#this show is everything I want to put out into the world

[ghostwhippet]

From Scratch

Nutrition Info: Johnny/Reader; 4k; a meetcute launched by Reader's inability to cook reasonable portions, and Johnny's... well, just Johnny

No matter how long you live alone, you can’t get the hang of cooking for one person. Even when you try to make a single-serving meal instead of batch cooking, somehow it balloons out of control. Wasting food makes you feel awful, but you can only freeze so much.

One evening, desperate and utterly fed up, you go kick gently at a neighbor’s door, both hands full, trying to mimic a knock with your shoe. Jason, you think his name was? Striking blue eyes, big frame, a cute cropped mohawk, amazing brogue, and he’s always been cordial when you’ve run into him around the building. Friendly, but not too friendly.

He’s understandably confused by your request at first, but seems happy enough for the food, and takes it around your repeated apologies–for bothering him, for existing, for anything you can find, really.

Unfortunately, not even forcing yourself to go and do all of that manages to pierce your shite sense of volume. Your trips to his door do get less awkward over time, though. And Johnny, his name is, always has sparklingly clean dishes and containers to return in exchange for the full ones. 

Eventually he just starts showing up at your place instead and eats with you at your bar counter. He didn’t really ask, and you definitely didn’t, but there he is all the same, and… if you're honest? He’s just so easy to be around, it quickly feels natural having him there. He puts you off your guard, puts you at ease and makes you smile, like those are somehow the most natural things in the world.

From that first night, Johnny has insisted on helping with dishes. Starting the second, he’s always got groceries with him. Even manages to talk you out of your discomfort over accepting them, so well that on his fourth night, you’ve got a small shopping list ready. He’s cheeky, you don’t think he’ll mind. And he is right, after all: you're probably feeding him at least three or four nights out of the week, what with all the leftovers.

You start eating better, and trying new things you'd always planned on “getting around to,” now that you've got a reason to cook beyond not starving. Everything comes out fine the first time you make it, when you’re closely following a recipe, and Johnny has no qualms about trying anything you put in front of him. You’ve never met someone so genuinely un-fussy when it comes to food.

A couple months after he’s started eating at your place, he disappears for a while. “Work trip,” is all he'll say, and you don’t pry, even though you really want to. 

Once he’s back, he starts coming over weekend afternoons sometimes. You do brunch with beer or fancy drinks in champagne flutes, or occasional breakfast on the roof before other people are awake, him in a big hoodie or jumper, and you wearing a thick blanket like it's trying to digest you, looking like a half-drowned cat because no living being is meant to be awake at such an hour. 

You cut fruit into mangled flowers and vague geometric shapes for the brunches, usually while just spending time with him. He tries his hand at it once, with you pulling up videos, laughing the whole time you’re explaining how it’s supposed to work, and the utter bastard is better at it on his first go than you were after weeks. His hands are confoundingly steady, and his hand-eye coordination borders on the unnatural.

That’s probably the official start of his sous chef arc. And that’s what has him spending a night judging your knives and marveling, repeatedly and loudly, that you still have all your fingers.

You might put a piece of eggshell into his omelet that night in retaliation, and he might not even have the decency to react to it.

“...Johnny I can hear it crunching, oh my God would you spit it out!” You manage between laughter that’s got your face hurting.

That happens a lot around him. Smiling so much it hurts.

“Nah, i’s nice texture,” he says around the mouthful, then starts enunciating the longer words. “Very advanced technique. Shows a great awareness of the culinary experience–”

“You’re being such a prat. Why are you being such a prat!”

He talks over you as if he can’t hear you, as if he’s doing some mockingly posh review. “And honestly, the crunching–” he pauses and chomps down on the shell for effect, and how is it still intact, “it really engages the senses. Keeps me immersed in my dining experience.”

You regret loaning him your cooking books. Never again.

After that, though, he steals your knives, takes them home, and they come back so sharp you can cut windowpane slices of potato. He offers to teach you how to do it yourself–after stipulating with heart-clenching thoroughness that he’s happy to come over and do it for you any time.

Johnny gets weirdly into shopping farmer’s markets, walking around discovering new produce and varieties of things he’s never seen before. “Fuck would I know tomatoes come in this color? Look at this thing, it’s like a feckin’... it’s a wee lumpy sunset, isn’t it? And this! Like someone took the heart of a dragon,” his voice had gone terribly dramatic, and you definitely hadn’t covered your face, “and stuck it on a bush somewhere.”

“Baby how are you so huge, but so adorable?” You don't know when the pet names started, but you know he started them; sometimes it feels like you two grew up together. 

You like the challenge of the new and unexpected ingredients that come from his trips, and by this point, he’s keeping your kitchen pretty stocked with whatever oddball pantry items you ask for, so you're set up to deal with almost anything. But on rare occasions he’ll call you with a question, too. You’ve had each other’s numbers for a while, it just made coordinating easier. 

“Oi can you make sommat with uh… fiddlehead ferns?”

You always can, whatever he asks about. It just takes a quick internet search to find out if you can tackle it that same night, or if it needs to wait for another day. Sometimes it ends up disastrous, but like a shot, Johnny has you laughing or throwing something at him (usually-but-not-always also while laughing) before guilt or shame can get a proper foothold.

There was a night when he was too excited about something to wait for you to answer the door when he knocked, and since then, he just sort of comes in on his own after he announces himself—at least when you know to expect him. That feels right, too, just like having him at your counter had.

You’re feeding the both of you almost every night of the week by now, even if you’re still not cooking often. You like being around him so much, you can’t imagine doing it less, not even when cooking is the last thing you want to be doing. It’s like there’s a bubbly little sun in your chest when he’s around.

Johnny makes you so happy, in fact, and you’re so afraid of losing your time with him, it’s nearly six months before the first time you have to tap out of a dinner, too knackered to make yourself even casually presentable, nevermind cook so much as instant noodles.

He reacts like it’s no problem at all, which of course he’d do, because he’s wonderful, but you don’t manage to keep your heart from dropping that he’s not at least a little sad. That he doesn’t, maybe, look forward to the nights like you do. You know your arrangement is practical, and he’s never been over unless there was food involved, but… well… seeing him seems to have become rather… vital to you.

Which means it’s better to put it away, anyhow, right?

So when, an hour after you’d texted him and basically all he’d said was No problem, thinking takeout, any votes?, he’s coming through your front door with delivery bags and talking a mile a minute like it’s just another night, you're left with your mouth open and your hand on the knob, because… because he's here.

You're not cooking, but he's still here.

You just stand there gobsmacked as he sits on the couch, nattering away, half the food out before he even realizes you’re still playing doorstop. He asks if you’re having the time of your life or if you’re going to come sit down, those horrible (wonderful) crinkles at the sides of his eyes, brows pulled up in the middle.

He looks confused when you say you want to freshen up, like he can’t see that your hair might’ve lost a row with a feral rodent, or that you’re wearing clothes that shouldn’t even be outside of a bin, nevermind on a person. He just tells you the food will get cold, and that it’ll be no good that way.

So you run your hands through your hair and sit, subdued and uncertain like you haven’t been around him in ages, as he amiably fills the silence. You know he can tell you’re not right, but he’s just… acting like it’s ok that you aren’t.

Midway through the meal, he reaches forward to grab a container and put it in front of you, and it makes his knee come up against yours. 

It doesn’t move away when he sits back.

Then, as the night wears on and the very most jagged edges of your weariness have eased, he makes a joke and you bump your shoulder into him in retaliation. It pushes your legs flush… and neither of you do anything to separate them. He just keeps on being Johnny like nothing is different, like nothing strange is happening, like he can’t see how bloody flushed you must be, like the room hasn't turned to glass and burst, leaving the both of you toppling through the air.

You're not stupid, so you have to tell yourself repeatedly that he’s just trying to comfort you. He’s acting completely normal otherwise—for Johnny—and you look like a person in need of a friend tonight. And same as him, you’re at all your meal nights instead of off with friends or dates. At least for him, it’s because of his career. You haven’t even seen him bringing up a new fling in ages.

…You’re not stupid. Right?

After the food is finished, Johnny putters about cleaning up, working his way around your kitchen like he knows it exactly as well as he does. He puts all but one container of leftovers in your fridge. 

You hug your knees comfortably, just sort of watching him, too full of static to be paranoid about it, and he either doesn’t realize or isn’t bothered by it. Not being a complete creep, you don’t keep it up for too long, anyhow. You’ve got plenty to occupy your thoughts.

He surprises you on his way out by casually setting a mug in front of you. He’d made you something hot to drink while he was cleaning up, and you were so spaced you hadn’t realized. He just gives you a little smile, a gentle squeeze on the shoulder with a stroke of his thumb, says, “Wednesday, yeah?” (the night of your next normal get-together), and moves on toward the door. All normal. But there’s some metal in your chest painfully bending itself into unaccustomed shapes, jabbing places that aren’t used to the pressure, pushing into your windpipe until it’s hard to breathe, and you can’t stop yourself from telling him that you made up a new seasoning blend for popcorn, if he’d maybe like to watch a movie before he goes.

He stands there by the door looking at you just for a split second too long, opens his mouth, closes it, then settles right back onto the couch up next to you. He reaches out an arm and pulls you gently into his side, moving in a way that makes it an invitation and not a demand, while he’s talking about what to watch.

You fall asleep there. So does he.

Things turn a bit funny after that in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. At the surface, everything is the same. But nothing feels the same. Every time there’s a tease, casual touches, close quarters, you have to chant not stupid not stupid not stupid on repeat in your head. He’s just Johnny, that’s all. The guy you could have grown up with.

You keep up the dinners and the weekends, and eventually, finally realize that with him around to take all your extras, you can bake. It’s something you’ve wanted to try forever, but recipes don’t really make single servings, and you never had anyone to pawn off the other 22 muffins or ¾ of the cake onto, or the sheet of croissants, because you absolutely want to try the most fussy, difficult things. And it turns out, when at last he tells you what he does, that Johnny works at the local military base–which at least explains his size–so if he can’t polish something off, well, he knows some blokes.

You’re so excited after that, things almost seem to return to normal. He even comes over and hangs out while you’re baking sometimes. Just knocking about, licking the beaters and the spoons and the bowls, doing dishes as you go, fidgeting with this or that, all while knowing you’re equally as likely to produce something inedible as you are a treat.

Johnny tells you a little about his career one evening. He says that it means he’s in real danger often, there’s a lot of secrecy with people in his personal life, long absences and surprise ones, shit pay, and likely a brief expiration date. (You don’t really let that last one in). He’s got a bit of a funny look in his eyes when he shares about all of it. Quite focused on you, in a way? It makes your cheeks heat. It isn’t as if it’s on you to approve of his life.

But at least now you understand why he’s on his own. And you suppose you’re a bit small, because while you’re incredibly sad for him, part of you is thrilled that it means he’s not likely soon going to be swept away by someone else too soon.

You just gather yourself up, smile, and tell him that at least he’s spending the time he has as best he can, which is a hell of a lot more than a lot of people do–although you personally hope there’s a lot more of it. And that… at the end, you're glad for all the times you're involved.

Johnny’s leaning against the counter while you fold nuts and rum-soaked fruit into a thick batter, his normally busy hands jammed into his pockets, posture a bit off, and so close you almost keep elbowing him on accident, the two of you just bantering back and forth. 

You turn your head toward him to fire back, and–

–his mouth is just there, on yours.

He lingers, but doesn’t move otherwise. It’s… testing, you think. You feel his lips shake against yours, in fact, just once. 

Your shock dies fast and your eyes slip closed, and while it’s a brief kiss, when he pulls away, you don’t open them. You can’t. Because if you’re honest, you’ve probably been gone for him since the first time you gave him a friendly hug goodnight, and it’s only ever gotten worse. If you open your eyes, this won’t be real, or it won’t have happened, or it will shatter somehow.

After a pause, he runs the back of a finger down your temple, trailing the side of your face to your jaw. You still won’t open your eyes, so he just toys with your face until you do.

He’s got a soul-crushing smile at the corners of his eyes.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admits into the quiet.

“...Oh?” Your voice is embarrassingly, unhelpfully breathy. It’d probably be mortifying, if you had the mental capacity to fully register embarrassment at the moment.

He pauses, smile making its way to his lips, and curling them up at the corners, bit by bit. He cants his head, just a little, like he wants to see you from another angle. “Aye. …Might’ve been since the first time I saw you at the mailboxes.”

“Oh?” 

That had been one of the first times you remember ever seeing him. He never said a word to you other than, “Mornin’” or “Evenin’,” if he said anything at all.

His smile blooms until you can see his teeth. “You were wearing this little shirt. Green, thin. Bit worn, like it was a favorite. Showed a wee spot of skin at your back.” His fingers brush the spot, soft and testing, near the base of your spine, and it jolts you from scalp to toes. “Might’ve… lost some time, thinking about what it’d feel like if I slid my hand up there.” He toys with the hem of your shirt and steps in, voice going deeper and rougher around the edges. “Might’ve imagined pushing it up, getting a bit closer. Really might’ve imagined putting your back up to the slots, mo–”

You kiss him this time, before he can go on, and it’s anything but testing.

And just like everything else about him, this fits. 

His mouth fits against yours. His body fits against yours. And as if some band of control snaps, so abruptly you swear you feel it jolt through his skin, he's got you up on the counter, his thighs between yours, both of you already breathing hard.

His hands on you are perfect, calloused, slipping up under the back of your shirt, smoothing and gripping, making your chest and your thighs feel molten. It's ravenous, like he just has to touch your skin, has to get you closer. You arch toward him, fingers running up through his hair, legs curling around his and pulling him nearer.

His hips are carefully, stubbornly, infuriatingly back from you, but the kiss is so full of need, so close, that some of his breaths sound hollow against your mouth. It's like he can't decide whether inhaling or devouring you is more important, so he just doesn't choose.

When you're at the point of moaning unintentionally, of hungry little sounds forcing their way out of your chest, of your hips moving against the counter in desperation, when you're moments from outright begging, Johnny pulls back, and goes further when you try to chase his mouth.

His lips are red and full, his face dark--much worse when he catches sight of how completely drunk you must look--and he's panting. His fingers dig into your hips like he's trying to keep one or both of you from drowning. He squeezes his eyes shut.

You don't mean to, you really don't, but you look down, and lord help you but–

“That looks painful,” you tell him. Your voice sounds like it's been run over a washboard. He's tented against his denim, and his size is… proportional.

…You can't seem to remember how to make yourself look up.

“Really rather not talk about my cock just now, love,” he gravels, fingers clenching briefly against you. His head tips forward onto your shoulder, breaths panting out against your collar bone, leaving you to pick up every bit of heat he's trying to get out of himself.

You hum, teasing. “Shame, because I can't think of anything I'd rather talk ab—”

His big paw covers your mouth. “For the love of every Saint, I’m beggi—”

You cut him off right back. By licking his palm.

He recoils in horror, but the moment your eyes meet, you both burst into laughter, made worse every time he tries to tell you how disgusting that is, something about his sisters as kids, you don't know what else.

