#to be fair the best athletes have left the field because they are preparing for the Olympics

[sportsallover]

You've heard of the Norwegian nationals at every biathlon world cup...

Now get ready for the Japanese nationals at climbing world cups

[kalimagik]

Hide and Seeker

James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: This is my super late submission for @nebulablakemurphy​‘s 500 writing challenge! I hope you all enjoy it! Happy Reading <3

Prompts: “Be you because no one else can” and “Let’s run away together.”

The blood was pumping through your veins, the adrenaline flowing just as fast. You wanted this spot. You deserved this spot. Ever since Gryffindor’s seeked graduated the previous year, you knew you wanted his spot. You wanted to be the first female seeker Gryffindor ever had and you would be damn good at it too.

The leather gloves that your dad had purchased for you fit perfectly, they sculpted to your hand. Your broom handle was polished and ready to go. On the pitch, it wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. It wasn’t raining, the wind was just a slight breeze, and the sun was shining. Perfect flying conditions.

“Y/N? You play quidditch?” a cocky voice questioned, walking up beside you.

“James,” you nodded politely, “I do. I’m trying out for the open seeker position. Are you just here to watch tryouts? You’re one of the chasers, yeah?”

“I was one of the chasers actually. I’m trying out for seeker as well.” You stomach sunk at his words. James Potter had been on the quidditch team since second year as a starting chaser and now it was your 5th year. He was talented, athletic, and competitive as hell. If he wanted this seeker position, he wouldn’t give it up just because you wanted it.

“Oh.” You wanted to play it cool. “Why did you want to do that? Aren’t you one of our best chasers?”

“We have a very capable team” he shrugged, “And I was getting bored. I wanted a new challenge.”

Your thoughts were beginning to spiral now. You were going to get in your own way if you didn’t get into the air soon. Fortunately, the 7th year captain appeared before you needed to respond to James.

“Alright ladies and lads,” he held his hands on his hips, looking at the group of about 5 people who were trying out. “I am going to have you do some drills - weaving, diving, tracking the snitch, etcetera. Mount your brooms players!” You swung your leg over your broomstick as you had done so many times before and kicked off the ground.

Along with everyone else, you took a few warm-up laps around the pitch. Your mind cleared as the fresh air coursed through your lungs, bringing new life into you. You forgot about the potions exam looming in the next week. You forgot about the argument you had with a friend the day before. And you forgot about James Potter trying out beside you. There was nothing but you, the pitch, and your broom.

Diving, weaving, stopping, and even formation flying were all easy for you. You felt as if you easily surpassed nearly everyone with your skills - everyone but James. He was just so good. You shook your head, focusing on the captain as he opened his hand, a golden ball sitting in his palm.

“Everyone come in and get some water. The snitch is getting a ten minute head start. I will be releasing it 3 times. Catch your breaths.”

You chugged a bit of water, not feeling extremely tired from the tryout, but you knew you needed to be at the top of your game for this next part. “You’re flying fantastic out there,” James breathed heavily smiling in your direction.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, not wanting to lose your mind again.

“Are you ready for this next part? That bugger can be bloody difficult to catch,” he chuckled, moving a little closer for the conversation. “Just between me and you, I think we’re the only two really in this competition,” he laughed, a spark of competitiveness hinting in his eyes.

“I don’t plan on relenting if that’s what you’re saying,” you gave him a small smirk, excited about the fact that he noticed how determined you were feeling. .

“I would never expect that from you. Besides, I want to wink fair and square,” he winked, quickly mounting his broom when the captain blew his whistle. “See you up there,” James called, already zooming across the pitch. You set your face with a look of determination, flying after him and hovering over the ground, circled around the captain.

“There are three snitches on the loose. Three snitches and 7 of you. Come back with a snitch and you’re one step closer to being Gryffindor’s seeker. Get seeking.” Another blow of the whistle and 7 potential seekers are off. Only you and James flew higher into the sky. He obviously also knew that a seeker needed to get a better vantage point in view of the entire field.

You whipped around, flying in slow circles. That’s when you saw it. A shiny, speck of gold - the snitch. You dived immediately, focus set on the golden ball. The wind whipped around you as you picked up speed. And then you felt the presence of another person - James.

“Gotta be faster than that, Y/N!” he laughed pulling ahead of you. Damn him. You looked forward again, the snitch was gone. Merlin! You almost had it!

You huffed, rising back above the pitch to begin your search again. James rose beside you.

“Let’s run away together,” James smiled dreamily, obviously off his rocker. “We could just take these brooms and go now.”

“Shove off, James,” you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t, Y/N. If I knew how good of a quidditch player you were, I would have gotten you to join the team years ago and then we could have just fallen in love,” he shrugged on his broom.

“Bugger off James. We’re in the middle of a tryout!” There was that flash again, but James seemed to see it first. He was taking off at a pace that doubled yours. You struggled to stay even just a few broom lengths behind him.

The snitch was so close to you, but James was closer. The snitch was in his reach and he got it. “Better luck next time, Y/N,” he winked, returning to the ground as you soared back up one more time. You could see James triumphantly returning to the ground.

“Get out of your head. Common, Y/N. There are two snitches left. Just get the next one.” You shook your head, forgetting about James before searching again. You hadn’t even seen another player trying out dive for a snitch, so you still had time. Of course, you weren’t worried about them. This was your time to shine.

You turned your head quickly, a soft beating hummed next to your ear. You looked just as the snitch took off towards the pitch. You followed it closely, extending your arm. You could feel the tiny breeze coming from its wings. Just a few more centimeters and...IT WAS YOURS! You caught the second snitch!

Your feet touched the ground as you proudly handed the snitch to the captain. “Good job, Y/L/N. You have a second tryout. Hit the changing room. I’ll send you a note about the date and time for the next tryout. Good job.”

Nodding, a small smile on your lips, you grasped your broom and went to get out of your quidditch robes. You did it. Now only two others would stand between you and the position.

-

You received your note the next day. Only three more days until your second tryout, that gave you plenty of time to prepare. You were on your way back to your dorm after getting some time out on the pitch when you heard the voices in the hallway.

“Can you believe Y/N Y/L/N is still trying out for seeker even though James Potter is?”

“What is she even thinking? He is obviously the best choice for the team.” You could hear the venom in their voices. “Plus, he is so fit!” she squealed.

“Isn’t he?! I heard that she came in second to him in nearly every event. She is probably just trying to get attention or something, honestly!���

Your lip began to quiver. People tried out for the team all the time, why was it any different for you to do it? One of the girls began starting to talk about it again, but you were running in the opposite direction, tears beginning to flow down your face.

Other footsteps were falling in step behind you, but you didn’t want to stop for whoever it was. You didn’t stop until you hit an empty, abandoned corridor. Sliding down the wall and onto the ground, you just let the sobs out into your hands.

Another person slid down next to you, their shoulder resting against yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up. It was embarrassing enough that you were crying in a hallway, but even more embarrassing that someone had caught you.

“You alright?” James’ voice spoke softly and not in his usual cocky tone.

“Do I look okay?” you spat at him, not meaning to come off so rude.

“What happened? You don’t have to talk about it, but I’ve always found that it's easier to move on if I do.” The boy pulled his legs closer to him, holding onto his knees as he sat beside you, not being loud and obnoxious.

You wiped your tears, hoping that snot wasn’t running down your nose. “Just these girls. They didn’t even know I was listening, but- but,” you didn’t feel like you could go on. “Why do I even try?” you asked instead. “I may be determined and competitive, but they’re right. You’re going to get the position. You’re a shoe in for it.” You sighed, getting ready to stand up, embarrassed enough about your outburst.

“Y/N, wait,” James spoke, still with a tone more calm than your own. “You shouldn’t listen to them. I’ve never felt the need to try so hard for something I want. You are good - bloody good.”

You could only stare at James as he spoke. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re messing with me,” you finally shook your head.

“No, I’m being serious Y/N. You keep doing what you are doing. Be you because no one else can do it.” James stood up before you could. He extended his hand down to you. “Let’s go back to the Common Room,” he suggested, “I need someone to put my ego in check,” he smirked, obviously trying to make you feel better. After contemplating for a moment, you took his hand, accepting his attempts to try and make you feel better.

-

You pushed the thought of those girls out of your head after that. James insisted on practicing with you before the try out. He claimed he ‘wanted to make sure his competition didn’t have any tricks up her sleeve.’ You never stopped laughing while you were with him. James seemed to know each little thing that would make you laugh.

Then, the day came. You were finishing your tryout. You listened to the captain as he spoke, looking at the other boy who was trying out. He was obviously nervous, glancing often at you or James. His feet couldn’t keep still, resulting in him bouncing up and down slightly on his toes.

James was on the other side of you and you allowed yourself to glance at him once. “You better not go easy on me because you saw me cry, Potter,” you warned, mounting your broom after the captain’s instructions. One snitch, that was the only shot you had.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it, Y/L/N,” James winked, unable to take his eyes off you. He was still staring when the whistle blew, causing him to have a delayed takeoff.

You zoomed around the field, even going outside of the stadium to see if the snitch had escaped. Unlike the first tryout, James wasn’t right beside you the entire time. It seemed that he had his own strategy this time.

Inhaling deeply, you cleared your head. Nothing else mattered except for you, your broom, and that snitch. It was just you and it now. Nearly 15 minutes passed and no one had caught a glimpse of the other snitch. You were beginning to get frustrated, you thought someone would have caught it by that point.

Another lap around the pitch seemed in order. You knew this would be tougher than the last tryout, but you’d hope to show your skills off a bit more. Maybe dodge a bludger here and there. A few people sat in the stands and the rest of the Gryffindor team was below, running drills, still a chaser short despite James’ decision to switch positions.

You observed the team, moving as one unit. The beaters were accurate with their bats. The keeper’s eyes took in the entirety of the field. And the one chaser - who wasn’t the captain - ran an agility course with the beaters. You wanted to be on this team so badly.

Only by watching the team, did you catch the snitch flying alongside the bludger. That tricky little thing. You immediately pointed your broom towards the ground, driving for the snitch. You didn’t care about the bludger that threatened your figure as you soared closer to the golden ball.

Looking around for a mere second, you saw James also diving for the snitch. He was not going to beat you this time, you were certain of that. You leaned further even more, dangerously close to the top of your broom. One sudden move and you would slip off the front.

You looked over again. From what you could tell, James was a few seconds behind you. He must’ve seen the snitch just moments after you. He was not your concern right now though. The snitch suddenly rose towards the sky, forcing you to pull up quickly and change course. The little ball was quick, but it was slowing down as it gained altitude, it was in your grasp.

The breath you had been holding in finally released when the snitch was wrapped in your fingers. You had it. You won!

Your smile was unmatchable as you returned to the ground. You held your hand out flat, the golden snitch resting in your palm as you presented it to the captain.

“Congratulations, Y/L/N, it looks like you are Gryffindor’s new seeker,” the captain congratulated you before jumping on his own broom and joining the rest of the team. “You start at our next practice.”

You were still catching your breath as you watched him fly away, a large grin set on your face. “Looks like I’ll be getting to play with you this season,” James smiled, landing next to you. “Great job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled, still breathless. “Not mad are ya?” you teased further.

“I don’t think I could be. That was a brilliant catch!”

“Thank you, James.”

“No, Y/N, thank you. I reckon we’ll have the best seeker Gryffindor has ever seen,” James winked, taking off his gloves.

“You think?” his words really touched you, until he started laughing.

“Of course! Under my direction, you’ll be the best!” he released a guttural laugh.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Of course, thank you, James.”

“Hey, I’m serious. With my quidditch brains and your skills, you’ll just wow them!”

You laughed, walking towards the changing tents, thinking you were leaving James behind for practice. “Wait up, Y/N,” he called again, running a bit to catch you. “Why don’t we go grab a butterbeer to celebrate?”

You stopped, the grass still under your feet. “A butterbeer? But it's the middle of the week,” you furrowed your brows.

“I have my ways. What do you say? It's always important to bond with your teammates,” James pointed out.

You rolled your eyes again, thinking it over. “Fine, James. I’ll go get a butterbeer with you,” you gave in.

“Perfect. It’s a date. Let me get all pretty for you and then I’ll meet you in the corridor with the one eyed witch,” James winked before walking away.

You stood stunned, a date? “WAIT! James!” you called after him this time, “A date?”

“Oh yeah love, a date. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to be more than a teammate then.” A cheeky smile was plastered across his face as he turned around and walked towards the castle. Looks like you were going on a date with James Potter.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (1/17)

Summary:  "Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn't exist. Everything is a choice." At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him."

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn't.

Note: This has been sitting on my computer untouched for a while, along with the timeline I prepared for a multichapter fic. Will probs go back to it soon. Feedback is very much appreciated.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

In dreams people only see faces they already know.

It was an interesting fact Levi had probably come across, lazily scrolling through his social media timelines or opening countless tabs after getting into some Wikipedia blackhole in between the long days of schools and the short nights asleep.

He spent a fair amount of time on the internet, reading up about whatever bullshit politics came up with, controversies and bathroom reader fun facts. During his first year of college, it had stuck to him for a time. Maybe because it just seemed too unrealistic, too unbelievable.

After all, ever since he had started college, he felt like he had been dreaming of more and more unfamiliar faces. It could have been attributed at least to the fact that he was exposed to more people in a crowded city than he had been in the small town he grew up in. As time went by, these faces he barely recognized though, had become the main actors in his dream.

The long haired boy with the elvish features. The man with the clean cut appearance and a glint of mischief in his eyes. The oriental girl with subtle European features. The cheeky girl with a beat up pair of glasses and unkempt hair.

They and many others had been regulars in his dreams and Levi had come up with names for them already, names he remembered muttering, names he screamed multiple times in his head. By the time he woke up to the four walls of his bedroom a few hours before his first class, they were vague memories, only as intelligible as his view of the world right after waking up.

Some mornings, he had found himself more exhausted than when he had slept. Some mornings, he found his throat sore from screaming. Some days, his eyes were swollen from crying.

He lived alone in a dormitory and he had wanted to infer that it had been homesickness that had made those nightmares possible. He had never really abhorred being alone though, in fact he liked the privacy that came with having his own room.

He quickly shot down that theory and did not think too much about it soon after. His daily life did not give him too much time to ponder such fleeting and abstract of a concept as dreams in between lessons and training.  

The dreams never left him, some days they were more vivid than others. After a few years of navigating academics, trainings, and obligations, Levi had gotten used to brushing off that one tear he’d get as he woke up, taking a lozenge to soothe the sore throat or just leaving the lights off in his room to alleviate the pounding headache he would get some mornings.

Daily life and obligations never did allow him the time and space to ponder too much on those dreams. Levi chalked it up to stress and unexplained trauma, easily soothed by ten minutes scrolling through social media or hours reorganizing his room for the third time that week.

Financial and time constraints made it impossible as well to even consider consulting about it and Levi found himself compartmentalizing those dreams into those few hours of sleep he got at night and the one hour he allowed himself each day to adjust to the waking world.

The line blurred one night though when one of those names was nonchalantly mentioned among others.

"Hange Zoe..."

It was just one name in a list recited by their coach before they were all dismissed for the evening. Sandwiched between a few other names before and after it, it wasn't supposed to stand out like that. Oddly, it did.

