reply though. He just shrugged.

- Thinking about Igor again? - and once more, Jan just shrugged - Look, I'm sure he's fine and if you really want we could always call your home to see how's doing.

- Ah... - Jan stretched his whole body and smiled - I know he's doing great.

Jan let his head rest on Nace's shoulder...then his chest. It was nice hearing his heartbeat. It calmed him down.

- Where are the others? - Jan asked curiously.

- Grocery shopping.

- Really? How come you didn't go?

- Kris is trying to make them more organized and helpful and that they "need to stop relying" on me.

- Fair.

Jan rested there for a while longer...but he felt as if Nace's heartbeat was accelerating.

- What are you thinking about? - the guitar player looked up at him

- Olie. - Jan could tell that was a lie.

Truth be told, Jan could guess what it was...Nace had told him a couple of times that he hasn't been so close with someone since he was with his ex.

It's one thing when they are on stage and they try to please the fans with conspiracy theories. It's another thing entirely when the two of them are alone...who are they trying to please?

Maybe it's themselves. That's what Jan believed in.

- Can I ask you something? - Nace lifted the guitarist's chin to look him in the eyes.

But as they looked, neither said anything. Instead they only looked at each other's eyes. Maybe hungry...? But for each other?

Nace was trying to find something there...a support. Jan was thinking about their first meeting...

It took him a while to accept him into the group but during Eurovision things between them got so much better...and that's how this situation came to be.

Jan really really wanted something with Nace... and maybe, right it's time to take another step forward.

Jan got closer... close enough so that their lips touched.

But then he felt hands on his chest...telling him to stop.

- Sorry. - the younger one was at a loss for words.

- Don't be. I... - It seemed like the bass player was just as confused.

- I didn't know you were straight. I really thought -

- My sexuality is not what's a stake. I don't like labels. - he put his hand on his lips - It's just...maybe I gave you mixed signals? I thought we were just doing it for the bit.

- Yeah...the bit. - Jan was clenching his jaw - You know what also is a part of "the bit"? How you touch me when no one else is around! How you let me invade your personal space! How you let me be vulnerable next to you! How you seem to care about every little thing I say! I really thought-!

- I was just being nice! - Nace got up.

- Nice is different from leading someone on for "the bit". - Jan also got up.

- Jan-

- DON'T "Jan" ME. Nace... I'm hurt.

Jan knew he was in the wrong for feeling like Nace owned him any sort of romantic feelings, and he knew that assuming his sexuality was also a shitty thing to do. But he was hurt...both at Nace and at himself for letting him invest - for letting him believe something so stupid could be a reality.

Nace on the other hand...

He grabbed Jan and kissed him strongly on his lips.

- IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT!? - he asked...more than nervous or angry, he was frustrated because he didn't know what to do... - Did you even feel anything about it!?

Jan decided to step forward again and kiss him just as violently, which lead to both and Nace to exploring each other's mouths in a moment of anger... The slimmer one someone managed to make the older one fall onto the bed. As they both grabbed each other's hair and clothes...they couldn't tell if they were angry or lusting over each other.

But they kept it going. Even if they both knew it was wrong. What good could come from angry sex between two people on the same band? Of two people who will have to stick together for a couple of more months at least...

- Is this what you wanted? - Nace asked after they were done.

- Nace... - Jan was at a loss of words - I like you...a lot.

- Great, I hope you liked this a lot then. - He replied in irony.

- I'm sorry for...

- Implying my sexuality?

- Yeah, but you didn't need to prove it to me.

- I'm not, thank you. - he placed his hand on his forehead - Jan...I was still thinking of my ex. The way we broke up was...abrupt. And I also don't want to lie to you...The reason I let you on was because I-I thought I liked you too!

- And now?

- Now...I don't know! It seems like you are forcing me to figure out my feelings more than anything. Jan - he looked at the younger one - Please never pull that shit again. I know I was shitty but for fuck sake don't make anyone feel bad about not sharing the same feelings as you!

Jan stopped to listen to Nace...he really was childish. He was really wished he never hurt Nace this way...but...how could someone who he loved hurt him? And how come he hurt someone he loved?

- Is anyone home? - Jure yelled from the entrance.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Afternote: I love myself some morally grey characters 🩶

Polaroid Photos Universe | Recommended next: Conspiracy Theories (Alternative Ending)

[itsdappleagain]

it is time for the crackle goes kiwi caper!

oh man. im so close to being caught up. hold on, stockholm, I'm coming and i WILL be on time (i hope)

thats auckland btw

notes under the cut as always

OH okay ive been saving a really old edit for this episode

you're welcome

oh opening thoughts on the episode. ummmmmm its good. i like it. only reason i would have to dislike it is i guess the sort of red crackle stuff from it but i dont hate red crackle on default so it stands as a good episode. i like the dancing and the stakes actually feel pretty high a lot of the time!

not player hacking into the russian government

ah, neal. neal the eel. he is indeed. an eel

also rhys darby is my favorite voice actor on the planet

also also autistic dr bellum real and true

YOU WILL TRY

YUHHH GET IT

neal loving puns 👍

the "coo" neal does after he escapes into the vent is the bane of my existence i hate it with a burning passion

i wonder if "project tripwire" is supposed to be an experiment left over from the cold war or something?

zack is enjoying his sandwich!

that lean over carmen's shoulder one hand on the desk one hand on his hip move shadowsan is doing is the most dad thing

top ten moments before disaster

GIRL THE 3/4 PROFILE IN CS STYLE DOESNT WORK STOP USING IT

i love that the vile harddrive is like. VILE google

CRISPY FRIED CARMEN

player: we need an electrician who knows their stuff so carmen doesnt get electrocuted to death!! the job they need done: wooo slidey thingies....ooooooo dont let it touch the line!! woooo!!

player in s1: we CANT let crackle get ANYWHERE near you he may be a SLEEPER AGENT or put you in DANGER player in s2: we cant 🥺 even bring him back to play for the good guys? 🥺🥺🥺

i guess thats probably because shadowsan confirmed that he doesnt have any memories or sleeper agent tendencies lmaoo

fun fact! graham's cafe does not in fact exist. it is a housing complex/ lookout

carmen could not have picked a more. i mean just what a cover story. obviously i get that its personal to her but imagine being an electrican and this lady who is even younger than you comes up to you and is like oh...yeah i run an international charity. for abandoned children how unaccomplished would you feel wheeze

i will never stop saying this but SAY GOODBYE OR SOMETHING PLEASE CARMEN

interesting that the "cuppa" he insists she has with him kind of sets off a shit ton of stuff for s4. if acme hadn't taken gray in they wouldnt have probably ever been able to help carmen get out of mind control, or it would have taken much longer. she wouldnt have been able to discover and destroy the robots. weird stuff

insert meme about people calling paper star tammy because of that one time she used that as a codename here. except its with player and peter

ALSO HEEY PLAYERS ACCENT FROM S1 PAID OFF...he was practicing...

where did they get that ballet which is perfectly synched up to the lights he needs to turn off

not bellum's ominous green lighting black shiny lab. so subtle

also you would think that the power station bellum draws ALL her power from would be better protected wouldnt you?

did they let crackle practice the "lights" because if they didnt- yikes that sucks and if they did- bellum's security mechanism just going haywire as he practices pjgkkjsghd

mm this scene is good

OH also. eternal bounce looping gif because mmgh that animation is good

that animation of gray adjusting the slides where he goes in like. an arc in reverse. good shit

carmen is so not normal about the electric fields i love her. i get you're supposed to be dancing but girlie just run and jump its ok

even more bouncy because i cant be stopped

I LOVE HOW BOUNCY SHE IS. LOST IN THE SAUCE (the sauce is tchaikovsky)

a nearly electrifying performance is the best way to tell your best friend you didnt just die in a really horrible way

honestly the quip about sheep is a pretty good one. neal is SO COOL his fight scenes are really fun. takes a lot of ingenuity for our mains to outdo him

also his score is SOOO COOL its like. its slithery idk how to explain it

HAHAHA SHE PROTECTED THE FACE AND HE WENT FOR HER LEGS

i love how she was just like "nah fuck this" and ran the other way

HIS "OUGH" WHEN SHE TRIES TO KICK HIM IN THE FACE DHGDJHGKD. WASNT EXPECTING THAT ONE I GUESS

she goes down really hard a couple times fighting him. you can hear after he mule kicks her against the wall that it hurt

carmen's signature move, the titty twister

that "slick" line has become a line i just repeat with the same inflection like five times a day wugewghdh

player's kiwi went a little irish there

why did he go out the back door looking for carmen if the rest of the "theater" was supposed to be the other way 😭

oh okay nevermind he's just. he just doesn't listen

gremlin bellum appreciation

gray is literally the luckiest motherfucker alive please

didnt carmen lock the door behind her also??? im so confused how did he get in

"carmen?" "sandiego" (clapping noise from the intro)

the little confused noise gray makes pls its so funny

also love how his first question is "what kind of concert hall is this" and not "why are we sprinting down a hallway"

THATS THE NIGHT THAT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN AUCKLAND (sick guitar) THATS THE NIGHT THAT THEY H wait a minute

so hot i love her

kill, my queen

WILHELM SCREAM!

i love the disgust and annoyance that immediately overtakes her face when neal shows up again

are we ever going to talk about how neal was trying to snap her neck or no

no? okay

it would have been really funny if that crackle rod was set to lethal

i love how she says "zackivy" as one cohesive unit

pls carmen looks so short next to cracker

sharon muthu is such a queen

love also how carmen is more concerned about gray recognizing the voice than bellum threatening to take out auckland. yes girl priorities

fantastic shot of her grinning and then getting all smirky about it. she's so hot. again

michael put his whole pussy into that scream/crikey

"it won't blow up in our faces will it?" "um just. stick your hands in there okay"

i love when cs uses "bad" colors like the red flashing warning light to indicate goodness like carmen winning

the crikeys are killing me

THE TRIPLE SHOT OF THE TRIPWIRE PROJECT BLOWING UP IS SO ICONIC

i love neal going from horrified at the explosion to looking at bellum like. what did you just say

crying over how carmen just looks at him with no expression on her face after he makes a kiwi joke

and now a series titled "OW!"

thank you

also carmen does a WHOLE FLIP when she crashes (not doing photos because its hard to see) but she goes down on her neck, does a flip, and then slides in on her stomach

wow! good thing carmen is okay after crash landing in the woods due to something going wrong with a glider flight. im sure that won't happen again, and even if it did I'm sure the consequences couldn't be that terrible!

it would have been funny if he had died on impact im just saying

maybe he did and the power of carmen saying the wrong name brought him back

if the copyright wouldnt blow them to hell and back im a thousand percent certain they would have had crackle ask if carmen was like james bond

carmen: ill explain over that coffee also carmen: explains nothing

wow look the line that jumpstarted me writing fanfiction. my first fic was a red crackle fic based off of this scene/the afterscene of acme looking at the cameras and speculations of gray joining acme. guilty ✋

carmen vaporizing on the spot and leaving graham with thousands of dollars is a vibe

yeah vile didnt lay eyes him. yep

ALRIGHT FUCK YES IM CAUGHT UP WITH CS WEEKLY!! STOCKHOLM HERE I FUCKING COME ON TIME YES BITCH MY FAVORITE EPISODE

[medusaveneno]

✨Trending things/topics on tik tok and my opinion on them✨ lol I’m bored at 1 am and I’m scrolling through tik tok

Hair oiling ( Mielle rosemary oil amla oil ) ~ Every hair texture and especially bleached / colored , chemically damage and heat damage can benefit to hair oiling now it depend of your hair type and the porosity on which or what kind of oil you should use. Mielle oil isn’t the only oil good for your hair and for ppl complaining about it , it’s simply not meant for you. Amla oil is great too but if you don’t like the smell don’t make it trendy and keep your comments to yourself.

Zote soap /dial soap- it’s soap 😐 not that serious to sell out soap

Henna on hair ~ great to use 👌 and very beneficial✅ of used right if you 1000% sure you are never going dye or bleach your hair ( well until it grow out and you cut it off)

Any food sold from a tik tok ( pink sauce sold in Walmart ) ~ STOP BUYING FOOD FROM TIK TOK and the pink sauce still has its inconsistent coloring 🤢 

Tj max , Burlington, Marshall, Ross , etc ~ Y’all are annoying stop shopping there if you can afford or you often buy from regular stores

Chrisean rock is preggors ~ 😳😭 buenoo , good luck

Yt ppl renaming ethnic foods~ 💀😂😭 Google is free bro

Oil pulling- I’ll try it one day 🤷‍♀️ idk tho do feel like holistic remedies can be beneficial

Jenna Ortega - great actress 🥰

Shea butter- love it 💕y’all should mango butter I personally mix it with lotion right out the shower

Shakira new song - love it 😘🤌

Miley’s new song ~ love it too 😘🤌

Bashing scar girl (iykyk)~ WHO GIVES A FUCK??? Like we know let her be

Grwm~ yo I use love grwm when I was younger still do but it use be so chill and relatable. recently out of nowhere some 13 young girl popped in my fyp doing a grwm and omg this younger generation either A) grew up rich or middle class B) being young and relatable has changed and now it’s being 13 about to afford expensive skincare and products / tools.

Soccer players ~ we all know they are attractive we get it

BFFR ~ BE FUCKING FOR REAL

Period (miss use of aave)~ it’s so cringe when ppl do this lmaoo funny how aave is trendy but looked in a negative connotation of a black person uses it.

Bad bunny throwing phones ~ Omg 😳 in my opinion he doesn’t like being treated at a celebrity and or wants to be respect don’t just go up ppl with your phone in their face ask first

Yt ppl learning how to bath properly~ BFFR

Nurses having mental breakdown ( I think that’s just my fyp tho) ~ the health care system in America suck ass and not only is it hard for patients but the workers

 gentrification in nyc ~ bro it’s called the city that don’t sleep for a reason you can’t just complain about every noise you hear move out it’s not as romanticize as you think it is

Gentrification in PR 🇵🇷 : GET OUT GRINGOS 🤬

Yt ppl taking random ethnic goods : it’s giving Christopher Columbus pt 2 

Realistic food candle wax : please stop I’m begging 🧎‍♀️

Benito with that Arizona girl ~ lmaooo good for her Irdc

Anything pregnant and newborn - I’m so scared … terrified even

Fear of aging ~ idk as 23 I’m stuck in between.

Ice spice ~ 🔥🔥 love her

Brad mondo/ butterfly cut ~ give okay tips there’s so many hairstylist better then him btw the butterfly cut is a lot similar to the unicorn cut that manes by Mel made

Cleaning tik tok ~ so satisfying

Cooking tiktok ~🥰😘🤌



[yikesharringrove]

“Seriously, just bring me along!”

“Steve, we don’t have time for this,” Nancy snapped, holding another ruffled shirt out to Robin, who winced.

“I swear I’ll get us right in, and right out. We won’t even have to have fake identities!”

“No offense, Dingus, but we have a plan. A good plan, even. And we need you to stay here. Watch out for the kids. Watch out for Max.”

Steve was staring at Robin, his eyes huge as he tried to plead with her.

“I can help. Please, you guys. I’m always so useless when the shit hits the fan, but I can do this. I can take care of it.”

Robin looked at Nancy, her resolve buckling under the pressure of Steve Harrington’s puppy dog eyes.

Nancy sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. You’re driving, then.”

Steve grinned and gave a little cheer.

-

Steve was all smiles and swagger as they strode into Pennhurst, Robin and Nancy exchanging looks as he greeted several of the staff members by name, a string of bright smiles and hey, Steve!s following behind them.

He leads them directly to Warden Hatch’s office.

He knocked briefly on the door, grinning at the two girls when the muffled response called him to enter.

“Steve! It’s so good to see you, son. I didn’t know you would be visiting today.”

Nancy gaped as Hatch stood up from his desk, coming around to hug Steve.

“We’ll, I thought I’d come by and surprise her. She does so much better in Spring, you know.”

Robin had never seen Steve like this.

It wasn’t like his King Steve persona, the arrogant confidence that made up all that douche-baggery. It wasn’t even his usual goofiness.

He didn’t seem tense at all, and he didn’t seem like he was bullshitting, either.

And then Hatch noticed the two women behind him, and he smiled at them brightly.

“And who might you be?”

“Well, this is Robin, and this is Nancy. They’re my friends.” He winked at them behind Hatch’s back. “I’ve been telling them about how often I visit and volunteer, and they wanted to come check the place out. Maybe volunteer for a bit today.”

Hatch shook both their hands, turning back to Steve.

“Steve, you know the rules. All volunteers must consent to a background check, it takes two weeks, at least.”

Steve clapped Hatch on the shoulder, and Nancy remembered just what Steve Harrington’s charm really looks like.

“Oh, come on. I’ve known these two for years. They’re seniors at the high school. Robin’s in band and Nancy it taking five advanced placement classes.”

And Hatch’s shoulders deflated as he sighed.

“Alright. Alright, Steve. Let me get you some volunteer badges.”

And within ten minutes, the three of them were walking down a beige corridor, volunteer badges pinned to their jackets.

“Jesus, Steve. How did you do that?” Robin asked under her breath.

“Please. I told you I could get you in.” He peered into one of the activity rooms. “Once I find her, you two can head downstairs to Creel.”

Steve was looking into each activity room they passed, shaking his head and frowning, peering at each patient in turn.

The corridor led them to a large room, some patients gathered around a small record player, a few painting at tables.

Steve beamed, nearly breaking out into a run towards a woman sitting in the corner.

She was thin, her hair graying and whispy, reaching the bottoms of her shoulder blades.

Nancy and Robin hurried to catch up with Steve as he was helping the woman slowly stand up.

“Hi, Mama.” His voice was soft, and the girls stopped in their tracks.

The woman was in profile to them, clearly staring intently at Steve.

“Anthony?”

“No, it’s me. It’s Steve.”

The woman furrowed her brows.

“My Steve is only a baby.” She still looked confused, even as she reached up to brush a thumb over Steve’s cheek. He smiled at her, a big huge grin that made him look so much fucking younger than Robin or Nancy had ever seen him. She visibly relaxed, and patted Steve’s cheek twice. “It’s good to see you, baby. I was wondering when you’d visit me again.”

“I was going to wait until Thursday, but it’s so nice out, I think we should go on a walk.”

And then everything made fucking sense.

It all clicked to Robin. The way she could never get a hold of Steve on Thursdays. The way he almost never mentioned his mom.

It was all my dad is coming home tonight or my dad told me to reapply to tech.

This was why he clammed up whenever she asked why he never applied to any out of state schools.

Robin tugged Nancy’s arm, nodding her head in the direction of the stairwell at the opposite end of the room.