You're the first to sober, breathing almost back to normal, thoughts already whirring on fast-forward. You look down, pulling your knees together, hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Are we…. Will we be ok, after this?”

You peek up to see him looking at you like you're daft.

“‘S been the better part of a year,” he says softly, moving forward and running his thumbs over your knees. Asking your legs to make room again, to let him get close again. “Have you really not figured it out, all this time?” 

Your legs open hesitantly, and he steps in and, when you look up at him, kisses one corner of your mouth, then the other, slow and warm and so tender it feels like your chest is cracking right down the center.

Eyes closed, brows a little pinched, you murmur, “We can't all be SAS savants, Johnny.” Maybe you know. Maybe. But it has been all this time, so maybe you need to hear it, too.

He's still kissing, pace unhurried and savouring, making his way to your jaw and just beneath it. But it's calming now, somewhere between reverential and still trying to bring the both of you down. Himself especially, you think.

“Then let me spell it out for you. Gladly.” He noses up against the bottom of your ear and roughs, “You are fucking stuck with me. Glued. Bloody welded.” He huffs a laugh and leans back upright—but not all the way, not too far back. “This isnae a new thing for me. You know that, right? I just….” He shakes his head and abandons the thought, “Hell, my mates have already been asking when they can come over for dinner, the dobbers.”

Your brows shoot up. “You've talked about me at work?”

He looks down, and while his face is in half a scowl, you'd swear he does it to hide a slight flush, too. “Haven't shut up about you, more like. Should hear what my Lieutenant– Ach, nevermind that.”

You hurry to say that they're welcome any time, but it makes him scowl fully.

“Not exactly keen on the idea just yet.” He puts his arms around you, buries his face in your neck, and just stands there, breathing you in. He mutters into the crook of your shoulder, “Mind if I stay like this for a bit? Just while I, uh… calm down.”

His hips are still well back from you. You’re not sure you’ve ever adored and hated him so much at once.

“I’d really like that,” you tell him softly, arms going around his ribs, hands on his shoulders, chest to chest.

It's warm and resounding like this, so after a spell, without thinking, you bite his shoulder. Just sink your teeth in and leave them there. It’s not even entirely conscious, it's just so comfortable and comforting.

“All good, there, wee piranha?” he eventually asks, a smile in his voice.

You detach instantly. “Ah, sorry! I, uh, might have a tiny bit of an oral fixation.”

He groans. “Are ye trying to do me in?”

“I’m not the one who said we had to stop, Mr. Military Discipline.”

His eyes darken in a flash, but he tamps down on it just as quickly and gets that godawful cocky look on his face, instead. “Pardon me for not wanting to rush something that really matters.” His tone goes so soft at the end that you can’t even be mad at him--exactly as you know he intended, the great bastard.

“How did I not know what a sadist you are?”

And that look means he’s about to make you eat your words.

“Johnny I will happily kill you in your sleep.”

“I could handle that. Means you'd be in my bed, aye?”

He pulls your hands up from the death grip they've found on the edge of the counter and laces your fingers together. “I dinnae….” He clears his throat, frowns. “Just being away on deployment is shite now, and I love what I do. But I miss you while I'm gone, think about you back here all the bloody time, and we havnae even….”

When he doesn’t finish, you whisper, heart clenching with the realization, “You don't want to rush this.”

He laughs quietly like he wants to argue. But what he says is, “No. I don't. But while that's true….” He steps in, chin ducking, eyes darkening even as they shine, voice lowering. “What do you say we turn the oven off? I've a funny feeling you willnae be getting around to that bake today.”

Masterlist

[multipleoccupancy]

Sloane nodded thoughtfully and absorbed the single parent idea with just a small element of sadness, he knew she had lost her mother from their discussions on the constellations. He hoped it wouldn't be too painful for her to think about in the mission but he trusted her to say if it was the case. "We'll do that then, I am sure I can tug on the right strings to get them to let her in." He put on his very best sad expression, which was very convincing before he let it fade back into a warm smile for her.

"Yes I am hoping tonight will be a case of two birds and one stone." He looked to Killian and Violet, "maybe four stones, but that just means we can hit harder." He partly teased but he had promised they would do what they could to try and reverse what had been done to the student and it would start with catching and 'questioning' whoever it was behind the experiments. Fully understanding what it was Samantha was suggesting in her 'asking' idea.

He saw how he had made her speechless and he put a hand around her shoulder to pull her back into a small hug, caring and thoughtful hoping he had not upset her even as she thanked him. "They can still pick and chose who to send where," Sloane said of Delta Green and maternity leave, "perhaps you can be the person to start implementing the idea of maternity leave." He suggested with a flash of a smile. "But you should not put your life on hold for fear of things that might not even happen. You give so much to the missions and to the world that you deserve your chance to take a step back and live the life which you're protecting. You can put measures into place for your family. I have and when that time comes, just give me a clue and we'll talk through what you can do."

Theo was a little blown away at the idea of Fire Vampires looking and acting like bolts of lighting. He was struggling to work out if they were real or if Violet was perhaps being told something of a weird urban legend about them. But she had said she had captured them. It was very hard to believe, everything she said and had been through but for the rollercoaster of emotions already that night, he was happier to accept rather than question it as he went off to find the soda cans.

He picked up enough of them that they were spilling from his arms as he made his way back from the trash can. Not even batting an eye at having rummaged through it, too excited in the moment to at least feign disgust, but nice collage campus bins in the campus theatre were a safe bet compared to what he sometimes ended up picking through in New York. "Here we go," he said as he moved to the far side of the stage from her to start setting the cans out at different heights, some on the floor, some on a bench and desk.

Sloane gave Violet a smile and a very clear thumbs up for her showing him the crossbow as he nearly spoke out of the side of his mouth to Samantha. "We should probably limit the ammunition on that one." He suggested as he watched a fifteen year old waving around what had been a deadly weapon for centuries now. "I hope her aim is as good as she said it was." But Sloane made no attempt to stop either Violet or Killian, perhaps because he wanted to see if it would work and if he could and should let Violet use it in their plan.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Yes, it would be a lot more fun. "You're right," she admitted anyway, "let's try to play the teacher card first. You could tell them that you have her for the weekend but have to work late tonight. The single dad angle should mellow out whoever's in charge of the dorms." She spoke from experience.

"I bet we can finish the mission tonight," she echoed, perhaps more optimistic, or too optimistic. But like Sloane had said so himself, once they had the monster trapped, they could easily lure the man behind this awful experiment! "Whoever did this to this poor student might even know how to undo it. It'll be worth it to ask him once we have him." And by 'ask', Samantha did mean 'use force if necessary'. Which Violet would not be allowed to witness.

Sloane's words left her speechless for a moment. She blushed, teary-eyed. "Thank you," she finally managed after a few seconds, "I would like that, you know. Be a mother. But as long as I'm on the field... Delta Green doesn't really offer maternity leave." She looked at Violet and thought about how she adored her father. Then she thought about her own father. She loved him too. But she had still raised herself, in the end. "What if something happens to me? What if my kid loses me?" Her eyelashes fluttered. "I'm sorry." She knew Sloane had kids of her own.

Oh, right. This Theo didn't know about Fire Vampires. And she hoped he would never have to encounter one. "Fire Vampires look like huge bolts of lightning," she explained, "once they touch something, it bursts into flames. But as it turned out, they don't just look like lightning, they work like it too. So, they were immediately trapped inside my lightning rods." She grinned. "They seemed quite unhappy about it.

Violet trusted that he knew where to find empty cans -after all, he had been posing as a student at this university. She waited as he trotted to one of the bins, excited to try her crossbow. When she seemed to notice Sloane was looking at her, she waved in his direction and proudly pointed at the crossbow.

Samantha's smile was a little bit tense as she waved back. "If her weapon-making skills are on par with her trap-making skills... I think it will." Which was good, right? And also very worrying.

[joffyworld]

DO ART FOR YOU! 🫵

FUCK EVERYONE ELSE!!!

Seriously.

I'm so sick and weary of logging on here and seeing creators I adore, and people I don't even know alike, apologising for not uploading or basically begging for a break like they're not a human with needs.

You're literally a human being, with thoughts, feelings and emotions. You're not an art factory, you're not some positivity pump, you're nothing other than a genuine human being living a genuine life experience.

SO GO LIVE IT!!!

YOU OWE THE INTERNET NOTHING!!!!

There should be, and realistically is, no shame in just fucking leaving if you want to. There's no contract you signed, there's no permit you bought or lease you hold. You're a person who decided to share their art with the world, FOR FREE, and garnered an audience of faceless people behind screens who enjoy that art because YOU wanted to make it and share it.

Let me be frank as best I can. You owe the internet nothing, you owe the world nothing and you owe yourself EVERYTHING. You are the only person who can live your life, you are the only person who can create the things you create and you are the only motherfucker that should matter to you when you create those things.

Art is supposed to be a wondrous joy that inspires the mind and indulges ideas that other creatures can't even comprehend. It's supposed to be a magical and fun fantasy land where anything is possible because you make it possible. It's not a 9-5 unless you make it one, so stop making your hobby a 9-5 unless you're getting paid for it, and even then put in limits because no job that you choose to do should end in you burnt out and wishing you'd never started in the first place.

Remember when we were all kids? When we all drew and wrote for fun simply because we could? We'd show people are shit and be like "Mama look!" and she'd clap her hands all proud. But she wasn't why you picked up that crayon, you just did it for you because you wanted to make some shit.

That's how it should be. That's how it is unless you let those fake ass numbers on a screen rule your life. It's all meaningless, the praise may be genuine but that doesn't mean you should spend your whole life running in circles and performing for an audience.

Be a human being! Be an artist! Fuck everyone else!

Just be yourself <3

[lumosou]

୨୧ — The Harry Potter boys and their Love Languages ( ˆ͈̑꒳ˆ͈̑ )੭ ; 𖦹 + ♡

ꕤ — Characters ; Harry J Potter. Ron Weasley. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Draco Malfoy. Cedric Diggory.

ꕤ — Discretion ; none!! just fluff and love.

ꕤ — A/n ; eee i’m so sorry for disappearing for a bit ☹️. but i appreciate alll the support u guys have been showing me on all my works!! ily guys!! so here’s a fun lil treat :3 thank u endlessly 🫶🏻

; masterlist.

୨୧ — Harry J. Potter & Acts Of Service.

Harry isn’t good with words—not the ones that matter, anyway. He stumbles, stammers, gets stuck trying to say how he feels. But when it comes to showing you, there’s no hesitation. His love is found in the way he waits outside the library to walk you back to the common room, how he memorizes your favorite tea and makes sure there’s always enough sugar. It’s the way he notices when you’re too tired to finish an essay and stays up scribbling notes for you even though he’s just as exhausted.

He’s the boy who gives pieces of himself quietly, always watching, always finding the small gaps in your day where he can slip in and help without you asking. Because that’s what he needs—to feel like he’s protecting you, even from the smallest inconveniences.

Harry doesn’t say I love you in grand speeches. He says it in the way he fixes your broken quill without telling you, how he gives you the better seat at dinner, how he’d gladly carry your burdens if you let him. To him, love is action—every unspoken I’ll take care of this wrapped in the quiet hope that you’ll understand.

୨୧ — Ron Weasley & Quality Time.

Ron doesn’t need extravagant displays of affection; he just wants you. To be near you, to sit next to you, to share the little pieces of his world that make him who he is. He thrives in your presence, whether it’s laughing over a ridiculous chess match, walking the long way to class just to keep the conversation going, or sitting quietly by the fire while the hours slip by unnoticed.

Time with you is how Ron shows he cares. It’s in the way he always makes room for you—on the couch, in his day, in his life. He’ll wait for you after lessons, save you a seat at every meal, and offer you the last Chocolate Frog without hesitation. He’s happiest when you’re there, no matter what you’re doing, because your company makes everything better.

For Ron, love is in the small, stolen moments. It’s in the way he notices the things you like, the way he teases you just enough to see you smile. He doesn’t need to say it out loud—not when every minute he spends with you is his way of saying, You matter to me.

୨୧ — Fred Weasley & Physical Touch.

Fred speaks in touches—quick, fleeting, and full of mischief. A hand on your shoulder as he sneaks up behind you, a playful nudge of his elbow to make you laugh, the way his arm always ends up slung around your shoulders like it belongs there. He’s tactile in a way that feels effortless, like he can’t help himself when it comes to you.

But then there are the other touches, the ones that mean more than he ever says out loud. His hand brushing yours under the table, his fingers ghosting over your back when you’re standing close, the way he pulls you into a hug that lasts just a second longer than it should. He’s all warmth, all ease, all Fred.

With him, touch is a language of its own. It’s how he shows he’s paying attention, how he steadies you when the world feels too loud, how he reminds you that he’s there—always, without fail. He’ll twirl a strand of your hair around his finger while you’re trying to focus, just to see you roll your eyes, but his thumb will stroke gently over your knuckles when you’re quiet, reminding you that he sees more than you think.

Fred’s love is in the way he’s never far, his presence a constant, reassuring hum. Every touch, whether playful or tender, says what he won’t always put into words: I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re mine.

୨୧ — George Weasley & Acts Of Service.

George loves quietly, but he loves deeply. His affection isn’t loud or flashy—it’s in the little things, the unnoticed gestures that leave no room for doubt. He’ll stay up late helping you finish that essay, even though he’s got his own work waiting for him. He’ll charm the Gryffindor common room fire to burn just a little brighter when you’re cold, or tuck a sweet you love into your bag without a word.

With George, it’s all about thoughtfulness. He pays attention—really pays attention—to the things that make you happy. He knows your favorite snack, your favorite quill, the way you like your tea. He notices when you’ve had a rough day before you even say a word, and his first instinct is to fix it. A joke, a small gift, a ridiculous gesture—it’s all his way of saying, I’m here for you.

But his acts of service aren’t just practical—they’re personal. He’s always finding ways to make your life brighter, softer, more manageable. If you’re overwhelmed, he’ll take something off your plate without you asking. If you’re sad, he’ll make you laugh, even if it means making a fool of himself. And when you ask why he does it, he’ll shrug, his ears pink, and say, “Because I can.”

George’s love is subtle but unwavering. It’s in every thoughtful detail, every small action, every quiet I’ll take care of it that he hopes you’ll notice but never expects you to. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention—it just is.

୨୧ — Neville Longbottom & Words Of Affirmation.

Neville’s love is soft, steady, and full of reassurance. He’s the boy who sees the best in you, even when you can’t see it yourself. His words are careful, heartfelt, and impossibly earnest—he’ll tell you how brilliant you are after every small success, remind you how brave you are when you’re doubting yourself, and whisper how beautiful you look when you catch him staring.

But Neville’s words aren’t just sweet; they’re intentional. He notices the things you’re insecure about—the things you try to hide—and makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. When you’re frustrated or overwhelmed, he’s the one who tells you, It’s okay. You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think. He believes in you wholeheartedly, and he’ll never let you forget it.

His love is in the way he writes you little notes when he’s too shy to say things out loud, the way he always manages to find the perfect compliment at the perfect moment. Neville’s words aren’t about flattery—they’re about truth. He means every single one.