As Levi rode his bike to his dormitory room after a tiring day of training, he found himself repeating that name again and again. He tried to make sense of the odd familiarity which came with a name he could have sworn he had never heard before.

A family friend? A childhood friend?

Levi entertained those possibilities. Having grown up in a small town, his family friends and childhood friends consisted of everyone in that tight knit community and he could have listed out all their names then and there. She wasn’t part of it.

To at least, satisfy his own curiosity, Levi had sent a message to his parents before going to sleep. Just in case he had met her before.

Levi woke up the next morning, his throat a little scratchier, his body a little more tired. The first thing he did was check his phone.

Hange Zoe wasn’t a family friend.

Levi put the covers over himself and closed his eyes. His head was pounding and his chest was heavy. He had only noticed a moment later that his eyes were wet, his breaths were coming out in heaves.

What did I dream about this time?

Levi needed the whole morning to recover.

                                  A Tale of Two Slaves

Levi managed at least to drag himself out of bed for afternoon training. By then, others have already started warming up. Levi wondered if he would be able to carry his body through a warm up jog, given his state only a few hours ago.

In the end, getting the jog done became a matter of discipline more than anything else and he had finished well above everyone else.

He had always been faster, given his smaller build and he had the natural muscle and athletic skill to be versatile as well. That was what made him stand out as the best athlete in the track and field team. He never cared too much either way about the admiration many of his teammates held towards him.

The recurring nightmares and the aftermaths of these though had left Levi averse to human interaction. Ironically, as he moved away from his small town and into the bigger city, his world had gotten smaller. Levi found himself keeping his world only wide enough to win track and field events and pass classes.

No man could really ever be an island though, no matter how much they try. Levi soon found that out when he saw that aforementioned Hange Zoe on the side of the track, talking to one of their coaches.

“This is Hange Zoe.”

“You can call me Hange.”

Levi did not need that quick introduction his coach had just given him. Somehow, the name and the face just clicked inside him. He looked expectantly at his coach and back at Hange.

Hange held out her hand to him and smiled. “I heard you’re the best one in the team. Coach Greg spoke highly of you.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at her. “What's she doing here?”

“Didn’t I tell you last time? Some of the premed students wanted to do case studies on athletes here for their final thesis. If you could help them out?” The coach turned to Hange. “Levi here is one of our best jumpers. He holds a pretty good record for sprinting, hurdles and throwing events as well.”

“Your jogging form looks amazing! I’d love to see you in action.”

Levi was not prepared for the invasion of privacy that came a second after. Hange held both of his hands towards her and leaned closer towards him. Before Levi could even stop himself, he had pushed her away and ran, the screaming of his coach to come back had become mere muffled screams in the background.

The only reason Levi did drag himself to training was for the fact that it was still one of the few hobbies he found complete calm yet complete liberation in. Those few moments after launching himself up in the air, those magical few moments high up in the air with only the empty sky above him, Levi felt free.

As Levi powered through, he found within him a burst of energy, built up from an idle morning cooped up in his room.

He had done those same drills so many times before. The excitement he got from flying through the air and running easily took over whatever exhaustion and rattledness plagued him only a second ago. He let his body memory guide him through each drill, concentrating his consciousness on other things like the cool wind on his skin as he shot through the track and the purple sky that stretched above as he performed horizontal jumps.

If Levi had been any more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed his teammates leaving the track one by one. Maybe, he would have noticed as he started moving to the hurdles that the purple sky was slowly turning into a dark blue and the scenery around him was becoming just a little more than shadows.

It was nothing new. Levi had stayed behind to work on other skills multiple times and his coach and teammates had just learned to leave the club room open. Levi would leave an extra thirty minutes to an hour later than his companions,

At that training though, with little incentive to break away from that small bubble he had built for himself, not  a lot of things could have broken his concentration. Fifteen minutes into his hurdles exercises, the distraction came. Levi was raising one leg, positioning himself to jump a hurdle when he caught a shadow from his peripherals.

Someone had been watching him in the dark.

He was alone. Or he was supposed to be alone at least.

The combination of those realizations and the exhaustion that threatened to take over Levi only caused Levi to stumble on the hurdle in front of him and fall forward onto cold ground.

“Hey! You okay?”

It was that same voice from that same conversation Levi had walked away from just an hour ago. The voice was as loud and as annoying as it was an hour ago that even when his shadow was still a good few meters away, Levi remembered how it felt with her forehead once again pressed on his and her grip on his two hands.

Levi was frozen on the ground, his body still in shock at the sudden loss of control and the whiplash of what he had just imagined.  

“That looked painful.” Her voice was softer than it was a second ago. Hange put her hand on his.

Levi pulled away instinctively, and winced as his palms protested the quick action. Levi looked at his palms. In the dim light, he could see three long gashes lined up in the middle. Blood was starting to come out as well.

Levi was exhausted. The impact and the aftermath of falling on the ground, front first and the friction burns that followed, only further drained what was left of his energy.

By the time Hange helped him up by the shoulders  Levi was almost motionless, the small movements he made were carefully calculated for fear of aggravating the dull pain.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

                              A Tale of Two Slaves

“Sorry about a while ago… People say I’m just a little too intimidating  but I just get really excited about these types of things. You had such a good running form. You jump so high. You get a really good height above the hurdles… “ Hange gave him a consoling look. “Except that last one.”

Hange was closer to him than what Levi would have preferred at first. Oddly, he had gotten used to it quickly enough, particularly because he had no other choice.

The gashes on his palms were bloody and painful. With little to no means to bandage them himself, he was left to rely on the only person there and as Levi soon found out, she had problems with maintaining a comfortable social distance from people.

And she never stopped talking.

“Are the bandages too tight?” Hange asked, in between other ramblings Levi had tuned out.

“‘No.” The only words Levi had said since they had arrived in the club room fifteen minutes ago.

“Okay, let’s move on to your knees.”

Levi had not surveyed the damage himself but he guessed it was probably worse than his palms from Hange’s concerned frown.

“You’re gonna need stitches for this. The clinic probably isn’t open so you might have to go to the hospital… We could call a taxi and---”

“You’re a pre-med student, can’t you do it yourself?”

Hange blushed. “You trust me to do it?”

"A trip to the hospital will just be a waste of time." Levi admitted.

Hange rummaged deeper into the first aid kit. "This is gonna be painful though."

Better than taking a trip to the hospital now. Levi braced himself for it and decided to distract himself from the discomfort of the whole ordeal.  

“How does it feel? Flying in the sky like that?” Hange asked. At that point, Hange had started to talk more purposefully, as if she wanted to get a point across to him.

Levi guessed that it was all an attempt to distract him from the mini operation she was giving him. From his angle, Levi could not see the extent of the injuries, nor did he want to. The pain was bearable, although it was still much worse than what he would have considered a discomfort.

“I’ve always wanted to take a sport like that, maybe gymnastics, maybe figure skating or track and field? That’s the closest people can get to flying right?” Hange was asking too many questions but it was obvious she was not expecting answers.

Her words flowed as smoothly as the movement of the needle and thread he could see from his angle.

Something about the way she talked to him was comforting and eventually Levi had almost completely relaxed, the pain of needle to torn skin a distant memory. He lay back on the bench and closed his eyes, focusing not on her words but instead on the familiar warm tone as she spoke.

The sensation of needle to skin, the burning pain, the dizziness that followed. They were all too familiar. All accompanied by that familiar warm voice.

Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us.

Hange's voice tore into his daydream. “What do you mean? Are you running from something?"

[ehud1564]

The Dragon's early awakening

Introduction, part 1

Summary: Kagami joins Fransua Dupont Highschool. Meaning for Marinette that a new girl is in Adrien’s general field of view, and in front of Marinette. How will she react to it? Will she and Kagami be friends? Will she learn a lesson?

Also posted on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13926798/1/The-Dragon-s-early-awakening

And here's the google doc I'm working on so you can see how I'm progressing: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18T5_-_GYRtF940AJAzyJpT-t6uVQUQyCyyu3EcFeExc/edit?usp=sharing

Kagami woke up at 6:30 AM. She immediately got up from her bed, heading to the shower. Her mind was racing with meaningless thoughts, as it always was in the morning. She was awake enough to shower but not much else. She had a quick shower and quickly got dressed. After this preparation Kagami sat down on her bed and started mentally preparing for the day ahead of her.

Today is her first day in a new school. After she managed to join Mr. Darjencourt’s fencing group, her mother signed her up to a school and bought them a house. It seems they will be moving to Paris permanently.

Her mother was rich enough that they could spontaneously move to Paris, and still keep their house in Japan. Kagami didn’t know how her mother was so rich. She knew her family was always known as rich and famous. But she wasn’t sure how they got there or what they did except fencing.

She knew that while her mother could own multiple houses, most people could not. Some people couldn’t even have one house. She made sure to donate all the money she can get hold off. But it wasn’t much. She was very limited in what she could get. She tried to sell one of the house decorations once, thinking her mother wouldn’t notice because of her blindness. She got beaten and heavily scolded. Since then she never tried selling anything her mother owned. She tried selling her fencing equipment and got a similar result.

Her alarm clock signaled it’s time for breakfast. The personal chef made her a simple meal of Eggs on whole wheat toast, and gave her some yogurt and a few fruits. Kagami made sure to thank him, but mostly focused on her thoughts.

There is one person she knows in Fransua Dupont. And that is Adrien Agreste. The fencer she had to defeat in order to join the group. She hopes she’ll be able to make more friends. But she could only hope.

After eating her breakfast, She put on a coat and took out her bag to go for a morning jog, packing extra clothes in her bag to change. She went through the jog and kept trying to mentally prepare herself.

She ran through different scenarios through what could be when she gets to school. She knew the classes in Fransua Dupont were small. Small enough for her to be very noticeable, but big enough to be very draining to Kagami.

Kagami was never good at interacting with other people. She found interacting with a few people at once hard and draining.

After 15 minutes of running, she reached the school and went to her class. She sat down at a table, and started reviewing her schedule. She was completely alone in the class, having reached the school so early, 45 minutes before the first period started.

She checked her schedule again and reviewed the lesson she had for today. Even though her mother is pretty strict, she doesn't care about Kagami’s grades much. She only sees school as a waste of time for Kagami. Because of that Kagami doesn't work too hard in school, and it doesn't cause her stress.

Kagami is mostly a source of rest and fun for Kagami. Even if she isn’t good at the subject, she can take her time. And it gives her time without her mother. She likes being without her mother. No expectation, she doesn't have to be perfect.

It’s not that she didn’t like her mother. But being next to her makes her miserable. It was why she woke up at 6:30, to get out of the house before her mother woke up.

A student has arrived to the class. He wore a green shirt and glasses. “Oh, hello.”. Kagami replied “Hi” with an awkward smile.”Are you searching for a place to be alone? If so, I’ll recommend you use the library. I have a lesson here soon.” The student asked. “No, this is my homeroom class. Though I appreciate the suggestion. I’m new here so...”

“A new student! Nice to meet you! My name is Max Kante!” He put his hand forward. “Kagami Tsurugi. I apologize but I do not shake hands.” She said. “That’s OK. So what school are you from?”

“I’ve been homeschooled for a while, and I’ve been through plenty of schools.” Kagami replied, fishing in her mind to see if she remembers the last school she was in. “Well that’s interesting! Why were you moving?” Max tried to pull a conversation. “Me and my mother are looking for a fencing school for me. We’ve been through plenty of schools, but we haven’t found one that proved a challenge. That’s why we came here. I now learn Fencing in Mr. Darjencourt’s group, which runs in the Gym of this school, led by Mr. D'argencourt.”

“Ooh nice! Why here specifically?” Max questioned, proud for developing a conversation. “Well we were told this place was the best. And it held out better than the others.” Kagami responded. “Not by much though”.

A new student entered the class room, he wore a red Jacket and a few Sweatbands. “Hi Max! Hi… I don’t think we’ve met!” Kim called excitedly.

“This is Kagami Tsurugi! She’s a new student in our classroom!” Max filled him in.

“Hi.” she called.

“I’m Kim!, very nice to meet you!!” He gives her his hand, which she refuses. “You too Kim”.

“So you fence! That’s a sport right?” Kim asked excitedly. “Yes.” Kagami replied. “Awesome! Another Athlete!! Woo!!! That’s so cool!!” Kim cheered.

“Yeah,” She said awkwardly. She doesn't know how to handle someone as excited and friendly as Kim. No mental preparation prepared her for that. She should have got there later. Maybe she would have been more prepared if she didn’t get before everyone.

Max and Kim started conversing between themselves thankfully. Max was talking about a video game with Kim. Kagami opened her phone to the Making friend apps, trying to figure out what she is going to do.

A new student entered the class, a red head who wore an orange shirt, holding a sketchbook. She prayed he would leave her alone and he did. Instead he began sketching. How much time was left before class? She checked her phone and it was much more than she expected. She didn’t properly appreciate how bad it will be to get to class so early.

If only she could distract herself. But she can’t and she feels very awkward. She wonders what the boy is drawing. She loves to draw, but asking him seems very risky. She thought she might draw, but the room dosen’t feel private enough for that.

Another student entered the room. A girl with purple highlights in her hair. She sat down behind Max, making no comments of her.

Soon later a group of 4 people entered the room. A boy who wore a black shirt with a skull on it, a girl with a green sweater with pins on it,A girl with pink hair and a green pattern throughout her sleeves, and a blonde girl wearing a pink dress. “Oh hello! Nice to meet you!! I’m rose!!” The blonde girl cheered enthusiastically.

“You’re kind of in my seat” Said the boy wearing a skull sign.

“Yeah sure sorry I’ll go.” Kagami got up and sat one chair ahead of the chair she was in.

“So what’s your name?” Asked the girl with the pins. “I am Mylene”

“Ivan” the boy added.

“I’m Alix” Said the girl with pink hair.

“Hello. My name is Kagami.”

“Nice to meet you Kagami!” Rose cheered before going to sit next to the girl with highlights in her hair.

“A little warning, this seat also belongs to someone. The only available places are next to Nathaniel, and next to me.” Said Ivan, pointing to the sketching boy.

“Hmm?” Nathaniel hums as the sound of his name.

“Do not sit next to nathaniel. Nathaniel is terrible!” Alix said loudly.

“I’m right here. I can hear you.” Nathaniel said despretly.

“Yeah that’s part of the point!” Alix shouted at him.

“What did he do?” Kagami asked, somewhat curious. What could have caused such a reaction.

“He made a comic of him saving one of our classmates from Akumas, and then of that classmate falling in love with him in that comic. The classmate knew none of it and didn’t give him any permission.” Ivan explained.

"Then he made a comic of Ladybug falling in love with an Akumatized version of him!" Kim added.

“That’s bad.” Kagami replied. “What’s an Akuma? And who's Ladybug?” She asked.

“You’re new in town?” questioned Millene.

“Somewhat, yes.” Kagami Answered.

“Wait just one minute!” Max said and opened his phone. After a few seconds of messing with it, he said "Come here!”. Kagami went to stand next to him and he gave him her phone.

“She explains it better than any of us can! I’d say she’s somewhat the expert." Alix added seeing the video. Mylene and Alix went to talk in their seet, and Ivan opened his own phone in his seat.