“Steve, meet back here in ten.”

Steve nodded once to her, and his mother turned to look.

She was very striking. Her eyes were the exact image of Steve’s, even her eyebrows and the little bags underneath were identical to her son’s.

Robin hurried away with Nancy, suppressing a laugh when she heard Steve’s mom ask if that was his girlfriend.

“No, Mama, that’s Robin. I told you about her. My best friend.”

Steve linked his left arm with her right, leading her slowly towards the door that led outside to the gardens.

She loved walking them in spring, when the flowers were beginning to bloom and the air smelled of rain.

She was doing well today. He was delighted when it only took a moment for her to recognize him. There are some days when it takes a few hours, some days when she doesn’t know him at all.

“How is school going, Baby? Have you asked your chemistry professor about extra credit?”

It was warm outside, and Steve was glad he didn’t need to fetch his mom a sweater. Sometimes being in her room here made him anxious.

“I graduated, Mama. Last year. I brought you pictures, and my friend Jonathan filmed it, so you and I could watch it together.” He led her down the worn stone path, passing by a large hydrangea bush, the blue flower buds beginning to poke out from the green leaves.

“Yes. I remember. You brought me your diploma.”

Steve felt like a fucking balloon was inflating inside of him.

She was having an exceptional day.

Her left hand was stowed deeply in the pocket of her sweat pants.

He knew it was curled and useless, her arm atrophied and weak.

They watched a large honeybee bumble over the early flowering lilac flowers on a hedge near the path.

She looked up at him, and his heart sank as she smiled vacantly.

“I’m sorry, remind me your name?”

“It’s me, Mama. It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” her smile turned real. “I was wondering when you would come and visit again.”

He always let his hopes get up too high.

“Today’s such a lovely day, I thought I’d come even though it’s not Thursday, yet.”

“How is school? Have you spoken with your chemistry teacher about getting some extra credit?”

Steve tried not to let his face fall. He didn’t want her to see his frustration with the circular conversations.

Especially when he let himself think that everything was back to how it was before.

He checked his watch, only about five minutes left before Nancy and Robin were due back.

He led them further down the little stone path.

“Have you been panting much?” He asked.

Her therapist had recommended art therapy over a year ago, and it had done a lot for her fine motor skills. 

Steve had several of her paintings tucked in a large envelope in his closet, keeping them safe until he had his own home to frame them in.

“I did one of the garden last week.”

Steve knew that painting. She had one favorite spot in the garden to paint, and he had three of her nearly-identical works of the view from that spot.

“I’d love to see it.”

She smiled at him brightly, the left side of her face slightly less responsive.

They walked back to the recreation room, and Steve deposited her in one of the large armchairs by the window, kneeling down to face her.

“I love you, Mama. I’ll be back on Thursday, okay?”

He patted his cheek, brushing her hand through her hair.

“You look just like my brother, Anthony.”

She confused Steve with her late brother nearly every time  he visited.

Nancy and Robin emerged from the stairwell at the opposite end of the room.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, Mama.”

She smiled at him.

“My Steve comes to visit me on Thursdays,” she muttered. “Do you know Steve? He’s my son.”

“Yeah, I know Steve.” He stood up, nodding at Nancy and Robin, clearly  not wanting to interrupt him. He leaned over to kiss his mother on the top of her head. “Bye, Mama. I’ll be back. I promise.”

And he would be.

He wouldn’t let the Upside Down shit take away his Thursday visits.

“I love you, Steve.” She smiled up at him, and his stomach did a flip inside of him.

“I love you.”

He caught up with Nancy and Robin in the hallway, leading them back to the car.

It was silent on the drive back to the Wheeler’s house.

Nancy was sitting in the passenger seat, and Steve could feel her eyes periodically trained onto him.

“She had a stroke,” he said softly. “Two years ago.”

Nancy gaped at him.

“But, we were still dating two years ago!”

Steve sighed.

“It was the day before Halloween. You and I weren’t in a good place, and then the shit hit the fan, and then we weren’t together anymore, and I just had to deal. I’m sorry I never said anything,” he swallowed thickly. “It’s hard. Some days, she doesn’t know who I am.”

He willed himself not to cry.

He knew Robin was trying to make eye contact with him in the rear view mirror, but if he met the reflection of her blue eyes, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his sobs anymore.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Nancy mumbled.

“Look, it’s okay. It’s fucking sad, but she’s doing alright. And-and we’ve got this Vecna shit to worry about, okay?”

The girls exchanged a look in the rear view mirror, and Robin reached forward to pat Steve on his shoulder.

[ratquesadilla]

3005 (chapter 2)

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem! mitchell! oc

word count: 2106

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41505768/chapters/105225681

“it’s an existential thing”

a story where the return of north island's resident player leaves a girl with a lot of influence in a predicament.

trigger warning for harassment and a little bit of violence in this chapter.

chapter 1 - series masterlist - full masterlist

----

when i was younger we would go to church every sunday. it wasn’t because we were religious or anything but carole thought it was good idea to force me and bradley to make friends. afterwards we would have brunch with the kazanskys and, depending on our behavior that day, bradley and i would get to pick out something sweet from the store before returning home. after she died i stopped going, but my sunday routine would stay relatively the same. instead of going to the store for a candy bar, i would go to the bakery for something sweet. church started at 10, but sarah liked being early so she arrived at 9:30, and ended at 11 so i had an hour and a half to drop off the contraband treats at iceman's house. 

tom was like my dad when i was growing up. i didn’t have maverick and bradley didn’t have goose so he was there to teach us everything we needed to know. when i was 13 he taught me how to play football, and when i was 16 he let me play with the navy boys. when i was 15 and carole was too scared to get in the car with a “reckless teenager”, he taught me and bradley how to drive. everyone knew he didn’t have much time left, but a lot of us were in denial. i saw how much pain carole was in during her last weeks, and i wouldn’t wish that on anyone else, so i was trying my best to make iceman’s final moments semi-enjoyable. 

when i arrived he was in his office. he was too weak and in too much pain to deal with anyone so he handed me an envelope and motioned towards his computer. “deliver this before please, it’s important” on the monitor. the words “captain pete “maverick” mitchell” were written on the front, each letter with a slight shake.

----

business around the base always slowed down around sundown. day shift contractors switching with their night shift counterparts, everyone else getting ready to go home, the heat radiating off of the planes distorting the sunset. i figured the top gun pilots would be debriefing so i headed towards cyclone’s office. 

“mitchell.” he said as i entered the room. he sounded annoyed, and he had the pissed off old man eyebrow thing going on. 

“cyclone.” i replied, trying not to smile. i respected authority but it was always funny to see him get all worked up. i was definitely mavericks daughter, no doubt about it. sassiness was in my dna. “i just wanted to pop in before i delivered this to maverick” i said while pulling the letter out of my bag.

“how’s iceman?” he asked.

“could be better, he’s trying his best.” cyclone nodded, silently acknowledging me. both of us knew he didn’t have much time left, and both of us knew without iceman there was no one to keep my father in the navy. “this is urgent so i’ve got to go, but it was good seeing you.” i said as i quickly left the room. i respected cyclone, but i couldn’t agree with his distaste for maverick. being around him too long always lead to us getting into an argument about one of pete’s rash decisions. 

i was used to the stares from top gun pilots whenever i visited the base. tom frequently had me deliver documents and other things from his house and the attention was fun. i never got involved with the navymen, though it was fun to see how far they would go to get me to notice them, but this time was different. the blonde “cowboy” from the night before had been in my brain for the last 24 hours. something about him drew me towards him. like how the moon was drawn towards earth. 

when i arrived at the hanger they were meeting in the debriefing was nearly over. stepping into the “room” (if you could even call an open hanger a room) i could feel the tension between my father and bradley. i could also feel a pair of blue eyes drilling holes into the back of my head as i walked towards the makeshift platform maverick was on. “that’s all for now, you are dismissed.” he said, mouth slowly shifting into a smile as he saw me. 

“dad!” i squealed, running to hug him.

“mallory!” he replied, lifting me up and spinning around. “you’re so big now.”

“god i’m not a teenager anymore.” i joked. “i haven't grown since i was like 16.”

“i’ll never get used to you being old.”

“you’re the old one, grandpa.” i said as my father dramatically clutched his chest.

“am i really that old” he cried out, pretending to break down in tears. time could change a lot, but it would never stop pete from his theatrics. we quickly caught up and i handed him ice’s letter. our conversation was cut short by him remembering the overdraft from the other night, and he quickly left to pay his long overdue tab. as i stood there i flirted with the idea of visiting the blonde pilot and the rest of the aviators in the ready room. 

is it worth it? i thought. i knew how navymen could be, especially pilots. i couldn’t put myself through months of no contact, which was only one of the worries that came with being with an active duty pilot. i must’ve taken too long thinking because by the time i got to the game room everyone was gone. boys are a headache.

the secret teenage girl in me must have taken over because i somehow ended up at the hard deck, for something other than work this time. i walked into the bar, the cloud of sweat and desperation immediately hitting me, and began walking towards the pool table. that corner of the bar was usually frequented by regulars instead of the top gun pilots that were currently inhabiting the area. Natasha was the first person to notice me. 

i met her years ago when Bradley was at top gun. i was finished with college so i was back at home taking care of carole. she wanted me to leave southern california, earn a bunch of money and be successful, but nothing could keep me from north island. it was my home, and nothing could change that. maybe i was so attached to the island because it was the one place i knew my father would always be able to return, we’ll never know. it didn’t matter if i didn’t know where he was, he knew i was here. 

Phoenix shouted my name as she ran to hug me. “oh my god it’s so good to see you!” i exclaimed. “it’s been forever.”

“last time i was here you were blonde.” she remarked, “and you had a boyfriend.”

“well i grew out the blonde, and we broke up a couple years back.” i replied.

“called it!” she shouted, reaching her hand behind her head to grab money from bradley. “no one in a relationship would be in a bar, alone, with a bunch of pilots on a sunday of all days.”

“you guys bet on me!?” 

“hell yeah we did. i knew that guy was bad news the moment i met him, i caught a vibe.”

“remind me to have you meet all of my future boyfriends, i need to see if your bad news detector is accurate.”

“oh it’s accurate all right, the girl bagman used to be with ended up being totally insane. i knew it from the beginning.” 

“bagman? what’s the story behind that one.” i questioned. my mention of him must have caught his attention because there was suddenly a very tall (very captivating) pilot eyeing us from across the pool table. 

“it’s hangman actually, and you can find out the story if you give me a chance. what d’ya say? save a horse ride a cowboy?” his southern accent coming out, especially during that last sentence. normally lines like that would leave me repulsed, but there was something about the pilot that made his stupid pickup lines work. his shit eating grin was quickly wiped off his face by Bradley “accidentally” hitting him in the hip with the cue in his hands. 

“next time you try to get with mal you should remember who she’s related too, bagman.” bradley spat out. he was obviously annoyed. my father was probably the source of that annoyance but i wasn’t here to play therapist. i wasn’t really sure why i was here, but listening to bradley complain about my dad wasn’t the reason. 

“oh i can handle maverick, what’s he gonna do? make me do extra push up’s because i’m an incredible pilot?” hangman shot back, cockiness oozing out of him as if he was a slug. 

“my father is the least of your problems. unless you’re totally confident that you can face uncle tom.” i joked. it didn’t matter how cocky he was, none of my boyfriends made it past iceman. hearing i was related to tom kazansky was like a punch in the gut for any aviator that tried to get my number, but hangman was doing surprisingly well at keeping his defeat hidden. “i’m heading to the bar does anyone want anything?”, the pilots all responded with various head shakes and no’s. i pulled up to the bar and ordered a vodka cran, feeling a pressure against my lower back.

“hey baby, i saw you walk in earlier. can i buy you a drink?” the mysterious man asked.

“no thanks, i’m not interested.” i replied, pushing his hand off of my back.

“what’s wrong? don’t you like me? i saw the way you were looking at me when you came in.” he said while grabbing my wrist. 

“whatever you thought you saw was bullshit, now leave me alone.” i tried to release myself from his grip, to which he retaliated by squeezing even harder. “i’m asking you nicely, please let go of me.”

“why would i let go? i bet you like this huh.”

“totally love it. do you do this to every girl you try to take home? harass them until they give in and go home with you?” 

“god why do you have to be such a bitch.” he complained. letting go of my wrist to take a sip of his beer. 

“i prefer the term army brat, dick.” i spat at him, stomping on his foot with my heel. my sudden attack startled him giving me a chance to get up from the bar and head towards the exit. oh my god how fucking hard is it to be decent, i thought. as soon as i was outside i ran for my car, fumbling with my bag to try and find my keys. why is there so much shit in here? everytime i thought i found it i just pulled out a lip gloss or a hair tie. anything but my keys. i was freaking out, plain and simple.

“you know if you were a little nicer maybe you’d have a boyfriend!” the creep shouted, hobbling out of the bar. “maybe that’s why you’re a bitter cunt! cause you can’t get fucking laid!”

“fuck.” i whispered. he was getting very close, very fast. “you really don’t wanna do this” i tried to sound assertive but i was fucking terrified. 

“what’re you gonna do? slap me?”

“next time, maybe don’t use your shitty moves on a girl from north island.” i said, kneeing the creep in the balls. “that’s for ruining my night.” he bent over, grabbing his crotch. looking up for a split second before i punched him in the face. “and that’s for putting your hands on me.” i reached into my pocket, finally finding my keys. 

“that was badass.” hangman shouted from the side of the parking lot, walking towards me. “you gotta teach me some of your moves sometime.”

“how much of that did you see?” i shouted back.

“enough.”

“i’m not doing this tonight bagman, i’m tired and i’ve sworn off navymen.”

“it’s jake.” he was 2 feet away at this point, and still getting closer. “jake seresin.”

“well,” i paused, “jake.” he was very very close now. “you can get my number when you prove you deserve it.” closing the gap between us and pulling him into a kiss. 

“i can do that, yeah” he whispered as i pulled away. i could feel his stare lingering as i got into my car. 

“goodnight jake. i’m looking forward to seeing you soon.”

[hyunsuks-beanie]

TXT when they accidentally use your insecurity against you in an argument

A/N: So I wanted to write something for my babies TXT, and I'm a sucker for angst with fluffy endings.... So, here we go again!

Yeonjun

"I like this dress Yeonjun. And I'm not gonna change out of it, so cut it out," you huff, annoyed at your boyfriend pestering you to change into something else, something a bit less revealing (in his opinion). "Babe no, trust me. This dress isn't all that good. It looked good in your closet, but it's not looking good on you." "Uh huh, and why should I believe that? I tried it out in front of my friends, and they said I looked really nice wearing it," you counter. When he doesn't say anything and just glares at you, you ask him again, "Come on Jun. What is it? Tell me. Give me a solid reason, and maybe I'll change out of it. Although I think there isn't a real reason, you're just being overprot-" Yeonjun loses his cool very easily, and you just crossed the line by pointing out the truth.

"Oh shut up Y/N," he cuts you off, raising his voice. "You're wayyyy too curvy for this dress. It makes you look fat and desperate." When you don't reply, he turns around to see tears welling up in your eyes. It's only then that he realizes what he's said. He just used your biggest insecurity against you, and he can do nothing but watch you run up the stairs to your bedroom, crying. He decides to give you some space, but ten minutes later, he's at the bedroom door, unable to stay away from you any longer. He enters slowly, only to see you bawling your eyes out after having changed out the dress. "Y/N, baby...," he whimpers, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I know I'm a jerk, but I just want to say, you are right. I was being overprotective."

(Rest of the members are under the cut!)

Soobin

"Soobin, stop practicing and eat something. You must be starving," you smile at your boyfriend, who is busy practicing for a comeback. He doesn't reply, and after five minutes, you beckon him again. "Soobin, ea-," he cuts you off by loudly saying, "Gosh Y/N, stop being so clingy and annoying." You're taken aback by his sudden outburst. Your Soobin never talks to you this way. " Soobin I just," you start again, only to have him cut you off again. "Can't you see I'm practicing? Can't you see I have better things in life to do, than to eat with you? I swear, when I agreed to dating you, I didn't know you were such an attention-seeker," he says without turning around.

Needless to say, you walk out the door as soon as he's done talking, and what's worse is that he doesn't even notice. Hours later, once he finally nails the choreography, he looks down at the food, and gratitude and guilt wash over him. He tries calling you, but you don't pick up, and that's when he knows he's screwed up big time. He quickly goes home, only to find you asleep on the couch after having cried your eyes out. He wants to leave you be, but he knows he needs to apologize. So he gently shakes you awake, before saying, "I'm so sorry Y/N. This one's one me."

Beomgyu

"Beomgyu, can we please go out? The weather is so nice!!," you say to your boyfriend, who's busy playing video games. "Maybe later baby. I'm busy right now." "You're always busy," you mutter under your breath, which, thankfully, Beomgyu doesn't hear. He's had a hectic month at the company, and now that he finally had a day off, instead of spending time with you, he's bust playing video games. You are a supportive partner, you really are. But Beomgyu is being really thick right now, and you can't help but sigh. A while later though, you try again, "Beomgyu....are you done yet?," You ask excitedly. You half expected a cold response, but what you didn't expect was a glare from him. "Gosh Y/N, what the hell are you so loud for? It's giving me a headache, and it made me lose the game," he says loudly. "I-I'm sorry, I d-didn't know," you try to reason.

"I have one day off in a whole month, and you don't even have the decency to let me enjoy what I like doing? I don't like going out with you anyway, you're boring," he lowers his voice, but you still hear. Your shock turns into annoyance, as you say, "Oh I'm so sorry. I'll leave you to your stupid game." With that, you walk out the door, determined to not let your stupid boyfriend ruin your mood on such a nice day. Beomgyu decides to restart the game, when another player says, "Dude, did you even hear yourself? Is that any way to talk to your partner? You know they're right man, apologize to them." This manages to knock some sense into Beomgyu, and makes him feel guilty. He walks out of the house, knowing full well you must've gone to Han River. He has no trouble finding you, and as soon as he sees you, sitting on the grass under a tree, he comes up slowly behind you. When you're in his reach, he wraps his arms around you, whispering a soft "I'm sorry."