With Neville, you never have to wonder how he feels. His words wrap around you like a warm hug, a constant reminder that you’re loved, cherished, and seen. To him, every You’re amazing is another way of saying, I’m so lucky to have you.

୨୧ — Draco Malfoy & Gift Giving.

Draco shows his love in the way he gives—not just things, but pieces of himself. His gifts are thoughtful, deliberate, and so carefully chosen that you can’t help but feel how much he pays attention. A rare book he tracked down because you mentioned it once, your favorite sweets neatly wrapped and waiting for you after a hard day, or an heirloom quill with a note that simply says, It reminded me of you.

It’s never about the price, though he pretends it is. He’ll roll his eyes and call it no big deal, but the way he watches your reaction gives him away every time. Because it isn’t just a gift—it’s his way of saying, I see you. I notice what makes you happy. I care.

But it’s not all material. Draco gives his time, his attention, his loyalty. He’s there when you need him, even if he doesn’t know what to say. He shows up with a coffee you didn’t ask for or slips a note into your bag that reads, Don’t forget how brilliant you are. It’s in the way he lends you his scarf when you’re cold or makes sure your favorite seat by the fire is saved.

Draco’s love is in the details, the way he always finds the perfect thing to remind you how much you mean to him. He doesn’t say I love you easily, but his gifts? They say it for him. Quietly, fiercely, and completely.

୨୧ — Cedric Diggory & Physical Touch.

Cedric’s love is quiet, steady, and impossibly warm, and it shows in the way he touches you. It’s never demanding, always gentle—a hand at the small of your back as you walk through the halls, his fingers brushing yours under the table, or the way his arm wraps around your shoulders without hesitation when you’re cold. With Cedric, touch isn’t just comfort; it’s a promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

He’s affectionate in ways that feel effortless. He’ll press a kiss to your temple when no one’s looking, or pull you into a hug so tight it feels like he’s shielding you from the world. When you’re upset, his thumb traces slow circles over the back of your hand, grounding you. And when words fail, it’s his touch that reassures you—light, familiar, unshakable.

But it’s the little moments that matter most. The way he reaches for you instinctively, his fingers intertwining with yours like they belong there. The way his forehead leans against yours in quiet moments, his breath mingling with yours in a silent exchange of you’re everything to me. Cedric doesn’t just touch you; he anchors you.

To him, love is closeness. It’s the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his hand in yours, and the way he’s always, always pulling you closer—because with you, he’s home.

﹙@ 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗼𝘂 ﹚

[mixingandmelting]

Winter Series Day 6: Teenage Crush

Summary: how he's in love with you featuring the original Robin trio

A/N: was i emotional when i wrote this? yes, no thanks to remembering jason was the sweetest and cheerful robin at the height of 4' 6" in-canon

Robin!Dick:

Daredevil, gremlin child, and the nightmare of all of Gotham’s villains was what Robin!Dick was known for. But at the end of the day, he’s just a boy that’s completely gone for you. He can’t and doesn’t let you catch a break as he constantly pokes you from starting the silliest arguments to putting on a show of his routines he used to do back in his family’s circus. Not once does he approach you like a normal person. One day he’d be creeping silently behind you, suddenly asking what you’re doing right into your ear while peering over your shoulder. The next, he would simply stand in front of you and wait for you to notice. He pouts when it seems like it’s taking you too long, though he does appreciate getting the time to engrave your form and the other expressions you make when he’s not annoying you. All of this, he does constantly, almost every other day in fact, because in his mind and heart, you are the best thing to ever enter and be in his life. It amplifies his haughtiness, silliness, goofiness, and sass as he does everything in hopes that he could strike a chance with you. So when he comes back from a long mission and you express any indiction of concern and how you missed him, his smile stretches from ear to ear, his heart fluttering from how you care for him. Of course he would probe to hear more, his desire of wanting to hear your thoughts on him but he still manages to stop himself from overdoing it. During the times when you pull an uno-reverse card on him unexpectedly, he gets extremely flustered and flushed from his “impress to woo the other person over” backfiring big time and instead, he’s falling for you all over again.

Robin!Jason:

Despite his height, he’s considered the cheerful and bright one as he steals the hearts of the Titans after a single mission, and makes Batman of all people laugh. Have you in the room and  he lights the whole place from how much he glows. Before heading to you, he sniffs his uniform to make sure it doesn’t smell like cigarettes. If it has the faintest scent of it, he goes back to the cave to change into a new one, doing so even more after learning how second-hand smoking can cause cancer. At some point he gets fed up with sniffing and changing so many times, he starts going through all the tricks to quit smoking even faster. Time to time, he brings something small, making excuses including the classic “saved an old lady crossing the road” on his way as a rose gets placed into your hands. He’s notably chattier and laughing more around you, enjoying whatever the two of you talk about even if it’s mundane and boring. He can’t help it when your passion, laughter, excitement, and smiles are infectious. His love for you is so pure that he’d be satisfied with simply being by your side, his one wish being that he can bring you as much happiness as you do for him. Time to time when you get a burger combo meal, seemingly to believe that’s his favorite based on the one time he mentioned about his memory with it whether it’s to welcome him back from a long while or randomly he gets fuzzy, warm, and the heart palpitations while he shares the meal with you. You make him feel that his life is complete, that he won the whole world which motivates him to become a better person, a “good guy” as they all say, so he can stay with you even if he ends up not being your end game.

Robin!Tim:

He’s known as the smart one as well as the one that sacrificed his chance of normal for the sake of saving Batman and currently, Gotham. You were never part of his plan as he already envisioned how his life as Batman's sidekick would look like but here he is, completely smitten for you as he figures out ahead how to approach you when he catches you hanging out. Image training, standing in front of the mirror and going through his lines and poses until Alfred caught him doing it once. Now he does it after locking his door, double, triple checking he was going to get his little gig right so he can look cool when he appears in front of you. Take the “yapper and listener” meme. That’s his relationship with you where he’s serenaded by your voice and won’t ever get sick of listening to it. If you were to express anything you need or want, he gets it and leaves it where he was standing or sitting with a small note attached. He’s also guilty of abusing his alternative identities and disguises so he could extend his time with you even outside of being Robin. Not that you would ever know as he has no intentions any time soon to out himself. There’s no other reason for him being this extra other than that you are the one that gives him the comfort and relief he needs. You are his solace that makes his self doubt disappear and everything he has done worth it. So when you do any skin ship including the scandalous hand holding, he’s equivalent to the red on his suit and mute from how conscious he gets from feeling you extremely close to him. Also gets him to forget to breathe but that’s not the issue here.

[tillsfan]

“hate is easier than a word as vague as love” cards analysis

seeing sua's card, i immediately got the impression of her putting up a facade. her keeping her mouth SHUT, and holding her throat. i feel this represents sua’s dishonesty towards mizi, her deliberately hiding the truth of alien stage, yet slowly losing her composure because she knows she can't hide the truth forever. she knew her death was coming, yet she continued to force stability.

i also view her covering her neck as her actively hiding the reality, since her neck was where she got shot. she actively hid the truth of death until the end, with her forced expression and hiding the crack. she's also sweating, showing guilt towards her own actions. but sua's selfish. so she continued with her facade to make mizi happy. her extensive blush compared to the others, her lack of tears, the severity of her cracks.. does this make sense. this whole card symbolizes both her dishonesty and her selfish nature

mizi's card is interesting. first of all, her crack is where sua's blood splattered on her. as sua died, she was still smiling, like it took her a second to process what was going on. you can tell she's suffering, she's literally holding herself together, yet she puts on a smile. i feel her card shows that she is processing things later than others, possibly continuing to avoid the reality of sua's death, because ignorance is all she knows. it's as if she's trying to remain positive, to remain that false light of hope, instead of grieving like a normal person. maybe not outwardly, because we know mizi was pretty closed off after sua’s death—but maybe she’s trying to convince herself. convince herself that she can save everyone, giving herself that false hope. sua's deciet did stunt mizi's growth after all.

mizi’s color scheme here is pink, and while it could be said that it’s just because it’s her signature color, i feel it’s something deeper. it can symbolize the “rose-tinted glasses” she had on, as her perception of anakt and alien stage was an idealized/perfected version. we know she never knew the reality of alien stage before it was forced to hit her like a truck. though, her eyes and tears are a very noticeable blue, which i perceive as the reality and grief finally seeping through her perfect world.

i am posting an individual mizisua analysis tomorrow. i want to delve deeper into them outside of just these cards.. so sorry that theirs is quite short

ivan's card is a great contrast to mizi's and sua's. ivan is very visually suffering, he's in severe distress. ivan's card represents his overflowing of inner emotions, as he kept them in all his life. he hid them, let them bubble up inside until they boiled over. we know ivan has learned to keep up a facade, hiding his true childish, selfish and intense nature. he kept his intense emotions for till hidden all his life, and when he was finally about to die, he went all out. his final actions were almost like he was venting, letting everything pour out at once because he never made them prevalent. he let out his affection and hatred he's held for till all his life in the span of a few seconds.

his color scheme is also pure red. colors in alien stage hold great meaning, and red is often associated with intensity and rebellion. the colors here can represent both his intense overwhelming emotions, and his hidden resentment towards till. you can also piece that together with his expression, he seems very clearly frustrated. all in all, ivan's card represents many things. how he hid his emotions until they became overwhelming, and his overall conflicting feelings towards till.

ivan's crack is also across his face, furthering the idea of him holding up a false persona. the hearts are pooling out from both ends, representing the burdening amount of emotion he's had to keep inside. he felt his emotions were different, shallow, therefore he chose to hold them in until it killed him. he's also actively holding himself together, showing the struggle he felt hiding himself.

the first most noticeable thing is the crack placement. his crack is where ivan has always touched him, ivan had a habit of caressing till's cheek, which was the most gentle gesture he ever gave. till is very clearly mourning ivan here, and was well aware of ivan's presence throughout his life. ivan was his stability, in a way. now that ivan isn't there to hold him, he's falling apart. it almost feels like a missed opportunity on till's end, his feelings finally being recognized only after ivan left him.

till's expression is very conflicting, his eyes being unevenly opened and his mouth tilting in difierent ways. this can represent how lost he feels without ivan. this could also represent how he doesn't know how to feel at ALL, seeing as how he had such a small amount of time to even grieve ivan's death, and how he never properly confronted his feelings towards ivan. he has shielded himself from the reality of ivan all his life. this can also be seen with how his hands are LITERALLY shielding his head. till's coping mechanism is avoidance, he deeply fears intimacy, so he chased after someone he knew he could never obtain (mizi). he avoided ever confronting how he truly felt about ivan, because if he did, he knew he had the chance of losing someone close to him again. but avoiding ivan's reality didn't change the fact they were really close. till cares. till cared so much that it led to his demise.

till's color scheme is blue, visualizing the deep sorrow engulfing till. throughout round 7, till was heavily distressed and upset, his feelings overpowering his ability to properly perform, leading to his loss. till does not know how to confront sadness, seeing as how he let it submerge him in round 6 as well. he's very mentally weak DUE to his avoidance + fear of vulnerability in both relationships and his own emotions. he never allowed himself to properly get close to anyone, he couldn't develop the mental strength needed to survive.

[tiger333k]

there are a lot of people complaining about Arcane season 2, and yes, I get it, it is a bit rushed at times and it would do well if they did a little extra explaining on some parts but honestly it feels like people are just nitpicking sometimes

example: just saw a video about someone complaining about ep7 about Powder and Ekko getting together, and just, wtf??? yes, I know it's because of Ekko's tip that vi died and I know the characters should've it weird when Ekko woke up and just started pointing about things in the past that they really don't want to be reminded of... but if you found this a problem you really didn't watch the show. the main theme about this alternate universe is forgiveness, powder forgave Ekko (though tbh, it was really Vi's plan to go rob someone the whole time), vander and silco forgave each other etc etc. alt Ekko was slaving away at this project when Ekko (firelight) got thrust into his body. powder said it herself, genius and insanity go hand in hand, Ekko saying random things like this probably wasn't even a surprise. also saw a thumbnail where Ekko and powder were kissing and they put 'cheating' beside the image. hopefully I won't have to explain how stupid this is.

Ekko didnt just kiss powder and go 'I can fix jinx'. he doesn't want to change jinx into powder, he even admits that jinx has something good that powder doesn't, jinx's ideas can change the world. what Ekko learned from the alt universe and powder is forgiveness, to look at the past and move forward, leaving a few things behind, leaving behind hate, anger, for the present, for the future. he learned to forgive jinx, so they could build something new.

also adding the fact that it wasn't vi's death that changed everything, it was the act of a child, the fact that someone had been killed that points out how dangerous hextech is, and that's why it was never developed.

personal opinion here, I don't think it was just the death and the letter that changed everything, I think it was little details leading up to the moment silco forgave vander, the moment everything went right. it wasn't one spontaneous event that changed it. we don't know what happened in the alt universe, we don't know if the fight went differently, or if slico had done anything different... maybe he never developed shimmer, maybe he wasn't so set on revenge. we don't know, so maybe don't jump to conclusions so quickly?

another point: jinx didn't just magically lose her trauma because of Isha, dunno what you guys were thinking.

jinx in season one had obvious mental issues, and we always see her drowning out the noise with blaring music. the reason why she was like that was because of her internal conflict, of powder and jinx clashing. jinx was trying to forget the past, and powder was the one that kept remembering it. powder was the one that kept trying to insist it wasn't her fault. powder was the one that held on to everything, and jinx hated powder. and in S1E9 we see her let powder die.

she accepts that she is a jinx to people she loves. the voices stop calling her a jinx, because she already knows this. she accepts this. jinx ruin everything. jinx is a curse. it isn't a case where some kid comes in and changes everything, jinx isn't healed in season 2, she just accepts that she is a catastrophe.

the only thing Isha changes is that jinx learns to love powder through Isha, and maybe even lets a bit of powder come back through. and that's why, when Isha is thrown into Stillwater, the voices come back before jinx takes control again.

three: Caitlyn was done dirty, her entire character was ooc

no it was not. you just saw it through a different lens and decided you didn't like it.

like it or not, Cait has always been privileged. she goes where she wants, does what she likes because she has the kirramman family name to protect her. Marcus says it himself in S1, we just chose to ignore it because that's when cait was doing what we thought was right, investigating and helping Vi, although she was not an enforcer, had no right to be there, we liked it because, well, because we hate Marcus, and she was actually doing something right back then

till season 2, where she gasses Zaun, goes all hitler, and... acts exactly how she acted in S1. she does what she wants, goes where she likes, to achieve one thing: get revenge on jinx.

cait has never lost a parent, she has never learned to cope with such a loss, so she reacts in a wrong way, reacts so drastically that we feel is out of character, its not. we merely see her previous traits painted in a different light and y'all decided you hate it.

I could go on forever honestly, but these three points got on my nerves the most, so I decided to say something about it. there.

this is way too long, my god.