Kagami pressed play, and the video started. There was a short musical intro, and then a girl appeared on screen. She wore glasses and had red hair. “What’s up, Peeps! It’s Alya Cesire, bringing you the one and only Ladyblog! If you're planning to move to Paris, this video is a must watch!” The girl in the Video, Alya, said with excitement.

I already moved. Maybe I should have done my homework. Kagami thought to herself. to be fair, I didn't think we'd actually move here.

“If you ever visit Paris, most likely you’ll come across an Akumatized supervillain.” Alya said as she lost her enthusiasm.3 pictures of people appeared on screen. One girl with dark Red hair and the Wireless symbol on a black shirt labeled “Lady Wifi”. Another, a muscled man wearing a black shirt and golden jewelry Labeled “The Pharaoh”. The last one, A woman with green skin and red hair Labeled “Befana”.

“Akumatized villains, often shortened to just Akumas, are created when someone feels an extreme negative emotion. When you experience an extreme negative emotion in Paris, A supervillain named Hawk Moth can send an Akuma-” A picture of a black butterfly appeared on screen ”'-a corrupted butterfly, to you. The butterfly can enter an Object of yours, and will allow Hawkmoth to speak to you and corrupt you. He will give you superpowers, and his corruption will make you want to hurt others.”

“But, when Hawkmoth first Attacked, two heroes came to save us!” Alya said, regaining her excitement. And a picture of two people appeared on screen. One was wearing A red bodysuit with Polka dots, and was Labeled “Ladybug”. The other wore a black suit and had a bell on his neck, and was labeled “Chat Noir”.

Kagami remembers Ladybug. She met her in the Louvre after… Something... happened. Probably something that has something to do with an Akumatized Villain then. That explains it somewhat.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir rose to fight Hawkmoth, they can save the Akumatized people, release the butterflies from Hawkmoth’s control, and undo the Damage the Akuma did to Paris.” A clip of Ladybug throwing a parachute with the same pattern as her suit plays. It turns into a swirl of Ladybugs all over the place, who started fixing things.

Neet

“Since then, Hawkmoth is trying to get the Heroes’ Jewelry. That became the main target of most of his Akumatized villains. We’re not sure what he can do with them, though I have several theories on my Ladyblog!” Alya explained.

"If you decide to move to Paris anyway, or if you’re interested in Any more detailed explanation, consider giving my Ladyblog a visit! It has everything you need to know, and so much more! For example, the ladyblog has: Akuma Alerts, a Chat to talk to people close to the fight, clips from past fights, clips from current fights if I happen to be there, Personal theories and so much more! Support me on Patreon! Hope I’ll see you on the Ladyblog! Ladyblogger out!” Three links appeared on the videos, one to her Patreon, one to the Ladyblog, and another to the introduction page.

“So, any Questions?” Max asked Kagami.

“I’m not sure yet.” Kagami answered hesitantly, and gave him his phone back..

‘Well I’ll send a link to the Ladyblog, so you can learn more on your own. I’m sure you can also Ask Alya yourself, if you have any questions!” Max said.

ha? she thought.

“Ask me what?” The girl from the Video, Alya, was standing in the door, with a boy wearing a blue shirt with an eye on it, and had earphones hanging on his neck.

oh. She also goes here.

“Hi Alya! We have a new student coming from out of town! So we showed her your video to show her what are Akumas!!” Kim said, as Alya walked towards her.

“Neet!” Alya said, and turned to Kagami. “Hi. I’m Alya. So where are you from?”

“I'm from Japan."

"Oh nice!! Why did you move?"

"For Darjencourt's fencing team."

"Ooh you're a fencer?! That's so cool!! You're probably very serious if you moved just for a fencing group. So are you happy with the group?" Alya asked with excitement.

As Alya and Kagami started their conversation, Max called to The boy “Hey Nino! I'm working on something new, do you wanna check it out?”.

“Hell yeah dude!! Coming right up!” Nino replied enthusiastically, and made his way to stand next to Max.

"It's OK. Better than most groups I've been too, but not great. I might have found someone that is equal to me." Kagami replied to Alya.

“What dose that mean? And who is that?” Alya asked.

Kagami started elaboratinh “This boy was the only one who had ever came close to defeating me. I have been through countless fencing schools, and no one has ever came as close as him. His name is Adrien Agreste, He told-"

“Why are you talking about my Adrikins?” A blonde girl wearing a yellow Jacket yelled at Kagami. Next to her stood a redhead girl wearing glasses and a sweater with purple green and black.

"Fuck off Chloe!!" Alya yelled at the blonde girl. The sudden swear took Kagami by complete surprise.

Her name is Chloe. It's starting to become harder to remember all of their names.

"The audacity! How dare you speak to me in such foul language!! Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!!" Chloe yelled at Alya.

"Anyway, you loser need to stay away from MY Adrikins" Chloe shouted at Kagami and placed her finger on Kagami's chest.

That girl knows Adrien

Kagami wanted to knock Chloe at a table. She doesn't handle being touched well. But she doesn't want to get in trouble. The last time a similar event happened, Kagami couldn't be at school for two full weeks. She had to spend them all with her mother, who put her under very intense training. She tried her best to ignore her.

"Oh shut up. You're the only loser here Adrien isn't yours and you're harassing the new student. Go away or I'll make you!" Alya stepped in.

The door opened and in came Adrien? So they are in the same class. Now she knows that everyone are friendly enough and she won't need him. But they're too friendly, and Kagami has somewhat of a problem dealing with their energy. She supposed she'll adjust eventually. If she can stay here long enough.

"Adrikins! This new loser was talking about you!! Put her in her place." Chloe told Adrien in her sweet voice.

"Oh, Hi Kagami. Didn't know you were moving to the same class as I am."

"Hi." She said unenthusiastically.

"Oh, your name is Kagami! I admit I forgot to ask! Sorry!" Alya apologized to Kagami. "That's a really nice name! What are you named after?"

"Hello everyone! How are you this day?" A red haired lady with a cyan coloured jacket. Said standing next to the teacher's table.

"Talk to you later Kagami!" Alya said sitting in the seat ahead of Ivand.

"I'm here! I'm here!" A girl with blue hair and a gray jacket ran through the door. Kagami recognised that girl as Adrien's friend, who also tried out to the fencing group, and greatly misjudged her.

She shouldn't have been given responsibility as a referee. She did what she could with what she knew. In retrospect, it wasn’t her fault.

"Hello Marinette you're right on time! I was just about to introduce the new student!" Mrs Bustier said to the girl as she went to sit. Alya went to sit next to her, and Nino went to the seat ahead of Alya. Adrien sat next to him.

"Please be a dear and come here Kagami" Kagami obliged to The teacher's request. “This is our new student, Kagami Tsurugi! She came to us from Japan, for a fencing group! I hope we all give her a nice welcome! I am Caline Bustier, and you can call me Mrs. Bustier.”

Mrs. Bustier. That’s her name.

“Sit next to Ivan please! Ivan, please raise your hand so Kagami will know who you are.” Ivan raised his hand. Kagami already knew who he was. She went to the seet to his right. She would have much preferred to sit closer to the forng. She sat down next to him and took out her glasses.

A literature lesson has started. They started studying a new piece, so Kagami could follow the less. Kagami was not good at reading between the lines, and understanding Metaphors. She wrote everything down on her tablet.

The lesson felt longer than she expected it to feel. But eventually it ended. They had a short breakfast break. "Catch you later Marinette!" Alya told and got up from her seat. Kagami took out an apple from her bag and ate it slowly.

"Hey Kagami, want to go with me to the Cafeteria?" Alya asked. "I still have a lot to talk to you about! And alot to ask you!"

Kagami stood up and said "Lead the way please Alya." Knowing where the Cafeteria is might come handy. Kagami isn't planning to buy food from the Cafeteria,she preferred to bring food from home. That way, she'll be able to donate more of her allowance. She started following Alya, as she led her to the Cafeteria.

"Give me your phone number so I can add you to the class group chat." Kagami gave Alya her number, and she saved her number. She fiddled with her phone a little, and Kagami got a notification.

"Well, where were we before the lesson? Oh yes! You said you tried a lot of fencing terms, but they disappointed you? Which ones did you try into?” Alya initiated a conversation.

“A few. We’ve tried pretty much every famously good fencing school there was. It's wierd that the one we settled on was running on a school's gym." Kagami responded and took another bite off her apple.

"Here we are, the Cafeteria! Do you want to buy something?" Alys asked Kagami as she stood in line.

"No thank you. I ate breakfast and I brought food from home." She responded. She took another bite and she was getting close to finish the apple. She stood next to Alya in line.

"You can go sit at a table if you want! You don't have to stay waiting with me!" She didn't know where or why to sit.

"Kagami! Hi!" Adrien called out to her. "I have something to talk to you about. Can we go to the library for a few minutes?"

The library. Max said it's a good place to be alone, and seeing places of the school is good.

But what did Adrien want to talk to her about? That sounds weird.

"OK. Lead the way." Adrien grabbed her hand, and started leading her. She didn't feel great with that. But she didn't know how to politely ask him to let go.

Marinette watched the scene taking place in front of her from her table. Adrien came up to Kagami and started dragging her somewhere. She slowly stood out and followed them, doing her best to stay hidden. She had to hear what they were talking about. She couldn’t let Adrien be alone with Kagami. She followed them to the library, and hid behind a bookshelf.

"Since your new here at school, I thought we'd review the material you missed!" Adrien said to Kagami. His father told him he intends to do business with Kagami's mother, and so he has to be Kagami's friend.

"Alright. So what should we review than?" Kagami responded. She wasn't sure they had time for that, the first break wasn't that long.

"Since the next lesson is Math, we should review it first. There'll be an Algebra test next lesson, but I don't know if you will take it. Since you're a new student and all. But let's start with Algebra incase you do!" Adrien responded and took out his Algebra book. "Take out your Algebra book and let's begin!" They started reviewing the material.

Kagami was quite good at Algebra, and she was aware of that. Adrien was impressed with her but she thought the way he was impressed was weird. He was impressed with everything and made her break down the exercises to too many small steps. As if she can't make larger steps. Like she's a child who's expected to know absolutely nothing about Algebra. She knew Algebra damn it! She didn't like it very much. Maybe she'd find someone else to review the material with her.

Adrien was surprised with Kagami's skill, but was unimpressed. He pretended to be though, pretended to be proud of her so she would like him. He was honestly bored out of his mind.

Marinette was in terror watching the study session. Kagami turned out to be great at Algebra and it seemed Adrien was very impressed! Almost as if he's… flirting? This can't be happening!!!!! She started spiralising.

She had to do something about her. Something to keep her away from her Adrien. Something. But what?

If she could get her away from the school, than she'll leave Adrien alone. Or at least she won't be in front of her. She can try and get her in trouble with the school.

For that she'll need to impersonate her, and the best way to do that. Was to get her phone.

Marinette used the same trick as she did with Lila. She used a bookcart to get close enough to them slowly, and than threw a few books at a shelf to distract them. She had enough time for her to get Kagami's phone, hide it in her perse, and stand us from under the table. She exchanged greetings with Adrien and went away.

She hid behind another shelf of books. Tikki came out from her perse close to her ear and asked whispering "Marinette, why did you take her phone?"

"I need to use it to get her away from Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed.

"But why? What's wrong with her being next to Adrien?" Tikki continued to question. She did somewhat know why. But if Marinette will confess it, maybe she'll see reason. Or hear how she sounds like.

"Look at her! She's so smart and pretty, and she's a good fencer! If I don't do anything about it, Adrien will fall in love with her for sure! I have to do something about it!!" Marinette said anxiously.

Tikki facepalmed and shook her head. The bell rang, and Tikki flew into Marinette's bag.

She's supposed to have an Algebra test now.

That's it! The test! She could convince the Teacher Kagami cheated on the test!! Than Kagami will be off the school for sure, and Adrien will not fall for her!

Marinette went to the classroom And sat down in her seet. Adrien and Kagami already arrived before her. The teacher walked in after Marinette. She was a tall white skinned girl with black hair. She wore a black jacket on a white shirt, and a pair of blue Jeans, black glasses, and black shoes.

“Good morning! are you all Ready for the test?” The teacher asked.

“Not at all Mrs. Shamai.” Nino replied. Nino Lahife was a fairly average student. He was OK at Math, his grades were never good, but never raised concerns. He was pretty much OK in all fields equally.

"Don't worry Nino! I'm sure you'll do great!" Alya cheered him on. Alya Cesire was not a good student, but Mrs. Shamai really appreciated her, mainly because of the Ladyblog. If Alya spent half as much on school as she does on the Ladyblog, she'd probably be the best student in class, Maybe even the school. But than, Paris wouldn't have the Ladyblog. And that'd be a catastrophe for everyone.

So she sometimes cheats the system a little in Alya's favour. She lets her get away with not doing homework, she judges her tests softer. Alya is doing so much for Paris, so she does that for her.

"Hey Mrs." A student called. She doesn't recognize her. Oh! She's probably the new student.

"Hello there! Are you new? My name is Michal Shamai! And what's yours?" Well what is she going to do with her now. Obviously she can't take the test. She'll have to speak to her after class to see how much she knows and schedule private lessons to cover what she doesn't.

"My name is Kagami Tsurugi." Kagami replied trying to stand out.

"Well it's lovely to meat you Kagami! We have a test today, but you'll take it another time. Take one test so you can see what we learned so far and you can go on break. I'll need to talk you after the test, OK?" Michal told Kagami, doing her best to be bright and accepting.

"OK." Kagami took a copy of the test, and left.

Marinette found that pleasing. Kagami now has the means to cheat. If only she could get out, she could send the answers to the test from Kagami's phone, and make everyone think it's Kagami.

"Everyone turn of your phones. If you need to have it on, put it on my desk." Adrien and Max stood up and put their phone on her desk.

Adrien always needed to have his phone on and ready to take calls. She knows he has a busy life and was expected to disappear any minute.

As a student, he was a good student. She didn't like him, cause he was a rich boy. But she couldn't deny that his grades were always good. From what she seems of him, it's not like he has a knack for it. It seems he just has good teachers and high expectations.

Max used to give his phones to her on tests, to avoid distractions as he once told her. It was always off. He was a good student, he had quite a skill for Algebra. She liked him too, he was very nice.

They both sat down and Michal gave out the tests one by one. By her orders everyone turned over the test and started.

Marinette started the test, and started doing it as fast she could. Skipping questions, not really doing everything. After ten minutes, she stood up and gave Mrs. Shamai the test.

"Are you sure Marinette?" Mrs. Shamai asked her. Marinette was very bad at Algebra, and got easily confused. Her grades were very low. Watching her give the test so early means she probably gave up. That felt wrong with her.

"Positive!" Marinette said.

"Please try more." Mrs. Shamai requested. She saw the test and it was almost empty. "If you really can't, we can schedule a private lesson and go over it. Ok?"

Marinette knew she couldn't escape that. Maybe if she'll take it, she'll have an opportunity to raise her grade. "OK" she answered and got out of the classroom.

It was time for her to execute her plan. She started first by going to the Teacher's Lounge, and secretly looking in Mrs. Shamai's locker. She found another copy of the test and started searching for Kagami. Fortunately she found her in the same table she had the study session with Adrien.