Taehyun

You like Taehyun. You really do. And so, you're always trying to find ways to talk to him. But he's been busy this week, and you didn't want to come off as too annoying or too desperate, so you decided to hang out with Huening Kai more. He's a good friend of yours, who knows about your crush on Taehyun. You guys have been fooling around for a couple days, and, unbeknownst to you, Taehyun hasn't been liking how close you two seem. One day, you went up to Hyuka, asking him if he wanted to hang out. Taehyun was sitting close by, working on his laptop. He gets jealous seeing you approaching his best friend instead of him, and before the younger boy can reply, he quips, "Y/N, are you always this desperate? First it used to be me. Now it's Huening Kai. Who's gonna be next? Jungkook hyung? Or Jungwon?" You're shocked at this, since Taehyun just called you what you had been trying to avoid being called. "I'll talk to you later," you say to Huening Kai, before turning away and leaving. "Dude, that was totally uncalled for. She's been hanging out with me because she didn't want to disturb you seeing as how busy you are. And look at you, being a total jerk," Hyuka says to Taehyun. It's then that he realizes his mess up, and he quickly gets up, hoping to catch you before you leave. He sees your form about to exit the building, and he jogs up to you before grabbing hold of your hand and turning you around. "Look, I know I messed up. I just got jealous, I'm so sorry," he says.

Huening Kai

Hyuka enters your shared apartment, and soon as you see him, you know something is up. He seems pissed, or actually, beyond pissed. "Hyuka, baby, what's wrong? Did something happen?" "Oh nothing much, just the hyungs teasing me like always," he says in mock nonchalance. You see through it though, and ask, "Why? Should I go fight with them for upsetting you?" You meant this only as a joke, but it's enough to make Huening Kai raise his voice, and say "No Y/N. I don't need your help! I don't need you to fight anyone on my behalf, I don't need you to check up on me, I don't need you to send me food. Quit being so nagging. You're not my mom, so stop acting like one."

You're at a loss for words. You thought that your boyfriend liked being looked after, but apparently, you were wrong. You feel guilty for embarrassing him, for being the reason he's upset. "I-I'm sorry, I promise, I won't nag you anymore. I didn't know you didn't like me looking after you. Sorry I embarrassed you," you say, mustering a weak smile. Even though he had said the same words minutes ago, seeing you repeat them makes him realize how rude he's been to you, when all you've been doing was looking out for him. He hugs you super tight, catching you by surprise. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out like that."

[raibebe]

Love shot

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff Words: 8.590 Prompt: Hockey Player Jeno feat. best friend Jaemin, love letters? Warnings: none..?

A/N: This was written for @woahhwa​ for the @kafenetwork​ kafeholidays event! Hi Ru! I had so much fun talking to you when tumblr wasn’t eating my asks! I hope you liked this and it incorporates some of the things you said you liked. Also. Warning: I know absolutely nothing about hockey so please bear with me :] As always thank you to @burtonized​ for always listening to my rambles and telling me that my writing doesn’t suck. Also literally no one asked for me to put Johnny into this but I am a simple woman and miss him and his gorgeous hair. I am sorry for this horrible title...

The red numbers on the clock over the rink slowly counted down, the last minute of the game beginning. You had your hands tightly clutched together, sitting on the edge of the seat as you watched your home team in the orange and blue tricots trying to defend the last push of the opposing team. Mark Lee - on the defense - body checked the opposing wing player, who had been pushing forward, hardly into the banister, causing him to lose the puck. Quick on his feet like always, Ten snatched it from him and took a sharp turn to avoid the second wing player, using his smaller size to his advantage so he could push forward into the last third before the huge defender of the opposing team tackled him harshly. But like the genius player he was, Donghyuck had anticipated it, screaming Ten’s name at the top of his lungs so the elder had the time to pass the puck on to his wingplayer. Using his momentum from following Ten, Donghyuk pulled both of the opposing defenders towards him, leaving the star player of the team - Lee Jeno - free right in front of the goalie. A huge mistake. With a mischievous grin on his lips, Donghyuck waited until the very last second to pass the puck straight to Jeno who didn’t hesitate even for a second to take his shot: Hitting the puck with all his strength, he sent the rubber flying right past the goalie’s body, slamming into the net of the goal.

The crowd around you erupted in loud screams and cheers, everyone jumping up from their seats and celebrating the last minute goal as the red timer on the scoreboard ticked down to zero, the loud noise of a horn mixing with the cheers of the students. In the middle of all of this you were hugging your best friend, screaming loudly before turning back to look into the rink where the other boys had buried Lee Jeno beneath them, hockey sticks scattered around them. The other team had already angrily left the rink, collecting their stuff to make their way to the locker rooms when the boys finally let off and let their MVP breathe. Grinning broadly they took their helmets off one by one, shaking out their matted hair and just like after every game, the sight of Jeno’s midnight blue messy hair took your breath away. Once you could muster up the courage to talk to him, you wanted to ask if he had dyed it to match the color of their blue and orange jerseys. But even though you went to every single one of their home games and sometimes even went down to the rink to congratulate them, you had yet to speak more than three words with their handsome center forward player with the 23 on his back.

“Let’s go down to congratulate them, this was insane,” Jaemin said before already pulling you down the stairs against the tide of people that were already leaving. A couple of the player’s friends had already gathered at the rink, cheering them on and clapping them on their padded shoulders. You could make out the University’s heartthrob Johnny Suh - a volleyball player himself - fondly petting his best friend’s head which made Ten smile brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the ice. A group of other boys from your year that you knew from a couple of your courses had rounded Donghyuck and Mark and looked like they were currently mocking the elder for his misplay that had led to the early goal of the opposing team, leaving their goalkeeper Yangyang almost no time to react. With a loud thud Jeno joined the circle, clinging to Mark’s back who cried out in pain from how hard the impact had been. The newest addition to the team, a tall freshman with the number 27 on his back, awkwardly shuffled on the ice before the team captain - Sicheng - pulled him over to where they were celebrating.

“Yooooo, boys this was sick!” Jaemin called out when he jumped down the last couple of steps before joining his friends who had stopped mocking Mark for a little while. But that wouldn’t be for long and you knew it. You had been their fan for quite some time now and knew that Donghyuck would not let Mark live and would bother him about it for a long time. “Watch your back, stupid,” you mumbled after your best friend who had been part of the team last year but had to quit playing for an undefined amount of time due to some issues with his back. He was the one who had originally gotten you into this sport which had led to your crush on Lee Jeno. So basically Na Jaemin was the reason you had the worst everlasting crush on a boy you barely knew and were way too shy to talk to even if he shared a ridiculous number of classes with you this year. But to Lee Jeno you must just be Jaemin’s weird friend he still knew from his childhood.

Slowly you approached the circle of boys, trying to hide as much of your face as possible in the bright orange scarf you had wrapped around your neck to shield yourself from the cold of the stadium. Jaemin was already retelling the highlights of the game in rapid-fire double time rapping speed, gesturing broadly and making the players laugh. “If you were to commentate the games they would probably be twice as fun to watch,” you spoke your mind when your best friend had to take a deep breath, making all of them stare at you which promptly lead to blood to rush to your face. “Yoooo, that would be such a good idea,” Mark broke the silence, his eyes wide, “Since you know all the rules and stuff.” “Also I wouldn’t be biased at all,” Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can’t just trash talk the other team during the whole game,” Sicheng threw in. “But it would be fun,” Yangyang mused. He had finally managed to get all of his extra protective gear off, his dark hair hanging into his eyes. “You should try it, Jaem,” Jeno also agreed. “I’d rather join you on the ice, you know,” your best friend mumbled, shooting the rink a longing gaze. “You’ll be back with us in no time once your back is healed,” Sicheng smiled, patting him on the shoulder with his still gloved hand, “Just give me a call and I’ll unlock the rink for you to make a couple of rounds.” “What am I, a short track athlete?” Jaemin grumbled but nodded his head anyways. He had been an amazing sprinter until he had exchanged the goggles and tight suits for heavy padding and a stick some time in high school.

“What’s this gloomy atmosphere? We won guys!” Ten shouted over from where he had been talking to Johnny and some other upperclassman, “Let’s get out of these uniforms and have some food to celebrate, Sicheng is paying.” “I am what?” The team captain protested but his complaints were lost in the cheers of the younger members of the team who quickly scrambled to get to the lockers to shower and change, their stomachs always bottomless holes after an intense game. “Let’s go home then,” Jaemin suggested, raking a hand through his caramel hair. You could tell he was still sad about not being able to be with his boys but he made an effort to hide his inner struggle. “Jaem!” A voice called you back when you turned to climb up the stairs and Lee Jeno skidded effortlessly over the ice to roughly collide with the side of the rink again. “You know you can join us, right?” A smile spread over your friend’s lips but he shook his head. “I can’t leave this one all to herself.” “The more the merrier,” Jeno just answered, looking you straight in the eye which lead to your heart missing a beat or two. He was covered in sweat and his hair was matted to his head, he should not have looked this attractive to you with his stupid half-moon eye smile and mole beneath his right eye. “I- I don’t want to mess up your all-boys time,” you tried to politely decline, scolding yourself for stuttering like this. You did not need to make an even bigger fool out of yourself. “It’s fine, really. Mark’s girlfriend is probably going to join us as well,” Jeno reassured you, “I’ll see you two outside!” He quickly added before crossing the rink again to disappear into the lockers, not leaving you two any more chance to decline.

“We’re not going to say no to a free meal, are we?” Jaemin grinned. “Wipe that grin off your face Nana,” you grumbled, scolding yourself for going for comfortable and warm clothes instead of pretty ones. What would Jeno think of you in your oversized blue hoodie and orange scarf? “Stop stressing, I can hear you thinking,” your friend whined, pulling you out of the by now empty stadium. “I look like a potato.” “No you don’t. You look fine. Jeno is not into the whole dolled up thing anyways.”  Slapping his arm hard, you looked around if any of the players had already changed and overheard his comment. “You better keep your mouth shut, Na Jaemin or may god have mercy over you,” you hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he innocently blinked his eyes at you. “Na Jaemin, I swear to god. If you make me look like a fool in front of my crush that I should have never admitted to you, I WILL make you regret it.” “You don’t need me to make a fool out of yourself,” your best friend laughed, just barely dodging the punches you threw at him.

“Please be nice,” you whispered when the boys came out from the locker after a couple of minutes, their hair still damp from the shower they must have taken, their bags slung over their shoulders. Pictures of what a certain forward player must look like beneath his heavy padding and jersey flooded your mind for a second and you had to fight the heat that threatened to creep up on your cheeks. Mark’s girlfriend who had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and who you two had already told about the game, raced to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms, giggling loudly when he almost toppled over from being thrown off balance. Somehow that image tugged at your heart and you wished that one day when you were finally not too shy to talk to Jeno, this could be the two of you.

Dinner was filled with a lot of loud laughter and just mildly annoyed waiters at the restaurant that had the best hot pot in town or so Sicheng claimed. But you really couldn’t even blame the poor waitress that had to deal with the hyped up hockey players. You mostly kept quiet, listening to their bickering and their stories. Donghyuck only retold how Mark had messed up in today’s game about three more times until he earned himself a rather hard slap to the back of his head from both Mark and Jeno. During the whole time you tried to steal secret glances at the forward player, admiring how fluffy his hair got after it had dried and how his glasses would fog up from the heat of the food until he took them off with an adorable but also really annoyed huff, stuffing them into the pocket of his neon green hoodie that should have looked ridiculous but he could pull it off. At this point you thought that he would look good in a plastic bag. God you really had it bad for him.

“Alright children, it’s bed time,” Ten exclaimed after everyone’s bellies were full, clapping his hands, “We should leave quickly so Sicheng can pay for the meal.” The team captain just sighed and leaned back in his seat while the others quickly shuffled around to sort out their bags and their jackets to hurry out of the restaurant, muttering words of thanks to Sicheng. You felt bad for him and lingered behind for a little before pressing a note into his hands that he declined with a little smile. “It’s fine,” he shook his head, handing the money back, “One mouth more or less doesn’t matter.” “Thank you for the meal, Sicheng,” you smiled. “Thank you for your support, you’re at every of our games, aren’t you?” Flustered you followed him to the register where a woman took his card to pay for the meal. “I try to make it. Jaemin doesn’t like going alone when he’s not allowed to play and I really enjoy watching you guys play. Your freshman really did so well.” “Sungchan is really talented,” Sicheng nodded, “He is such a great assent to the team and he compliments Jeno well. He’ll give Jaemin a run for his money when he comes back.” Smiling, you nodded. “I hope he’ll recover fast, he really misses you guys.” Taking his card back, Sicheng grimaced at the receipt. “We all miss him.”

Stepping outside in the cold, you were glad you had brought your thick jacket, your breath came out in little white clouds and Jaemin’s nose was already red. “I thought you’d never come back out, I am freezing over here,” he complained. Rolling your eyes at your roommate, you quickly said goodbye to Sicheng who once again told Jaemin to give him a call if he wanted to use the rink to skate for a while. On the way over to your apartment a little off of campus, you both kept quiet, each lost in your own thoughts. Even through your thick layers of clothing, the cold began seeping into your bones and you buried your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. But instead of the soft material of the inside of the pockets, your right hand came into contact with a neatly folded piece of paper. Confused you pulled it from your jacket and unfolded it. You didn’t remember stuffing that in there. In neat handwriting, a single sentence was written:

You look so pretty in blue.

What? You were so perplexed, you halted in your steps, staring at the piece of paper as if it would tell you what in the world was going on or how it had ended up in your pocket. Had one of the boys snuck the note into you jacket when they all had left before you and Sicheng? But why would any of them do that? What if... What if it had been Jeno? No, that couldn’t be. He was way out of your league and most definitely confident enough to tell you in person if he liked the honestly very much not special or pretty blue hoodie. “Hello? Earth to best friend?” Jaemin’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. He was standing a couple of steps in front of you, a questioning look on his features. “Did you just remember you left the stove on or something?” “N... No,” you muttered, shaking your head before shoving the note back into your pocket, catching up to Jaemin.

What you didn’t know was that would not be the last weird note you would find. The next one didn’t take long. You found it stuffed in your bag between your books on your second class of the day. Trying to not catch your friend’s attention so you wouldn’t have to explain the note, you carefully and secretly unfolded it to read the neatly written sentence.

You look great today, have a great start into the new week! Fighting!

Not unlike last time, you wondered who could have dropped the note into your bag. And when? Looking around the class you were currently in, your eyes caught on Lee Jeno’s midnight blue hair just a couple of seats in front of you. Had he been in your previous class as well? You couldn’t remember. But even if he had been, it was just wishful thinking that he had been the one to write the note. It was most likely a cruel joke someone was playing on you. Sighing you crumbled the piece of paper and focused back to what your professor was saying, trying to concentrate on taking notes instead of daydreaming while staring holes into Lee Jeno’s head like you had done way too often in this class. You weren’t very successful and when Jeno answered a question the professor had thrown at the class flawlessly, earning himself a couple of back pats from his friends that were seated around him, you couldn’t help but sigh. God, why did he have to be both smart and incredibly handsome? And on top of that a very talented hockey player.

A slap from your friend to your shoulder brought you back from your daydream to find the professor staring at you intensely. Shit. What had he asked? “Alright miss, I’d like a word with you after class. Now who can answer my question instead?” He spoke and you just wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

For the rest of the class you were just imagining all the worst case scenarios in your head of what the strict professor would scold you about. Would he make you do extra work for the class? Give you a bad grade all together? Or just humiliate you further? “Alright class, that will be it for today, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to do the reading for next week and hand in your assignments on time,” the professor dismissed the class, immediately finding your eyes to nod his head sharply to indicate he hadn’t forget about you zoning out.

Discouraged after the scolding you had gotten from your professor about dozing off in his classes, you climbed the stairs to your seat to pack your stuff to go hide in your room until everyone would have forgotten how embarrassing the whole situation had been, especially Lee Jeno and his friends. But yet again another note was placed right on top of your notebook, seemingly written in a haste and carelessly ripped out of its original page.

Don’t take it to heart, it could have happened to anyone. Cheer up!

Okay maybe the someone who was writing you these notes actually wasn’t playing jokes on you and actually cared about you. You’d be lying if the few words hadn’t made you feel any better.

Over the next few weeks you found more and more notes. Some longer than others, some just a few hastily written words. Some were just a quick cheer up to help you get through a long day of class, some compliments about your outfit or your hair and some even little stories about the day of your admirer. Somehow you felt like you got to know him a little through his little messages. You even dared to say you looked forward to finding more and more notes.

One time your secret admirer even left you a coffee on your table at the library when you had gotten up from your seat to get more books to look up some information for the essay you were trying to finish. When you got back to your seat, you looked around quickly to see if the admirer was still around. But you only saw more students perched over books or their laptops, typing away. Just when you were about to get back to your own project, a white hoodie caught your eye between the dull lighting and brown colors of the library. Below a mop of blue hair, Lee Jeno shortly smiled at you from behind his glasses, toasting towards you with his own cup of coffee and you couldn’t help but notice that it was from the same shop the steaming cup in front of you was from. Picking it up, you toasted back and took a small sip to not completely burn your tongue before examining the cup which just said your name with a little heart on it. It could have been just a coincidence that Jeno chose to get coffee from the same place your admirer had. The shop was just a few meters from the library after all but the way Jeno had smiled at you, not his usual bright smile but something maybe a little more shy, made you believe it could actually have been him and you really hoped that he actually was.

But today you hadn’t found a single note from your admirer and for some reason that was really bothering you. He had managed to sneak you at least a little note every day for a while now. And you still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Or when. You didn’t leave your bag or jackets unattended for long periods of time and it seriously baffled by how sneaky he must be.

“Stop staring holes into the air and get back to work,” your coworker Yuta scolded you, clapping a hand on your back on his way past you. “I’m sorry, I was lost in my head,” you apologized but he just shrugged his shoulders as he collected the mugs a group of students had left behind. “Exams?” He asked as he came back, putting the mugs into the sink. “Something like that,” you lied. You really didn’t know the upperclassman well enough to vent to him about how someone you didn’t even knew who they were send you secret messages and somehow they hadn’t done it today yet. Before Yuta could ask any further questions, the bell on the door jingled happily, announcing the arrival of a new set of customers. “I’ll go, bring those to the back,” your coworker instructed you. Sighing, you bunched up your sleeves to stack up all the dishes that had been piling up in the front during the time Yuta and you had been too busy with orders to put them in the big dishwasher in the kitchen.

With a couple of freshly washed cups and plates you emerged back into the main room to see Yuta flirting with the group of girls that had just come in to probably order some way too overpriced season special with more sugar than actual coffee in it. Of course only after they had been completely charmed by the objectively speaking very pretty foreigner with a silver tongue. Rolling your eyes at the group, you instead made your way to where the customers were sitting to check if anyone new had come in while you were in the back. After most classes were over for the day, the cozy café usually filled up with students pretty fast; either to relax for a little before going to the library or to discuss group projects.