[kpop---scenarios]

Whispers Of The Night (3)

Pairing: Stray Kids x Reader

Genre: Vampire! Au, College! Au

Summary: You just want to live a happy life, but currently, that wasn't happening. It's not until you meet 8 strangers who turn your life upside down and you discover what they are.

Warning: Mentions of blood, Drinking, Violence [this is an 18+ story; will contain smut in future chapters]

Word Count: 3k

A/N: AND AS ALWAYS THANK YOU @skzdust FOR YOUR HELP I'M ETERNALLY GRATEFUL BESTIE

Taglist: @steddie-steddie @hongtyong @purple-bell

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykidss @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon

@dwaekkiiracha @silly250 @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

@satosugu4l @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @iovecb97

@1810cl @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat

@pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@anskiiz @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr

@jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @ayyonoona @31maze13

@stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited @hoesheez

@stayatinykatsy @catlove83 @jeonginstulip @kaleigh-2002

@honeycombbaybee @hyuneyeon @flylis @kpop-choco

@chloe-elise-2000 @eastjonowhere @stephanieeeyang

Part One | Part Two

The two days that you spent at the SKZ house, as they called it, were… interesting to say the least. You woke up on the earlier side to make sure you had enough time to get to class, and each day they were all awake, watching TV, working out, doing homework. You'd offer to make them breakfast as you made your own, but they all claimed to have eaten just after they woke up. There were no dishes in the sink, the same amount of food in the fridge. Not to mention their beds were always made up the same every morning. You'd never met college guys who were so… put together. It was throwing you off a little.

“So.” Sam smiles. “These guys you stayed with for a couple nights… any chance you're going to move on from Mark?” She asks.

You can't help it, but you roll your eyes at her question. You still weren't sure what you were going to do about him. You hadn't confronted him, fuck, tou hadn't even spoken to him since San dropped that ball on you the other day. While there was an attraction to, well, let's be honest, all of them, you technically, were still Mark's girlfriend, so the chance of you doing anything was even lower than zero. You weren't a cheater, you never understood the desire to hurt the person you're supposed to love most in this world but that's more than you can say for Mark.

“I mean, yeah they're all extremely attractive.” You laugh. “But I'm still with Mark, and until I figure out what I'm going to be doing, I won't be doing anything with them.” You murmur.

“Them!?” Sam gasps. “You wanna fuck them all.” She laughs. “I always knew you were fucking kinky.”

“Sam!” You laugh. “Jesus christ.”

The two of you laugh, finishing up your makeup, before getting dressed and heading out. Sam had wanted to get ready at the house with the boys, but with all the testosterone radiating in that house, you needed out for a few hours. Luckily for the both of you, Sam's parents were out of the evening so you had the house to yourselves.

“Come on, some shots before we go.” She says, walking into the kitchen. She grabs two shots glasses, pouring you each a shot of vodka.

“We cannot show up sober. A few shots each should do the trick.” She laughs.

You don't say anything, instead welcome the liquid burning your throat as you take shot after shot, desperately hoping for it to erase all your problems for at least one night. Once you were feeling tipsy enough, you and Sam got into your Uber, heading over to the boy's house. When you pull up, the party is already in full swing. There are people out in the front yard drinking, the front door is wide open, welcoming anyone and everyone to join.

“Wow.” Sam gasps. “This looks crazy!”

You laugh, grabbing her hand, pulling her towards the front door. The moment you stepped foot into the house, it was like all 8 of them knew you were there. Very quickly and one by one, they came up to you, giving you a hug to say hi and saying hi to Sam. By the time Minho, who was the last one to come up to you, said hi, Sam had smacked you so many times you thought you'd have a bruise in the shape of her hand on your arm for sure.

“Let's get a drink.” You murmur, pulling her towards the kitchen, not letting her say what you knew she desperately wanted too.

“They're all so fucking hot.” She yells into your ear as you're pouring you both drinks. You laugh as your stomach twists with anxiety. Yes they were, and you were definitely having troubles with that. As the two of you take a couple sips of your drinks, you begin to hear what sounds like a commotion in the living room.

“I know she's here, and I dont fucking appreciate you forcing her to live here! I'm her fucking boyfriend… me!” You hear.

Your stomach drops.

“Mark.” You whisper.

“Don't go out there. Just stay here. Maybe he'll leave.” Sam says. At this point the music had been turned way down, and everyone was crowding around all 8 men and Mark. You knew he wouldn't leave. He was too fucking stubborn. You pushed your way through the crowd of people until you stood beside Hyunjin, who glanced over at you, worriedly.

“What the fuck, y/n.” Mark snaps, motioning to the men. “So what, you're just out here being a whore now?” He asks.

Hyunjin steps forward, but Jeongin pulls him back. “Excuse me?” You ask. “No, I just figured we were done since you can't keep your dick in your pants.” You snap back.

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Mark groans, rolling his eyes.

“San told me, don't play fucking dumb.” You spit. “You never stopped seeing Chae, even after begging, and crying on your knees for me to stay.” You yell.

You wanted to laugh along with those laughing in the crowd, while Mark looked embarrassed.

“Why would I still see her if I told you I only wanted you?” He asks.

“Why would San lie about that? He's your best friend.” You say.

“Yeah, my best friend who's… in…love with you!” Mark mutters.

“What?” You respond. There was no way. Absolutely no way. You'd never gotten those vibes from San, not in the two years that you had been with Mark.

“Why else would he say that?” Mark asks. “Think about it.”

“I am thinking about it, and you're full of shit.” You laugh. “There's no way that San feels like that.”

“I don't feel like what?” San asks, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Mark here says that you lied about Chae, because you're in love with me.” You say. The alcohol you had drank was making you more courageous than you'd ever been in your life. Sober you would never.

“What the fuck?” San laughs. “No offense, y/n but I have a girlfriend that I love very much.” He says. “And Mark's known about her since we started dating, a year and a half ago.”

You turn your head, glaring at Mark, who in turn is glaring at San.

“Interesting.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

“Whatever, this isn't a conversation that should happen around others.” Mark scoffs. He grabs your wrist, yanking you towards him. “C'mon, let's go home.” He says.

“You know what, Mark?” You begin. “No.” You say, trying to free your wrist from his grasp.

“Y/n, now is not the time.” He snaps, looking around the room.

“I'm done. We're done. I don't trust you anymore. You've done nothing but lie to me. It's over.” You yell, pulling as hard as you can to free yourself.

“What's going on?” You hear from behind you, a familiar voice echoing through the almost silent room.

“Mark, you're hurting me!” You whine. Your wrist is beginning to throb and ache as you try to free yourself.

“Let her go.” You hear the same voice. Suddenly, Chan is beside you, his hand on top of Mark's. Chan didn't look like he was putting in any effort, but Mark's gave away how much pain he was in. Chan rips Mark's hand from around your wrist, pushing him back. Mark falls down to the floor.

“You're sleeping with him aren't you? Fucking whore.” Mark screams. Chan chuckles, taking two steps towards Mark, punching him in the face. You can hear the thump from his body dropping to the floor followed by the cries as he holds his face.

“We're not done! You won't find anyone like me! You're mine!” Mark screams.

Chan turns around to face you, and you weren't sure if it was because he saved you, or you were drunk, maybe a bit of both. But you walked up to him, grabbed his face, and quickly pressed your lips to his. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer. You can hear Mark swearing as San pulls him out the front door.

You break away from the kiss. You can't look Chan in the eyes. You turn away, your eyes now searching for Sam, and when you find her, her eyes are wide with a giant smile on her face. You push through the crowd, leaving Chan standing there as you grab her arm, dragging her into the kitchen. You open a bottle of something, you don't even care what it is. You put the bottle to your lips, chugging it, ignoring the burning sensation in your throat.

“Bitch.” Sam gasps as you put the bottle back down onto the counter, breathing heavily.

“Did I just do that?” You ask, staring at your best friend.

“Yeah.” She laughs. “Yes you did.”

“Oh my god.” You groan, drinking a little more.

“Okay, alright.” She laughs, taking the bottle from your hand. “Let's not black out.” She murmurs. It was too late. You were already gone.

The next morning, you wake up with the worst headache in the world. Sleeping on the couch for the last few days definitely did not help your body when it desperately needed to recover. You were sore, stiff and felt like you'd been run over by a truck. And then you remembered ending things with Mark.

“Fuck.” You gasp, dropping your head into your hands.

“Everything okay, beautiful?” Hyunjin asks, walking into the living room, plopping down onto the couch beside you.

“I broke up with Mark.” You murmur.

“It's about time, y/n.” Jeongin chimes in.

“Yeah, honestly. He's fucking awful, and that's coming from me.” Seungmin chuckles.

“Yeah, no, I know he was. But I just… I don't know what to do now.” You say. “All my stuff is there… and I have nowhere to go.”

“The fuck are we then? Did we become temporary housing and no one told me?” Minho asks. “You've been here for days, y/n. Let's just go get your stuff and make it official.” Changbin smiles.

“That's really sweet you guys… but.” You trail off.

“But what? You can't live with 8 guys?” Felix laughs.

“I can't sleep on this fucking couch anymore.” You fake cry. “My back… it hurts so bad.”

Everyone laughs.

“Well, it's a good thing there's a bedroom ready for you then.” Chan smiles.

You hadn't seen him since you kissed him. That you remembered very, very vividly, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. In what world would any of these gods like men, actually like you?

“Wait.” You pause, thinking about what Chan said. “A bedroom?” You ask.

“Of course.” He smiles. “You think we'd ask you to move in here and make you sleep on the couch?” Han laughs. “I mean… Seungmin or Minho might but not the rest of us.”

“You're not wrong.” Seungmin smiles.

“Wow.” You laugh. “Thank you guys.”

“Let’s not get all sappy here.” Minho mumbles. “Can we go get your stuff now?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

The nine of you get ready to head over to your old shared apartment with Mark, unsure of what was going to happen.

You stood outside the door, the number 7 on the door looked different, even though it had only been a few days. You took a deep breath, glancing over at the 8 men that were waiting a little down the hall. You had told them that you needed to do this part by yourself. You were worried that if he opened the door and all of them were standing there, he might end up in a fit of rage. Though, you should have known better that he would end up in one regardless. You knocked on the door, putting your hands behind your back as you waited for him to answer. The door was pulled open, and Mark looked shocked to see you, before a smug ‘I knew she would be back’ look spread across his face.

“Y/N.” He breathes. You put your hand up to stop him from saying whatever he wanted to next.

“I'm just here to grab my stuff.” You explain, avoiding any eye contact with him. He doesn't move out of your way. You want to go inside and start packing the things that belong to you but he stands there still staring.

“Y/N.” He says in a low tone. “Don't be like that, baby.” He smiles. “C'mon. You know you wanna come back home.”

“Actually, what I'd like, is for you to get the fuck out of my way so I can get my stuff and go.” You say, giving Mark your best, annoyed smile.

“And if I don't?” He asks. “If I don't get out of your way? Then what? You gonna punch me like your little boyfriend did?” He mocks.

“No.” You sigh. “But they might hit you.” You say, motioning down the hallway. Mark peeks his head around the door frame, seeing 8 angry and annoyed looking men leaning against the wall.

“You’re such a bitch.” He mumbles, stepping out of your way. You smile, waving to the guys to come with you inside.

You walk past Mark, and can hear him grumbling as each man steps inside. They're all taller, more muscular, better looking, smarter, and funnier than Mark was, and he knew it too.

“Lets get this done, and get the fuck out of here.” You say, everyone scatters to tackle a room. It took the nine of you 4.5 hours, and a trillion questions about what was yours, for you all to finally finish. Mark didn't help at all, and that wasn't a surprise. He didn't want you to leave or leave him, and he was sure to continuously let you know throughout the afternoon.

“Y/N, wait.” Mark says, as you follow the guys out of the apartment. You don't wait, until he grabs your wrist again.

“Let go.” You spit. “This didn't end well for you the last time and it won't end well this time either.”

“Just wait a fucking minute.” He grumbles. “Don't go. Stay with me. Please.”

“No.” You deadpan. “I have no interest in being lied to or cheated on any longer. I hope I never see you again.”

You rip your wrist from his grip, walking down the hall.

“I'll have you again! You'll see! You'll be back when they inevitably kick your ass out!” He screams.

If only he knew how that would never happen.

“Ready?” Changbin asks, grinning from ear to ear. His hand was on the door knob for your room, and honestly you were so excited.

“Yes! Please open it.” You say, nearly falling over from excitement. He turns the knob, opening the door and your jaw is almost on the floor. It was exactly your style, a nice queen bed sitting in the middle of the room that was painted your favorite color. Everything matched, every single part of the room was your exact vibe and you were eternally grateful.

You had put a lot of your stuff in storage, since they had all told you that you wouldn't need a lot of it. To be honest you thought they were full of shit, but here they were, definitely not full of shit.

“We'll let you get settled.” Chan smiles, ushering the men to leave you be.

“Thank you guys. Really. I love it.” You smile.

It felt weird. To have people who truly cared for you like they did. You were worried that they would turn on you, because that seems to be the trend for people in your life. Your mom, dad, Mark, past friends. There was always something that made them leave you. You already felt a strong bond with all 8 of them, so you hoped nothing like that would happen but honestly, you can never truly prepare for the future.

That night, you sat outside on the front porch by yourself, wrapped in one of your new blankets from your new room. It was almost entirely pitch black out, almost silent except for the sounds of cars passing and the faint sounds of people walking by. The only light you had was the cherry from your roach, each time you took a puff, as well as the stars that scattered throughout the sky. The moon was high, shining down on the trees. It was a truly beautiful night.

You felt so relieved and free tonight. Mark hated when you smoked weed, so you weren't ever able to. But now with him out of the picture, you were excited to be able to partake in your favorite way to relax and unwind. You inhaled a long puff, slowly blowing it back out, enjoying the way it was making you feel. You weren’t very high, but it was enough. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, taking a breath when you hear a noise. A grunt, maybe. Your eyes shoot open, you see Jeongin walking towards the front steps of the house. As he walks closer, you see him more clearly under the front door light. There's blood dripping down his face. Your stomach sinks. He looks mad. You stand up, dropping your blanket on the porch, rushing towards him.

“Hey, Jeongin.” You start, popping up in front of him.

His eyes. They're red.

“Are you okay?” You ask, motioning towards the blood. He doesn't respond. He doesn't move. It doesn't even look like he's breathing. You can feel the tension surrounding you and him. It was making your stomach churn.

He stares at you, it almost feels like his eyes are burning through your skin.

Your eyes close.

When they open, the sun is shining through your window. You're laying in your bed, your blanket, that you dropped covering you.

What the fuck happened last night?

[multiisketch]

SPOILERS FOR SONIC 3 END CREDITS BELOW!

Okay, so... I may have a potential plot for the fourth movie... There's likely some holes in the idea but it's been running through my head since watching the 3rd film's end credits, so... you know enjoy!

It's CD and Heroes inspired.

Imagine, if you will with me, that Amy and Metal Sonic come from a BAD FUTURE.