She used one of the free algebra apps and inputted the questions from the test. She opened Kagami's phone. Who'd she send the answers to? Everyone. The more the better, the more chance of Mrs. Shamai finding it.

She copied the first answer into the message and sent. She patiently waited, checking every chat window if the message was read. Most of them haven't received the message, but Adrien received it, so she stuck to him. She sent the second message to everyone again, and waited patiently again.

She did it again. Now the message was shown as read. She had to act quickly. She opened YouTube through the browser on Kagami's phone, played Wind Up God from Pandora Voxx on full volume, and made her escape. She knew the song only started five seconds in the video, so she could have time to escape.

Kagami suddenly heard a very loud noise. She went to check it and found a phone playing a song. Her phone. She turned it off. How did get there? How did she not notice it was lost? She didn't think she took it out from her bag. Why was it playing that song? Was it stolen?

Mrs. Shamai was watching the class, when Adrien’s phone got a notification. She saw how everyone got distracted. Adrien can only check his phone privately if he gets a phone call. Meaning it’s very urgent. If that happens, he will leave for the day and will do the test another time.

Adrien got another notification. And another notification. “Adrien make the notifications stop. If you have to check it, show it to me so I know you don’t cheat.”

Adrien stood up and opened the phone so both he and Mrs. Shamai could see it. He got a message from Kagami? He opened the message and saw it’s conents. Mrs. Shamai gasped, and Adrien tried explaining he didn't try to cheat.

“I didn’t try to cheat! I promise! It’s not my fault! Please don’t fail me.” He begged Mrs. Shamai.

“Leave it for the principal.” Mrs. Shamai said. She called the principal and told him what happened.

Kagami heard a voice calling “Kagami Tsurugi to the principal's office”. That sounds very bad. She started spiralizing. That was very very bad.

In a different place, Hawkmoth was rejoicing. "I can feel it. The anxiety and distress of a girl who might lose everything." A butterfly landed in his hand, and he corrupted it. "Fly away my little Akuma! Wait for her anxiety to blow up, and evilise her!!"

Marinette had done it! She managed to execute her plan, and run away undetected! Now Kagami will stay away from Adrien for sure! In the corner of her eye, she saw a black butterfly. “An Akuma? Who might it be for?” She asked out loud.

“You know exactly who it’s for Marinette!!” Tikki said with anger. Obviously, she was referring to Kagami.

“Oh Please come on. There’s a Math test today. Basically everyone is upset. It can be for anyone.” Marinette said annoyed, not fully grasping the effect she had on Kagami. “We better transform.” Marinette ran to the bathroom which were luckily empty. “Tikki Spots on!”

Kagami didn’t know where the principal office was, so she had to ask many people for directions. But eventually she found it and entered to find Adrien, Mrs. Shamai, and someone else. Probably the principal.

“Young Mrs. you’re in great trouble!” He yelled at her. Adrien looked at her in a way she couldn't decipher. Mrs. Shamai was glaring. What did she do to deserve this? Why were they so angry at her? She looked down in shame.

The Akuma following Kagami had settled hiding behind her, waiting for a command from Hawkmoth.

"What happened?" Kagami asked trying to hold back tears.

"You know exactly what you've done young lady! You thought we wouldn't catch you? But we did! Mrs. Shamai saw what you sent to Adrien." The principal replied mockingly. What messages? She didn't even have his number! Was her phone stolen? Oh no! She'll get in so much trouble!

"I never sent Adrien anything!" Kagami said, panicking.

"That won't work on us now. We have evidence. Helping someone cheat? On your first day?How dare you! We are going to call your mother!" The principal told her.

Hawkmoth felt a very sudden increase in Kagami's negative feelings. "Catch her my Akuma!". The Akuma obeyed and entered Kagami's phone, clutched in her hand. Kagami's sadness and fear started to transform into burning wrath.

Adrien made a quick escape, and ran away to the Bathroom.

"Come on, can't we sit this one out? You have a Math test! And I have some perfect cheese to indulge in!" Plagg started complaining.

"No time for Cheese! Plagg, Claws Out!"

"Elemental, I am Hawkmoth! This thief thinks he can destroy your world? Well I'm giving you the power to break their world! And everyone's world! All I ask in return is Ladybug's and Cat Noir's Miraculous! Will you help me?" Hawkmoth said in his usual dramatic fashion.

"Yes, Hawkmoth." With that, Kagami became wrapped in purple, and the Principal and the teacher scrambled to escape.

[maxbradley]

After Today (Prelude)

It's been a couple of weeks since my dad left to spend the rest of his happy life with the librarian, Ms. Mar-pole-ey. Er, I mean Marpole. Wasn't her name "Sylvia" or something? Whatever. I'm glad that he found the right one after so long. I really am! It's been a while since I had a mother. Heh heh. Man, the sun's making me kinda tired. I shuffle to the blinds and mess with the drawstrings until the orange light disappears from the room. The cotton feels good on my nose, cushioning my fall to the bed, "You did good, Max. You did good." I wrap arms around my pillow and bury my face in there for a minute, trying to get a wink of sleep… "Hey Max!" I let out a tiny groan as the wheat field disappears from my view again. Thrown back into nothing but a black hole, my hands reach for the edge of the mattress before I push my hand out of the cushion. My muzzle made a funny looking imprint, from what my half-shut eyes could see, "Yeah Bobby,”—I yawn, "What is it?" My aching neck won't support my skull; my head fell into the pillow again. Another groan. I really didn't want to get up this time. "What are you lying around for?? Come on Max the night is young”—He's shaking my shoulders again. Okay. So you may be asking, have I been plain lazy since we beat the Gammas at the X-Games? "Fine! I'll get up on my own thanks!" The blood rush to my brain knocks me out of balance. Well, no. I'm having a good summer so far. The rigorous practice cut itself down to a casual joyride. The same adrenaline drives me to greater heights, literally! And that look on his face—A laugh wakes me from my dry spell. Popularity soaring since we won. The trophy that my dad can show off to everyone— I'm feeling good right now! Oh wait. The feeling's gone. Dammit. "Aw. Look at the little champion. He's studying." The book is knocked out of my hands. I whirl my head up to glare straight into dark blue pools. His Gamma Geeks start laughing. All I want to do is punch 'Bradley Uppercrust the Third' in the face. My teeth grit and I stand up, keeping my eyes level to his. "Max. Ignore them. Sit down." PJ's tugging at my shirt. The ex-X Games King kept that smug little smirk, chuckling at his oh-so-clever stunt. I know he hates me for beating him, fair and square.

"Is there a problem, Baby Goof?" "Yeah, Brad. I think there is." Peej stood up and gripped my shoulder. I turn my head as he's shaking his own side to side. "Dog Boy needs his biscotti friend to calm down? What a loose cannon!" Tank looked at me differently from the others. He knows that we saved him. But even as we let bygones be bygones, I can't forget that he's on the other team. The Gamma House became, and still is, the sole target for hate, rancor. We could never be friends, even if we tried. "I think we've had our daily fix. Let's pack it up!" Much less with their retard of a leader… I thought they kicked him out? I growl and settle down on the stone bench. Apparently not. "Are you all right, Max?" I forgot to mention my ravings and rants throughout the preparation of the X-Games. Every other day I'd have something to complain about; usually the subject revolved around Uppercrust. Bobby, at some point, got himself entertained with other aspects of the college life. He's more interested in checking out girls than hear my bitching. It's embarrassing really. So now the only one that puts up with my frustration is my buddy Peej. Since we were kids in Spoonerville, we'd have the best of times—the worst of times and everything in between. Both of us put up with our overbearing fathers until we graduated from high school. Ha ha! And my dad decided to spend a year here to finish his education. I should have noticed a lack of a diploma when I was 11. But to be honest, if it wasn't for him, we would have been disqualified. I'm glad he got through my "get your own life" phase. That was the lowest point I ever had with him since that camping trip… Back when, I was in… ***** I'm a guy like every other. I got hormones. And when you look at a pretty girl you can't help but stare at them as they walk by. It's their fault for wearing shorts and skirts. I know what the ideal woman is from knowing PJ's mother. Debbie was a crazy, ugly looking cousin, but turned out to be a bombshell from what I could remember. Getting all cleaned up for her and everything. Heh heh heh. And then there was her. Roxanne. She was beautiful, inside and out. The wheat field in my dreams under that light blue sky remind me of her… That summer at the end of my sophomore year marked the beginning of our relationship. "Puppy Love", my dad would say as a joke. My feelings for Roxanne were strong even as we spent our last days together in senior year. Like any couple we had some fights, usually because there was something on her mind that she would never tell me, no matter how many times I asked. But then I would see it in her eyes, something was wrong. Eventually people were noticing my growing talent in skateboarding and other athletics, and they told me, "Max you're so good! Have you ever checked out the College X-Games?" "No!" I'd tell them. Then they told me to watch ESPN. So I did. I was floored by all the cool stunts they were doing. The Gammas were the best. I admired the X-Games King at first. He was everything I ever wanted to be: A superior athlete with decent looks, above everything and everyone, admired by all. Popular! I found out too late that he was a jerk. A complete jackass. Back to Roxanne before I crack. "I got a scholarship for college! Can you believe it?!" The tightest hug I ever gave her before spinning her around; I was just getting taller than her, and I think I almost choked her from the enthusiasm ~~~ "Max! Put me down!" "Oh Roxanne this is what I've always dreamed about!" "It's all you've been dreaming about?" "Yeah, what . . . ?" ~~~ I didn't know what to say after that. Her head stayed on her chest. The only thing I could do was kneel under her and give her a kiss on the lips. Hers were shaking, and I felt a tear on my cheek… ***** "Mmmph.—Ha… haa." It's happening again. The excitement was too much—I had to wake up. It began to throb again; l locked my knees together to get it to stop. There are some nights when I love my hormones. And then there are others when I hate them. Dreaming about your first love, now at a time when you get the basics of "that", is kinda disturbing. It seemed, back then, we were too good for that. And even now, I respect women. I swore not to let my primal instincts take over before marriage. And then have kids of our own. I'll make sure not to overprotect them like my dad did… But, maybe, even that… "Nggh!" What the hell was that?! I shot up in my bed before wringing my hands at the warm cloth. I kept on throbbing and throbbing. It wouldn't stop! It won't stop! I fell off the bed and I hear Bobby snort in his sleep. I clamber up to my feet and nearly stumble into the bathroom. I'm careful to click the door shut and turn on the fan before I curse at myself and see my red cheeks in the mirror, "Calm down!" Please calm down! Was it because I kept on obsessing over—?! "Max you're so stupid—I hate this!" I didn't care what hell time it was. I took off everything I had and delved into a cold shower to get rid of all the sweat— Just perfect! ***** "Just fuckin' perfect." I don't think they heard me with my head buried in my crossed arms. "Cheer up buddy. You're not the only one with freaky dreams." I never told them exactly what I dreamed about. "Yeah Max don't let it ruin your day!" I sit up, "But what if it is?!" Our professor glared at us three before clearing his throat. Lucky me to have Brad in the same class this summer session. I can see him from the corner of my eye, smiling at our interrupting of the class. I can't wait when he graduates next year. Good riddance. I groan and bury my head in my arms again, not even paying attention to our lecture on Freudian Theology—or whatever the hell that old man was blabbing on about. He's not the same guy as last year, but man his voice is so boring! God! It took forever until I heard the shuffling of papers and the shutting of notebooks. The zipping of backpacks and the click of tote bags. The light shone through the windows on the chalkboard, orange and a muddy green. I'm all ready for bed, "Max." Peej tapped on my shoulder, "Time to go." I let out a sigh before reaching down to get my pack, "I'll catch up with you later." I'm dead tired. My friend gives me a strange look and shrugs his shoulders, "If you catch up, I'll be at the Bean Scene. Bobby said he'd be at some free rock concert around campus." "I think, I'll just go back to the dorm and sleep." "But that's all you've been doing lately!" "I don't sleep very well." I push myself off of the desk and sway around for a bit before regaining balance on my sore feet. "Suit yourself. Um, do you think that we should, I dunno, go out on a road trip during the weekend or something, get some fresh air?" I sigh deeply and look away from him, "It's fine, Peej." We were the only people in the room. And now I was the only one. The sun was setting even lower, but I kept on staring at nothing. The screech of a nearby car outside snaps me out of my trance. I trudge up the steps and push the door open. I must have tripped on the bottom of a post because the next thing I knew I was on the ground, chin hitting the concrete, "Ouch!" I can see a shoe in front of my face and it threatened to kick me— I roll out of the way quickly and jump off the ground to see an all-too-familiar silhouette, red-orange shining the side of his prissy sweater— "What the hell do you want?!" I wasn't so tired anymore. "What I always wanted to do since we met— The collar of my shirt's pulled up to his giant chin, "beat you." I push him off me and block a blow to my jaw. I came under and punched him in the stomach—It was almost satisfying until I felt my back rammed up against the wall, the back of my head was about to go numb— "Make this easy for the two of us, freshman. Get the fuck out of here. Transfer out of this campus so that I never see your mug again." My eyes widen. I never heard him swear before. "Because, the next time I see it—the next time when we're all alone—I'll break it in!" The grip is suddenly released and he whirls around and leaves, but not down the stone steps. Like a thief he disappears 'round the corner of the building. My shallow breathing made my heart pound violently, for more reasons than one. I shake my head and wrench onto my pack's strap and practically run down the steps, grating my teeth together and only wanting to see Brad in a pool of his own blood— "oof!" The flutter of papers and a couple of books— "Watch it!" I growl. I'm about to push this guy to the ground—this guy with red hair… Dammit, it's a girl. Despite my sudden poisonous fantasies I kneel down begrudgingly to help pick up after her. Our hands touch, and through my glove I feel a wonderful warmth . . . A warmth. "I'm sorry." "It's okay." Our eyes peer up at one another. They lock. Her face is in shock. I recognize that beauty mark anywhere. "Roxanne." I breathe—my heart beat even faster than before. Something caught in my throat, but I didn't care— "Roxanne! Oh!" I knock her down on the bare sidewalk with a big hug, careful not to hit her head. All the feelings from the past washed over me in an older body—a taller body—she felt like a child in my arms, "Max?!”—I let her go so that she could catch her breath. I stand up and take her hand in mine lifting her off the ground and giving her a more civil embrace, "It's so good to see you again I can't believe it!" A finger comes in between our lips. " . . . Is it really you?" more sad than happy. "Yeah, Roxanne! It's me—Max—don't you remember me?" I broke into a humored smile. "I do." Didn't she used to be more bubbly and excited when we saw each other? "What are you doing here I thought you had gone to another campus??" I can't even pause between my words; I felt elated. Her hair got shorter. She's covering more of her skin too. Her shorts became loose jeans. "I did, Max. Stacey moved up here with her family and decided to transfer over. I came with her to visit for a couple of days. This is my last night." "Well how is she? Why are you walking around here by yourself? You were trying to find me, weren'tcha?" A playful nudge on her shoulder, like old times. She finally smiled, "I didn't think I would find you. At all." Then she slowly hung her head, again. A lump caught in my throat again; I had to swallow it down. "Roxanne." My fingers cup her chin and raise her brown eyes to mine. I want nothing more than to kiss her again, "I'll take you to the dorm. Come on." I pick up her stuff and offer her my arm to wrap herself around. "I'm fine, thanks." She's walking ahead of me. "You're walking the wrong way!" I laugh. "Oh. Sorry." "Don't be!" ***** Cappuccino's almost ready. I tell the machine to work faster under my breath. From the corner of my eye I can see Roxanne prodding at the scone I got her, "Did I catch you at a bad time? Period maybe??" I chuckle at my own joke. It seemed easier to be myself around her, not having to carry around my façade of the goody-two-shoe kid on campus. I was more mischievous towards her as we reached our senior year together. But I'd always draw the line wherever hands were concerned. I wouldn't dare touch her inappropriately, even now . . . Coffee's done. Damn she's silent tonight. Like before we had an argument. I'd always ask her, "What's wrong?" "Nothing." "Are you sure?" "I'm sure." "Roxanne…" I forget about that endless cycle, "So how's your dad? College done you in yet?" "He's fine. College is good. I'm getting good grades…" "Higher GPA than mine, I bet!" Then she grins. I wish it could stay. I feel like reminiscing, "Did you miss me?" . . . "Did you, miss me??" I never noticed the bags under her eyes, like we suffered from the same spell of insomnia. The way she asked me the question made me nervous. "Of course! Wh- What makes you think otherwise?" The hand holding the mug begins to shake, "ow!" The hot water went into my gloves. "Are you all right, Max?" Roxanne's holding my hand in hers. I'm about to melt, "I've always missed you.. I still dream of the field." "What field are you talking about?" I bite my tongue down; I had let my sophomoric fantasies slip out of my big mouth. Her brows come together. I'm not liking her expression right now. "Look Max. I'm not surprised if you've gone and seen other girls. I don't care if you still see them after I'm gone." What? "Roxanne”—The chair scrapes the floor as I find myself kneeling before her—"Don't go. Not yet." "But I'm not leaving yet. Max, what are you doing??" My lips were pressed against her knuckles, palm, wrist. In a blur my eyes look up to her face before making contact with her own. As I stood up I took her by the waist and held her close, letting myself get lost in her scent. "Max! Stop it!" She's wiping her mouth, her pupils shrunken down. Roxanne's trying to get away. "Please don't go. But what do you mean I can't see you again?" "A lot's been going on and I can't take you with me!" "Roxanne, please—I'll even transfer out of this campus— A sharp slap—"Come back to your senses, Goof!" I let go, shaking. She's petrified in fear… of me. "Roxanne. What have I done wrong now??" "It's not what you did! It never was!" I choke on a gasp. Why am I crying? I wipe my tears before she sees them— "I know I did something wrong Roxanne! If you would just tell me!" You never tell me! The umber flared into lava under the iridescent lights, "Max!" I see her leaning on the kitchen counter for support, lips shaking and face pale as if she were about to throw up, "I was raped!" . . . . . "No. No, you weren't." I couldn't understand why a chuckle was coming from my own throat. "Max! Listen to me!" I'm lounging around on the couch and stifling my laughs. All of a sudden Roxanne's right next to me, "Max—mmph!— "No. You're too good. You're an angel." My right hand runs forever through her hair, dark and tight. I hear a sob within my chest, I feel the tears. Lying on top of me, my angel wrapped her arms around my neck and spoke, "Max . . . Do you remember? When everyone told you how good you were, in skateboarding." I can only give her a kiss on the head, "Yeah." "I got jealous." Of who? "Of your passion." "Why didn't you tell me? If I ignored you because I got caught up in sports, you could have told me." I turn over so that our eyes are the same height from the ground. We're pressed against the couch, holding onto each other for dear life. "I got depressed for a while… and then… he— ~~~ "Hey Roxanne. How 'bout Stacey's party?" ~~~ "We were juniors, Max, when it happened. I was so stupid to let him comfort me, hold me. Because, at that point, I wasn't getting any of that from you. You kept on obsessing over some 'Bradley Uppercrust'— In a pool of his own blood. "Roxanne. Don't mention that name again. I don't want to hear it." Her eyelids raise a bit and she nods her head, "Okay." I finally got a kiss from her dry lips, covered with salt. I didn't want to hear the rest. Good thing, because she was never going to tell me. It was her turn to comfort me when I burst into tears when the truth sank in… "I want you—I want to be with you forever… Marry me." My eyes blur over and fog out as I held on tighter . . . Marry me. "Please don't go." My arms are wrapped around my pillow. The sun shone yellow on my bedroom wall. Lazy eyes scanned the nightstand. The analog clock reads 7:20AM. I could hear the snoring of my roommates. I stare at the ceiling for the longest time before stretching out my arms and legs—one of them got a severe cramp, "ff—- owow ow—" I let the blood circulate so the pain would go away. All that was just a dream. I groan and sit myself up on the bed. After standing I stretch out even more and breathe in as much oxygen as I can. I exhale and shuffle to the bathroom, turn on the faucet and rinse my damp face. The cold water burned my cheek. It stung, "What?" Face wet, dripping of all the sweat and tears I shed, I spot a red mark in the mirror right where her hand had struck. Was I still in a dream, or in a living nightmare?