Today was no different and you easily spotted a group of boys from one of your courses squished together in one of the booths, your best friend smiling brightly at you when he saw you approach. “My favorite waitress is working,” he spoke, awkwardly hugging your waist from his sitting position. “You just want my employee discount,” you fondly rolled your eyes at a now pouting Jaemin, “So what can I get you.” You quickly collected all the boy’s orders including Jaemin’s horrendous deathpresso. “Oh, add another iced Americano, someone is still missing,” Donghyuck called after you when you had confirmed their orders, a knowing smirk on his lips. Quickly scribbling another one on your little notepad, you didn’t look where you were going and suddenly collided with a very solid chest and you were pretty sure you would have fallen if it was not for the customer’s quick reflexes. So instead of on the floor, you found yourself pressed against his chest, his perfume clouding your senses. “Careful where you’re going,” he said and you could already tell that your eyes would meet ones with the color of molten amber, hidden behind a cute pair of round glasses, before you even looked up to see Lee Jeno’s smile. “You... You too,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up, quickly scrambling back a step. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking you up and down once. “Yeah, I was just taking your orders, I’ll be right back,” you tried to smile while trying to tell your heart to stop beating like you had just ran a marathon. “I’ll help you carry, we’re quite a few people.” “No, it’s fine really,” you quickly declined, “This is my job after all. “I feel bad for running into you though, let me help,” Jeno insisted, a slight pout on his lips that you really could not resist. When you ended up nodding, his whole face lit up with his famous eye smile and your insides might have just melted a little. While he was quickly putting his bag down and greeting his friends, you busied yourself with the orders. Yuta was still no help whatsoever, telling one of the girls an obnoxious story of how he had ended up at a university in Korea. You barely held back your laugh when the girls gasped, their eyes glued to Yuta. The story might have been impressive to you if you hadn’t heard it about 30 times already, always a little different but always pretty far from the actual truth.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jeno ripped your attention from your coworker when he leaned against the counter to watch you work the big coffee machine. “I was working in a different shop a little off campus before,” you smiled, focusing on pouring the milk into one of the cups of coffee to form a pretty picture. “You’re really good at making them look pretty,” Jeno complimented you, his cheeks tinted a rosy color. “It’s just practice,” you mumbled, hiding your own shyness behind the counter to quickly grab the cake slices the boys had ordered. An awkward silence hung over the two of you while you worked on finishing the other drink orders (it always took a ridiculous amount of time to make Jaemin’s) and your brain ran on overdrive trying to come up with a topic to talk to Jeno to fill up the silence while willing your hands to not shake and make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Do... Do you work between classes?” You chose to ask in the end, scolding yourself immediately for asking what must be the most lame, basic question ever. “I hardly have time between classes and practice,” Jeno explained nonetheless, scrunching his nose adorably to push up his glasses,” I’m here on a scholarship so I have to show results in hockey or I’ll be out.” “Ooh, I didn’t know that. But you’re really good so it shouldn’t be a surprise,” you spoke your mind before you could think about the words but as soon as it registered, your face immediately was heating up. Jeno just laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not bad I guess. It’s just a lot of practice, it’s nothing special,” he mirrored the words you had said earlier, an easy smile on his lips. “Even I can see you have an unfair amount of talent for hockey, Jeno.” At that he barked out a short laugh. “You should have seen me when I stood on the ice for the first time, I couldn’t even skate in a straight line without falling on my ass, no idea what the scouts saw in me when they talked to my mum to recruit me.” “I bet you’re just being modest,” you argued. “I am not I swear,” he laughed, “I was really bad but I trained a lot so I could make the team. I’m not like Donghyuck who can just skip half of practice because he’s hungover. I have to work for it.” “That makes it even more admirable,” you mumbled, not able to look him in the eye when you spoke the words even though you meant them with all your heart. “Th- Thank you,” Jeno stuttered and when you looked up at his face again, you could see that his ears were bright red. “I mean it,” you smiled and when he finally met your eyes you couldn’t help but get lost in his for a while.

“And you tell me to stop flirting with customers,” Yuta broke whatever moment you just had with Jeno and shoved you from the spot on the coffee machine. “I wasn’t,” you tried to argue but your colleague just clocked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I... I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Jeno mumbled so quietly you had almost missed it, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a smile to creep onto your lips again. “We should bring the drinks over,” you smiled, grabbing the tray that held the drinks so Jeno could take the one with the cakes. “Ye... Yeah, orders, drinks, sure,” he stuttered, grabbing the second tray and following you through the café back over to where his friends were seated. “I thought you would never come back,” Jaemin already whined, grabbing his deathpresso off of your tray. “It takes a while to make eight freaking extra shots of espresso,” you scolded your best friend while giving out the rest of the orders to the other boys who all agreed, joining in on telling Jaemin how unhealthy his coffee drinking habits were. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled politely when everyone had gotten their respective drinks, leaving the boys to banter playfully.

Over the course of your shift, the boys stayed to study and ordered another round of hot drinks before they left just shy of the ending of your shift. Jeno threw you another shy smile and a little sweater pawed wave when they left the shop that almost send you into cardiac arrest. “I’ll clean that table and then head out,” you announced to Yuta who was glued to his phone, checking his twitter feed. Among the chaos of used napkins and dishes, you found a neatly folded piece of paper with your name neatly written on it, a little heart drawn in the corner that set you own one racing again. You quickly put it in your pocket and cleared the rest of the table, all but throwing the dishes into the dishwasher at the back so you could get out of your apron and take a look at the note your secret admirer had left. While you were changing into your warm jacket, you couldn’t help but to think and to hope that Jeno had left it for you. After all he had been at both the gatherings that had led to you finding these notes and he also shared lot of classes with you where he could technically have slipped you a note or two. And on top of that he had also been at the library when the coffee incident happened.

Once you stepped out of the café and into the cool air of the early evening, you sat down on one of the benches surrounding the building to read the little note in peace.

You look so cute when you’re concentrating on making pretty latte art, did you know that? I loved the little talk we had but I am too shy to talk to you. Can you tell by these notes? My friends all make fun of me for writing cheesy notes instead of manning up to actually talk to you. I don’t even know if you would want to meet me. But if you want to, then meet me at the ice rink tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be waiting for you there, I promise.

You couldn’t hold in the little shriek of joy that made its way past your lips. It had to be Jeno. It couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be him. Holding the little note close to your furiously beating heart, you smiled and kicked your legs in joy before storing it carefully into your bag. Jaemin better be ready to help you choose an outfit for tomorrow and listen to you whine without asking too many questions about who you were actually going to meet.

When you arrived at the stadium the next day, clutching the note tightly in your hand, you double checked the time and carefully looked around before you tried to open the front door which to your surprise was actually unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you went in, closing the door firmly behind you before walking up to the second door that would take you to the bleachers. Slowly you pulled it open as well, hoping it wouldn’t make too much noise. The rink itself was just dimly lit, most of the lights turned off and on the ice there was a single figure skating around the perimeter, seemingly lost in their thoughts while aimlessly taking sharp turns that send pieces of ice flying, making the skids screech. You would have recognized that person between hundreds of other skaters, the midnight blue hair easily giving him away.

Jeno seemingly hadn’t noticed you yet and it gave you time to sort out your racing heart and thoughts. Had it really been him to write you all the sweet notes that you had begun to collect in a little box you hid from Jaemin in a box beneath your bed? Or was the universe playing a prank on you and it was just a coincidence that he was practicing right now, alone at night. But then again no one else was around and he really wasn’t dressed for practice, just wearing one of his big hoodies and jeans. It had to be his notes. And thinking back on it, he really had been the only person who had been at the same places, the notes had been showing up. From the dinner with the hockey team to the ones in your classes and at your work or in the library.

Slowly you made your way down the steps of the bleachers, keeping quiet so you wouldn’t disturb Jeno who was still skating around the rink. Once you arrived at the bottom row of seats, you took a seat next to a pair of skates and a pair of sneakers that probably belonged to Jeno. Sitting in silence, you watched his movements for a while. He was captivating to watch: Seeing him effortlessly glide over the ice before suddenly sprinting forward only to come to an abrupt halt or take a sharp turn. It was beyond you how he held his balance through it all.

Suddenly he halted in his moves completely to stare at the big clock on the back wall of the stadium that showed that it was fifteen minutes past seven already before he sighed deeply, raking a hand through his fluffy hair. Was he nervous? Nervous you wouldn’t come? Just when he was taking off, his eyes caught your figure and he stopped again, a big smile spreading across his face that made his eyes curl into the beautiful half-moon shape you adored. While you were busy trying to remember how to breathe, he was skating towards you, effortlessly jumping from the ice through a little door in the rink, walking towards you. “You came,” he beamed, kneeling down in front of you after he had grabbed the skates that were still lying next to you. “Yeah I did,” you answered, still not entirely sure what to make of this situation. With how fast your heart was beating, it must have climbed all the way up to your throat and you weren’t sure if you could have produced a proper sentence if you wanted to.

“I hope I didn’t misinterpret all of this,” Jeno mumbled while he carefully undid your shoelaces before slipping them off your feet, “And you’re just here to tell me to stop being creepy and not leave any more notes around.” The way he looked up at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs tugged at your heart and you couldn’t find any words to tell him just how okay you were with this, so you just nodded, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the skin feeling way too hot against the cold of the stadium. Smiling brightly Jeno quickly prepared the skates to slip onto your feet and laced them up tightly, his nimble fingers working fast and efficient. “Is this alright? Not too tight?” “Seems fine,” you smiled back at him, experimentally wiggling your toes. “Alright,” Jeno smiled, extending a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shyly, you took his hand to let him pull you upright. On wobbly feet, you followed him to the little door in the rink, letting him step onto the ice first. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, almost reflexive reaching your gloved hands out towards him which he took with a gentle smile, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, tightening the grip on your hands. “Okay,” you whispered, carefully stepping onto the slippery ice, unsure how to work with the skates. “You’re a natural,” Jeno beamed when you finally stood with both feet on the ice. “I- I don’t know,” you shied away from the praise, wishing you could hide in your big scarf. “Hold on tightly now,” the hockey player warned before he skillfully moved his legs so he was sliding backwards, effectively pulling you with him. A little surprised sound escaped your lips and you clutched his hands tightly, worrying your gaze to your feet where you tried to stabilize yourself and keeping the skids up right.

“Don’t think so much about it. Look at me,” Jeno’s voice cut through the soft scratching noises of the skates. “I’ll fall if I do,” you argued. Also your heart would most likely leap out of your chest if you did. As if it wasn’t already beating furiously enough now that you were basically on a date with your crush and he was holding your hands. “I told you that I won’t let you fall,” he promised, slowing down his own movements until you came to a halt. Steadying yourself on the skates, you took a deep breath before looking up to meet Jeno’s eyes. And just like that time stood still. Under the dimmed lights in the stadium, it felt like you two were the only people on this planet. You got lost in the deep brown shade of his eyes and adored how his nose and cheeks were tinted a pretty blush color from the cold. “Hey there,” he whispered, tucking your scarf neatly around your neck where it had come undone, the gesture so intimate, it made your breath hitch. “Hi,” you answered dumbly and it made him smile, his eyes curving into the beautiful half-moon eye smile.

Before you could do anything stupid like coo hat how pretty he looked, his smile turned into a mischievous grin and he quickly let go of your hands to skid backwards a couple of meters further towards the center of the rink. “Jenoooo,” you whined once you had found your balance again, glaring to where he was making a couple of sharp turns, creating indents in the smooth ice and sending pieces flying. “Come over,” he called, opening his arms wide. “You just want to see me fall.” “You won’t, have some faith in yourself. Just kick with your skates until you gain momentum. It’s like walking just with a little more glide.” “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “Just try it. For me,” Jeno smiled, sliding a little closer to you and opening his arms again. Sighing, you nodded, balling your hands into fists before you kicked your feet just how you had seen Jeno and the other’s do a hundred times before. Albeit very wobbly and slow, you were sliding over the ice. A smile slowly spread over your face as you kicked your feet again and again and you weren’t even mad when you noticed that Jeno steadily moved backwards to keep you going. “See, you’re a natural,” he beamed but just when he said that, you stumbled over one of the indents he had created earlier when he was showing off. You already prepared yourself to meet the cold unforgiving ice, making a complete fool out of yourself but instead two strong arms curled around you to pull you against a strong chest so you were stabilized again.

“I told you, I wouldn’t let you fall,” Jeno whispered, his hands steady on your waist. “Thank you,” you mumbled, slowly snaking your arms around him as well until your bodies were flush together. For a while you just stood on the ice, hugging each other until your breaths evened out, hearts beating in the same rhythm. “I’m so glad you actually came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” You mumbled into his neck. “Maybe you thought all my notes were creepy.” “I was really confused at first,” you admitted, “I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t think of a reason why anyone would write these to me. I was waiting for someone to bring up the topic so they could make fun of me. But deep down I really wished it was you who was writing them and that you actually meant everything you wrote.” The longer you spoke, the more you felt your face heat up. “I wish I had more courage to actually ask you out properly,” Jeno confessed, his voice quiet, “I kept seeing you around Jaemin and then you started to come to our matches. And then we ended up in so many of the same courses and guess what you’re not only very pretty but also incredibly smart. And I guess I kind of developed this huge crush on you with your big scarves and hoodies.”   “Me... Me too, Jeno,” you whispered, your heart making summersaults in your chest and a smile spreading on your lips. Beneath your fingers you could feel Jeno chuckle. “Will you let me kiss you?” He asked softly and who were you to deny him?

Slowly you lifted your head from his shoulder and he carefully cupped your face before he leaned in to kiss you until your noses were touching. His bangs were tickling your face but you wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way and crossed the last few centimeters between you to press your lips against his slightly chapped ones. Like you had all time in the world you just stood on the ice, lazily moving your lips together only ever separating to heave in a couple of breathes of air and share a soft giggle before claiming each other’s lips again with hearts beating like one.

Eventually Jeno pulled back when you leaned in to kiss him again, a big smile on his lips when you pouted. “You’ll get another one when you manage to skate a whole round in the rink,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You’re the worst Lee Jeno,” you kept pouting, “You’re hurting yourself just as much as me.” “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” he smiled, snaking free from your grip to skate around you in quick motions. “Show off,” you mumbled underneath your breath but tried your best to copy his movements to fulfill his quest.

In the end he had been right, once you got the hang of it and didn’t lose your balance every time there was a dent in the ice, it actually as fun to chase each other around the rink even though you knew he was purposefully letting you catch up to him at times to steal more kisses. It still somehow didn’t feel real that you actually were here with Lee Jeno and that you were actually allowed to kiss him just like this. After what felt like hours, Jeno helped you out of your skates and you just sat on the bleachers cuddled up together beneath a blanket, looking down at the rink. “Are you going to see the match tomorrow?” He asked. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno just hummed, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears, this one definitely not from the cold. What was making him shy all of a sudden? “Would you... I mean... If you wanted to... Would you,” he stuttered before he groaned loudly and grabbed your hands tightly, “Willyouwearmyjackettothegame?” “What?” “My jacket... Would you wear it tomorrow?” He asked again, slower this time but still not meeting your eyes, instead looking at your interlocked hands. “Do you want me to?” You asked him back, a big smile on your lips. “I mean... I understand if this is a little fast but... But I’ve had this crush on you for the longest time and... And I would really like to show everyone that you’re you know...” “That I’m your girlfriend?” “Y... Yeah,” he admitted, shyly looking at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs. “Of course I will,��� you smiled broadly, throwing your arms around him to hug him close.

And you did. After you and Jeno had talked for a little while longer about everything and nothing at all (and maybe some more kissing) until you had yawned more than he found acceptable, he had quickly run to the locker rooms to fetch his jacket that he had promptly laid over your shoulders on your way home. In front of your apartment building he had kissed you goodbye and wished you sweet dreams before he walked away to his own dorm room that he shared with Donghyuck so you had found out. You turned the key as silently as you could so you wouldn’t wake up your best friend who was out cold on the small sofa in your living room, the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen illuminating the room. Shaking your head, you draped a blanket over the sleeping boy and turned the TV off before getting ready for bed as well. The next morning you had to explain why you had Jeno’s jacket to a screaming Jaemin at an ungodly hour but in the end he was just excited as you were if not more because he didn’t have to hear both of you pining anymore because he had promised Jeno not to meddle.

You slipped into Jeno’s big jacket when you and your friend where about to leave so you wouldn’t be late to the match, you couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deep into the collar until your boyfriend’s smell engulfed you like a blanket. “Stop being gross or the best seats will be taken,” your best friend complained, tugging you with him and filling the way over to the stadium with chatter. “There are so many people,” you exclaimed when you had entered the stadium, looking around for free seats. “It’s the highlight of the season, what did you expect?” Jaemin asked, tugging you further down when he spotted Mark’s girlfriend waving excitedly at your two. She also was wearing a jacket with the name ‘Lee’ on the back just that hers had a big blue 2 on the back and not a 23 like yours. “You and Jeno?” She excitedly jumped up and down when she had spotted your jacket and you could only nod shyly. “I’m so happy for you. Mark told me how Jeno kept pining after you.”

“What’s with all the Lees over here?” A male voice cut in before you could answer anything and Johnny Suh sat down next to Jaemin, not clad in his usual dark red jacket with his name and the 9 on the back but in a rather small orange one with a giant blue 10 on the back. “You’ll fit right in,” Mark’s girlfriend chirped, making Johnny blush and hide his face in his knitted scarf, mumbling something about how stupid it was that it had to be so cold to play hockey and how much rather he’d be in his heated gym. “The joy of dating Korean guys,” Jaemin laughed, jumping up and climbing in a seat the row above you, “Let me take a picture, this is hilarious.” “Ten and Mark aren’t even Korean,” Johnny argued, “But Leechaiyapornkul would have been a bit excessive to put on a jacket.”

The rest of his argument was drowned out by the cheers that erupted when the players came from their lockers, the starting 6 quickly rounding the rink, making a couple of sharp turns and going through moves with their stick. Being their center forward player, Jeno was in the starting team along with Sungchan and Donghyuck. On the defense, Winwin and Mark were checking their gear before the captain made sure that all of Yangyang’s protective gear was on right. In the meantime Jeno was searching the bleachers and you couldn’t help but feel shy before you waved at him, jumping up and down so he would notice you. Because of the helmet you couldn’t know if he smiled at you but your heart made summersaults nonetheless when you playfully put on the hood of the jacket to show him that you were indeed wearing it. You imagined him laughing before he blew you a kiss with an over exaggerated movement that made quite a few people turn their heads to see who he could have blown the kiss to. Before you could even think about hiding, Johnny gripped your arm tightly and hissed: “If I am out here wearing Ten’s stupid jacket that is way too small for me while he refuses to wear mine in public because he’s not some trophy wife, you will not hide now.” Not knowing whether you should be afraid of Johnny or laugh at what really sounded like something Ten would say, you just nodded at the blonde, straightening out your back. From the opposite side you could see Ten sitting in the exchange box, a huge grin on his face when he must have spotted Johnny in the crowd (which really wasn’t that hard, the dude was unnecessarily tall).