In the original timeline, sometime after the 3rd film, Sonic meets Amy and they go on an adventure to save her home, Little Planet, from corruption. Only, while there, Sonic gets captured/lost/tragically injured leaving Amy alone. Metal Sonic is created by the evil powers that be on Little Planet (not Eggman; some original entity that wants to turn everything living into machinery) in mock of the hero. Having lost Sonic, Amy gathers up special gems that exist on Little Planet, the time stones, and travels back in time to find Sonic before their adventure, hoping to stop all this before it can begin. Metal Sonic follows her.

Cut to the end credit scene in 3. Amy tells Sonic she has come to help him stop Metal Sonic from conquering his world and her home if not the rest of the galaxy. She's very familiar with him, but doesn't explain why, leaving Sonic uncomfortable and untrusting. This references back to her clinginess in her original depiction, while it being more about the fact that she knew and lost him than a lovesick obsession. Sonic's awkwardness isn't because he finds her annoying. There's something she's not telling him.

The movie follows Amy and Team Sonic attempting to stop this army of Metal Sonic's from conquering the planet by finding their leader. Here, we do a fake-out. It's Eggman! He's somehow back from the dead! Again! He was working with the entity on Little Planet who found him after he was launched into space! Only, no. He's not. This is NEO Metal Sonic, the original Metal Amy encounter and leader of the others whom he created himself. Just like in Heroes he wants Sonic and Shadow's bio-data so he can become Metal Overlord and take over. Shadow would rejoin everyone else through NEO Metal Sonic finding and targeting him just as he did with Sonic. For some reason, NEO seems to have an affinity for Amy. Sonic's suspicions are raised further.

Sometime in the Third Act, Neo Metal Sonic taunts Sonic by asking him if Amy has told him his bleak future. This prompts Sonic to begin drilling Amy about what happened. This is when she explains herself in full. Only there is an element they are both missing. Amy thought Sonic was killed, kidnapped, or worse...

In actuality the evil on Little Planet MADE him into Metal Sonic, corrupting him like it did the planet. NEO Metal is her original Sonic. He's angry for being abandoned, angry at being replaced. Angry that he'll never get to be with his family again. His mind is twisted by the machinery he is made of now, but he is still the REAL SONIC.

The final battle would be against Metal Overlord. They'd beat him bad. He wouldn't be dead and gone at the end. Sonic would want to redeem him. After all, Metal Sonic is a version of him. Back in his base form, the original Metal Sonic would run off. Or, maybe, Tails would power him off and keep him in their tool shed. Maybe hope there would be a way to restore him back to normal, but the chance is slim.

The last step would be to head to Little Planet. Sonic, Amy, and co. would go to the planet's past using the time stones to put the kibosh on the takeover before it can really begin (just like in CD!)

Just when they return to the present, thinking time is fixed, a certain time traveler shows up to tell them it's not!

[puckpocketed]

Trying to absorb everything there is to know about ice hockey within the shortest amount of time possible really does strange things to a person. You come up against questions such as what do defensemen even do aside from skate backwards and do tummy time to protect their goalie? (Broadcasts aren’t the most informative) What the hell makes defensemen effective? What do the casters mean when they say “gap”? What are defensive details?

I love watching games back, I love trying to understand the game. I love hockey <3 But sometimes it’s nice to have help, and sometimes my favourite writers/podcasters collaborate!!

Here is part 1/3 of a podcast mini-series about defending, putting it here so I can have a copy of it in case it ever gets taken down + wanted to share with everyone some of my findings! (All episodes are available if anyone just wants to listen to them!) Transcript + edits done by me, all mistakes are mine.

Published 6th November 2024, Hockey IQ Podcast: Modern Defensemen (with Will Scouch) Ep #1 - by Hockey's Arsenal, hosted by Greg Revak (apple / spotify / youtube / bonus substack link)

part 2

[START Transcript]

Greg Revak: On the Hockey IQ Podcast today, we open up a new segment: we’re bringing back our favourite Will Scouch. If you’re on the Hockey IQ Newsletter you know his work by now.

Will, good morning. Earlier than most of us probably normally get up, but it’s a good day.

Will Scouch: Yeah, Greg, thanks for having me, it’s a lot of fun. Me and Greg go way back. We’re boys from years ago and I’m excited to hop on the show. I’m a keen listener, keen reader. 

[They exchange pleasantries]

GR: Beautiful. Well, today we’re gonna talk about three concepts. We’re gonna break it into three spots though, so everyone’s gotta come back next week and the week after that.

We’re gonna talk about defensemen, because everyone knows they’re important but how do we actually play the position well?

WS: Yeah, I mean, it’s a position that’s still, to me, being explored; both by, I’d say youth and junior coaches and pro coaches alike. There’s a lot of different ways that you can do it.

I mean, I watch a lot of hockey from around the world, all kinds of different levels. I’ve watched guys develop from 15 to 24 at this point, and just seeing how their games evolve and everything, and how effective various versions of this position is. And I think it’s a very interesting area that’s still being explored in a lot of really interesting ways, for sure.

GR: Yeah, I think back to David Savard; he comes out of the [QMJHL] as this high-flying offensive defenseman, and if we just forgot about the rest of his career and you just saw him today as this great shutdown, defense-first player, you’d be absolutely shocked.

I mean, you think about Rasmus Dahlin — kid didn’t even play full time defenseman until his actual draft year, he was still playing forward a ton. There’s so much to be explored here.

I feel like [to get a lot of] — for you NHL fans — to get a lot of value in the later rounds out of your defensemen, take those offensive players first, and we can find a lot of hidden gems later.

WS: Well, yeah. I mean, actually, I’ve said this a few times but your listeners probably don’t know, but I did a presentation during the pandemic at the Ottawa Hockey Analytics Conference about this topic exactly; how, when you look at the numbers and the defensive value of players in the NHL, I found that there were just as many in the top 50 defensive value of players in the NHL, there were just as many undrafted players as there were second round picks, second and third round picks combined.

So the draft isn’t really a great historical gauge on defensive ability. Offense is a different story from defensive players, which we could probably get into a little bit.

But I find, personally, that evaluating defensemen and projecting defense to the NHL is still really spotty and questionable. And I don’t know, in my line of work, watching a lot of defensemen, a lot of the ones who I think are some of the better defenders kind of go a little unheralded, because a lot of the time you don’t need to be particularly noticeable to be a good defenseman, but scouts are always looking for the noticeable guys.

So it’s a very interesting world and it’s a very interesting thing to pick through, but there’s definitely a lot of case studies you could dig into, and a lot of players you could look at as cases of, “Oh yeah, nobody was really paying a whole lot of attention to them!” or maybe people were thinking about them the wrong way. But if you think about things a little bit outside the box, you might be able to see something really interesting there.

GR: Yeah, so let's dive into why that may be. Classic example would be Lane Hutson, so maybe we'll pick on him a little bit, but I definitely want to talk about Rasmus Ristolainen, because he is an interesting case study that we wrote about on the newsletter.

So where I want to start with this is just modern day defending. How are defensemen defending today versus old times? A lot of times it was the big hit, separate the head from body. The puck’s somewhere, but let's separate the head from the body, and we’ll worry about the puck later — that is going bye-bye.

Every coach I talk to now, they prefer having the puck rather than having a head on a stake. So for me, it comes back to this old saying of, “position before possession.” We're gaining body positioning, we're not so much separating head from body, but puck from player.

All right, so we've got position before possession. It's super valuable in gaining the space that you need to have first whack in a puck or put the puck where you want it, or just push it to a teammate. Just having the idea of owning space and there's no better league at this and no league that values it more than the NHL. If you don't do this well in the NHL, sooner or later, you're going to find yourself out of a job making a heck of a lot less money in a league that probably no one really cares that much about. You want to be in the show, the big lights: you have to value this more than anything.

And this is actually the one thing that I noticed about Hunter McDonald. He's in the Flyers’ system now — he was an overager, but I was like, “This guy is unbelievable!” He’s a huge frame, you can’t miss him out there. He would just get the positioning before possession, and I was like, “Okay, that’s interesting, let me watch him further.”

And I feel like he’s going to be one of those bottom of the lineup guys who, unlikely, made it out of being an overager in the [United States Hockey League], going to college for a few years, but has those little details of a defenseman that you see in modern day play, which is positioning overall, which is an NHL trait to the nth degree.

WS: No, I know. I think I would definitely agree. Those are the players that are always really, really fascinating to me because you look at a guy like Hunter McDonald and the production just isn't amazing. But it doesn't — to me, when you look at defensemen, it almost doesn't really matter. That's kind of a very secondary-slash-bonus style of thing that comes with a player.

I see a lot of defenders every year and it seems like a thing where a lot of them, maybe at the lower levels, there is a little bit more of that “separate the head from the body”-type of player. And I think there are NHL scouts who still gravitate towards those guys but, at the end of the day when it all comes out in the wash, it's a lot of the time the guys that are kind of, I hate to say ”boring”, but just very effective, and just they're always in a good position.

The guy I always reference as a young defenseman who, I think, is just a really, really high-end defensive guy is Kaiden Guhle in Montreal. We're going to talk a little bit about Lane Hutson in a second, but Kaiden Guhle is a guy who, when he was in the junior level, just played such a great, balanced style of defense.

He was a good skater, but he had really good length. He was a guy who didn't just lay the body every single time, but he certainly could if he needed to. It was about his lateral mobility, it was about tracking rushes, keeping inside the dot lines, and preventing chances from inside and leading with his stick, but then finishing with the body if he had the opportunity or the need to do so. And he seemed to have a really good read of just how to do his job really, really well.

And so that's been a lesson for me for sure. He was a really interesting case study a few years ago, and he's become a pretty solid NHL defenseman. I mean, on a team this year that’s kind of struggling defensively I think he’s been one of the brighter spots on that defense group there, [he’s] doing a pretty good job at least suppressing chances against.

GR: I don’t watch as much as you do, prospects, but Guhle I did catch. For me, the play style wasn’t very good. He had elements of it, you could see the flashes, but he was just really brash. His decision making and his reads were quite poor. But the tools were there, and it was like, “Can he adjust?” Which I think he’s done a phenomenal job [of], and I think Montreal is probably the perfect place for him to develop a lot of that.

So I think you're spot on like, “Okay, how does he actually apply?“ Having assets is one thing, having the tools is one thing, but how do we properly apply those assets, those tools that you have in a good way? So I think another piece, for me, is if you do have the speed, is just making sure that you're controlling speed and then you're also keeping small gaps.

And just knowing with my high school team that no one knows what a gap is, let's define that real quick, which is: the difference in space between the forwards and the defensemen. So the space in between, “How much space are you [allowing]?” in hockey term slang. It's underneath you versus on the other side, which is above you or behind you. So, “How much space, what's that gap between D and O?”

(Editor’s note: He says O instead of F here, I assume because the person attacking isn’t always a forward. As in, “How much space between the defenseman and offenceman?”)

So you got the speed, shrink that gap as much as possible. Don't give them the space to operate or work in, or, I even call it the space to think, which [it often becomes] for forwards, especially unsophisticated ones.

WS: Yeah, I mean, that's really the bread and butter of a lot of the position. It's so much of this, like you said, gap control. I actually just did a bit of video work for a really high end player, [an] NHL draft pick playing in Sweden this year, who is producing really well.

But in terms of the defending side of the game, he's not the most incredible skater you've ever seen, he's not the biggest guy in the world. And a big thing that I noticed, that even at the professional level that was kind of a bit of a work in progress, was that gap management. Especially because the footwork wasn't amazing, [he was] keeping his feet a little too stationary, gliding backwards and sort of allowing that gap.

And when you watch the NHL that's the point of the whole exercise, watching the NHL and how they play. Forwards are fast and they're smart, largely. The guys who can score are the guys who know how to get through soft defensive pressure, the guys who know how to find lanes and cross up defensemen, and if you don't have the footwork or the mobility or the reach or all of it — all of the above — to track all that and manage it, then it's going to be a lot tougher to do your job.

But the interesting thing, though, is that there's a lot of different ways that you can get defensive jobs done. That's always been very interesting to me; seeing how different players approach the position in different ways and seeing the efficacy of that come out in the wash, and how their offense balances with their defensive ability. It's a very interesting world to dig into, for sure.

GR: Yeah, I think you've got a rabbit hole there. You just kind of opened up around defensive skating. What do clean feet look like? What does defensive posture look like, that actually allows you to have that kind of mobility?

So we'll leave that for another day. If anyone wants to go check it out on the Hockey IQ Newsletter, they can do so. Just look up defenseman skating development. We've got two good pieces there talking about building and maintaining defensive posture and keeping clean feet, which — actually massive base for anyone.

It allows you to have the proper gap that allows you to kill plays early, and ultimately, it's a lot about just controlling speed. You don't want McDavid building up to full speed. You don't want MacKinnon building up to full speed. You don't want anyone coming up to you at full speed. It's very hard to maintain that kind of speed going backwards [that we] even generate in the first place. 

How do you kill it early? How do you get a hand on someone? Or, my favorite example is just proper pivoting. A guy dumps a puck on you, how are you going back? What does that pivot look like?

I'll let you open that up because at the NHL it's almost too good, where you can't see what a bad example looks like, but you can see it's everywhere.

WS: Yeah, I mean, it's a make or break skill in the NHL. It's where a lot of defensemen die. I mean, it's a cliche at this point to talk about pucks in deep, to talk about [getting] pucks deep in the offensive zone, get below the goal line, dump and chase. People make fun of dump-and-chase kind of stuff. But if your team is built to do it, you can do it.

You can take advantage of defensemen in the NHL who just don't have the speed or the agility or the skating ability that some of your forwards might have. It is a lot easier to skate forwards than it is to skate backwards. That's just, you know, anecdotal, but also pretty factual — you're naturally going forwards.

I think an interesting trend that you're seeing a little bit more of [is] what they would call ‘scooting’. You're the coach; I don't know if that's exactly what the terminology would be, but [it’s getting] your defensemen in the neutral zone, kind of pinching a little bit more and having them skate forwards, tracking play towards the boards.

So it's not necessarily that they're doing their backwards crossovers, it's not necessarily that they're entirely skating backwards, but you see guys who are really talented skaters or do have a lot of quickness driving play to the boards in a more aggressive way than having the play in front of them. It's about them sort of tracking that play laterally, which is an interesting thing I think you're seeing more of now.

I think there are definitely coaches and systems that love to play their defensemen more that way, and the weak side defense can sort of fill between the dot lines for them and sort of leave the weaker side of the ice a little bit more open. That's kind of what I mean. There's a lot of different ways to achieve these kinds of goals, and I think you're seeing a lot of different things popping up to adapt to this. 

In situations where you have a dump and chase or something like that, or just getting pucks in deep or whatever you say, when you have a defenseman who has trouble with their footwork and turning around… Trust me, I'm a defenseman, when I play hockey, I strap on the skates — I play defense myself and that's where I fall apart, when I do fall apart. Which is often. But definitely, when play turns around and I’ve got to change directions or change my area of flow, it can be tricky. And in the NHL, I can only imagine how tricky it can be there. 