[twistedcharismaaa]

The Boring Are the Most Interesting Pt. 4 ...

Summary: You have been dealt an unfavorable hand and you’re trying to make the best of it. Maybe your new roommate Trevante can help you with that?

Author’s Note: Hi guys! I know it’s been a minute since the last update. But here it issssss! I hope you guys enjoy! This fic is near and dear to my heart! I appreciate all of you for reading and supporting this story. I love you guys sincerely. And you guys know my favorite line, leave a comment for ya girl!

Tre hurried to his room to make adjustments for you. He grabbed extra blankets and placed them neatly on his bed. He didn’t know exactly how you preferred to sleep so he wanted to make sure that he provided options. He prepared a pallet on the floor not too far from the bed just in case you weren’t comfortable being so close to him. He didn’t mind giving up his bed for you. You woke up breathless with tears streaming down your cheeks meeting equally at your chin. Your body shivered and your voice was faint. Weak. He wanted to be more inquisitive but he didn’t want to come off intrusive. He cared for you genuinely, but he still recognized that there were boundaries. He valued you along with your privacy. He noticed how your life lacked a certain type of respect. 

Tre always pretended to be clueless regarding him moving in with you. He knew that you had a sister that wouldn’t approve of him. And needless to say, Rico hated him on and off the field. But being disliked was the least of his worries because that was something that he was accustomed to. He grew up in an environment that lacked love. Affection and appreciation were hard to find. So being disliked didn’t matter. As long as you wanted him to stay he would. 

After about 45 minutes, Trevante realized that his room was practically rearranged. He pushed his bed farther up in the corner away from the vent in the ceiling. He wanted to make sure that air wouldn’t blow on you directly. He moved his nightstand closer to his bed in hopes that you would use it to steady yourself since your leg bothered you frequently. He decided to give you the fluffier pillows and the right side of the bed which was closer to the restroom. He thought it was the least he could do for you after the day that you had. You were always one that carried your circumstances without complaints and he admired that tremendously. But he wanted you to know that it’s ok to admit that life actually sucks sometimes.

Trevante left his room and knocked softly at your bedroom door. 

“Hey, um I’m ready whenever you are. If you’re still interested that is,” he said while laughing awkwardly. 

“H-Hey, I made need a raincheck actually,” you replied.

“Oh aight. Well, I’m here- whatever you need. Let me know, I’m just across the hall.” he said while hanging his head in defeat.

Trevante took a couple of steps away from your door with the intention of retreating back to his room. He stopped abruptly when he heard you groan. He knocked again, but this time more aggressively.

“You good in there?” he questioned.

“Mhm,” you responded with a strained voice.

“Charisma, be for real. You good? Fair warning and respectfully, I’m about to come in. Are you ok?” he quizzed again.

“Shit! Shit!” you screamed.

Trevante pushed your door open and ran into your room. He found you on the floor with your body curled over in a ball. He quickly crouched down beside you and touched you gently. 

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt? Do I need to call 911?” he asked calmly.

You looked at him shamefully.

“N-No just some minor inflammation in my leg. I just can’t get up,” you admitted.

Before Tre could investigate further you banged your fists on the floor repeatedly. Your frustration was getting the best of you. Your body was tired and so was your spirit. It was bad enough that you were unraveling, but now you were unraveling in front of him. 

Tre grabbed your fist in mid-air. He rubbed your hand with his thumb. 

“I’m going to pick you up now.” He informed.

You nodded.

Tre picked you up effortlessly and sat you on your bed. 

“Point me to the medicine that helps you with this,” he demanded.

You pointed to the medication and remained silent. You watched him grab the medication and the water that was on your nightstand. 

“Take your medication Charisma. I’m right here with you,” he instructed.

Tre grabbed one of your pillows and placed it under your knee gently. You swallowed the pills and continued you watching him.

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t need to be. Trust me. I guess I just have to sleep in here.” he smirked.

“Tell me specifically where it hurts,” he stated.

“Um, here. It starts at my thigh and shoots down my leg.” you swallowed.

“You got lotion?” he asked.

“In the bathroom. Why?” you quizzed.

Trevante went into the bathroom and came back out with a bottle of lotion.

“May I?” he suggested.

“Y-yes,” you responded in awe.

He rubbed the lotion on the palms of his hands and then slowly rubbed them on your thigh. His touch was firm yet soft. 

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“It feels fine,” you answered. 

Tre eyed your thighs lustfully as he licked his lips. He moved his hands from your thigh down to your leg. It was overwhelming feeling his strong hands caress your skin. The rubbing, the gripping, and the squeezing. His muscles flexed as he operated causing goosebumps to form on your skin. 

“Cold?” he asked slyly.

“It’s a draft in here or something.” you lied.

“Want me close the door?” 

“Tre, why are you so nice to me? Why are you even here with me right now?” you blurted.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he retorted.

“Tre you’re handsome, smart, athletic, popular-.”

You sighed and continued.

“You could have any girl you wanted. Why do you want someone like me? I just had a life-alert scene two seconds ago. Who wants that?” you said shamefully.

“I do,” he replied boldly.

“But how?”

“How could I not? You’re intoxicating to me. You’re thoughtful, funny, beautiful- I could go on and on. You brighten any room that you enter. You’re so damn alluring. It’s ok for a nigga to want you. Lupus don’t stop you from being fine. Lupus doesn’t stop you from being you. It’s something that you struggle with but it’s not who you are.” he answered.

“No one has ever been interested in me before,” you said innocently.

Tre’s lips graced your thigh sweetly. He bit his lip and pulled the covers over you.

“No one has ever made me feel the way that you do,” he admitted.

“How do I make you feel?” you asked sweetly.

“Wanted. I’m a real lonely nigga. I never told anyone that before. But I’m more alone than you know.” he said while looking down.

——

Part 1. Part 3 Part 5

@quietstorm-73​ @rolemodelshit​ @tyees​

@soulfood-fics @l-auteuse @keiva1000 @thickemadame @liyahshaeking

@xo-goldengirl @blackmissfrizzle @artsninspo @ghostfacekill-monger @chaneajoyyy

@bugngiz @lostennyc @foulmouthedandfanfic @raysunshine78 @tip222u @doublesidedscoobysnacks

[dobriking]

Bend Into A Break (3)

Summary: Not one, but two vlog-squads came with the death of Vine. And the rumored beef between you two is absolutely true! So, you and David (begrudgingly) set up a month long-retreat among your groups to film team challenges and go against each other. Y’know. For views. Pairing: David Dobrik x Reader, Enemies to Lovers, living together. Warnings: Profanity, mentions of drinking, sexual...themes?

1 | 2 | 3

“David…you do realize how impractical it was to rent the party bus, right?”

David hangs out the bus by holding onto the door’s nearby pole, and carelessly swings back and forth, only his heels keeping him on the bus’ front step. He sucks his lips in, really thinking about it. Because to him it seems only practical to get everybody completed wasted to prevent the car-equivalent of capsizing from the many fights likely to break out.

So he blinks very slowly.

You sigh. “David…how is anybody going to leave like we promised if we’re renting one party bus just to take us there? And if no on-demand Ubers will be in the vicinity of a creepy, half-haunted mansion on a hill available to drive a bunch of bumbling adult babies from one house to the next because somebody forgot their stupid phone battery?”

Oh. That’s what you’re getting at.

He’s stuck letting out this crackling groan trying to think of something to say.

“Well uh,” he snaps his fingers — genius, “that’s why me and you are taking the Tesla.”

You drop your head. “We’re going to leave our groups drunk and unsupervised on a party bus together aren’t we?”

“I…didn’t think this through.”

“No, David. You didn’t.” You walk inside, your black bomber jacket making more noise for your dramatic exit than you would have liked. But to start this week out right (after the previous week of haphazardly buying and planning for this), you, David, and the rest of the crew wear the merch you promised. Well, the closest you could get to it. You couldn’t create around 18 labeled shorts and shirts in such a short time, so you gathered typical athletic styles, red and blue for each team, and scoured the internet for stitched name tags to be pinned on each shirt.

You chose our style thinking of the future and how convenient an easier way to air out would be. So your shorts are cut off at (almost) the very top of your thigh, traditional to those stereotypical 70s shorts with the neon majority and white trim. Currently you’re freezing your ass off with the clouds hanging overhead, but your jacket does something to proportionate the warmth.

You pass around the name tags to everybody standing in David’s living room, clustered in groups of two with their corresponding members.

To deal with Natalie being an outlier, David (with a pain in his heart) agreed to let her represent your team opposite Scott. You’re careful handing her the badge and she takes it with caution, pinning it in her shirt while her eyes continuously flicker to yours.

Zane and Noel, Heath and Cody, they make some contest out of who can put their badge on faster. Heath cackles and runs his finger up Cody’s chest to flick him in the nose, trying to trick him into thinking his badge is horribly off-center. Zane gives Noel the stink-eye for giving Heath the stink-eye for messing with his friend.

Corinna and Enya don’t try messing with each other. Contrary, Corinna brought Enya some lemonade and they stir their straws through the ice in unison as they talk with each other.

Toddy and Amanda (the groups’ resident hotties) stand together but don’t look. They watch the others, unable to shake their anxieties.

Erin and Emily, Carly and Chloe…they’re getting along just fine!

Actually talking!

You smile at the display ready to hand them their badges, but make it quick when you hear them mutually bashing the trip. Ouch, okay.

Then there’s Matt and Drew. They sit opposite each other on the couch, and similarly too with their legs spread and hands limp in their lap. They can’t figure out what’s so similar about them, but it’s easy! They’re both pretty tall and seem to be a voice of reason, but then they hit you in the gut with bizarre humor and blatant understanding.

At the very least everybody’s followed instructions and bought the clothes you provided them. They have their suitcases and backpacks, and while you know none of them are really prepared for what you and David have in store, they’re prepared enough.

You hop on David’s coffee table, cup your hands around your lips, and whistle.

“Okay okay, listen up! So David’s got the party bus — “

Corinna squints “But what about our cars?”

You hiss. “Heh, that’s what I tried to tell him but guess what, he still has the party bus! So..!” You pump your fist in the air; you couldn’t be less enthusiastic, “Yay…Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. Right now I think its best we all just travel together, and when you start to go insane with being unable to leave in anything but a strobing party bus, we’ll probably drive everybody around and pick up a few cars.”