“They better win this game or I will be mad,” the blonde grumbled when everyone had sat back down and the referee had called both team captains over. “It’s going to be a tight game,” Jaemin filled him in, “The gorillas have been on a roll for the past couple of games. But I have the feeling that a couple of players might just try extra hard today, trying to show off.” At the end, he threw both Johnny and you a very over exaggerated look completed with wiggling eyebrows which earned him slaps from both of you. “Now shut your mouth, Na Jaemin, I actually want to see this game.” “Wow she gets a hot hockey player as her boyfriend and suddenly she doesn’t need my top notch commentating anymore, that hurts.” “Shut up, Nana,” you smiled, focusing back to where in fact your boyfriend was playing on the ice just now. And even if you loved to see Jeno playing, you couldn’t wait for the game to be over to be back in his arms to congratulate him.

[uvobreakmylegs]

The Sixth Floor Game

heavy inspiration from the Elevator Game, as well as the Three Kings Game and a little bit of Silent Hill 3

demon!Shalnark

Warnings: blood, death, kidnapping

The Sixth Floor Game is a ritual that will put you into contact with otherworldly forces and, if done correctly, can take you to a world that exists outside of our own. To play this game, you must follow all of the instructions that have been written below. Take care to remember all of them, as one mistake could result in death.

First you must enter a dark and empty building that has an elevator and only five floors in between the times of 3 and 4 AM. The only items you can bring with you are a fully charged cellphone, an item of sentimental value to you and an offering for the demon.

It is not recommended that you give an offering that bares any resemblance to that of a clown or magician.

When you enter the elevator, you need to ride it up to the 5th floor and leave the offering just outside the elevator doors and then head back down to the 3rd floor. When you reach the 3rd floor, you then need to exit the elevator and use your phone to call the last person in your call history. The game begins when you call that number.

When the line is picked up, you must say “I want to visit the 6th floor”.

Be warned that at this point you may hear strange noises on the other end, as calling the number at this time and place has put you in contact with a demon. It is possible to gauge whether the demon is happy with your offering or not based off the things he may say, if anything at all. Do not hang up on the demon; you will go back up the elevator when he hangs up on you.

There are three possibilities awaiting you when you go back to the 5th floor to see what has happened to your offering.

If the demon doesn't care for your offering but hasn't been upset by it, you will find it in the same place as you left it outside the elevator. You must then collect the offering, go back down to the first floor and leave the building.

If the demon has been offended by your offering, you will find the offering destroyed in some way. Leave the building immediately if you find this, as it means that the demon is angry with you and will try to kill you if you stay too long.

But if the demon likes your offering, there will be no trace of it when you get back up to the 5th floor. If this has happened, you must close the elevator doors and then hit the button for the 5th floor again. This time, instead of the doors opening again, the elevator will begin to move up, taking you to a 6th floor that shouldn't exist.

The amount of time it will take to reach the 6th floor varies from person to person, but it should not take longer than two minutes.

When you reach the 6th floor, you will find yourself in another world. Accounts of what this other world looks like also varies from person to person. Some have said that the floor they entered was run down and wrecked to pieces in some parts. Others have said that the floor didn't look any different from the other floors. Regardless of the state of the floor, the one thing that is consistent is a giant glowing red cross that can be seen if you look outside. You will see nothing else outside aside from the cross.

It is not recommended that you to try to open any windows or try to climb down the building.

You are free to explore this other world until you are ready to leave. It does not matter how long you stay in the other world. When you want to leave you must simply walk back to the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. It is possible that you may come across the offering that you left for the demon earlier while you explore.

Do not take the offering back; it now belongs to the demon.

Reality on the 6th floor can be distorted and you may find yourself becoming confused. If you find yourself entering into such a state, take out the sentimental item you brought and focus on it. It will keep you from losing yourself and allow you to continue as you explore the other world.

Above all else, while exploring the other world, you must never look behind you. Even though the demon may have liked your offering, he also likes trickery and will try to make you turn around to look at him by making noise or by speaking to you. If you look at the demon you will be unable to leave the 6th floor and he will keep you there forever as he has claimed you as his.

It is not recommended that you speak to the demon even if you don't look at him.

Regardless of the outcome of your offering, when you have returned to the 1st floor you must exit the building and you cannot enter the building again for any reason until the time is 6 AM.

If you have upset the demon with your offering, it is not recommended that you try the game again.

There is no reward for playing this game. There is only the experience of leaving this world and venturing to one beyond our own.

This game is dangerous and could result in the death of the player, so please consider the possible outcomes of playing before you decide to do so.

You finished reading aloud the instructions displayed on the sketchy-looking site and looked to your friend Farah, who had her hands clasped together as she looked hopefully at you and the rest of your group who had gathered in her apartment.

“Well?” she asked after a moment, “what do you think?”

“.... Why does a demon have a phone?” you asked.

“Yeah and what phone company does he use?” Cliff asked after you, “or do demons have their own phone companies.”

“You're missing the point!” Farah exclaimed.

“And the point is....?”

“We need to try this!”

There was a collective groan throughout the apartment. The other one in the group, Carmen, rubbed their forehead as they told Farah “you're our friend and we love you, but I don't think any of us want to repeat that time we tried summoning ghosts in a public bathroom.”

“This is nothing like that!” Farah insisted, “it said that we need a building with five floors and an elevator! I promise, there won't be anything gross!”

“Where do we get a building like that?” Carmen asked.

Farah pointed to Cliff.

“You work security overnight at that one office building, right?”

“Do you seriously think I'm going to risk my job for this?” he asked.

“We won't do anything bad! We'll just play a game and leave some stuff on the top floor. If the demon doesn't like it we'll take it with us. It's literally in the rules that we need to clean up after ourselves.”

Farah stopped herself, but you could tell she wanted to continue about getting a chance to visit another world. She loved the supernatural and those kinds of urban legends, but she never wanted to try these things on her own.

Carmen sighed.

“Is anyone else even remotely interested in trying this?” they asked.

Neither you or Cliff said anything at first, and Farah's face began to fall as no one volunteered. Then, when it looked like Carmen was about to speak again, you tentatively raised your hand.

“It might be fun,” you said. At least in terms of memories of 'dumb shit you did when you were younger'.

Farah beamed while Carmen gave you a look that screamed 'I hate you'.

With you willing to give the game a chance, the other two ended up conceding to do the same, and Cliff had been convinced by Farah to let you all in a week from that day when he worked at that particular building. With his shift being 11 PM to 7 the next morning, there would be plenty of time for you to play the game and then let him get back to work. As long as nothing was messed up by the end of it, there would be no harm.

At first you were rather stumped on what to give the demon as an offering. Farah was the same, but she ended up deciding on a horror anthology book from the 1920s. Carmen just got a shirt they had been wanting since they were certain that this ritual wasn't going to work and they wanted to spend the money on something that was useful to them. Cliff went out of his way to get a particularly creepy clown doll. He claimed that he wasn't annoyed by all of this, but you found yourself questioning that statement when he sent a picture of it through the group text. You had no clue where the fuck he had found something that unsettling.

The night you all had settled on was approaching and you still didn't have an offering. It shouldn't have been that hard, and yet you felt like if there was the chance that you were going to run into some otherworldly creature, you didn't want to half-ass it and make it upset. If the supernatural was real it seemed better to try and keep it on your side.

You found yourself browsing a few online forums where people were discussing the game. Unsurprisingly, most said that the ritual didn't work, and the few that claimed that it did had written some uninspired stories about how the demon had told them how they were going to die or when the world was going to end, with at least one mentioning the coming of the Antichrist. When you scrolled down to the end of the page you were pretty bored of all of the comments you read and you were about to exit the page when one particular comment caught your eye:

the demon likes bats

It was buried beneath the comments of others, and nobody had interacted with it. Common sense would tell you that this was just more bullshit, but it just seemed like such a random thing to make up. Nowhere in the instructions had it mentioned bats, and no one else on the forums had said anything about it either. The user who had posted it hadn't interacted with anything else and seemingly just came on to put out that little tidbit. For that reason, you found yourself wondering if their ritual had been successful.

You leaned back in your chair while you considered the information.

Bats, huh?

And then by complete chance the next day, when you were in the mall trying to find something because it the date you'd set for the game was only hours away and you still had nothing, you spotted something through the window of a toy store: a pink stuffed bat plush.

It was rather overpriced, but if that comment was correct, then it should be worth it. If not, at least you got something cute out of it.

Surprisingly it was Carmen and Farah that had been less than impressed by what you had brought.

“I didn't realize you wanted to offend the demon too,” Farah commented bitterly.

“Maybe the demon likes pink,” you responded as you shrugged.

Nothing more was said about it as Cliff opened the front door of the building. In exchange for doing this, he made the rest of you go about the building to turn off all any lights that had been left on which you all grumbled about but agreed was fair enough. By the time you were finished scouring the building, it was 3:13 in the morning.

It had been agreed that Farah would go first, and the rest of you waited in a darker spot of the parking lot while she went in, watching the building to see if you could spot her movements through the windows. You had pulled out your phone, as you were the last person she had called. It would probably be proven pretty fast if this was real or not if she called you and it went through to you, though Carmen had said that they felt it was likely that Farah would probably not call and just say that she had.

You checked to make sure the sentimental object you had brought was in your pocket: a small, stuffed bear keychain that you had gotten as a present from a childhood friend. It was special to you, but you didn't feel like you'd be absolutely devastated if anything happened to it.

Farah came out a few minutes later, carrying her book and looking disappointed.

“It didn't work,” she said as she sighed.

“Did you call?” you asked.

“Yes,” she answered, somewhat indignant. To prove that she had, she pulled out her phone and opened up her call history. It listed her last call as being made to you only a few minutes ago. When you opened up your own call history, it showed that she had called you over an hour ago.

….. Okay. That was weird.

Carmen went next, and it was the same story with them, as they came out a little bit later still holding their shirt. Unlike Farah, they didn't seem too upset.

Cliff went after, holding that creepy clown doll and waving it around a bit as he walked to the elevator.

It was quiet again after that. You, Carmen and Farah waited patiently in the parking lot while the electric lampposts around you hummed. Cliff had been talking earlier so you hadn't noticed it, but it seemed eerily quiet outside. Usually there were bugs or other forms of wildlife at night that would keep things from being silent, but right now there was nothing; only the humming electricity of the lot and the occasional comment from Carmen.

Farah seemed anxious as she looked at the building, her hands playing with the charm on her phone while she waited for any sign of Cliff. The thing with the phone history seemed to convince her this was for real and she seemed nervous about Cliff's offering. Carmen didn't appear to be the same way and seemed more impatient, who'd begun to tap their foot as they waited.

“Did you hear anything when you called?” you asked the both of them. They looked at you, and both shook their heads.

“It was quiet when I called,” Farah said.

“Same here,” said Carmen. Farah smiled at that.

“That means that it's real, right?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Carmen wasn't the best person to be around when they were tired and cranky, and you could see that Farah wasn't trying to take it personally. But looking back to Carmen, you noticed a slight furrow to their brow, and the impatient tapping seemed to have increased. At first glance you would have assumed that they were just really done with this whole thing, but as you kept looking, it seemed less like they were annoyed and more more like they were apprehensive.

“Cliff's taking a while,” they commented.

It was taking Cliff longer than the two of them, you realized, and you were about to try and crack a joke about him making it to the sixth floor when you saw the elevator doors in the lobby slide open, followed by Cliff walking out.

More like storming out, actually.

“What the hell?!” he exclaimed as he shoved open the main doors.

“Don't shout!” Carmen responded, “this is your job that we're not supposed to be doing this at, remember? What're you going to do if someone calls the police on us?”

Cliff ignored them, looking to Farah as he continued “are you serious? You want this stupid thing to be real that badly?!”

He was holding something that he then thrust in front of Farah's face. It was the clown doll that he'd brought.

Or at least, what was left of it.

It looked like it had been stepped on repeatedly, the body broken and the head having been caved in. One of the legs were also missing, you noted.

“You.... You think I did that?” Farah asked.

“Who else!” Cliff yelled.

“I've been here the whole time!” she shrieked back.

“She has,” you added as you felt the need to jump in, “none of us have moved from this spot.”

“Oh fuck off,” he answered, “I needed to return this. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe you shouldn't have gone out of your way to be an asshole,” Farah spat back.

It quickly devolved into an argument between the two, with Carmen pulling you back when you tried to jump in again. It made sense why Cliff was upset, but Farah hadn't done anything.

“.... Should I not go?” you whispered to Carmen after a bit.

“No!” Cliff exclaimed, this time at you, “you should go! Do this stupid thing, and then let me get back to my work!”

“You're not allowed to go back in for the rest of the night,” Farah pointed out.

By that point Cliff was done, and he stormed off to another area in the lot. Carmen motioned for you to go while Farah quietly steamed. It wasn't the first time those two had fought, but the arguments seemed to be getting nastier every time they happened. Best to get this over with so they could be separated and have the time to cool down.

You walked through the darkened lobby of the empty office building, your path illuminated only by the streetlights outside. There was something about darkness and artificial light that somehow made it feel more foreboding, more dangerous. Even though you were an adult there were still thoughts that ran about in your head of creatures that you couldn't see awaiting you in the dark, and those thoughts made you tense a bit. It was such an irrational fear, but one your brain wouldn't let go of. The argument between your friends had only put you more on edge as well.

The elevator doors slid open, the bright blinding lights hurting your eyes for a second before they adjusted to them, and you stepped in the car, pushing the button for the fifth floor.

Fifth floor, leave the offering, then down to third.

There were some bits of Cliff's creepy clown doll that were in front of the elevator when you reached the top floor. It vaguely occurred to you that the instructions said to leave immediately if the offering had been destroyed, but it seemed like Cliff had tried to clean up some. Though that made sense, since he didn't want to leave a mess behind after his shift.

You pushed away some of the leftover bits with your shoe, and carefully placed the bat plush laying on its back in front of the doors.

Down to the third floor, then.

You checked again to make sure that the bear keychain was still in your pocket during the ride down, stepping out when the doors opened after you confirmed that it was.

Now to make the call....

There hadn't been anything saying you needed to wait until the doors closed to begin, but you waited anyway. When the double doors slid shut behind you, you hit the button on your screen to call Farah, the last person on your call history.

It rang twice before the call was picked up. Just as Farah and Carmen had said, it was silent on the other side. You cleared your throat before saying the words that had been instructed.

“I want to visit the sixth floor. Please.”

There was nothing that said you needed to be polite, but you figured it couldn't hurt.

You still didn't hear anything from the other end, and that silence continued for several more seconds. You held the phone close to your ear, straining to hear anything, any sort of indication that someone was on the other line. The “demon” was supposed to hang up first, you remembered, so you were stuck until something happened.

“.... That's actually cute.”

The male voice you heard on the other end was unexpected, but you didn't get a chance to say anything back before the phone call ended.

You stood very still for a few moments.

That.... That hadn't been any of the others who were still outside. Unless they had gone so far as to hide someone out there and have them answer the phone when you called Farah and all of this was just an elaborate prank. But none of them were really the kind of people to do things like that.

Remembering the instructions from the site, you turned back to the elevator and got on when the doors opened, pushing the button for fifth floor once again.

If the demon likes your offering, there will be no trace of it when you get back up to the 5th floor

The ding of the elevator signaled that you were once again at the top floor of the building, and when the doors slid back open and you looked to the spot where you'd left the bat, you found.... Nothing.

That space you had cleared from the broken bits of that doll was empty, the white tiled floor shining in the light that came from the elevator.

….. If this was all just a prank by your friends, you weren't sure if you'd be able to trust them after this.

The doors closed once again, and you took a deep breath before you pushed the fifth floor button.

The elevator began to move up.

There wasn't a sixth floor; you'd double checked that the building only went as high as five.

You told yourself to wait until the doors opened before you jumped to conclusions. You'd need to see this “other world” before you could say for certain that all of this was real.

The website said that it could take up to two minutes, but mere seconds later did the doors slide back open.

Everything looked normal. Just another floor of an office building.

Or it would have looked normal, had it not been for the fact that everything was bathed in a red glow that came from the outside.

Clutching your phone in one hand and the keychain in the other, you took a small, tentative step out of the car, looking to either side of you.

The hallways were empty. Nothing jumped out at you.

Slowly, you walked over to a window.

In the distance stood a glowing red cross.

…. This was real.

This was actually real.

It was almost too much to process for your shock-addled brain, and you had to wonder if anyone else who had been successful had the same reaction as you, to just stare dumbly at the scene before you.

It then occurred to you to get proof for when you went back.

You pulled up the camera on your phone. Or you tried to at least. Of all the times for your phone to act up, it needed to be when you needed to get a picture so people would believe you. The app kept taking forever to pull up before it would close and you repeatedly tapped on the screen as you tried to make it work. Somehow you managed to snap a few pictures of the cross before the camera closed again and you weren't able to open it back up. The lighting and your uncooperative phone made the pictures appear quite blurry, but one would be able to tell what they were looking at. No doubt some people would claim that it was fake, but it was enough to satisfy you.

You checked the time, finding it to be 3:30, if the phone was to be trusted. You wished you had checked before you came up here, but it was a bit too late for that now.

You stepped away from the window and went down one of the halls, looking all around before you remembered that the site said that you shouldn't look behind you. Or was that only when you heard the demon? Regardless, you kept glances behind yourself to a minimum as you made your way through the floor.

Aside from the red light that covered everything, it looked like a normal office floor, filled with different offices and supply closets and nothing that was particularly interesting to you. The one strange thing was that the red cross outside seemed to move along with you, as when you would move to a different room you would still be able to see it clearly outside. You went back to the windows a few times and tried to see if there was anything else outside, but all you found was an endless darkness with no signs of any kind of life or structure. Unsurprisingly there was also no sign of your friends down below, though it would have been hard to see where they were standing outside anyway given the angle.

The red light made you slightly sick after a while, and you tried opening up the flashlight option on your phone. But it refused to turn on. In fact, nothing on your phone was working now, and when you looked at the clock, the time was still 3:30.

Either time was being distorted or your phone wasn't able to function properly. Given how your phone was acting earlier the latter would seem to be the most likely option, but you also weren't sure what the rules of this place were. There was nothing that said that this world was bound to time in the way yours was.

The website had said that you could stay up here for as long as you wanted, right?