GR: Yeah. I mean, a good pivot you're looking at three steps total, like boom-boom-bam and you're there. You watch an amateur game and it could be like five, six, seven, eight chops before [they] finally get going and [it’s] looking like a proper forward stride again. [Or just] getting into a good defensive posture and positioning. It's total scramble mode.

A big one for me, too, is just the direction that you pivot. Do you wait for that offensive player to commit to their lane? It's just a great defensive habit in general, letting the offenceman make the first move. If you're making the first move, you're the one showing your cards. It's kind of like showing your cards first in Poker.

Let them make the decision and then you can pivot into them. Now you can get that position before possession, or at least get a chip on them, slow them down. You can either make it easier for yourself or your partner. So one, there's the clean footwork on the pivot, and two is making sure that we're controlling the speed and we're pivoting properly in the direction that we want to pivot.

There's a ton of times where I see, especially the lower levels, players coming up, they're in a bad spot, they're skating forward, defenseman skating backwards and they just chip it off the boards. And the defenseman is like a dog just following the puck and it ends up in the middle of the ice where the forward actually went. Again, the NHL is the best at this so it's really hard to see bad examples of pivoting into and controlling the space of the opponent.

WS: Yeah. I do a lot of work outside the NHL, and the biggest thing I notice is not necessarily the number of chops it takes, but the amount of time. You can see guys taking two seconds, maybe more, to get themselves turned around, tracking pucks below the goal line.

To me hockey is a game of milliseconds a lot of the time, right? I was working with someone years ago who really shared the idea with me that, in the NHL, generally goals are not scored if you have the puck on your stick for more than either half a second or a second.

I can't remember off the top of my head, but it's so fast in terms of; when you score goals in the NHL, it's when you touch the puck for a very short amount of time in the offensive zone and get a puck on net. And so, if you have guys who take too long — and “too long” might not be very long… If the difference is relatively short at the time you're making those pivots or those changes, but the [opponent has] got a lot more speed than you and you're [taking more] time to then start generating that speed to match the opponent, you're in trouble.

And in my opinion, I think that you want your defensemen to be more assertive. I always fall back on the strategy of; make them make a decision, make them commit. That might imply that you do the committing first, but that's where the importance of footwork and tactics come into question. 

You have to have strong support, whether it's from backchecking forwards or your partner. You want to be able to adapt to quick players who might fake one way, go another, and be able to use your stick or use your feet or both to be a factor regardless of what happens. 

It's very interesting to watch defensemen play. I find it really, really interesting to see the different approaches of different players and especially how they evolve and get into the NHL.

But yeah, I mean, [it’s so pivotal], the skating ability; defensemen who can skate, it unlocks so many doors for their career. If you're an elite level skating defenseman, it just unlocks so many doors that interest me. If you're not, and if that's not a strength of your game, then it can be a big struggle, especially against faster opponents. Even if you're big and physical and pretty good throwing the body or whatever, there's a lot more of the game in the NHL these days. Very, very interesting stuff. 

GR: I think that's actually the perfect segue into someone who, early in his career, threw the body too much and sold out too much on plays that he probably shouldn't: Rasmus Ristolainen.

Great case study, great case study from when [John Tortorella] started working with him to where he is now. Will, I'll send in the link here from the Hockey IQ newsletter so we can track a little bit better with each other. 

I found him to be a fascinating player. High draft pick, 8th overall in 2013. Really pretty, smooth skating, big body — has all of the tools that you would traditionally say, “Yep, that checks [out].” And then you looked at his stat profile and it was just abysmal. His micro stats were terrible. I think the only thing he was good at was D-Zone Retrievals, which, being able to take contact, it was kind of an easy thing for him.

WS: Yeah. I remember watching Ristolainen when he was in junior hockey, because that was the earliest years of me being kind of curious about that side of the game, and I did not really recall that being a premier area of his game.

I remember him being big, but pretty mobile, and has some skill to play around with. He did have a bit of a physical edge to him, but it feels like it was that tail end of an era in the NHL where those big, mean, physical guys were kind of in vogue, and people were kind of curious and needing guys like that. And I guess that's what Buffalo drafted him to be.

I remember being very surprised that he was in the NHL the year he was drafted. It just did not look like it was really working out there. And Buffalo just seems to have been not a great fit for him, they kind of turned him into something that he wasn't, but I do think that he's turned into some sort of serviceable defenseman.

But he, to me, is a great example of one that I always look back on and go, “Man, what if?” Like, what if things went a little bit differently for him? Because there was good stuff there, it's just I feel like the development was focused in the wrong areas.

To me, 65% of the work [is] scouting, and developing — the easy part is drafting good players, the hard part is developing them and bringing them along into being good NHL players.

So to me, if you can find the most amount of things that get in the way of that process being easy, then you're doing a really good job. And with Ristolainen, I feel like in his case they inserted more things to make that journey more difficult and sort of turned him into something that he wasn't, which is always a scary thing for me to think about doing to a player.

But it's not over for him, obviously. He figured it out. Obviously, Tortorella found something for him to do, and he has shown a little bit better. But yeah, he's always been a what-if guy for me.

GR: I always liked how Tortorella, after the 2022-2023 season, was doing his media stuff and he was like “Yeah, he's our most improved player.” You're a guy who's getting paid big bucks — I think he was making five million plus that year, still is, probably — and even him, he was like, “I was just bad the first half. And then around Christmas break, I started getting going. The second half was much better.”

Basically, the first half, they were just trying to rebuild his defensive game, and this is true for anything. Zach Benson's another good example of this. If you can't play defense in the NHL, you're going to be out quick. Benson can play defense despite being — I think they list them at five foot 10, but there's no way.

WS: Yeah, no, no. I know. He's a little guy, but he's another great example of a player where I, in my work, I do not care how big you are. I just care about how you play. Even in the NHL. And I feel like Benson's a really, really good example of that; a guy who, just forechecking alone is a really… The easiest way to defend is if he can cause turnovers in the opposing team's offensive zone, a guy like Zach Benson does that extremely well.

And if he needs to track guys through the neutral zone and backcheck, he'll do it, and he does it really well, and he does it at a speed that I found to be projectable to the NHL. And again, that's another one where I was a little surprised to see him in the NHL so fast, but he didn't really look out of place there.

He's had a bit of a slow start this season, but just a really, really talented player, and one where you kind of do look at and go, “Yeah, these smaller guys can definitely defend.” They just — the expectations are a little bit higher, and maybe for good reason, but he checks all the boxes for sure.

GR: Yeah. So for Rasmus (Ristolainen), there's two big things that, when I dug into this, that Torts was working at. At this point, I was so intrigued [that] I was tracking every single time Torts spoke and Rasmus spoke to the media. So I was like, “I wonder what they're actually doing?” Which, Torts can be tight-lipped, but he gives it away if you follow long enough.

The big one was just inside, like too much, he was finding himself, Rasmus was finding himself on the outside. So whether that be outside the dots, outside on bad ice, for whatever reason, or just finding yourself outside, like losing defensive side positioning to the offensive player.

If you finish contact, but now you're on the wall and your player's got to step to the net, that's trouble. There's a great, great clip the other night featuring, I think it was (Aliaksei) Protas [who] ended up scoring the goal and K’Andre Miller of the New York Islanders. So Caps — Rangers, not Islanders — Rangers… Where [Miller] went in soft, didn't really take positioning, got beat back to net, and Protas just put out a stick and just tapped it in, Igor Shesterkin never had a chance.

A similar idea of; okay, good, maybe you got some contact, you tried to make the stop, but you still need to maintain defensive side positioning. You still need to finish on the inside. So if you're doing contact, you can't overreach.

You just can't do that. You have to stay in good positioning.

And the second piece was just, finishing with contact to get stops, like stopping movement. Offensive play is a lot about movement, and defensive play is about stopping movement, AKA getting stops. So he would maybe make a play, or get a poke check, but the puck was still moving and could be easily on the other team's stick. 

So how do you make sure you're always staying in good positioning? Staying on the inside, as Torts put it. Or the other piece, which is getting stops, or finishing with contact — but smartly, not chasing the contact for contact’s sake? Being tactful in your play.

I feel like Risto really just learned how to play defense smartly. He was actually thinking and being intentional about what he was doing, rather than like, “I see a puck and a player, I'm going to go end that!” And then, boom, in the big scheme of things, it’s a net negative. Even though at the moment, it may have, especially to him — otherwise he wouldn't make the play — seemed like a positive, really it was a negative for the team.

WS: Well, that's the interesting thing too, going back to talking about junior players and the context in the draft and how defensive players might go a little bit underreported or undervalued in a sense.

I see this all the time, especially with North American defensemen, especially with Canadian ones, but there are definitely players who everybody talks about how good they are defensively, everybody talks about how solid they are. They're big, they're physical, they're mean, blah, blah, blah. But then when you watch things in detail, it's this sort of Ristolainen-style thing. You're talking about K’Andre Miller where it's like, they're along the boards, they're doing the thing along the boards, but they're losing.

They're allowing guys to get low on them, get through them, and even in the junior level, right? What good is it if you're trying to pin a guy against the boards and they give you a little shove, crouch down a little bit, chip the puck three feet out from you, you don't adapt to that, they get three feet of space on you, throw it out in front of the net, and boom, you got yourself a scoring chance, right? I see that all the time.

It's the focus on the body and not focus on the turnover, turning that possession back over, that really seems to be a tough lesson for a lot of defensemen to get over. I find that a lot of defensemen from the age of 18 to 23, in the grand scheme of things, their style of play doesn't drastically shift all that often.

And so, when I see things like that happening, I'm going, okay, I gotta either hope that this guy puts in the time in the gym and becomes, just, a strength nut, and pins that guy to the boards so they can't do anything, or they figure out a way to get into those situations, take a step back, chip at the puck. Really battle for the puck rather than focus on the guy.

Because I've seen it so many times with guys who are bigger and more physical, they apply it in a way where I feel like coaches will go, “Wow, look at you go, you're playing hard, you're playing the thing!” But then they escape, this opponent might escape, and create a little bit of space for themselves. And again, this is a game of inches, it's a game of a couple of feet, and every inch matters.

So in some cases, yeah, you get those situations where guys like Ristolainen, yeah, you're doing the thing, people clip the hits, people clip the physical play, but then five seconds later, someone's got some space on you and they generate a scoring chance. And so what do you really value, right? Personally, fewer scoring chances would be ideal.

GR: I love it. Last piece to wrap this up, because I think it'll go well into our next piece, which is point play. Shorting the zone.

I was able to find some phenomenal clips and do some photos of this for the newsletter. But the concept of; if you're watching a game in the NHL, if you can see all five of the people trying to break the puck out, low in the zone… A lot of it, you think about the NHL today, is like a swarm. We're going to do close support. I'm going to try to crowd the puck out.

A good way to respond to that is to short the zone, which basically means your defensemen, instead of hanging out at the blue line, are going to go into the offensive zone. And they're going to start with small gaps, they're going to be [at the] top of the circles, if not a little bit lower.

Tortorella is another big fan of this, so you can see it with the Flyers a lot, too. I would say [Sheldon] Keefe is another example of a coach who does this a ton. So you saw a lot in Toronto, now you'll see a lot more in New Jersey, which is  the perfect d-core to make all of this work. So I think Devils are going to be good for — that's going to be a great fit.

But just the idea of crowding in the space, setting small gaps, so when you do start defending, you can either cut a play off early — it's an easy pinch there if you don't have to go very far — you can cut it off. Or, 2; create a turnover in a much better spot than what is in your own zone. Why not make it in the o-zone? So from a positioning standpoint, phenomenal place to start, good way to kill plays early.

Before they can get going, before the team can build speed, and just being able to put yourself in a good spot to take advantage both from a defensive standpoint, but offensive standpoint.

WS: Yeah, I love when I see this being deployed. I think, again, I'm a geek, like I'm a math guy, and even just thinking about the numbers here, it makes such a difference if you think about it.

The offensive zone from blue line to goal line is 64 feet. So you're looking at the difference between a guy standing at the blue line being maybe 75 feet from the net or at the top of the face-off circle where you might be 20 feet closer, maybe 20, 25 feet closer. So you're cutting down the time at which you give the defense to adapt, the goaltender to adapt. You're cutting that time down by a third-ish, a quarter to a third. I'm ballparking here, but that automatically is just based on where you are on the ice.

If you can compress the offensive zone on your opponent, you're laughing. The second thing I wanted to mention here is this is, again, why skating ability and quickness and speed are so important to me. Because it is objectively a better position to be in when you're in that position — closer to the top of the face-off circles for your defensemen.

But if you do have a situation where the opponent has possession of the puck you have to get set up, you have to cover that gap, you have to cover for yourself, or you have to have some sort of system in place where a winger can cover for you if you're caught in the offensive zone. Ideally, you have your defensemen who can wheel up, get some speed going, get positioned well to counter that attack, and have a system that can swarm whoever has that puck in the offensive zone.

I think it's a really interesting trend for sure. It's a simple little thing, it's a concept that you see definitely a lot more now than you used to, but I'm all about it. It just makes sense mathematically, and it plays into exactly the styles of player that I always look for: guys who do pinch a little bit more aggressively, but have the mobility and the skating ability to cover for themselves.

I would rather have a player who tries something creative, or tries some sort of play that could lead to a high scoring chance, but may relinquish some space on the ice, but has the ability to cover for themselves.

And I can at least as a coach, rely on them — not that I'm a coach — but rely on them to cover for themselves. To go, okay, I can rely on them to try these things, because I know that if it doesn't maybe go their way, which happens in hockey all the time, I'm not going to be upset at this player, but I know that I want them to backcheck, cover for it, because I know they're capable of it.

I think that that's sort of the trade off that you have to live with, but I'm totally cool with it.

GR: All right, so we're going to call this end of the day on some modern day defending, and we'll pick up on point play in episode two.

[END Transcript.]

part 2 <- convenient link at the bottom <3

[neverending-shenanigans]

Look, I don't disagree with you, per se, but here's the thing: this is all just in theory. The game fails to show this in a meaningful way or in a way that is satisfying from an RPG point of view.

Everybody matters for the success? Cool. How so? If I literally leave them behind in the lighthouse for the rest of the game, it makes no difference.

I love Emmerich, dearly, but what exactly does he do in the Veilguard? Is the game saying the few time he talks to corpses are so vital to our success that the world is doomed without him?

None of the former games (to my knowledge) implied that not recruiting someone screwed everything over completely.

And if the game wants me to see that this is different, because the stakes are higher? Well, game, show me directly what happens if I don't recruit people, make them as vital as you claim they are. And have a number of quests where I can feel their absence if i don't have them around as the experts for necessary tasks (and I mean more than these funky little dagger mechanics or that one final battle, alright). Let me experience how much worse off everyone is if I don't help them. Or if I give them bad advice, if I make them objectively into worse people.

Tie their personal narrative more strongly to the main issue. Balance them out a little. Have Zara's blood magic be a vital part of the ritual Elgar'nan is preparing. Have Isseya actually blight a griffon or two for Ghilly and let them do some hefty damage to the Anderfels or elsewhere. Let Rivain be under siege by the Dragon King and his mind-controlled beasts. Make everyone's issues matter equally with options for real Bad Outcomes.