Scott frowns, impressed. “So no Tesla? Never thought he’d part with that thing.”

“Oh no, he’s bringing the Tesla.”

“Hey, that’s no fair!”

“Yeah how come he gets to bring his car but we can’t bring ours!”

You groan and your volume and intensity increase with each word, “Because he just wanted you all to get drunk and have fun and not murder each other on the three-hour drive and he didn’t connect the dots about him bringing his Tesla and you guys not bringing your own cars o-KAY?!”

You hop down and stomp out of the room. “Just bring your damn bags and stop complaining!”

David’s standing by his Tesla holding a hand to his hip and the other to his forehead, spieling his eyes from the sun beaming down from behind the house. “How’d it go?” He’s chewing his cheek. “Good?”

You shrug and drop your arms. “I dunno.” You force a smile. “Started getting mad about the car thing but I told them to shut up then left so I have no idea how it escalated.”

“Hmm, that’s good. You need to like, be more assertive.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Your voice is lost on him once you hop on the bus and look around.

It may be a little tight. Like David said, being drunk (for those who can be) might do a bit to deal with the comfort but you have an inkling a fight might break out before they even bring out the vodka. “Hey, David?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think ew should take a few people with us?” You head off but he hops on, swinging in by the door’s immediate pole.

He shakes his head, “Nah, they’ll be fine.”

You sigh through your nose and return to looking deep into the bus. “I think the fact we have to get them drunk during the transport is enough of a red flag.”

“Yeah no definitely.” You’re shocked by his ease but he shrugs. “But don’t worry.” He pats your arm. “Gonna be fun.” Then he hops back off. You back out slowly and in time to see him jogging inside the house to gather everybody. You step out and go to the back, slipping the poor driver a 50. You pat his shoulder and don’t say a word, but he still nods solemnly knowing that you mean the best of luck.

David comes out leading the group and it looks like an elementary school field-trip. He stops at the door, waving his hand to gesture one after another forward, and counts even to make sure everybody’s there. He squints, watching you take pity on the driver before giving him room to haul everybody’s things into the under-part of the bus.

You watch them get on one by one, actually worried. David can see it from where he stands. He keeps his eyes on you over his shoulder as he locks up the house, though only does that after popping into do a quick run through and make sure the doors are locked and lights are on.

While checking with the driver to make sure his address is right, he admits it is indeed crowded.

He steps over everybody to get to the back’s fridge and out he cradles bottles of champagne and vodka to the middle table, cheering “Yaaaay!” To combat the stillness. He stands back, hands on his hips and gestures the drunk. “C’mon guys, have some fun. Woo!” He claps and skips to the front, “Party time!” Ignoring the discomfort he brings Corinna and Cody particularly (Cody disturbed with her close presence and Corinna disturbed by the sheer amount of space he fills up with his spread legs).

David hops off the bus and jogs to his Tesla. You’re in the passenger seat and he slips in, buckles up, and starts it as fast as he can.

He wonders if there’s enough alcohol on the bus to last three hours. His bets are they’ll battle it out, get drunk out of frustration, and have a really good time for about an hour then pass out before reaching the third. Fourth depending on traffic.

You jump at his hurriedness, voice quaky. “Everything okay?” And buckle yourself.

He bites his tongue and waits. When the bus’ driver gives him a thumbs up he answers, “Yuuup,” before driving.

You hum. “There’s a bathroom on the bus…right?”

“Yup, yup.” He thinks so but he’s not sure. Best to assure himself that it won’t be a literal shit-show.”

You frown. “David…are they gonna die?”

He holds his tongue again. “Mhmm.”

You slump back and pick at your sleeves.

Thirty minutes in and you become comfortable enough to make yourself comfortable. You pull your legs up to the seat, though hesitate when David eyes you. Seeing you rethink your decision he shakes his hand over your lap as he turns a corner. “Oh no don’t worry — that’s nothing compared to what they’ve done in here.” You slowly bring your legs back up, and David too relaxes, thighs separated and palm press to one of them.

He sticks his hand between his seat and the center console, pulls out the aux cord, and tosses it in your lap. You play some tunes knowing full well David’s put them at the end of a few vlogs — just to be safe.

Though you get a chill when Zedd’s “Beautiful Now’ comes on and you’re treated to the (wonderfully sung) lyrics of:

I see what you’re wearing, there's nothing beneath it

Forgive me for staring, forgive me for breathing

David rolls his shoulders and sinks deeper. But the initial soft sounds of the track grow into something more powerful and you’re both ignoring it until the beat drops again:

Stranded together, our worlds have collided

This won't be forever, so why try to fight it?

That’s ironic, you think.

And on cue David says “That’s ironic,” with a faint chuckle.

You chuckle too. It’s breathy and highlights your anxiety even more with the addition of the otherwise silent car. “Sure is…”

Maybe five minutes pass, then David reaches and turns it down. He sniffles, swiping his wrist under his nose as you come to a red light.

“So, uhm…” He blinks harshly and rapidly before shaking his head at himself and forcing a chuckle. “I don’t even know what I was going to say.” You hum to soothe him. Then he snaps his fingers, “Oh yeah! So like…? What challenges do you have in mind. I have some obviously, just wondering what you have.”

“Oh. Well…” you sit up and grab your phone, turning down the volume even more and opening your notes. “I mean I had some typical stuff like a water balloon fight.” You point over your shoulder. “Brought some balloons for that —“

He takes his eyes off the road and light, “Red and blue?” and smiles are you.

You chuckle. “Yup…yup. Red and blue. So water balloon fight, the pool could be of use but I dunno, a swimming content seems too standard.”

“Right.” The light’s green and he gets going again, letting his eyes dart to you every so often when it’s the least inconvenient.

You start to stretch, wrapping your arms behind you and around the headrest. It lengthens you out and lifts your shirt a little. “I figured we’d be ordering food all month, but at one point before Heath goes too crazy we should have a cooking contest or something.”

David watches you stretch. But he hisses at himself realizing how strange it must be. You recall his hissing as a response to your suggestion however and he saves himself with “Ouch. Just gonna hand over a win like that?”

You shrug. “I mean hey, if he doesn’t pull out a hatchet I’ll gladly give you guys a win.” Speaking of hatchet, “Kind of a shame we’re in California cause a snowball fight could show spectacular sportsmanship.”

His face scrunches up. “It’s still June.”

“Yeah but still. I’d be willing to postpone for that. Snowball fight, sledding, white elephant and crap.”

He leans forward, squinting to read the sign up ahead. “Some holiday spirit would make everybody a little less angry. I’ll see what I can do.”

You find that curious but ignore it and continue. “And since we’re a bunch of adult babies I figured we’d all get a kick out of a giant pillow fort. I’m talking all through the house. We could figure out things to do in there like those games where you try to balance an egg on a spoon…only through a pillow fort.

“OOoooOoo, I like. And uhm, campfire? We could like, do a campfire. Tell stories. I mean you rented a creepy ass mansion for this so,” he clears his throat, “let’s knock some socks off, y’know?”

“…Did you just say ‘let’s knock some socks off?’”

“What’s said in the Tesla stays in the Tesla.”

“Got it…Why don’t we just shove every season of the year into one month”

“I mean hey,” you chuckle, “sounds good to me!”

You don’t have anything else to bring up, and neither does David. He turns the music back up, and after a few songs “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga comes on maybe an hour into the drive…you and David squint forward, taking in the synth instrumentals with her slick voice.

“Hey—“ your voice cracks “—what do you think about a lip syncing contest?”

David gulps. “Yes.”

Immediately David pops in your mind when you think of this song. Digging through your childhood memories you recall ‘Total Drama Island.’ You reabsorb that damn show and every little thing about it, specifically that season where the host switched teams up the last minute. But no, that wouldn’t work. You would be on different teams regardless of the shake-up being team-leaders and all.

“Wh-” you start. David looks at you, waiting. “What if it’s like, a versus battle. So like, me versus you, Enya versus Corinna, corresponding people, y’know? Instead of the entire group.”

David hums. “Yeah but, who’s going to vote?”

Can’t be your fanbases because the answer to them would always be clear.

“Uh…anonymous voting? Each person votes for who objectively did better in the battle for each battle, and then, y’know.”

“What about voting for yourself?” He shoots it down, logically.

You sit deeper in your seat and slide down a bit, neck posing your head awkwardly against the seat rather than the headrest. “I hope everybody’s mature enough to be objective…”

David leans against the center console and picks at his lips. Then he snaps his fingers, “I got it. Surprise guests. Like, I could bring Brandon and Jason.” He points at you with his thumb, “couldn’t you fly Tom here and like, get Casey? Frey? And they have to come to a mutual decision. Problem solved.”

You hum. “So to be clear me and you are dancing to ‘Bad Romance’, right?”

“Oh definitely.”

You clap once, “Good on that.”

“I mean, we both know you’ll win, so,” he says so casually, turning down the music again. It’s sickening to see him pass over the crown so easily.

You scoff. “That’s not true. You’re very expressive.”

David smiles. “Oh. Am I?”

“Yeah.” You roll your eyes, unsure if this is him fishing for compliments or his ignorance. “You can shake it, David. No — you can work it. I’m not gonna deny that.”

He hums and bites his thumb.

“What?” You nod at him, beckoning him to continue. He lets out a faint squeal and shakes his head, going to different lengths from covering his mouth with his palm to his wrist to biting his fingers again to keep quiet. “David, tell me.”

“‘anks for ‘icing.”

“David — articulate.”

He giggles and repeats, “Thanks for noticing,” in a whisper. You roll your eyes and slink down further in your seat. He stutters for a moment but shouts “Hey! Y-you’re uh, you’re pretty expressive too…so.” He slaps the steering wheel and sits back at the next red light. “I said it. You’re ‘expressive’ too, okay? So who knows which of us is going to win?”

You squint. “So basically you check out my ass—“

“Hey! I did no—“

You cackle, “But you still check out my ass!”

“Okay!” He holds up a finger and runs his tongue over his lips. “Okay okay, but to be fair, you check mine out too!” He curses himself. You have the strange ability to pull facts out o your ass and whoever isn’t prepared enough for them falls right into your trap.

“HA!” No I don’t!”

“YOU SAID I’M EXPRESSIVE!”

You jump and lean over the console to get in his space. “I LOOK AT YOUR LEGS!” You slap at where they’re clothed. “Your thighs! And your waist and your chest and your arms - ALL of you is expressive, David! You’ve got this like,” you scrunch your hands up, “weird, tiny little dancer’s body!”

“Wait wait wait hold on a minute!” You lean back, cheek against your seat. “How am I worse?!” He laughs. “I only look at your ass, you look at all of me!”

“Because I look at you in an artistic way. Cause that’s what the body is: a beautiful piece of art.”

He gulps, trying to hum as though impressed with your observation. But it hurts his throat to do it and he coughs, choking on his own giggles and having to press his fist to his lips to stop it all from spilling over as he starts driving again.

He takes a deep breath, focusing all his energy on not giving himself away this time. “Well psh, how,” he takes a deep breath, “how do you know I don’t look at you like a piece of art?”

You shrug. “Cause you don’t. Or,” you hum, “wait? Do you?”

Hoping this time it’ll work in his favor, David keeps his mouth shut. Still, his lips curl fighting a smile, but he’s successful. You hum with your mouth open (“Mhmm”) and keep your jaw slack for a period before chewing on your cheek. Though you still make the effort to hum, making your thought process accessible to David.

“You know,” your hand goes over his, jokingly (of course), “I’m very flattered you consider me a piece of art. No no-not just that, but a ‘beautiful’ piece of art.”

“I mean, what am I supposed to say?” His chin goes to his chest and he shakes his head as best as he can. “I’m not a liar Y/n, so.”

“Never said you were.”

“You have a hot body so I’m gonna say you have a hot body. So let’s just —“ he swipes his hand down like a karate chop, “—stop with the, y’know, work-arounds.”

When the silence becomes too much, David notices you staring at him. Almost emotionless but with the tiniest upward flick of the corner of your lips. He does a double take, readjusts his position in his seat.

“I’m gonna ask you to rethink what you just said to me.” He squints, not sure why but you see his brows twitch while he does as asked,

Then he jumps, eyes wide and body as stiff as a board. His jaw drops before his teeth dig into his lip, then “UGH!” He slams the center console, turning the corner with one hand and waving his other around with each syllable. “How do you do that?!” When the words initially came from his mouth they came out so formally yet so casually he hardly thought anything of it. Like how he would tell Jason to cut the shit, only this time instead of just ‘cut the shit’ he said to ‘cut the shit’ in terms of dodging the notion he’s attracted to you.

You shrug and pat his shoulder. “Allll you buddy.”

“I—“ he shakes his head, “—I never said that. What is said in the Tesla stays in the Tesla.”

“Fine by me. If that’s the case guess we’re not gonna put on the record that I would totally let you rail me. So, whatever.”

What.

You dig through your backpack and crack open an Arizona iced tea. The click of the metal and bubbling of the drink as you swallow breaks some of the silence.

Otherwise, at this moment David embodies the meme of that blonde gal’s eyes jumping every which way, some math problem overlaid on the screen. He’s completely silent, and you shift, waiting. His nose scrunches up every time he thinks he’s got it but he just can’t quite grasp onto what you said.

In a tiny voice, “Well I’d rail you too—“

You throw your head back and dig your free palm into your eye — “I WAS KIDDING!”

You weren’t. Not entirely.

“OKAY WELL SO WAS I!” David’s face is so flustered you swear you could stick your hand to his cheek and leave an indent showing his true tone. You bang your head back against the headrest over and over, eventually biting your thumb so you don’t cry from hysterical laughter. He’s snickering but ultimately blinking tears out of his eyes. He shakes his head, clenching the wheel with both hands (for once). “I hate you so much.”

“Awe…” You squeeze his shoulder. “I hate you too.”

Maybe this won’t be such a long ride?

TAGS

@wefracturedmotivation @blackhood5sos @i-heart-movies @sinfulmango @edalalalalalala @mostlydobrik @latelycrazy @zavidzobrik @thetrickster67

[thedaughterofkings]

Kiss Mates

For my very dearest Larissa, @ohfuckthisshit!

I believe one of the last things you asked for was to make you cry like a baby, but I can’t do that, it’s your birthday!!! I hope instead you’ll accept the following 2.8k of Drarry fluff! It’s all sugar with almost no nutritional value, but that’s just how a birthday cake (or perhaps rather cupcake in this case) is supposed to be, isn’t it!

It’s based on this post I found deep in my prompts tag.

Happy reading and the happiest of birthdays!

“Aaaaand here he finally comes - Scary Harry, the youngest seeker in a century, even knows how to ride a dragon, and no, that is not a euphemism, Malfoy! Give it up for - HARRY POTTER!”

The crowd is deafening as Harry flies on the pitch, shaking his head still and glad that no one can tell how red his cheeks have gotten. Without Professor McGonagall beside him with her wand ready, Lee has only gotten worse. Ugh, he doesn’t even want to imagine what the Prophet is going to fabricate around that dragon line tomorrow. If he has any luck, they’ll focus on the actual dragon part (somehow that hadn’t become wider knowledge yet), but knowing them, the focus will be on the Malfoy part. Especially as poor, reformed Draco, saviour of the poor and the sick and the unfashionably clad has been their absolute favourite person as of lately. Add in Harry and a salacious suggestion and Rita Skeeter is going to have a field day.