You began to see things out of the corner of your eye, little bits of movement in the darkness that dared you to look at them. You did a few times, mentally slapping yourself as you remembered what the instructions had said as you were now desperately trying to remember everything that had been written so you knew what you could and couldn't do. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time as you recalled what the site had said about possibly dying to this game, and at one point you felt so overwhelmed that you thought you were going to throw up. You managed to keep it down, but after that you decided that it was time to leave.

When you started to head back to the elevator was when you felt a headache coming on. It was mild at first, but when you went further along your route to the exit it started to hurt more, turning into a stabbing pain that jammed into your skull.

Had the website mentioned this? You couldn't be sure. Where were you even going again?

You stopped at an open door, leaning against the open door frame to rest. There was movement from inside the room, and without thinking you looked over to it.

The bat you had left on the fifth floor sat in the room in front of a whiteboard. A whiteboard that had been absolutely covered in drawn on hearts and your name repeated over and over.

…. The website hadn't mentioned that.

“Do you think it's a good place for him?”

The voice you heard came from a few feet behind you. The same voice you had heard over the phone.

You needed to get out. Now.

You brushed your hand against your pocket as you tried to stand up straight again, still fighting the pain of the headache when you remembered the little bear keychain.

It will keep you from losing yourself

With that thought in mind you pulled it out and focused on it, and the pain seemed to lessen by a good amount.

“You've got a thing for cute stuff, don't you?”

The voice came from directly behind you this time, like whoever was speaking was staring down over your shoulder as they were practically on top of you.

Don't look don't look don't look

You pushed off of the door frame, the keychain still in hand as you power-walked back down the hall. The headache was still there a little bit but it was nowhere near as debilitating as it had been before.

The voice whined from behind you.

“You're leaving already? You just got here.”

Don't speak. Don't look.

It was following you. You could hear the footsteps that trailed after yours, keeping up with your pace and almost being purposefully loud. Sudden noises accompanied the footsteps, making you jump and urging you to turn around. It was a natural thing to react to sudden sounds like that and you needed to catch yourself a few times from looking behind.

It was trying to keep you here and you didn't want to stay to find out why that was.

You turned several corners and walked down many halls, and the elevator wasn't anywhere in sight. That wasn't right. You had made a mental note of where the location of the elevator approximately was. As much as the headache was still messing with you, you should still be able to make it back. You knew where it was, goddammit.

…. Was it just you, or were these hallways getting longer?

A chuckle came from behind you.

“You didn't think I'd let you go that easy, did you?”

You started to run.

You weren't sure how long you continued like that – time didn't seem to be a thing up here. Around you the halls extended, stretching out and prolonging your time in this hell as you turned corner after corner and you still couldn't find the fucking elevator. The temptation was there to look behind and see how long the halls had become, but the laughter that followed you kept your eyes straight ahead.

Turning another corner, the doors to the elevator came in sight, and you let out a gasp of relief as you ran faster. Just a little bit more and then you'd be free.

…. The elevator seemed to be was moving away from you, messing with you just as the halls had done before.

You could hear him breathing directly in your ear as you ran. Still trying to freak you out, still trying to make you turn around. He hadn't touched you at all, though, and you wondered if there were rules for him that prevented him from doing so.

The attempts to get you to look back at him seemed to be getting desperate. If this thing was getting to a point where even he was desperate, you didn't want to know what the hell he'd do to you if you made the mistake of turning around.

Despite it all the elevator was getting closer. Escape was literally in your grasp-

And then something in the floor shifted that caused your knee to buckle and you were sent flying face down on the flat white tile.

The phone and keychain went flying out of your hands and there was blood in your mouth as you bit your lip. Your head ached again, though you weren't sure if it was because of him or because you'd just landed on the solid floor.

You lay there for a few moments, catching your breath as you tried to compose yourself.

You then became aware of the presence that was standing over you. He was quiet now, but you could feel his eyes burning holes into your back, as if trying to will you to look at him.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms, you began to crawl forward, your hands searching for the phone and keychain that had gone flying and had vanished into the darkness, the light from outside now much duller than it had been when you'd first arrived.

Don't look don't look don't look

He can't touch you

He can't force you to look back at him

Just keep facing forward and-

A horrifically loud shrieking noise sounded through the hall. It was the loudest thing you had ever heard in your life, the noise so great that you felt the floor vibrating, and your hands immediately went to cover your ears to protect your hearing as best you could.

Don't you dare fucking look back

With your hands still over your ears, you crawled forward on your knees. It was slow and it had gotten so dark that you couldn't see the elevator anymore, but it was still progress. When your knee brushed against your phone you ignored it. Who gave a fuck about proof anymore? You just wanted to get out.

But you were still trying to keep a lookout for the keychain. It had helped before; if you could find it, it would probably make getting out easier.

You put out one hand on the floor as you blindly searched for your sentimental item, your eyes scrunching up in pain as the horrible sound continued.

For a split second your fingers brushed up against something soft.

You grabbed it.

Immediately after the shrieking noise stopped.

For just a moment, there was relief, even though you still had that noise ringing in your ears. But it took only another moment for you to realize that something was wrong.

You hadn't grabbed that bear keychain. It was larger and heavier.

Opening your eyes, you found that you were holding that fucking bat plush.

“Ah. You messed up.”

A hand reached from behind you and grabbed the plush out of your grip. A different hand was placed on your shoulder and you were spun around on the floor.

A fair-skinned man with what looked to be blonde hair stared down at you, one hand still on your shoulder as he waved the bat in front of you.

“You're not supposed to take this back, remember?” he asked as he smiled at you.

“No.... I didn't...” you trailed off.

“But you did, though! You grabbed and picked it up,” he said.

That wasn't possible. You had left that thing behind in that room that felt so far away now. But as you glanced to the side you saw that, to your horror, you were sitting next to that room again, the hearts still visible on the whiteboard. You were barely able to note that it had gotten brighter and that somehow the red lighting seemed less harsh before he was talking to you again.

“So you lost and now you don't get to go back,” he told you.

“No.... You cheated.”

It felt so juvenile to say that out loud, but it was all that could come out of you in your current state.

Strangely though, he didn't deny it.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, “I've never gotten a visitor as charming as yourself. When I heard you on the phone and saw what you left me, I just needed to keep you.”

He looked at the bat plush again and smiled at it as he sat down in front of you.

“Did you just pick this at random, or was it something else?”

You struggled to comprehend the question, and it took you a bit before you were able to blurt out “someone else said you liked bats.”

“So you mean you went to the trouble of looking up what things I liked? That's adorable. I love it!” he exclaimed.

You tried to subtly scoot away from him as he sat in front of you but you were noticed instantly.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked. The look he gave you was so innocent.

“I-I need to go home. I want to go home,” you insisted.

“That's not an option, remember?” he asked, waving the bat around again.

You shook your head.

“You cheated. I should be allowed to leave because you did that.”

He laughed.

“There's no rule against cheating. As long as I didn't touch you it was fine. Don't be a sore loser.”

“Fuck you.”

You spat out those words in a bout of frustration, trying your best to sound strong, but it probably just made you seem more pathetic.

He only hummed at that, just staring at you for a moment.

It had been getting steadily brighter, the red going away with every passing second and you were able to make out different colors. The purple and teal on his clothes, the shade of blonde his hair was and the blue of his eyes were visible to you for a few moments.

He set the bat plush to the side, and the world began to darken again as red and black took over.

“That's okay,” he said, more to himself than to you, “you're scared and that kind of reaction is normal, so I'm not too mad.”

It was getting harder to see him, but you could see movement about him, things about his body changing. Horns that slowly curled out from his forehead. The tips of his fingers that darkened around long claws that took the place of his fingernails. Large, bat-like wings that unfolded from behind him and spread themselves.

You caught a glimpse of his teeth in the low light, and they looked sharper than they had before.

Panic shot through you as you began to scramble away from him, but your escape attempt was short-lived as something wrapped itself around your legs and pulled you back towards him.

A tail? Oh God that was a tail.

He was on top of you, and he caged you in his arms as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “don't worry, I'll go easy on you this time.”

You tried to push him away, but he ignored it.

“Oh! Before I forget, I should introduce myself shouldn't I? I'm Shalnark. Nice to meet you.”

With that, his lips claimed yours in a searing kiss.

Your friends had been waiting a while.

Farah and Carmen stayed where they had been directly next to the building while Cliff hadn't moved from where he had stormed off to. Farah had been getting upset as she had become convinced that you were being an ass to her as well with how long you were taking. It was all Carmen could do to try and keep her calm.

Because of his distance away and how distracted they were, neither of them noticed the state Cliff was in.

They only noticed when he began to violently cough.

With Farah still slightly bitter from their earlier argument, Carmen was the one to check on him, asking if he was alright as they walked up to him.

Cliff gave no answer as he had begun to cough up blood.

Carmen's hands fumbled when they pulled out their phone to call emergency services, and they yelled at Farah to go inside and get you. The sight of the blood Cliff was coughing up had Farah sprinting towards the building, throwing the front doors open as she made a beeline for the elevator.

Carmen didn't notice it at first when Farah fell to the floor. Only when the ambulance had been confirmed and they looked back to the building to see if the two of you were coming out did they see her body lying limply on the floor.

Ambulances and cop cars arrived eventually, and both Cliff and Farah were declared dead at the scene. The autopsy reports later would declare that they had been poisoned. A thorough search of the building would find no source of where the poison had come from.

Nor did they find anything from you.

Carmen had told them that you were in there, but when they searched they found no trace of you. No personal belongings and nothing to even indicate that you had entered the building. When the search for you grew beyond the confines of the office building, there was still no trace of you. You simply vanished into thin air.

The case would puzzle investigators before they would ultimately put it aside for other cases that needed their attention. It would only gain some traction online when the files were released to the public and certain parties saw that you and your friends had been playing the Sixth Floor Game. For some people it added weight to their beliefs that the game was real and needed to be avoided. For others it was just a coincidence.

Regardless of what they thought, you remained a missing person that would never be seen again, forever immortalized by your unexplained disappearance and an urban legend.

[maizumis]

LOVE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE - suna x fem!reader smau

part 10: are we about to kiss right now?

summary: after years of not talking to each other, your childhood best friend decided to reach out again, how will everything go?

note: suggestive ‼️ yes they make out again, and what

series masterlist - playlist - part 11

"you really made me go up only for you to put mascara on?" the two of you were now on his car, his right hand drawing circles on your thigh while your head was resting on the car window "yes, and what? be grateful now you know where do I live" he slightly chuckled and your remark before gripping with his hand was, turning up his eyes to the road again

the silence wasn't uncomfortable and you were grateful for that, your mind was going one hundred kilometers per hour full of thoughts that were especially about him, does he have a thing for you? friends with benefits? or the toy of the year? on top of all his moves weren't helping to ease your doubts

"you wanna know where I'm taking you?" he broke the silence, you only hummed at his question without turning your head, too focused on the little things the night could give you, even if the stars seemed less bright than before

"We are going to Osamu's shop to pick onigiri"

the mention of your high school friend made you turn around with a huge smile on your face " 'samu? as Miya Osamu? damn, rin! drive faster! we need to get there"

"hey, you seem happier to see Osamu than being with me, I'm the one holding your thigh for your information"

"And you were also the one to take another girl on a date, let me be happy to see him, rin!"

neither you nor he expected that answer; you took his hand out of your leg and turned your head around again, taking what the city could give you with a knot in your throat, thinking if your choice of words was the best, maybe you should apologize about it after

"We are here, let me open the door-"

"I can do things for myself, Rintaro"

you walked out of the car, hugging yourself because of the chilly night running to the big shop that you supposed it was since it had the big letters of "Onigiri Miya" Suna following behind you after locking his car, confused because he didn't understand what go you to act like this

" 'samu! I'm here!" he told a little above his usual tone of voice, resting on the shop counter supposing his friend was on the back

"Rin, what are ya doing here" Osamu came out of the kitchen, drying his hands with the napkin he always had on him "ya wanna eat?- oh? who do we have here"

" 'samu!" you throw your hands over the counter to embrace him on a bear hug, he gladly took you in his arms, his head pressing your neck, taking in your scent, beautiful scent as he thought

Rin grow annoyed at the interaction, you two came to pick up onigiri and nothing more "yo, okay we can stop right now with the hug time, what 'nigiri you have, samu?"

the younger twin let go of you, glancing from the side at his friend that interrupted the best moment of his day

"a have everything actually, whatda ya want"

you were quick to react and answer, jumping as you were a child "tuna! tuna and mayo! please!" rin smiled at you excitement then wrapped one of his arms around you, taking his wallet out to pay his friend "okay then, give me three tuna and three more of whatever you want, samu"

Osamu went to the back, the sight of his best friend arm around you doing something to his body that he could quite describe

"Thanks, rin" you grew soft to his actions, maybe you were overreacting, after all, it was just a random girl, you were his all-life best friend.

he took your face on his big, volleyball player hands, taking in every little detail your face had to offer the world, leaning so your noses and foreheads were touching, your hand came on top of his to caress it, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

The owner of the shop was standing right in the door that led to the kitchen, watching the cute, almost cliche scene in front of him, you seemed so relaxed against his embrace, if only you knew what he was saying about you earlier that day

"Sorry to interrupt the cute moment, but your food is ready"

"Thanks, samu, how much is it, bro"

"none, is on me, go enjoy your night"

"rin, this 'nigiri tastes amazing"

Suna had a specific parking lot in mind near the shop, it was usually empty so it would be a good place to grab dinner with you "yes, samu makes the best, as always"

"pfffff- you remember high school? I was begging for his bent boxes"

the irritation you were feeling an hour before was now gone, happily munching on the tasty food, your left hand interlaced with his right one

"how could I forget?" he turned up his phone to play music because he thought 'something was missing, the lyrics of No Friends could be heard inside the car

"how was your date rin? tell me about the girl"

"It was shit, to be honest, she didn't let me land a finger on her"

you stopped eating when you heard those words, kinda happy that his date went wrong but also mad at his choice of words

"you shouldn't talk about her like that, rin, just let go and don't think about it" sarcastic how you should be taking your own advice

"I'm not thinking of her when I have you by my side"

"you want me to congratulate you or something? you better not be thinking of others while I'm here"

he bent down to make his seat go as behind as it could, you were confused to say at least, until he patted his lap, knowing exactly what he wanted; now your legs were straddling his hips, faces too close to one another

"Are we about to kiss right now..." you said in a sarcastic tone, expecting rin to laugh at it instead of placing his lips on yours "yes we will"

you needed to be careful with your moves, the space was so tiny, but the need to feel every single inch of his body was getting to you, your lips dancing together as if it was something natural, teeth clashing, everything was so messy so desperate, there was not more of that lipstick you applied before going out.

"you were acting all bratty out there and now your panting on top of me, how funny"

your hips were slightly moving with his, getting too drunk of the feeling of his body down yours- you didn't even felt when he placed both his hands on your ass to bring you close to him

tongues were fighting for dominance and the time around you would give up, you needed to show him a little bit of authority too "don't go too ahead of yourself, Rintaro- you're the one with a hard-on right now and you know what? why don't you take me home? is getting late"

you confidently got out of his lap, sitting on the passenger seat while placing the seatbelt across your chest, proud of your actions, you could see the tip osfsuna's ears red while he tried to catch his breath, starting the car again

"good luck next time, rin"

taglist [open]: @arrogantsonofabiscuit @sakusasbitch @souco @sunasexual @boba-duckie @discountkiyoko @shoyotime @sunalma @kuroohoeee @cubbluv @astrqmi @triniteaaa @zukoslosthishonor @iheartkuroorin @kac-chowsballs @akaashiwife @lilith412426 @loveprisms @eunoiwa @gladly-olus @its-the-aerieljeane @smackmyasslikeavolleyball @bakugouswh0r3 @mydandydays @erens-piss-cleaner @call-me-lulu @peachyaeger @omisemi @megumiisee @sakuxxi @almondeupeach @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa @whorefornoodles @togesslut @singularly-gifted-witch

[justhockeythings-blog1]

With You

A/N: So Two in one week huh? I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would! Also I decided to make my own collage to go with this one! I really really like this one, so I hope you guys do! Feedback is always appreciated!

Request: “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” with Andrei Svechnikov

This was not the end to the season that anyone wanted. You felt your shoulders drop, along with your stomach. Your heart on the other hand had shattered into a million pieces, seeing Andrei’s heartbroken and frustrated face blasted across the television. You sat alone, in your shared apartment, wearing the same Svechnikov jersey that he had cheesily gifted you on your first birthday together. You made it a tradition to wear it every game you watched at home, making sure to send Andrei a picture. It had become as much a part of his pre-game ritual as having Martinook scream in his face. You hadn’t expected this game to be the last time you got to engage in your self made ritual,

You could feel the tears brimming your eyes, if not from the fact that you had so much hope for the boys to move on, for the sad faces of all your friends and your boyfriend as they shook hands with Tampa Bay. You waited until the very last second where the Canes players could no longer be seen before you shut off your TV, sitting in silence. You didn’t bother holding the tears in as you let a few slip, this was your time to be sad about it because the second that Andrei called you, you had to pull it together. You needed to be strong for him.

You knew your boyfriend well, you had seen him at the highs of the wins and the lows of the losses. He was going to take this personal, he had been battling himself all year. Saying how he hadn’t been having a good season, how he needed to improve, staying late after games to put in the extra time. You constantly had to remind him to take time for himself, to not be so hard on himself. There were countless times that you would have to force him to relax, letting his body rest, knowing that he would return to a hard training regime at the next practice. This wasn’t just any old loss though, this was a Stanley Cup elimination game loss. You were going to have to pull out all the stops to make this one feel better and you had a limited amount of time. You assumed that Andrei would be going back home at some point in the off season, neither of you had really talked about it recently. Then again, neither of you had planned on a playoff elimination.

You wiped the last few tears off your cheeks and stood up, collecting the snacks you had laid out, setting them in the kitchen before you went to change. After you came back out, you decided you needed to do something to pass the time until Andrei called, and you began busying yourself with cleaning. It was a habit that you had when you were nervous, you picked something to do and you fixated on it, usually until Andrei stepped in to stop you. It would be no different tonight, the shrill ring of your phone pulling you out of your trance. You glanced around you, seeing the kitchen of the apartment spotless before you rushed to the living room to snatch your phone off the coffee table where you left it.

“Hey.” You breathed out, hearing a slight chuckle from the other end.

“Were you running?” He asked, knowing that it was far too late for that. You, on the other hand, knew that he was avoiding the inevitable but you could hear the sadness in his voice.

“From the kitchen, didn’t want to miss your call.” You explained, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. This was the first sign that he wasn’t going to let on how upset he was in the moment, he had called you rather than facetime you. “How are you doing?”