RPGs used to be about the consequences of my actions, about having choices with actual impact within the game narrative itself, and those were more than just one bad ending option.

This would also be a way to make sure that "these are professionals" can come across. By showing me what happens if they aren't. If we aren't - if Rook isn't.

Don't just have the narrative put up a red tape that says "you cant, because you shouldnt".

Not to mention that I frankly think it does the characters a disservice by saying that "they are professionals" somehow means that they dont have issues, they have to like you, they have to grow as people.

Bioware had a fantastic system in DA2 in the rivalry system which allowed for much more interpersonal nuances. This would have solved a lot of issues here, even if we are in a set-up in which characters will stay with you no matter what. They stay with you for the cause, but they hate you personally. How many professionals feel like that about their Boss and co-workers?How many professionals are great at exactly one thing but still assholes anyway?

And I have seen it be thrown around that "Rook cannot be an asshole because Varric wouldn't have picked them". That feels like cop-out to me. And does not make sense for narrative consistency. He is not some sort of infallible Thedas Jesus. There is precedent for him being wrong about people.

Varric recruited Hawke for his brother's expedition and Hawke had much more potential/freedom to be an ass (to the point in which Varric might end up as a drunkard for it, because Bioware used to include consequences). Varric was as much part of the disaster/tragedy/failure of Kirkwall as the rest of that crew. Varric didn't see Anders' plan coming, either. He also did not spot Solas' plan from miles away.

Varric might have picked Rook up for their moment of bravado that the game always provides, because he was running our of time to stop Solas. Nowhere does it say he might not have ended up regretting that choice a little if you turn out to be a competent ass. Wouldn't that have been a neat thing?

If we and the characters got to experience... regret?

"I wish you could be mean to the companions" it's a story about professionals

"I wish you could have a choice to not recruit companions" it's a story about every single person being vital to success

"the companions are too nice to eachother" it's a story about professionals

"rook puts out people's squabbles too easy" it's a story about a boss who actually cares and doesn't buy pizza to get people to work unpaid overtime

"I wish you could recruit a therapist for the team" based and valid

[renatogpadilla]

The One Where She Comes Clean.

It took Lux a full 3 seconds to process what she had just heard.

She had wondered, despite her best intentions what could her friend have possibly seen in that harrowing vision that had made her break the way she had...

Losing a daughter would do it.

Isha... Not-Isha kept going.

"She wasn't mine," She sobbed out between tired tears "but... But she was mine, you know...? She came... into my life at my lowest p-point... And for seven m-months... S-seven beautiful months, she... she made it so... so b-bright! My Isha.... my.... my p-perfect, beautiful baby girl!"

She couldn't hold it in any longer. Lux hugged her friend, both of their eyes filled with tears, as she sobbed into her arms.

They didn't know how long they'd stayed like that. It didn't matter. Eventually, the tears stopped... slowly. Her eyes were burning. Everything hurt.

Jinx managed to talk. "I... Listen, Lux. You saved me too. In more ways than one... And I want to be honest with you. If anyone knows, I want it to be you... but...." How do you even start?

"If you're not there yet, I understand. I won't push. When you're ready, I'll be here." Jinx wondered if Lux was this sincere all the time or if she just put on a pretty face for her... Either way, she couldn't have asked for a better friend right now.

"I think I genuinely don't deserve a friend like you." Jinx meant that. She really didn't deserve her.

"Well, suck it up, Firework." Lux had to push that out of her throat. She just told you about her dead daughter and you're trying out nicknames?! "You're stuck with me. And I don't plan on leaving you alone."

"...Firework?" She could not let Lux know how much she actually liked that. She had an image, dammit!

"Hey, you call me 'Flashlight'!" It wasn't a chuckle so much as a sputtered breath that left her mouth, but the feeling came across.

"Okay, fine. That's fair." Something in her still feared telling Lux everything...

She didn't know where to go from here... Lux was staying the night. Should she offer tea? She didn't have cookies or anything. She should have had cookies! What kind of witch didn't have cookies to lure children into the woods with?! She had to step her game up when she stopped feeling so depressed...

"But... If not your birth name" Which was a shame, because Lux found 'Powder' really cute "and not your other name... What do I call you?"

And here she had to take a gamble... In her mind, she was praying to Janna or whatever other spirit could hear that the name of the most wanted criminal in Piltover-Zaun hadn't reached Demacia... Or at least not Lux.

She wanted to be honest. But she had to brace herself first. "I can be... completely truthful with you, right?"

"Always. I'm almost offended you even had to ask!"

"Heh... I know. Listen, Flashlight. There's a part of me that's terrified to tell you."

"...Why?" Oh, did Lux want an answer to that question?

"Because..." Just say it. She took a deep breath. "Because you've told me your story. And I'm afraid that... I'm scared that if I tell you..." You wouldn't come see me anymore? You would hate me?

"You'd have to take the first step for once?" Lux didn't mean for it to be a jab, but she wanted to get out of the depression, by whatever way she could, and this girl needed to get this out.

"I'm afraid that you'd be too... Familiar with me." She could think of no other word to describe it. She was kinda glad she couldn't. "You... Um..."

"Go on, friend." And she said it so sincerely that Jinx felt her heart grow a size... She swore those eyes got bigger the longer they stared at her. "I'm not leaving."

She dared to hope. "You promise...?"

Lux actually stood up from the couch. Jinx could tell she was sore from the fight still, but she didn't let it show. And then she took a knee and put one hand over hers and another over her heart.

"I," she said, and she put the weight of the world into her words "Luxanna Crownguard, swear on my honor as a Noble, as a servant of the Crown of Demacia, on my Knighthood and on my light as a Mage, that I will not desert you. I will not run from who you are. I will not judge or hate you for what you have been through. On our friendship and on the joy you've brought me... Lest I be struck dead by the gods themselves."

Tiny lights floated around them. Lux wanted to make sure she knew she meant business. What a dramatic little lady she'd let in her hut! Welp, she'd done it now... Fuck it.

"Whatever happens now, you asked for it."

Lux just nodded her head and smiled. One more deep breath.

"You know Piltover?" She started. Might as well match her dramatics if she was going to tell her.

"The City of Progress. I've heard of the place, but I've never been..."

"Well, you'll hear a lot of stories about it. About how they have the most beautiful skyline and how their technology is second to none... It's alright. They're good, I guess. But what they won't tell you is that their glorious city sits on top of another. One that breathes the refuse of their engines. The smog of their factories... The dust beneath their boot. This is the city of Zaun. And I used to call it home."

Lux was sitting fully cross-legged on the floor now, looking up at her like she was her favorite teacher... Or like a child, hearing a new story for the first time. Jinx realized she missed being a storyteller. She liked that the theatrics she could weave into stories didn't require several hours of explosive safety prep... Like she'd ever cared about the safety prep!

"And even in this veritable hive of scum and villainy, where the air was thick with smoke and drug lords named 'Chembarons' ran the streets, there was a still a little corner of light: A section of the city, marshalled by a man named Vander. My dad. This place was called The Lanes, and smack dab in the middle of them, there was a quaint little bar called The Last Drop... And in that bar lived Vander and a gang of kids. There were four of us: There was Mylo, Claggor... my sister Violet... 'Vi'. And me. Powder. And we spent our days gathering scrap for dad to sell and keep the bar afloat... Well, at least that's what we thought. Looking back, he probably just gave us that idea so we'd feel important. Petty heists here and there, nothing too crazy. Mylo could pick any lock, Claggor was big and smart, always a step ahead of everyone else and the one who always knew the getaway route... Vi could punch like hell and I had my little gadgets. None of them worked as intended, but I was getting somewhere." She nodded her head at Pow-Pow and Fishbones on the floor. "That's one thing I can proudly say I got much better at."

"Question!" Said Lux. She actually raised her hand, the darling! "If there were just those four of you, then... Where does Ekko come in?"

Leave it to Miss 'Repressed Fairytale Princess' to immediately ask about her crush. Good to know Lux had her priorities straight!

"He hung around on occasion. He was more Benzo's kid than Vander's. He usually tipped us off to jobs the gang and I could pull. He was small and could get in anywhere if you stopped paying attention to him... He did stay with us for some time, learning how to fight with Vi... Dancing to the jukebox with me..." She had to take a moment. "You know, I don't think I ever noticed how much Ekko made me feel like a kid until you made me bring him up." He really had been there the whole time... Looking back, that crush he'd had on her was so incredibly obvious that she should have noticed, kid or not. That boy was smitten!

"Sounds like you were getting there by yourself already."

"I might've been, Flashlight... Anyhow, it was Ekko that tipped us off to the biggest heist of all. Some big-shot academy nerd over at Piltover had gotten his hands on something incredibly valuable, and now we were going to strike it rich..."

She told her about the heist on Jayce's house in detail, and while she did so, it occurred to Jinx in this moment of retrospection, that she had never actually met Jayce Talis!

The Man of Progress himself! The Father of HexTech! She'd just... stolen his marbles (and his sandwich) and ran! He made Vi those overdesigned bitch-mittens and she'd never even seen the guy outside of a couple posters or ostentatious mugs!

She wondered where he was now and if he had made it out of the scuffle with Noxus alive. After all, if he hadn't dabbled with the Arcane, she wouldn't be who she was...

Lux was completely enamoured by the story. The little band of ruffians braving the top of society to put food on the table... It was inspiring! It made her think of the struggle Mages faced now in Demacia. And Powder (she'd call her that for now, until she got a name.) had been a fighter since the beginning! And now what a woman she'd become! She could make gadgets that could bring down demons from actual Hell and explosions that outshined the moon! As far as she was concerned, she could have been anything but chose to live as a witch of the woods for the vibes!

She admired her more with every bit of her story she learned...

Little by little, Jinx told her overenthusiastic Demacian friend how everything had been downhill from the moment they'd robbed Jayce's place. The Piltie Enforcers that had killed her and Vi's biological parents now flooded the underground, looking to make an example of the undercity for what they had finally perceived to be an excuse...

She slowed down on the details after a while... And eventually, she told her about the night the rest told her to stay behind...

"I should have stayed behind... Looking back I notice that Vi was just trying her best to keep me safe. But then, I just wanted to be useful. So I went anyway... And I took a new toy with me. Filled to the brim with those magic marbles we stole. It was my biggest bomb ever. And it was gonna get them all out."

Lux could tell by her tone that it was not gonna go that way. She got up and sat on the couch with her. She'd put some tea on after she got done with this part. If she wasn't in shambles by then.

"I got there to see my friends, my sister and my dad pinned down through a small window. They'd run rampant and clobbered everyone that got in their way... Now it was my turn to help. Well... I set the little bomb through the window and let it walk off into the fray." Jinx had to stop for a moment. Lux could see in her eyes that what happened next would be heavy... Maybe she should do it now.

"Tea, friend?" She offered.

"Yes. Please. A lot. I... I think I'm going to need it..." Fuck, she missed coffee sometimes.

Lux put the kettle on. If you could call that ramshackle mechanical contraption a 'kettle'.

"If you need to stop, I understand."

"I think if I don't get it out now, I never will." Jinx owed her the truth after tonight. "I... Be patient with me? Please?"

"Of course. You don't have to ask."

Careful, Jinx. She's about to make you believe in kindness again...

While the water boiled, Lux sat down next to her friend. She made some little light balls float around them and dance a little. Nothing too crazy... It was nice that she'd managed to control her powers to the point of making little magic lanterns, but she wanted to try something new now. Something simple, for her.

"You know." Lux started "When I blasted that monster today, I felt something I'd never felt before. Like, I connected to light in a way I'd never understood... Like I could almost talk to it."

"Now who's got voices in her head?" Oh, good. Powder was making jokes now! That was great! A bit of the gloom of the night was starting to dissipate at last...

Lux shot her a playful glare and continued. "Anyways, now that I see it in that light, heh, I was wondering what would happen if I just... Asked nicely."

As she said that, she waved her hand in front of one of the little light motes she'd made... And a few seconds later, it slowly changed. From yellow, to green, to a lighter tone. A red... A purple... Until finally, a light, magical blue floated in front of them. Slowly, all the little lights changed, one by one, lighting up the hut in a blue hue that reminded her of her friend's beautiful fireworks.

She turned to look at the not-a-witch... and she saw tear roll down her face.

"It's beautiful, Flashlight." Jinx had had pretty lights lit for her before (albeit more dangerous and rebellious ones) but this was so... soft. So caring and genuinely precious... This was a gift. "I'm proud of you, for what it's worth. And I'm glad you're here."

"It's worth the world, mon ami." She leaned in close to the little sphere of light. "Thank you!" She whispered. And the little lantern glowed a little brighter. Jinx knew it was just Lux making it 'answer', but she still let herself get lost in the magic for a moment...

She drank her tea slowly... Calm your nerves. Eventually, she put her cup down and resumed her story, the new mood lighting actually calming her down a bit more than she thought. "Well, I was right about one thing: That really was the best bomb I'd ever made. So much so that even I didn't expect it to go off so... effectively. The blast sent me flying onto the street... As well as the entire building."

She'd expected, deep down, that a blue glow would make it harder to tell Lux how the bomb she'd used had killed two of her friends and her father, made her sister hate her for a decade and taken down the entire building with gods-know-how-many people still inside, but if anything, it was comforting to see a blue glow that didn't mean somebody wouldn't see tomorrow for once...

As she continued telling Lux what she'd done, she felt a pain growing on her chest. "This is it!" she thought. "If she can still care for you after she finds out you blew up children then she's sticking around for good."

"There were five of us when that explosion went off... but when the smoke cleared, it was just Vi and me." She lamented. Some days she wondered what Mylo and Claggor would have said about the life she'd led. Would they have come with her? Would they have fought against her? Would they have joined Ekko's Firelights and stayed out of it until it was their problem? Whatever the outcome, a part of her would have still cared. She'd always care. That was her own jinx. "I killed them all, Lux. I killed Mylo and Claggor and dad... And when Violet realized what happened, she... she said something. She called me something that would shape who I'd be forever. A name I took for myself the day... the night 'Powder' died. And she did die in that blast. I just didn't know it until my sister told me to my face."

She was too afraid to look at Lux. She wasn't saying anything, so maybe she was trying to process just who she'd been friends with this whole time... Jinx continued before one of them got cold feet.

"Shortly after, she was sent to jail. Pilties needed someone to blame and I was in the wind. My other dad had found me and taken me in after Vi and I fought. A crime lord named 'Silco'. The man who kept the Chembarons in check. He nurtured my curiosity. Kept me safe from the gangs... From myself. He never blamed me for what I'd done. He'd been Vander's friend before everything. I'd killed his friend, and he didn't blame me! Eventually, I grew up to be his number one closer. His little Boogeyman that exploded his enemies. And he had enemies, Lux! After Vander was gone he practically ran The Lanes, if not all of Zaun! He was a force to be reckoned with... And I was the little monster he had to make sure people stayed in line. I spent years killing my way out of facing my trauma, hearing the voices of my dead friends in my head, building my gadgets, blowing people up without a shred of remorse... Seeing my sister's face in the people I gunned down. I hated her, Lux. For years, I thought she'd left me to rot... I didn't know she'd been taken... I didn't know she still loved me. And, to be honest... Outside of Silco trying his best to be a crime lord and a part-time dad... I..." This was something she had never admitted to anyone. People who knew her could see it, of course, but she'd never said it out loud... "I didn't think I could be loved. I didn't think I deserved to be loved." And some days, when things get really rough, I still don't.