Becoming a professional Quidditch player hadn’t ever been the plan. Well, there had been that short period in first year, high off his first game, but Voldemort had all too quickly entered the scene to entertain that fantasy for long. Then for years, Harry had seen no future without that snake-faced bastard at all. Auror had seemed to be the only way to go, the only way to learn the necessary skills he’d need to stay alive, while helping other people at the same time. But then defeating Voldemort had turned out, not easier, never easy, but certainly quicker than Harry had ever dared to hope. And there he’d been, seventeen, graduated from Hogwarts with not a single NEWT but enough power and influence to just fill up his resumé with all Outstandings and no energy left for fighting at all. 

Ron had jumped at the chance to enter Auror training with no further qualifications necessary, Hermione had had three apprenticeships in widely differing fields lined up three weeks after the final battle, plus an internship with Amelia Bones at the Magical Law Enforcement, and a further eight apprenticeships at the ready should that not be enough to keep her busy and Harry had - been at an utter loss.

Enter Oliver Wood. Literally.

He’d stormed into the Infirmary, where Harry was suffering through a multitude of tests because saying “I am fine” was apparently not sufficient when you’d actually died, and had not even waited for Harry to pull any robes or even just a shirt on before he’d gotten started. Madame Pomfrey had tried to shoo him out immediately, but as Harry had long ago learned, Oliver Wood talking about Quidditch was an immovable force that would budge for nothing but victory. 

“Your country needs you! Your people need you!” he’d boomed and Harry’s heart had sunk. Hadn’t he given them enough? Had they really produced another Dark Lord so quickly? But of course Oliver was not concerned with such measly things as good and evil and megalomaniac wizards. He was talking about Quidditch.

Apparently they were already planning to rebuild the League and according to Oliver it was Harry’s holy duty to help with that - youngest seeker in a century, Harry! Best I’ve ever seen, other than Krum of course, you don’t think you could send him an owl and ask if he’d sign up, too, could you? Imagine the crowd you two would bring! Not that I think you can’t do it on your own, Harry, your talent is obvious enough! Promise me you’ll think about it?

Harry had thought about it. And realised that he had nothing better planned. And that getting to fly and play Quidditch for a living sounded pretty damn perfect. 

Ginny had just told him to enjoy the year while she was still in Hogwarts and be prepared to get his ass kicked once she got her professional start. Their relationship had been another of those things Harry had been at a loss about, but thankfully Ginny had always been smarter than him in that respect. Once things had calmed down a little bit and they’d found themselves alone together for the first time, she’d given him a long hug and a sisterly kiss on the cheek and that had been that. Harry had a feeling he should have felt more heartbroken about that, but given the grander scheme of things he mostly felt relief. And so did Ginny, it seemed.

Hermione had gotten that look that promised a lecture when he’d told her his plans, but then she’d taken another look at him and swallowed it all down. Harry doesn’t know what she’d seen - the mirror showed him a face that had never been well fed but looked dangerously thin now, with tired eyes that still refused to shut sometimes for fear of what images they might see in the dark - but she’d been fully supportive of his career choice ever since. Funnily enough it was probably the one field she was no automatic help in, but Hermione wouldn’t be Hermione if she hadn’t taken it as a chance to learn more. Nowadays she could quote Quidditch through the Ages as well as Oliver Wood himself and had been an immeasurable help in formulating his contract and setting up the League as a whole. 

Ron had struggled most with his decision at first, surprisingly enough. He’d been firmly expecting Harry to join him in Auror training and had had their future planned out accordingly - they’d be partners and solve all the cases had been his plan, Harry thinks; it hadn’t gotten much more detailed than that. To Ron, Harry turning his back on being an Auror had felt like him turning his back on Ron and he’d been quite upset by that. But Ron being Ron, he’d come around quickly once Harry announced he’d be signing up to the Chudley Cannons. 

Ron had been a factor in Harry’s decision of course, but not the deciding factor. Harry had talked to the representatives of almost every team in the League and the guy from the Cannons had been the only one just concerned with the sport and Harry’s qualifications there and not with his fame or power or anything like that. The Chudley Cannons had been the only team where Harry had been sure he’d be chosen for his athletic merit and where he’d actually get to play and not be paraded around as a glorified mascot. 

He has been playing for the Cannons for six years now and it was the best idea he ever had. On the pitch he’s not the Chosen One, The-One-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who, the Most Desirable Bachelor of His Generation (though that’s a title he recently lost to Malfoy, which he’s not very cut up about), or whatever else horrible capitalised moniker they’ve come up with this week. On the pitch he’s - as Lee just introduced him - the youngest seeker in a century, the one who outflew a dragon, the one who actually flew on a dragon, and, hilariously enough, Scary Harry. Throw Malfoy off his broom once and you’re settled with the most ridiculous nickname of them all for all eternity. Harry still holds it had been an accident. And even if it hadn’t been, the git had it coming. And he wasn’t even hurt! He’d done some absurdly agile somersault in midair, somehow got a hand on his broom again and had almost still caught the snitch before Harry. Still, Scary Harry had stuck around. 

Malfoy going pro, too, had been a surprise. 

Ginny had been signed by the Holyhead Harpies as soon as she’d graduated from Hogwarts and she and Harry had fought for most snitches caught, quickest snitch catch, and every other seeker related record in the League ever since. That he’d expected. She had threatened to kick his ass, and did it more often than not. To beat Ginny, Harry really had to dig deep and fly his best flight. Everyone else was boring in comparison. Until Malfoy of course.

After his trial - during which Harry, Hermione, and even Ron had spoken in his defence, he’d kept a low profile. Harry had only known where he’d ended up because he’d gone for an apprenticeship under the same Potions Master Hermione was studying with. The two had kept as far apart as they possibly could at first, but after their Master had threatened to throw them both out, they’d reluctantly started working together and actually started getting along, much to Ron’s eternal horror. They weren’t best friends, and Hermione would never set another foot into Malfoy Manor if any of them could help it, but they were cordial, friendly even almost. Still, it was most definitely a work friendship, so Harry got to mostly avoid Malfoy.

Until Malfoy got his mastery in Potions and instead of doing the sensible thing and either opening up a shop or alternatively relying on his still considerable funds and lazing about, he’d gone pro. Where Harry was the youngest seeker in a century to join a Hogwarts team, Malfoy became the oldest seeker ever to join a professional Quidditch team. And he silenced all rumours of having gotten on because of his money very quickly. From then on the rivalry for the Golden Snitch for the best seeker of the League had become trifold - a fight between Harry, Ginny, and Malfoy. 

And it was fun!

Malfoy was as competitive as ever, but it’s not as though Harry or Ginny were any better. They all used all the skills and tricks available to them, but it stayed fair for the most part. The throwing Malfoy off his broom had been an accident after all. Still, none of them held their punches (sometimes literally), and Malfoy gave as good as he got. (One time Ginny literally ripped out some of his hair - and then innocently produced the snitch when he’d hurled around. Apparently it had been hiding under his plait and Ginny had seen an opportunity and gone for it. She was without a doubt the most vicious of the three of them, and, knowing who she grew up with, Harry really shouldn’t have been surprised by that.)

Off the pitch, Malfoy at first was unfailingly polite, stiffly so, but when it became clear that the Quidditch world was really much more concerned with what was between his legs than on his arm (the brand new Firestorm, the most expensive broom on the market, two generations on from Harry’s old trusty Firebolt, not whatever you were thinking), he’d loosened up. The two of them had ended up gravitating towards each other - by virtue of ducking away from everyone else - at official functions and Malfoy’s sharp tongue and strong opinions on everything from hair styles to fashion choices to the newest development in poison antidotes (Harry was a little lost for that one) was much more entertaining when not directed at Harry or his friends. They’d even done the awkward “let’s leave the past behind us bit” and now they were almost friends. Work friends at least.

Or rather, not work-work friends, because on the pitch everything was still fair game (as long it was actually fair game of course - or close enough to get away with it. Harry finally understood why the hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin.)

Speaking of work, the game is about to start. Which means it is time for the newest addition to a long list of Quidditch traditions: the Kiss Cam. A muggleborn witch had adapted the Muggle custom and the wizarding world had embraced it enthusiastically. Instead of a camera capturing two people sitting next to each other, two mistletoes appeared above the heads of two people somewhere around the pitch - the trick was that instead of being randomly selected, the mistletoes went for the two people with the most chemistry. And because the wizarding world wouldn’t know subtlety if it bit them in the ass, the mistletoes showered their victims with sparkling hearts and made kissing sounds. Thus, you either had the option to be a walking spectacle for the entire game, or you kissed your Kiss Mate. 

Oliver hated it because it could delay the start of the game by quite a bit if the mistletoes chose people on opposing sides of the pitch, but Harry used to find it quite funny. Used to being the important bit here. Because it is far less funny when you are the one with a blinking mistletoe above your head. Up close the kissing noises sound more like Fang greeting Hagrid after he has been away and the showers of sparkling hearts make it rather hard to see. Harry hasn’t been able to spot the other mistletoe yet and while he tries to see past the hearts, he wracks his head trying to think if anyone was going to come to the game today who the mistletoe might choose. 

He hasn’t really had any serious relationships since Ginny and she has her own game to play today, so it definitely can’t be her. (Never mind that that ship has sailed long ago. Plus, Ginny had her own mistletoe moment just a few games ago - Luna of course complained about Nargles until Ginny shut her up with a kiss. They made it onto the front pages of both Witch Weekly, Seeker Weekly, the Prophet, and of course the Quibbler, which Ginny was rather proud of.)

Squinting at the stands hasn’t brought the other mistletoe into focus and Harry is just about to resign himself to playing with a rather obnoxious handicap, when a movement across the pitch draws his eye. Malfoy had taken position high in the air already, just like Harry had, but now he is moving, speeding so fast he is starting to blur. Still, the mistletoe clings on stubbornly, leaving trail of sparkling hearts behind like a shooting star falling from the sky.

A shooting star that is headed directly for Harry.

For a second he thinks Malfoy won’t be able to stop in time, aiming to knock them both off their brooms instead of suffering the embarrassment of having to kiss Harry, but at the very last moment he pulls his broom up sharply and comes to a halt right in front of Harry, so close that they almost touch, close enough that Harry can see Malfoy draw in a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds and then release it slowly. His spine straightens, as if he’d come to a decision and he quirks an eyebrow at Harry in silent question. Neither of them has said a word yet, but it’s not as if they have the greatest track record in that respect. So Harry just lifts his chin slightly in answer to Malfoy’s wordless question and the last thing he sees is those grey eyes flash at the challenge before Malfoy tips them both into a spin that blurs out everything around them. Their brooms lock together and Malfoy’s arms wrap around Harry, one of his legs linking with Harry’s too while they roll once, twice, three times in midair. 

It’s not just the movement that leaves Harry dizzy, though. 

Draco’s lips are surprisingly soft, but still insistent and Harry is helpless to do anything but respond in kind. The kiss is over before Harry can enjoy it properly, more a hint of a promise, than a real promise of what might come, but when they are upright again, Draco doesn’t move away immediately, his hands steadying Harry on his broom, one on his hip, the other around his shoulders, and his face so close still their noses almost touch. Harry’s eyes cross as he tries to focus on Draco’s nose, and Draco laughs softly. It makes his eyes wrinkle slightly at the corners and stretches his pink mouth. 

Harry thinks the crowd is screaming around them, but the noise is muffled and distant compared to Draco’s voice:

“Dinner after the game tonight? Winner chooses, loser pays?”

Harry hears both the challenge in his voice and reads the question in his eyes and thus responds to both when he promises: “It’s a date.”

Then he spins away, already plotting where to take Draco when the whistle sounds to signal the start of the game. Cheap muggle fare would be hilarious, but then again, seeing one of those pretentious waiters in the expensive restaurants that always look at Harry as if he’s nothing more than a spot of dirt underneath their shoes being put in their place by Draco’s sharp tongue would be very satisfying, too.

Either way, if he plays this right, they’ll get not just the front page but the centre spread in at least the Prophet and Witch Weekly, perhaps the Quibbler, too, if Luna hasn’t found any new species this week. Ginny will be so mad.

But first, he needs to catch the snitch, so he can win this game.

After all, he’s got a date. 

[itchy-nissan-blog]

Nike's new 'League of Legends' range includes particular Jordans

Nike is back with a new line of garments celebrating skilled League of Legends. The latitude includes 4 brand-new jackets that might be put on with the help of the groups representing China on the Globe Championship later on this month: preferable Esports, JD Pc Gaming, Suning and LGD. Nike took a comparable strategy last 12 months, providing eventual Globe Champion FunPlus Phoenix Metro, Royal not ever before give up and also Invictus Gaming brand-new attires to complete know the 2019 match. All 16 teams in China's residential LPL (League of Legends pro Organization) have been then offered similar t-shirts to play in all through the 2020 springtime and summer season time divides. It's likely, thus, that Nike will do the equal and break down brand-new jerseys to the different LPL teams earlier than the 2021 period begins.

The redesigned shirts look drastically varied to those introduced remaining year, with centrally-aligned team symbols and also a gold edition of the LPL logo design within the behind right-hand corner. in action to an announcement, they all make use of Nike's Dri-healthy experience as well as have a relaxed waist layout so gamers do not think confined throughout crucial video clip games. The 4 groups will furthermore participate in the realm Champion putting on particular 'Conquest' jackets impressed through the color pattern of the LPL as well as every team's certain individual jackets and branding. The inner also has the motto "All We fight For," which has actually featured prominently in LPL marketing videos this one year.

Nike is matching its team attires with a League of Legends edition of the Jordan 1 excessive Zoom Air CMFT tennis shoe. It's supposedly inspired using the location Championship prize, with a reflective material that shows up diverse at midnight and also beneath vibrant lights. fans of the established MOBA video online video game will additionally observe a reference to the Summoner's Break map on the proper shoe's tongue. If Jordans aren't your design, the enterprise has created a wider 'great online video game' latitude that covers multiple Nike sneakers (Air Max ninety, Sports jacket Mid 77, Air drive 1 Low, Air drive 1 hey there, Air Max 270 React, Air Max 2X and Joyride twin Run 2), hoodies, coats as well as tees.

Nike The business's task goes beyond LPL teams and enthusiasts. Nike partnered with SKT T1, the Korean Organization of Legends group with superstar midland Lee "Faker" Sang-hyeok, previously this yr. It likewise teamed up with Fnatic, which possesses absolutely among Europe's largest Organization of Legends teams, on a little selection understood as Fnatic manage utmost month. Puma, meanwhile, has actually teamed up with North American team Cloud 9, as well as Umbro has historically made jerseys for Schalke's Organization of Legends team. On the other hand, esports companies comparable to 100 Thieves, which competes in distinctive games consisting of Organization of Legends, are making their very own jackets in a proposal to establish themselves as the gaming matching of Nike or Supreme.

All things encouraged using Engadget are picked with the aid of our editorial team, independent of our guardian firm. a few of our reviews include affiliate hyperlinks. in situation you buy whatever by means of one of these web links, we can also earn an affiliate commission.