You knew it was a stupid question but you had to ask. If you didn’t make the first move then odds were he wouldn’t bring it up and judging by the sigh that came from the other end, he was hoping that you wouldn’t.

“You gotta talk about it Andrei…” You encouraged gently, settling back on the couch and tugging a blanket over your legs. “Before you get on the plane.”

“It’s hard.” He began and you hummed, another gentle encouragement that you were listening. “We really thought we could do it. You know? We had them, we outplayed them every game and it wasn’t enough.”

The frustration was clear in his voice. You had seen the statistics and on paper, the Canes had come out on top, but unfortunately that didn’t translate to the ice.

“I wanted us to go all the way, these guys are my family and nobody deserves the cup more than them, and I couldn’t get them there.” You could hear the defeat in his voice and it was like someone took your heart and threw it on the ground.

“Andrei… You cannot put that pressure on yourself. Hockey is a team sport, you all left it all out there on the ice. You did you best and the weight of this loss does not fall entirely on your shoulders. Please.” You practically pleaded with him before you heard voices in the background.

“I have to go.. We are getting ready to board, I love you. I’ll be home late so don’t stay up okay?”

He hung up after you returned his goodbyes, leaving you once again sitting in the silence of your apartment. This time though, the exhaustion of everything set in and you pulled yourself to go to bed. You left a light on in the hallway so that Andrei didn’t have to stumble around in the darkness, slipping into your bed and quickly falling asleep.

~

When Andrei got home, well past three AM, he knew that the house would be quiet but it didn’t make it any less suffocating. It felt like silence was the only thing he had heard since the boys departed the locker room, each one caught up in their own heads. A few of the older guys, who had spent a good number of years in the league, did their best to offer some kind of comfort to the younger men on the team but it was clear that in the moment it was half hearted. Everyone had wanted to beat Tampa, everyone had wanted to make it to the end and hoist that cup. It was their year and they had done everything right only to lose to a team who had a goalie like a brick wall.

He set his bag down by the couch quietly, having mastered the technique of coming home quietly after waking you up one too many times. He carefully made his way down the hallway to the bedroom, smiling a little to himself as he saw you curled up in bed, tucked into one of his shirts. The season may not have ended the way he wanted but at least he still had you to come home to.

Slipping into the bed, he was careful not to wake you as he wrapped one arm around you and quickly fell asleep himself, his mind shutting off for the first time since this morning.

~

When you woke up the next morning it was to the weight of an arm carefully laying across your waist and the sound of gentle breathing beside you. A setting you were very familiar with, but today you couldn’t enjoy it. You had a plan that you needed to get started on before Andrei woke up, which is why you were secretly praying that the late return home would play in your favor.

You glanced back at him, smiling at the peaceful look on his face before you skillfully wiggled your way out of his grasp, pausing on the edge of your bed to make sure he remained asleep. After a few minutes you stood up and grabbed his bag, sneaking out of your room.

First things first was to get his laundry started so you made a beeline to the washer and dryer you guys had, setting the bag down and carefully emptying the clothes, checking all of his pockets to make sure they were empty. There had been a mishap one time of airpods in the washer and you both had quickly learned your lesson.

You felt a small box tucked into one of his pockets, pulling it out and setting it into a small basket with other things you found. You didn’t pay any mind to it as you started the washer, carrying the basket and setting it on the dining room table where he could collect it when he woke up.

Part two of your plan involved slight rearrangement of your living room, a number of blankets and pillows, and a fully charged laptop. After nearly twenty minutes, including a quick peak into the bedroom to make sure that he was indeed still sleeping, you had a blanket fort all made up and ready. Which was the easiest part of the plan, the real trick would be getting Andrei into it.

You moved back to the kitchen, pulling out all of the things you needed to make a real breakfast. Not the coffee and yogurt that you scarfed down on work days. You started the coffee pot, humming to yourself as you carefully dialed Evgeny’s number. It was times like these you were thankful that Andrei had introduced you to his brother and you two had a good standing relationship. You cut Evgeny’s greeting off gently, explaining that you didn’t have much time before Andrei woke up but you needed to know how to make his favorite breakfast.

At some point during your phone call with Evgeny, who thankfully walked you step by step through a homemade breakfast that he and Andrei had grown up on, Andrei made an appearance from the bedroom. He stood back and watched as you worked, hearing his brother’s voice over the speaker.

He smiled to himself, it was no secret to anyone that Evgeny was an important person in his life. When he had first introduced the two of you, he had been a little nervous that Evgeny and you wouldn’t get along. Which would have left him in a very awkward predicament. Seeing you in the kitchen though, clearly taking instructions from his brother over the phone, stirred something inside of him. Whatever he was feeling though quickly screeched to a halt, a small jolt of panic ran through him as he saw the small box on the table, quickly grabbing it and stuffing it into the pocket of his shorts just as you turned around.

“Oh hey! Evgeny, he’s up, I gotta go. Thank you so so so much for all your help! I owe you one!” You hung up with his brother and smiled sheepishly, holding up the plate with your finished work. “Surprise?”

You clearly hadn’t seen the glimpse of panic that crossed his face, quickly replaced by a smile and a look of awe when it registered in his mind what was on the plate. Sure you cooked often, but it now made sense to him why you had called his brother.

“If it’s bad you can blame your brother, but I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, especially since I didn’t stay up for you last night.” You explained, pulling him over to sit at the dining room table and setting the plate down in front of him.

Andrei was speechless, which you had learned was a hard feat to accomplish, as he watched you fill two mugs of coffee, making it the way both of you liked it before coming to sit down beside him. You hadn’t brought up the game yet and he wasn’t sure if you would but in the moment he didn’t care, he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“So is this really all it’s cracked up to be?” You asked, watching as he took the first bite. You had spent twenty minutes listening to his brother rave about it.

“Yes, I mean maybe not to other people but Evgeny and I ate it every weekend growing up. Is this why you called him?” He asked as he ate, reminiscing with every bite. His heart growing with love for you when you nodded behind your coffee mug sheepishly.

“I didn’t know how to make it but I remembered you mentioning it. I figured waking your brother up and dealing with his wrath would be worth it.” You teased, Evgeny had never been anything but nice to you and he probably appreciated this gesture as much as Andrei did.

“Also, I hope you didn’t have plans for the day or at least part of it. I wasn’t sure if you had to do something for the team or not.” You trailed off as he finished eating, grabbing the plate from him when he was done and carried it to the sink.

“I uh, I’m not sure. I think they’ll text me if I need to be there but I don’t think I need to today. Why?” He asked, though you didn’t answer him. You just grabbed his hand and pulled him to the living room, smiling as you looked at him.

He froze, seeing the elaborate blanket fort laid out in the living room, snacks and water already inside of it with your laptop. Part of him wondered if you had done thing last night and he had missed it in his tired state or if you had managed to do all of this, on top of breakfast, this morning. Before he could ask though you were tugging him to crawl into it, forcing him to drop to his knees to follow after you.

“What is all of this?” He asked after you settled in the pillow fort, laying on your back as you smiled up at him.

“This is me forcing you to relax and take a minute to yourself. I know last night did not go how you wanted, how any of you wanted, and maybe there’s nothing I can say right now that will make the thoughts in your head go away. Which I hate by the way, you’re way too hard on yourself but I just wanted you to take a day and not think about the game or about hockey or about what you could have done differently. I just, I know it’s not a lot but-”

Your rambling was cut off, as it so often was, by a quick kiss to your lips. You felt your shoulders drop as his hands cupped your cheeks, melting a little into the kiss before he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“Thank you.”

It was a simple two words, but it was enough. It meant that he was accepting this, your plan to relax and just spend time together. Maybe it worked and maybe it didn’t, but all that mattered was he was willing to give it a chance.

~

The two of you spent most of the day in the fort watching movies, leaving only if you needed to use the bathroom or you needed more snacks. At some point the sun was beginning to sit lower in the sky and you both knew you would need to leave to make dinner, especially considering lunch had been nothing but snacks yet neither of you wanted to make that move.

You rolled onto your side, tucking your body even closer to his when you felt a bump against your thigh.

“That better just be your phone.” You teased and he looked at you confused before he realized that the small box that he had gotten well before the roadtrip was now pressed up against you. He sat up quickly, reaching into his pocket to pull it out, though you still couldn’t see it.

“Hey, I was just teasing.” You pouted, reaching for him as he chuckled and shifted to look at you. It was then you caught a glimpse of a familiar sized box and you found yourself sitting quickly to look at him.

“Andrei…” You began softly, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him but you two were both fairly young and had never discussed the prospect of marriage before.

“No! No, I mean. It’s not what you’re thinking, not yet.” He rushed to explain, his accent forcing the words to run together. It was something you had picked up, whenever he was angry or excited, his accent made it hard to differentiate what he was saying.

Instead of continuing his explanation, he opened the box to show you the very thin band, with three tiny diamonds in it. You could feel the breath leave your throat as you stared at it. It was beautiful, there was no doubt in your mind about that and it was your style. Simple, understated, something that you could wear with anything and it would never look out of place.

“So if not… that, then what is this?” You asked confused, looking up at him again with nervous eyes.

“It’s a promise and you don’t have to think of it as anything more than that. No other strings okay? I just. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know we haven’t talked about it before, but I wanted to make you the promise that one day, it’ll be a different ring and I had hoped to do it after a winning game, but this… I think this is much better.” He explained quietly, keeping his eyes on the ring, watching as you carefully pulled it out of the box.

This was not at all how he had planned on doing this, in his mind it was much smoother. It was after a winning game, probably not in your living room, and he also wouldn’t be stumbling over his words and half tempted to switch back to Russian. Despite all that though, he didn’t want to wait any longer and there was no taking it back now that it was out there.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you too.” You smiled, carefully slipping it on your right ring finger for now and smiling up at him. “ Don’t want to give people too many ideas now do we?”

You heard him chuckle before leaning down to kiss you again. The game may not have gone how you two wanted, the season may have ended early, but one thing was certain for the both of you.

You had each other, now and for the rest of your lives.

[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 :)

[arcadejohn127-9]

Hii 👋 😁 okay so I'd like to request a valentines date with the brothers and newdatebales but while they are on the date MCs ex who is a complete jerk interrupts their nice time and MCs date makes the ex pay for being so rude. Happy Valentines Day! 💝

Happy valentine's! Ugh exes really can be a pain! I'd fist fight my ex for a stick of gum, no hesitation

Sorry this took so long, I've been asleep for most of the day

Pt.2 = undateables (minus Luke)

Context: you decided to go to the human world for your date

Lucifer:

Restaurant! Always - it's a classic

It was fairly lavish, Everyone was in suits or dresses, the place seemed to glitter from how polished it all was

A small classical band in the back

"I'm having a lovely time, I hope it's all to your liking."

"definitely is, though if you were the one playing the piano I'd make it even better."

"I'll keep that in mind for later."

He smirked, taking a sip of his wine whilst you just beamed

You two have been waiting month's for this renovation and you glad you were able to get it in on Valentines

"Oh! (Y/N) been ages- didn't expect you to be here, who's your friend?"

Your stomach dropped

Your ex just smiled at you two, leaning on your seat

"boyfriend."

"no! No way! You're dating?! I heard you were so broken after our breakup, so glad you were finally able to move on, must of been hard."

"Will you leave? I'm trying to enjoy myself-"

Lucifer glared at them, shifting in his seat incase he had to settle this - he had faith in your strength but knew he wouldn't stay silent for long

"Why so hostile?! I haven't done anything wrong it's not like I've gone and told him how clingy you were or the fact you just LOVED arguing."

"fuck off will you?! I wasn't clingy, you were just distant and barely treated me like a partner and we got into arguements because YOU kept going behind my back."

He finally stepped in, noticing you were getting EXTREMELY worked up and had tears lining your eyes

He pulled your ex around, gripping their face and flashed them his true forms face

They screamed as they shoved themselves away from him, darting away to their table

This made everyone look at them, Lucifer fixing his hair and wiped his gloves with a scented wipe

"how unpleasant, Let's get the check, we can finish this back at the house."

He called over a waiter, quickly paying and collecting the now packaged food

"Just tap me and I'll step in sooner, I know you can handle yourself but I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry."

Mammon:

A drive in movie - wants to show off his hot wheels and attractive partner~

He was pulled all sorts of cheesy moves, the yawn and stretch is one but many

He smiled having you leaned against him with his arm around your shoulder

You told him you were going to get more snacks and he tried to follow you but you said it'll be alright

Though when you came back you saw your ex leaning on mammons car, flirting with him

"Babe! I told them to back off but they kept pushing-"

"I didn't expect to see you here, are you with him?"

"I'm very much with him, he's taken."

You roughly handed mammon the snacks

He knew to keep his mouth shut, that look on your face wasn't something to mess with

"what a shame, I'm glad you finally got over me though, I heard from your friends you disappeared for 6 months."

"yeah, I was busy with living my life not crying over you."

Your exes mouth twitched whilst you just jumped back into your side of the car

"Right, right - so are you two serious or just a fling? I know it's difficult for you to keep a partner - why not keep me company? You're too handsome to be with them, don't you think? There's no way you actually like them-"

They trailed a hand up mammons arm, sending him a wink

He smacked their hand away from him, growing tired of their behaviour

"you listen here I'm in love with them more than your tiny little human brain will ever understand, back away from my car or watch us go on with our date."

When your ex didn't move he grabbed your shirt, pulling you in into a heated kiss

Whilst you two made out your cradled his head, flipping off your ex, mammon didn't have to even look to know what you were doing

He joined in on flipping them off, you both stayed like that until you heard them scoff and leave

"just say the word and I'll do whatever you ask, I won't let them get away with talking to you like that."

When the movie was done you spotted your exes car with the window down, mammon happily through your Popcorn into their window

But it wasn't over, when his car got close enough he took a pocket knife, slashing their car and immediately drove off at high speed

Levithan:

Arcade; was there really anything else?

He was determined to get you all the arcade prizes, using all his skills to make the machine do as he wished

Has used his tail to grab a prize from a rigged claw machine

"what else should we do? I saw a two player shooter finally open up."

"maybe dance dance Revolution? It'll be fun~"

He groaned, not wanting to do physical exercise but smiled when you weren't looking

He knew every dance song and pattern! He was going to impress you so much!

Of course there was a line, two kids hogging it and people recording them

Though things took a turn when your ex showed their face

"i should of known you'd come here, can't seem to stop visiting our old dating spots, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, clutching levithan's hand

If you were going to be honest, you completely forgot this was one of your old date places

You just remembered it was close by and you've been there when you were younger

"get over yourself, I'm on a date with my boyfriend."

"him? Really? I knew I hurt you but I didn't expect you to downgrade this much."

Levi looked down ashamed, anger boiling inside of him at how they spoke to you

He suddenly moved Infront of you, gripping your exes shirt as he pinned them to the photo-booth

"I don't care what you say to me but I know that you're just a cheating liar who gets off making others feel shitty, stay away from us or I will rip you to shreds limb by limb!"

He didn't even know his voice raised, punching the booth beside their head

Your normally timid boyfriend only got like this when you tried to be a better TSL fan than him or he lose his patience with mammon

Your ex cowered under his gaze, darting off as soon as they could

"i- I hope I didn't speak over you! I know you could of easily dealt with them but I just couldn't stand it!"

Satan:

Meausum, very interesting with different moments in history and discoveries all for the public to see - a date for nerds

Good thing you're both nerds (tbh I'd love a date like this)

"I was actually alive when this happened, It was pretty remarkable."

Oh yeah, expect him to be giving you all the classified details of moments in history

You just wished you had him whilst you were doing your history exams, you could of gotten so much extra credit!

"were you ever in any pictures? It would be pretty fun if we spotted you in the back of one of these."

He just laughed, grinning as you slowly began to realize that was an actual possibility

But before you could press on your mouth flew shut

Your ex was here

You elected to ignore them but they didn't have the same idea for you

"I never expected to see you around again, I thought you disappeared completely when no one heard from you in months."

"now that you're talking to me I wish I had, is there a reason you're interrupting my date?"

"your date? Is this him? I didn't think you'd move on so quickly~ shows what value you have on relationships."

Satan was pleased; he's heard all about your ex and was mad they were even breathing the same air as you

You were more annoying than any of his brother's and he hasn't even said anything to them yet

"I got over you quickly which might I add 10 months isn't a short time span - because you mean nothing me, you're a bitch."

"Back off or you'll end up with a bloody nose."

"gonna hit? Some man you are! Quick to violence-"

He grabbed their head, quickly jerking their head as if he was going to smash it into the display

His fingers dug into their scalp and tugged at their hair

"You have 5 seconds, I'm feeling nice today because it's valentine's - run now or I will put a dent in your skull."

He let go and he began to count, your ex looked at you both with fear before running

Just grazing the 5 second limit

"what was we discussing? Ah yes, I'll point out where I am, I think the picture is just up ahead."

Asmodeus:

Bath store date!!!

If it's with asmo - anything can be exciting

Even if it is you two walking around snorting bath bombs and poking the bath jello

Asmo handed you a bar

"smell it~ it's got herbs and flowers in it, doesn't the smell remind you of the kitchen back home?"

You gave it a small sniff but almost got abit of herb stuck in your nose when you saw your ex looking straight at you

He caught onto your surprise, slightly turning to see someone approach you two

"Careful there, don't want it to get stuck up your nose."

Your ex laughed, you just frowned

The demon looking between you, noticing how unhappy you were

"Do you want something? We're busy."

"I spotted you and thought to see hi! It's been so long since we've talked! Are you feeling abit better now after your break? I know the breakup was hard."

They gave you a pity filled look, patting your shoulder

"No, the breakup was easy to get through but why does it matter to you? We're not friends and you dumped me and that was that."

"come on it couldn't be just that, don't be shy Infront of- who are you exactly?"

Asmo quickly wrapped an arm around you, hugging you close as he gave your ex a tight smile

"Their boyfriend~! And I'm not happy about you talking to my sweetheart, leave."

"boyfriend? You look like that and you wanna try to be tough, you're as scary as a cloud- this is what you moved on with? I should of expected it."

"cute, look me in the eyes whilst you say that, won't you?"

Your ex foolishly did, Getting ready to insult but felt themself be fully charmed

"Won't you be a dear and spin around for me? Perhaps start clucking like a chicken, I think there's some feed over there." He cooed.

You bursted out laughing watching your ex do exactly as they were asked

Your boyfriend just smiled, picking up another soap and sniffing it before handing it to you

"ooo it's really fragrance, let's get this one."