Warmth was the first feeling. Like a loving little oven had started microwaving her from the side. And when she turned, Lux was holding her tight. Her hands were glowing. Her face too! Her whole skin, dimly lit, warming up Jinx's body... She hadn't noticed she was cold. Lux just held her. And something about it melted in her heart.

"It wasn't your fault."

Those were the first words that came out of Lux's mouth.

It was words Powder had wanted to hear her entire life.

She held her back. The warmth in her chest felt like a knot that had strangled her soul for ages had finally been undone. She allowed herself to sob as Lux kept talking, and she couldn't see her face, but she knew she was crying too. The lights turned yellow again. Warm and welcoming. Like a hug. Like a home.

"You were a child. You tried to help. You didn't know. It wasn't your fault, Powder. That night, that life, will never be your fault! Okay? And if anyone ever blames you for it, I'll light them up myself!"

And for the first time, she believed it.

Her eyes were dry at this point... She was out of tears. And that was okay. It was her that kissed Lux's cheek this time. She'd never really been known to be tender, but her Flashlight had earned it. She could be soft for one person, she thought. As a treat. For both of us.

They pulled apart.

"Thank you, Flashlight. But... Not 'Powder'." She'd made up her mind now. If anything happened to Lux, she would burn Demacia to the ground. "And... not 'Isha' either."

"Alright then." Lux wiped her eyes and stretched out a hand. She wanted to know everything about this person now. "Hello, miss. I'm Luxanna. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jinx chuckled. She took her hand in hers. "Believe me, the pleasure is absolutely all mine, Luxanna." And she meant that with her whole heart...

"My name is Jinx."

[myechoecho]

When the Phone Rings, ep 7

Nothing like getting shoved off a cliff to dramatically change your relationship with your spouse. This episode was so good.

We all knew he was going to find her and stay by her side. Hee Joo realizes just how much Sa Eon has always noticed her and listened to her. She finally speaks to him and it's to tell him not to go, which stuns and overwhelms him. All he can do is stay, when really he should probably get a doctor.

(also nothing like getting shoved off what looks to be a very high cliff and have only a few scratches to show for it)

I do find it a bit ridiculous that Hee Joo hasn't figured out that Sa Eon knows she's 406 but I suspect this is a parallel to Sa Eon taking so long to connect it. They are both blinded by emotions.

I love how Sa Eon picks her up to put her back in her bed but is hesitant to let go of her. He does tell her that he knew she could talk but not that she's 406. When she tries to talk she stops her so she can rest.

But later in the episode he gently pushes her to talk. He does not want her to go back into a world of silence. However, it's also funny to that while he wants her to talk, he also doesn't quite know what to do with her talking back in real life (her saying the grapes were not washed). He only knows how to deal with sassy Hee Joo when she is 406. I do like how her talking to him is a bit stilted and awkward, which makes sense since he's basically the only person she's talked to in 20 years who can reply back.

The hair washing scene was everything. And he dried and brushed it too! It's such an intimate thing to do and I wonder why more dramas don't do this. Also LOL at Hee Joo immediately thinking he was showering when she heard the water and then being flustered by the thought of him showering.

They go back to their weird phone flirting (they WILL have kinky phone sex everything is done) but Sa Eon doesn't let her come clean. Instead he gets her to help him bring down who is behind the phone by getting a description of the man who kidnapped her.

As much as I enjoyed Sa Eon breaking through the door to "save" Hee Joo and Hee Joo hugging him and holding on to him tightly, I never in my life have seen a hospital room door that had a lock. I did adore them cuddling in the bed together.

The scene where Sa Eon reveals he knew she was 406 was so good. "tell me how to hate you. Tell me how not to love you" had me screaming. And then the kiss was also spot on. This was not a simple peck. This kiss was 3 years worth (well probably more ) of pent up feelings and emotion all tumbling out at once from both of them. A++

Random thoughts:

Sa Eon father is trash. And also incompetent. At the bare minimum he should have learned the identity of who fell off the cliff. He really does not think he can win without Sa Eon

We see a bit of Sa Eon's past with his "family". Why even have the food her son does not eat on the table if not to be deliberately cruel and force him to eat what he does like? Same with the clothes. No wonder Sa Eon is a bit messed up

Hee Joo's mom remains awful. What type of mother does not even recognize that the women in the face mask is not her daughter?

I am still curious about In A. I suspect that In A knows Sa Eon is not the bio son and who gave that information is the person behind the kidnapper. But what other secrets about Sa Eon are there that Hee Joo's mother knows?

Secretary/Assistant, is still shady and I do not trust him

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Twenty-Two - Santa Claus

865 words

@noblehouseofgay

--------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry -” Regulus stopped, staring at his husband with concern. “You want to let someone break into our house and leave things for Harry to open?”

“No,” James shook his head. “No - no one is actually coming in, Reg. It’s a myth. Santa Claus doesn’t really exist.”

“He’s a mythical person who makes toys from his castle in the North Pole and flies around the whole world in one night, breaking into everyone’s houses through the chimney and leaving gifts?” Regulus checked, reiterating what he’d been told.

James looked like he wanted to protest. “Yes? And he’s magical.”

“He’s a wizard?” Regulus asked, skeptical.

“Um.” James winced. “Not exactly, no. He’s a muggle myth.”

“A muggle myth,” Regulus echoed. “Why do they want a strange man dropping down their chimney? Why do you?”

“I -” James closed his eyes, looking a bit more stressed than he had before Regulus had asked what on Earth Effie had meant when she had Harry write a letter to ‘Santa Claus’.

“It’s a belief, Reg. A pretend muggle story. Mum and Dad wanted me to know about muggle culture, so they told me about Santa Claus, and now they’re showing Harry,” James said patiently.

“They’re lying to him,” Regulus pointed out. “We don’t lie to Harry. You hate it when someone suggests we lie to Harry.”

“No one is lying to Harry,” James assured him. “He knows that Santa is a muggle myth. He just likes the fun of it, Reg. It’s just fun.”

Regulus didn’t understand how it was fun to pretend someone was always spying on you so that they could put you on a ‘nice’ or a ‘naughty’ list. “Uh-huh.”

James gave him a pleading look. “It’s like - he’s like a collective imaginary friend. It’s a play pretend game, Reg. Except that a lot of muggle children believe that he’s real until they get a bit older.”

“But Harry knows the truth,” Regulus said. Making sure.

James nodded. “Harry knows.”

Regulus nodded back. He still didn’t see the point of Santa Claus, but if Harry was having fun with it, then maybe it was alright. “Okay.”

“Really?” James asked, shoulders dropping in relief. “It’s okay?”

“Yes,” Regulus replied. “He’s having fun, and he won’t get hurt from us lying to him, so it’s alright.”

James dropped his head into his hands. “Oh thank Merlin.”

Regulus laughed, moving closer and pulling James up so he could hug him. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed about it.”

James curled up against his side. “I really didn’t want to tell Mum and Dad that they had to stop doing things with Santa.”

Regulus felt his heart skip a beat. “You’d have done that?”

His voice came out strange - a little high-pitched, a little strangled. But he couldn’t help it, even as James looked up at him in obvious concern. “You’d have - just because I was against it?”

It was unthinkable. Impossible. He’d never imagined that James would change any family traditions to suit Regulus’s preferences. That would be unrealistic and selfish to expect. It would be unfair.

“Of course, I would,” James said quietly. He sat up a bit to meet Regulus’s eyes, as sincere as he always was. “Regulus. You’re Harry’s parent. You have a say in how we raise him. If you don’t want to celebrate Christmas with Santa Claus, then we won’t. If you have a problem, we’ll work on it. You’re an important part of this family, and your opinion matters.”

Regulus blinked to clear his vision, lost for words.

James smiled, one hand moving to the back of Regulus’s head and pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss. Regulus melted into it, letting the warmth envelop him, letting it sink into everything he was.

They were both breathing a little faster when they pulled apart.

James was looking at him, hazel eyes blown wide but still so, so soft. “You matter.”

Regulus’s breath caught, eyes flying shut to hide how close he was to tears.

It didn’t work, but he hadn’t expected it to. Not with James, who knew him better than anyone in the world.

Their positions switched - James hugging Regulus close, dark curls against a burgundy sweater.

“You matter, Regulus. You’re important and loved and you matter so, so much to all of us.”

Light pressure rubbed up and down his arms, his back. Reassuring touches as he fell apart a little bit. He wasn’t used to this yet. He thought maybe he should be - it had been years with James, with Harry, with people who loved him and accepted him.

But sometimes he got caught off guard by how much they loved him. By the sheer amount of compassion and respect and empathy they all had to offer.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure he really deserved to be here, with James, hearing all of these wonderful things.

But slowly, he was changing that. He was learning that he deserved nice things. Like love, maybe. Because when James said the was loved, he felt it.

And with every soft repetition - you are important, you’re loved, you matter - Regulus believed it a little more.

[dontcallpanic]

I love these points SO, So much! I was sat here going yes, yes, exactly! Yes!

Poor Derek not knowing how to get a house or a safe space - that really got me actually and I was wondering if it was also linked to not wanting to have too many good things. So if he has a house or a space he likes, when he inevitably looses it (in his mind) that feels so much worse than somewhere he doesn't care about so much being destroyed. Imagine getting to the point where he restored the Hale House and then it got torn down again... Ffffddd

Also Fuji your point about him having to take out Peter to protect Scott makes so much sense! But also oh god imagine having to be in that position where you have to kill your last remaining family member (from his perspective) to protect this guy that keeps getting you arrested and blaming you for literally everything! I was also wondering about it becoming one of those goals you get fixated on. Like yeah if I can only just get through X or if I can just get more powerful, if I can get stronger, if I can get better, then I can fix it all, then the problem will go away, then I can protect everyone.

Oh also - did you know there are more F's to the trauma response list - some of which I think also fit Derek. They're Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fuck, Friend and Flop. It's to take into account how we often have to play nice, or fuck or play along with perpetrators just to survive. To account for the fact that behaviour can externally look like one thing but internally the motivations are /extremely/ different. And again we don't get a choice in what our brain will select. It's just whatever it decides is our best chance of survival. And again it's definitely not going to look well adjusted, because it's not exactly a well adjusted situation. It's already deeply fucked up.

Oh and Derek having to show that he's useful just to be allowed to exist always breaks my heart. You put this SO Well. Being useful I would guess feels safe to him. You can also see him doing the needing people/pack but being so terrified of loosing them or hurting them that he pushes them away first pattern that you would totally do if you had been through all that. And then throws his own body and life around like some kind of wrecking ball because neither things are of high value in his mind.

Also your line about pleading with Stiles and Scott to stay alive by saying how useful he is totally broke me. You're spot on with that and it's just tragic.

I'm genuinely staggered by the lack of empathy and understanding but I was also thinking about what Pdxtrent said about him being one of the best representations of trauma in media (and I totally agree) and in a really awful way it kind of makes sense that he wouldn't get a lot of empathy or sympathy because real life survivors get treated this way all the time too. His response feels so True to life, it garners a true to life response from many people. Especially because he doesn't play the victim (and I love that for him) most people/survivors dont - actually! Again, you can't always tell motivations just by watching someone's outward behaviour - although you can obviously get a good idea, but there's also a whole internal world driving that behaviour that you can't see. I feel that this is where Derek is at - and at least past of the reason why he's deeply misunderstood.

There's also something there about the extreme expectations placed on young adults but that might be for another time!

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[cryinhell]

No one asked, but here's my updated top ten hellaverse ships (both canon and not)

10) Stella x Striker

What can I say? I love an evil couple. I think these two look pretty hot together, and it's interesting how Striker seems to respect Stella despite hating blue bloods. These two aren't canon, but I wouldn't mind if they were

9) RadioRose

Despite having mixed feelings on Alastor, I think these two are just so cute. Either as a couple or just queer platonic partners, I don't care. Rosie seems to be the only person to make Alastor genuinely smile, and she's the only one who can touch him. There's a special bond there I really like

8) Verosika Mayday x Wally Wackford

So this is the biggest crack ship on this list, but I think in theory, it's so cute. I really want Verosika to be happy, and Wally, despite being a bit of a scammer, is really sweet. I'm totally cool with Verosika ending up with Barbie as well, but I slightly prefer Wally. I wonder if they will have more interactions in future episodes.

7) Fizzmodeus

Is this controversial? Probably. I know Fizzarolli and Asmodeus are so loved in this fandom, so putting them at number 7 is awful...but they aren't my favorite. I do like them, and I think they're really cute! I just have ships I like more, but that doesn't take away how sweet these two can be. Sometimes obnoxiously sweet heh. So yeah, no disrespect to these two

6) M&M

So these two were at first kinda meh for me, but over time, I've grown to love them. They have a pretty healthy relationship, and I always hate when someone bothers Millie for marrying Moxxie or saying Moxxie isn't a good enough husband. These two clearly love and respect each other and clearly grow together with every episode.

5) Staticmoth

Like I said, I love an evil couple. Valentino is a monster, and Vox is deplorable. That doesn't stop me from loving them as a couple and thinking they are cute. I think they both should die, but also would be sad cause come on, they're cute together.

4) Cherrisnake

I love Sir Pentious, I love Cherri Bomb, so obviously, them together is a fun pair. I shipped these two before the show came out and was so excited to see Pen having a crush on Cherri. They kinda remind me of the early versions of M&M, but they need a lot more time. Cherri isn't ready to accept love, and Sir Pentious is well...in a different world. I can't wait to see these two develop and become an actual couple.

3) Adamsapple

So this and Lucilith could be here. Lucifer being happy is the main objective, and its Adamsapple is so fun. They clearly have a history, and there's a lot of feelings. If Adam comes back in season 2, I'd love to see this be fleshed out. I doubt they'd be a couple, but maybe friends? Who knows. I'm fine with this one not being canon, and just something fun in the fandom

2) Stolitz

Stoltiz is pretty important to me because it really got me involved in the fandom. I've been watching Helluva Boss since the beginning, but episode one of season two had me from casual watcher to actual fan. Blitzø is one of the characters I really relate to, and Stolas is just a really well written character. I love the development of these two and they are worth waiting for. I really gotta draw some fanart of them because they are everything

1) Huskerdust

Are you surprised? You must be new. These two are my everything and all time otp in the Hellaverse. I've talked so much about why I love them, and I will continue to do so until I can't any longer. Angel and Husk are not only my favorite characters individually, but their growing friendship and eventual relationship are just so ughhhh. I love these losers, and they will always be number one.

Thanks for reading my nonsense

Have a good one 💜💜