You ignored your charmed ex, leaving the store with your stuff, hearing them yell out in humiliation as soon as you stepped out the store

Beezlebub:

Picnic, Should of been expected

You watched him do his stretches; you knew he had to keep himself occupied with draining tasks to keep better control over his constant hunger

He already scarfed down most of what was in basket before his fitness watch went off

You just sat back and observed

"I know this isn't romantic but once I'm tired we can continue, I'm sorry."

"Beel, I'd rather watch you flex your muscles than feel starved."

"I'll do my best."

He leaned down and you met him half way, Sharing a quick kiss before he went jogging

Everytime he passed your spot you gave him a cheer

But what you didn't expect was your ex to whistle, watching Beel with you

"do you mind? That's my boyfriend."

"I can see, how'd you get a guy like him? He's shredded, I didn't think big guys were your type."

"It's none of your business what my type is, our relationship is over and I told you I never wanted to see you again."

Your ex scoffed, glaring down at you

"is that why you disappeared for months? You really think I'd be desperate enough to message you again?"

"is it it of your system yet? Can you leave?"

"What's the issue..? You don't look pleased."

He was looking directly at you, concern on his face

You sighed In annoyance

"oh~ and he has a nice voice aswell, aren't you a package, wanna go somewhere more private?"

It was your turn to scoff, beel frowned at your ex

He knew how unpleasant your ex was and immediately stepped towards them

He grabbed their head and easily lifted them off the ground and put them to his eye level

"Apologize and Leave."

Your ex whimpered, wincing in pain, beel moved them like a ragdoll and made them face you

"I'M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING!"

They were let go and scampered off

You turned to beel, cupping his face, his mood immediately improving

"you did amazing, baby, are you tired or do you need to keep exercising?"

"I think I'll be able to be fine now, I'm glad they left so quickly, I was going to eat them."

Belphegor:

He wanted sky diving but you decided to go to the mattress store

Odd date choice but it made perfect sense to your boyfriend, they were having double bed special offers

He sunk into the mattress, sighing feeling how soft and bouncy it was

"We Should get this one."

"you said that with the last mattress, I'm sure you could find one hard as a rock and still want it."

"the top of the sofa is a comfy spot but I like my mattresses soft."

You just hummed, looking at the prices

"Tore up the old one with one of your tantrums? What a shame."

"excuse me??! I had a death In my family and that was an accident-! Why are you even here?!"

You can't believe it! Your ex had to be here of all places!

"I did want to say hi but now you're just getting all worked up over abit of teasing, you're still so sensative."

"Wow, forever the gaslighting cunt, I'm really not surprised you haven't changed but you got real balls to be so public about how much of a shitty person you are."

Beel was propped up on the mattress, happily watching you verbally destroy your ex

"you're just a bitch as always-"

"hold on, I'm just teasing - no need to get all angry about it."

He snickered whilst you smirked, coping the same tone your ex used

"Ah~ I know you, they told me about you, you're the ex that slipped and fell into the pool full of sick, I've been laughing about that for months."

"you-! I can't believe you'd talk about me so much, have you really moved on?"

"they told him one story, calm down, is this what you do now that you're single? terrorise couples in mattress store?"

They tried to bark back but he cut them off

"You know...I know plenty of ways to suffocate a human and I wouldn't even have to put a single finger on you, unless you want to see what I can do to your mind, I'd turn around and bother someone else."

They stared at him in horror, seeing you both just look down at them, enjoying their struggle for words

"you're both little shits, I hope you're miserable."

"and I hope you get the hell out of my face before I decide to stop being nice."

His eyes glowed as mist formed at his fingers, unnoticeable to anyone else around you

Your ex winced, a choked noise escaping them

They surprised you by being smart for once, turning around and storming away

"Are you miserable, belphie?"

"only when you're not around."

[creativeashproductions]

When the Pain Ends // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Breaking up with your boyfriend ends with your broken hand, a broken heart and a trip to Canada. Getting out of Oklahoma for comfort of your younger brother Owen brings you into contact with a sweet Canadian.

Warnings: Swearing, hospital, cheating boyfriend, angst and bit of fluff

Words: 3.1k

Requested: No.

A/N: Tidbit of info is that I am a university student. I had last week off and I’m six minutes into my History Zoom Lecture. Here’s a little fic.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The scowl glued on your face as you waited in the ER for the results from the x-ray you had gotten back from minutes ago. A bag of ice on the swollen knuckles of your right hand still splattered in drops of blood. The same blood as the small drops on your shirt as well. If that didn’t put a scowl on your face, it was the next issue.

The reason for your visit to the ER was in bed next over complaining as a nurse checked his face. His eyes meeting yours in a blend of guilt, regret and fear almost. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes.

Let’s backtrack a little for a short history.

The summer after graduation, you had met a guy on the beach playing volleyball in need of another player. You joined, and then you fell for the guy just as he did for you. For the last three years, you were now twenty-one years old. Parker had been a really good guy. Until yesterday.

“Babe!” Parker sounded congested with the bandages held up his nose. He had been fighting the nurse to come to your side.

“Don’t call me that!” You hissed glaring at the tall boy with the auburn hair colour that had once been your favourite colour.

“C’mon it was a mistake-Ow!” Parker whined at the nurse applied more pressure as she cast a sympathetic glance at you. A small smile of thanks passed to the nurse who had maybe pressed a little no hard on Parker’s nose.

Your eyes rolled at the drama that was Parker when it came to injuries that had been his entire fault, to be frank. Your fist meeting his face? His fault for cheating. What did he expect? A congratulations? Screw that.

“Say anything else I swear I’ll hit the other ball.” You glared at the boy sending him to a fit, shaking fear of stupidity.

The beach was filled up with teens and adults with children on the nice weekend day out of the loud city. Originally you hadn’t been able to join Parker with your mutual friends, but something else had spurred you there. Instead of having the weekly movie night via FaceTime with your younger brother, you had other plans. A particular video sent by Parker’s best friend and his cousin too had brought you here. Livvy had grown close in the three-year relationship you had with her cousin.

Your fury filled gaze flickered around the beach and the grass in the large opening area of the waterfront. Finally, your eyes found Parker sitting with Livvy on the blanket on the grass with Steve. Livvy was the first to see with marching through the people spreading like a curtain from the angry girl.

“Hey, Parker!” You shouted at your boyfriend in a conversation with your other two friends. Parker’s smile grew just before it falters at your expression.

“Hey, Babe,” Parker spoke, climbing to his full five-foot-ten stature. Livvy’s smile pulled up in an amused smirk while Steve looked more confused.

“How was your weekend at your sick Granny’s house?” You came to a stop a foot away from him. Arms crossed just under your chest his thick eyebrows furrowed together.

“Uh…it was okay. She’s feeling better.” Parker nodded to himself tilting his head to the side, “It was-“

“I hope she better. Her treatment must have been incredible.” You replied, unfurling your arms to grab the phone from your back pocket.

Parker grew more confused, “What?”

“The doctor sure knew what he was doing. The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The whistle you made after your statement sounded, but you grew more satisfied with the circle of people behind you.

“Oh.” Steve choked, raising one fist to press against his mouth. By now Livvy had started recording on her phone.

Livvy and Parker may be cousins, but she loathed cheaters when it was the cause of her parents’ divorce. Parker’s lips parted as he paled. The click of the glass screen brought up a video of Parker and a brunette in a hot tub.

“Ba-“

“Fucking look at your actions.” You hissed stepping even closer, “Was it worth it? Jeopardizing a relationship with someone you share years of memories with? Years of love and trust? All for thirty seconds of fun? We both know you tend to…get too excited.”

“Oh shit,” Steve spoke, shifting his gaze between you and Parker like he was a bobblehead of Einstein. The very bobblehead that you had laughed giving Steve with his obsession over the legendary scientist.

“It just happened. I still love you. I just needed a- “Parker stumbled back bringing his hands to his face, “OW! You broke my nose!”

“Ouch.” You hissed shaking your aching hand coated in some blood that splattered your shirt from shaking the hand.

“What the hell! You bit…holy fuck!” Parker screamed as your foot came up between his spread legs, nailing his left nut. He collapsed onto the grass, struggling to hold his bleeding broke nose and his nuts.

“That’s what you get asshole.” You shouted, turning to Livvy, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

“Parker drove, I’ll drive you both there. Steve can keep you two from fighting.” Livvy spoke, ending the video to shove everything in the oversized beach bag.

Now it was hours later as per usual in most hospitals elongating the time you were forced to spend with your now ex-boyfriend. Livvy and Steve had gone home a while back. Parker continued trying to fix the unrepairable damage he had done.

“Y-“

“That’s it!” You exclaimed jumping down from the bed to storm over to Parker. You made a few steps before arms encircled your waist.

“Okay, Slugger.” The gritty voice of your father spoke tugging you as far away from your ex-boyfriend as possible, “As much I want to kill him, I think you broke his pretty-boy face enough.”

The anger drained from your body as you slumped against your dad anguish set in with a tsunami of hurt. Time melted as you broke in your father’s arm; missing the doctor giving information. Your hand was fitted with a cast, and next thing you were aware of it was in the car.

“You bruised hits nuts. Broke his nose.” Dad nonchalantly spoke, turning the steering wheel as he exited the hospital parking lot. He didn’t bother making small talk as he let you be quiet on the drive home.

You didn’t know what hurt more, the heartache or your broken hand stabilized in the brace. The clearing of a throat had your attention is drawn to the house you had grown up no doubt holding your upset mother.

“She’s not that mad.” Dad quietly spoke, handing your phone that had died during the time in the ER. You shot him a look at the inaccuracy of his statement because you both know she was angry.

“Her daughter just spent hours in a hospital with a dead phone. We both know she probably thought I was dead in a ditch.” You deadpanned as you both walked up to the door of the home in Norman, Oklahoma.

The door opened before you could reach for it, and a flurry of blonde hair attacked you in a hug. Your mother hugged then leaned away to scan your features. Catching the dried tear stains paired with the red-rimmed eyes.

“Sweetheart.” Dinah spoke, raising her hands to wipe the tears from your face only causing more to fall, “What’s wrong?”

“Parker cheated on me.” You mumbled melting into her arms in another round of tears, breaking your parents’ hearts.

Meanwhile in Vancouver, Canada

Owen loved his job and the people he had met, but he missed the weekly movie nights with his older sister. The Joyner siblings had gotten down pat a system of sync to have the same movie playing at the same time on FaceTime. Imagine his surprise when he got a text apologizing.

Virtual movie night postponed. It put him in a slump that greatly concerned his roommate at the decrease of excitement. Even the next day, he was sad like a kicked puppy.

“Bro? You good?” Charlie asked from his place in the kitchen, scanning his emails on his computer. Owen barely made his eyes, “Wasn’t movie night with your sister yesterday?”

Owen nodded, “Yeah she-“

As Owen had gone to explain his phone had dinged with a concerning message from his mother.

Mom: Have you heard from Y/N? She hasn’t come home.

Owen swiped out of the conversation to the most used one with you shared with him to send a mass of messages. All not even coming up as read by you. It was his stipulation that you had it one for his safe of mind.

“C’mon you little shit,” Owen grumbled, pressing your contact to call. It didn’t even ring, “Dead cell.”

Charlie’s full attention shifted to the younger guy sitting on their couch in the apartment they used during filming. As Owen started pacing, Charlie was over quick as a bunny to offer comfort to him. The boys had grown so close, with Jeremy too, that they knew how to help the other.

“Owen, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Charlie soothed the blonde with his eyes pleading with the teenager.

“My parents haven’t talked to my sister. She didn’t go home.” Owen admitted scratching at his chest when his chest tightened. The other immediately finding his pulse on his neck to ensure he still had a pulse.

“Oh shit.” Charlie retorted, tapping his foot on the hardwood floor trying to find the right words to help his friend.

For the next hour, the boys kept in contact with Owen’s family and checking your social media in shifts as they filmed. It was a slow day when Owen’s phone finally rang with his mother’s contact once more.

“Mom, did you find her?” Owen asked, picking at the skin on his lips pacing as he had all day. The level of anxiety had been perfect for the scene he had filmed as Alex.

“Yeah. Look, Owen, she needs to get out of Oklahoma. Do you have room for her?” Dinah asked her son periodically glancing in the living room at the lifeless young woman.

“Yeah. We have an extra room.” Owen supplied squeezing the phone in his grip, “How is she? What happened?”

“I’m letting her settle before I ask any questions, but her flight is in a bit. It was either you take her in, or we pay for a hotel room. Oh! I got this lego-“

“I have to get back to filming. I’ll call you tonight.” Owen told his mother as his thumb hit the record circle on his phone. Kenny waving him over to film a scene with Booboo that would be the last before heading home.

The over the counter pain pill went down with a swig of water in the airport waiting for Owen and his roommate. Owen had messaged you that he would pick you up on the way from the set in perfect timing.

“Y/N!” Owen cheered catching sight of your form hunched forward on the bench you had miraculously found empty. Your blank eyes seeing the blue of your younger brother.

Owen’s eyes widened in shock, “What the hell happened to your hand?”

Noncommittal, the girl walked by her brother with her luggage in the mission to get to the car. All you wanted was to burst into years under your blankets until the world turned again, when birds sang, and the word wasn’t painted in dull colours.

Just as it had during the ride from the hospital to the house, it was dead silent in the car with the barest sound of music. Owen and Charlie had been having a conversation with expressions with the tension in the backseat stifling.

“This is our place.” Charlie spoke, opening the apartment door with a flourish for the girl and her luggage. Your eyes scanned the modest apartment with minimal mess compared to the tornado devastation of Owen’s Oklahoma room.

“Okay.” You replied, watching as Owen rolled the luggage to the room you would use for the few weeks you would be here.

Once showered, dressed and settled, you retreated to the couch to watch a film with the two boys. Your mind fluttered between Beca’s blow out with her father and Jesse to the city of Norman. As if thinking of Parker manifested something your phone buzzed with notifications.

@/livvyjo: Go, girl! [video]

@/malia134: Parker goes down like the bitch he is!!!

@/notsteverogers: I got a front-row seat to the fight.

Those three comments on Livvy’s video had more support than hate plus the video itself was hilarious. It caught the entire confrontation from greeting the cheater to being pulled away to spend the ten minutes in the same car. The car you had hooked up in the backseat of in the years you dated him.

 “-The prescription of ‘dicked down’ cured her illness and old age.” The pure anger on your expression amused you.

“What are you watching?” Owen inquired from the couch he watched the movie from. It made up for the lack of a film last night.

“A girl punching her bag of shit ex-boyfriend. She almost ripped his face off in the hospital.” You softly replied with your thumb double-tapping Livvy’s post.

Charlie’s attention shifted from the pool mashup with the Barden Bellas to the pride evident in your tone. It was the first time he had heard you laugh during the few hours he had been in your presence.

“What movie?”

“Oh, you know Parker’s Dicked Down Adventures. Filmed free with an iPhone.” You spoke sliding down to sit flush to Charlie to show the video you refreshed.

Owen’s mouth opened, “He cheated on you? How stupid is he??”

“You have a mean right hook.” Charlie supplied replaying the video for the third time with a weird feeling in his gut. The confidence stirred a body warming heat in the Canadian actor unlike anything else he had felt before.

“Dad taught me.” You replied, slouching down in the plush couch with a tiny smiling, “The nurse heard what happened. She put excessive pressure for his actions. I overheard his diagnosis; nasty bruised testicle and a broken nose.”

Both boys winced at the description. Owen ditching Charlie’s side to sit beside you, leaving you in the middle of the boys.

“I almost attacked him before Dad dragged me out of the room.” You recounted snuggling into your younger brother’s side.

“Where are my keys?” Owen questioned his roommate, “We need them to drive to the airport. I need to kill the ass that hurt my sister.”

Your deft fingers grasped Owen’s wrist when he went to get up because, in all honesty, he probably would book a flight. He wouldn’t go through with the plan to physically hurt Parker, but Owen had a wicked tongue for insults.

You spent one month in Vancouver with your brother and his castmates from helping Maddie with her homework. Movie nights with Owen changed to include Charlie too. Shopping trips with Sav and Tori. Baking with Jadah. You became family with them.

All good things come to an end. You had settled back in Norman with brighter plans that didn’t involve relying on men. Movie nights still happened with the boys, but things got hectic. Virtual movie nights shifted to texting Charlie and calls.

“Hey dork.” Charlie spoke walking down the street in Vancouver to the restaurant he was meeting the cast at. His lips pulled back in a massive grin, hearing your voice.

“Hey Char!” You enthusiastically spoke, walking out of the building with more pep in your step at the voice of the man, “What’s up?”

“On my way for food with everyone. How are you feeling?” Charlie asked, rubbing his fingertips on the dark denim pants. The sound of your voice brightening up his day more than he thought possible.

“Ooh. I should let you go, huh?” You questioned shifting to hold the phone between your shoulder and chin. Fingers unlocked the new car you had bought with the money you had saved.

A nice change of money from selling the jewellery, clothes and other miscellaneous gifts Parker had given you. The necklace he gave you that once belonged to his grandmother had been given back to him. Other than that you had no interaction with the ass.

“I’d rather talk to you.” Charlie admitted biting his lip in concentration, “I have a question.”

“Okay. What’s your question?” You questioned as your phone connected to your car—Charlie’s voice coming through the car speakers.

“Filming is almost over. Do you have plans for New Years? I’d like you to see you again.”

His words set a flutter of butterflies moving in your stomach at his nervous confidence striking the new information. The change in your friendship had been felt on his side as well and while you usually would think one-month post cheating wasn’t long enough. Something about Charlie felt comfortable as if everything had been preparing to fall for him.

“I could fly-“

“I’d like to see where you grew up. Your favourite places and where you went to school. I want to know the little things that made you who you are.” Charlie spoke coming to a stop outside the restaurant, waiting for your answer.

Owen’s eyes pulled from his debate with Sacha and Jeremy to the nervous Canadian biting his lip outside the window. By the expression on his face, Owen couldn’t guess who he was talking about. It was the smile that had been appearing on Charlie’s face for the last two weeks you had been staying with them.

Charlie had fallen for Owen’s big sister, and he couldn’t think of anyone better. The bond between you and Charlie had been natural and magical to watch. It was kinda gross seeing his best friend and sister having heart eyes with each other. Yet, Owen had never liked Parker, but he loved the idea of having Charlie as a brother.

“Y-yeah. Of course, you can Char.” The flattering blush heated up your skin at the turn in the convo—a grin splitting on the two individuals with more than three thousand kilometres between them.

“Cool. I should join the cast. I’ll text you later.”

“Bye, Charlie.” You whispered to the boy looking out the window noticing something she had been oblivious to.

The world had regained the colour, the birds sang again, and the world turned once more. All because a boy helped her heal.

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