Why a former Air Jordan design director left his job to guide the charge for Black representation throughout the sneaker trade

D'Wayne Edwards is one among a handful of Black designers that created a hit occupation in the tennis shoe industry.

He functioned as Nike's footwear layout director in between 2001 and also 2011, the place he made sneakers for the Air Jordan maker.

Now, Edwards is main the price for extra Black image in the tennis shoe sector, using his job since the founding daddy of style academy Pensole and as a frontrunner for The African American tennis shoes online forum (AAFF), which addresses as well as solves variety problems in the container.

" it's our work to tear the rattling door down," Edwards observed of the organisation's boundaries to entrance for Black americans. "and ensure it never shuts again."

inquire from organisation Insider's homepage for better records.

D'Wayne Edwards is called one of one of the most a lot more significant tennis shoe developers round. he is in addition definitely one of just a handful of Black individuals that managed to find primary success as an artistic in the trade.

In an occupation extending 3 years, Edwards launched his individual business, SITY, as well as accomplished a 10-12 months stint as Nike's footwear style supervisor, the area he created for the Air Jordan producer. hence much, Edwards has developed over 500 patterns for athletes like Derek Jeter, Carmelo Anthony, as well as Michael Jordan.

but despite every one of his success, Edwards described he really felt love it wasn't enough.

" i recognized there came to be just an extra beneficial purpose for my existence during this market than merely to style shoes for professional athletes," he kept in mind, explaining his resolution to stop working as a full-time developer in 2010 as well as begin Pensole, a style academy that encourages the next wave of young tennis shoes designers on their direction into the profession.

because its starting, Pensole has actually placed above 475 previous graduates at brands equivalent to Nike, below Armour, and Adidas.

Shoe developer D'Wayne Edwards shows up to the celebration for Jordan producer's launch of the Air Jordan XX2 footwear at the MGM Grand Pavillion Outdoor Tents inside the MGM Grand inn/on line casino site on February sixteen, 2007 in Las Vegas, Nevada. Ethan Miller/Getty pictures

nevertheless past nurturing budding designers, Edwards has additionally introduced right into yet another objective to fix what he sees as an overarching concern within the market.

As nationwide attention changes to discussions round variety as well as addition, Edwards is teaming up with sportswear and also tennis shoe profession employees and also graduates in actively dealing with for profession during the African American tennis shoes discussion board (AAFF). This business functions to deal with as well as resolve variety factors to consider within the footwear sector. The discussion board held its second assembly on June 19, or Juneteenth, where Black masters and also service employee's almost stated and took inventory of the state of variety and possibility for Black people within the box.

In explaining his motivation to circulate right into a greater protestor trajectory, Edwards defined feeling satisfied as a clothier, notwithstanding "insufficient as a Black guy and also as somebody."

As such, Edwards has actually discovered the means to utilize his journey to produce additional chances for various unique prospects. he is doing so in his function at Pensole as wisely, with campaigns like the Leaders Emerge After course (LEAD) by means of Design software program, which helps nurture students of colour on their training course in resistance t a profession within the profession by way of a collaboration with generally black faculties and also universities (HBCUs).

"today, most of us be mindful of there is no more that a number of us within the sector," Edwards observed, keeping in mind that possibly the many discussion board's dreams is to get an appropriate census of Black individuals within each major organisation to entirely remember the inconsistency within the trade. The Nike alumnus estimated that there are feasible below 200 black designers amongst loads in the shoes sector right now.

The tennis shoe area is basically regarded intrinsically certain to Black subculture. but also for some industry americans, this social affect is never ever watched past outside messaging or campaigns. as a circumstances, ad campaign and star collaborations from Adidas and Nike are normal to plainly particular artists as well as athletes of shade, equal to Beyonce, Kanye West, and LeBron James.

"We go to all times capacity, we're by no means the brains in the back of companies, we're never a component of the business structure and also the preparation, the production," Edwards noted. "currently we have been completely shut out of these areas."

After recruitment and also retention, occupation growth is just one of the best issues for Black staff members within the shoes as well as athletic-put on business, described Darla Pires DeGrace, a diversity, fairness, and inclusion planner. Pires DeGrace is furthermore a previous employer for Reebok and also a participant of AAFF. past the office, lobbyists claim there is still function to be completed in various other sectors of the shoes profession, like at retail stores, to assist different Black individuals within the field.

Some changes are currently in position. producers like Adidas, Nike, as well as listed below Armour have actually all recounted enterprise-huge difficulties with inclusion and variety. When it comes to Edwards, his position as an online forum leader enables him to fire up crucial conversations with significant tennis shoes producers concerning variety and incorporation. In Foot Storage locker's most fresh wage name, Chief Executive Officer and chairman Richard Johnson introduced the organisation's proceeded partnership with Edwards, which includes funding training as well as mentorship classes for Black creatives.

"When it becomes component of the manner they do company, then it genuinely is if you take place to'll have sustainable lengthy-term have an effect on," Edwards said. "If or not it's just slicing a take a look at, that simply offers the instant objective."

Air Jordan 5 "Raging Bull" Returns subsequent year: particulars

if you've been round tennis shoes for a really lengthy time, you then most likely remember the Air Jordan 5 "Raging Bull" that was introduced over one decade earlier currently. It changed right into a type of colorways that instantaneously thrilled americans upon its unlock many thanks to the vibrant purple suede that graced the top. just viewing on the colorway, you may notify that it absolutely accepted the aesthetics of the Chicago Bulls and also the spirit of the staff.

For 10 years now, fans were asking for a second possibility at copping the shoe and also according to @zsneakerheadz, it really feels like that day is coming sooner in preference to later on. of course, it really is appropriate, the "Flaming Bull" colorway mosts likely to be making a big comeback in 2021 as well as it looks like a Springtime or summer season time liberate is likely. this is significant info for followers of the colorway that overlooked out the primary time around. Jordan brand has been commemorating the thirtieth wedding anniversary of the footwear in 2020 and heading right into following yr, it be clear Jumpman has no strategies to reduce.

Of direction, none of this has been verified by utilizing Jordan brand so stay tuned for updates as we can see to it to deliver you all the most recent advise.

https://tee-bee.net/free-shipping-off-white-air-jordan-yeezy-350-air-mag-sneaker-key-chain-p8408.html

[prettywordsyouleft]

Hasty Assumptions

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: university au / cliché fluff like normal

Warnings: none

Word count: 2546

You stopped when you noticed someone was sitting at your favourite table in the restaurant you often came to escape the life you were living. You were a student and trying to start your career from inside constant textbooks was gruelling.

It was by chance that you had found this little place, not only did it serve great food for a decent price, the environment was always healing for you. At first, you only visited now and then, but as your degree progressed into the harder topics, you would come here almost every week. You liked that it was so far removed from everything you knew.

At least, that was until today.

The man sitting at the table was someone you had seen around on campus and although you felt like a deer in headlights seeing him here, you quickly realised he wouldn’t know who you were. All the same, you dove into the closest empty table and watched him curiously.

Park Jinyoung was the star of the university basketball team. He had an unbeatable match score and had carried the team to the championship finals two years in a row now. He was practically a campus celebrity. Everyone knew who he was. Girls fell at his feet due to his good looks and athletic body, and guys all wanted him to be their friend. Your own opinion was that he was someone far out of your circle of friends, given you had never once seen him with his nose in a textbook. He had no doubt gotten into school with a sports scholarship and was getting by in his degree just so he could play each week. At least, that was your spin on things. You hadn’t actually ever spoken to him. Not that you needed to. Your worlds were different and you couldn’t fathom being able to have a conversation with him for long.

What bothered you the most was why he was here. This was your place, your sanctuary away from everything school related. You even went as far as to leave your assignments in your bag every time you came, making this a complete study-free zone. Jinyoung being here tonight changed things. You didn’t understand why it irked you so much, and when you realised the waiter was at your side, it was too late for you to pull your gaze away and up to the staff member in time.

“Oh Y/N, your table has been taken today!” he mentioned as he held his pad up and you nodded distractedly, your face burning from being caught out. Jinyoung had seen you staring at him, and you could feel him watching you still.

You should have left right there and then. Instead, you placed your order shakily, hoping Jinyoung would look away soon. When the waiter went off to the kitchen, you took a deep breath and casually looked around you, Jinyoung smirking when your eyes connected with his. You tore your gaze away, continuing to scan the restaurant until you stared at the piano up on the small stage. It comforted you to look at the grand instrument, the sound of the piano bringing you in all those years ago. You wouldn’t leave. This was your haven. You would just simply forget he was there.

Except you couldn’t.

You were far too curious, and as you waited for your meal to arrive, you watched him carefully, wondering who he was waiting for. He clearly kept looking at the door and then at his phone. Was he here on a date? It would make sense, considering this didn’t seem like a place he would normally frequent. Just as you were heavily invested in trying to decipher why Jinyoung was here, he got up, heading towards the stage. He spoke to one of the staff members, who nodded and gestured him up.

The restaurant sometimes held talent shows or guest performers. But often, they allowed the punters to use the piano, and you had sometimes played melancholy songs when there was hardly anyone around. The restaurant was semi-busy tonight and you watched Jinyoung earnestly, wondering why he had approached the instrument in the first place.

It didn’t take you long to learn why. Your mouth fell ajar at the sounds exuding from the grand piano. His hands were fluid with the keys and he moved as the music flowed out around the restaurant. When the song finished, the applause was loud and Jinyoung grinned sheepishly before jumping down off stage.

And instead of going back to his table, he came to yours. “You seem surprised.”

So much that you couldn’t answer him and merely stared at him dumbfounded.

“Didn’t think a meathead like me could have a sensitive side huh? I called your assumptions a mile away. That’s why I did that just now.”

You blinked rapidly, unsure if you were actually conversing with Park Jinyoung or if your mind was fabricating it. He sighed heavily as he shook his head. It was enough to pull you out of your stupor. “You’re talking to me, right?”

“Is there anyone else sitting at this table?” he asked and you shook your head meekly. Sticking out his hand at you, he smiled. Had it always been so genuine up close? He always seemed over-confident on campus, a smug air following him everywhere he went. Jinyoung waggled his hand a little since you hadn’t grabbed it yet. You gingerly slipped your hand into his waiting one and shook it. “I’m certain you know who I am, and surprisingly, I know you too, Y/N.”

“Wait, what?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Want to join me over at my table? I know it’s the one you prefer in this restaurant.”

“How do you know that?” you asked distractedly, getting up and moving over to the one he had been sitting at before his performance. You were highly confused. Never in a million years would you ever expect Jinyoung to know your name, let alone invite you to eat with him.

“I know more than you think. Unlike you, I do my research.”

“Hey!” you cried and his eyes crinkled up in delight at your reaction. He was watching you avidly and it made you falter a little. “I uh, I know things.”

“What, that I’m the captain of the basketball team who does well on the court and is followed about by a trail of girls wanting me and guys trying to befriend me, is that it? Ah, you probably think I aspire to be an athlete for my career and that I got into school on a sports scholarship. Heck, I probably can’t even read a book, right?”

You huffed heavily, unsure if his mocking tone annoyed you more or the fact that he was entirely correct about your hasty assumptions. Jinyoung grinned and picked up his glass of water. You diverted your gaze, feeling too small in his company. “It’s not like someone like me needs to know enough about you.”

“Why not? What is someone like you, Y/N? Enlighten me as to how we live so vastly different from each other.”

“But we do,” you refuted and Jinyoung cocked his head to the side, ushering you to continue with his hand. You sat up in your chair and tried your best to sound somewhat convinced. “You’re someone who is very popular, I am not one with many friends unless you count the books I read.”

“Well, you do seem to live in them so much that you’re oblivious to everything around you,” he agreed and before you could try to understand his sentence, he pressed you to continue.

“You’re into sports; I’m so clumsy my gym teacher told me it would be best if I skipped his classes in high school. I’ve never seen you study, and you’re at every party each weekend.”

Jinyoung waited a moment for more, but you had finished. You felt foolish; you really didn’t know how to make this argument sound valid anymore. Jinyoung sighed disappointedly. “Is that it?”

“As I said, I don’t know much about you.”

“You seem to know a lot about what’s said about me, but you know nothing about the real me. I’m unsure if I should tell you. I’m hurt, Y/N. I know so much about you, and you think so little of me.”

You blushed deeply.

“Yet, I’m a bit masochistic. I want you to know more about me.”

“Why?” you asked, looking up at him suddenly. Jinyoung blinked at your attention and you realised you had thrown him off. It made you feel at ease. All you had done was fail poorly in his eyes so far.

“Because I know so much about you, it’s only fair I tell you more about me, right?” he offered and you nodded softly. Your meals arrived then and you thanked the waiter for bringing yours over to this table. You barely focused on your food, too intrigued by the impending tale Jinyoung was preparing to tell you.

“I’m studying the same degree as you, business administration. My dream is to run a company one day. I only got into basketball in high school because my best friend convinced me it would look good on my applications for university. I didn’t know that using my calculating mind would benefit me in a game of sports, but really, basketball is just like the business field. You dodge opponents and through cleverly thought out strategies, you reach your end goal.”

“I’ve never heard basketball explained like that before,” you admitted and Jinyoung grinned. “Now I actually think it makes sense. It just seems like pointless running up and down a court with a ball and other sweaty humans.”

“It’s good team building practice. I know I could easily run a department in an office setting now because of basketball.”

You nodded slowly. “That does sound like a good way to build up those skills.”

“Better than a book,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I was offered a sports scholarship, but to be honest, I wanted to make it on my own merit. I enrolled in business and joined the basketball team just to fill in time. I’ll admit there are some perks, though I never wanted all the attention either. It makes it hard to just sit down in the library to study, you know? The buzzing of people talking and following me around is too much.”

“Yet, you’re too nice to fully tell them to go away?” you suggested and Jinyoung nodded. “I always thought you liked it.”

“It’s not all bad. But I envy you. Actually, it’s because I envy you so much that I started to notice you.”

You blinked. “Why would you envy me? I am not someone worth that kind of emotion!”

“No? You live your own life without having to worry about interruptions. You study when you like to, you get chosen for team presentations due to merit, and not because you’re a campus hero. You don’t feel obligated to go to the shitty parties every weekend with the same faces and the same end result. You get to escape school life by coming to this place here often too. Do you know how hard it was for me to find this place? I mean, I knew you came here, but I had to make some fake plans to deter anyone following me here today.”

“Is that why you kept looking at the door? I thought you were waiting for-”

“For a date?” he cut in, smiling to himself because he seemed to read your thoughts too easily. You huffed again and he shook his head. “Date who? Everyone who follows me around expects me to not care enough about my grades or wants to get physical immediately. They’re only after their fifteen minutes of fame with me.”

You hadn’t ever felt sorry for Jinyoung before. But the more he spoke, the more you realised just how complex his life was. You could tell that he didn’t need your sympathy though, he had a strong outlook in life and how he’d get to his success. It made you frown when you realised something. “So then, why are you here with me tonight?”

“Ah,” he said simply, playing with his food a little. He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was hoping I could win you over.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t this a nice date? I played good music for you, and you’re not sitting here eating alone for a change. You actually know I exist more than being a poster boy now too.”

“Are you asking me out?” you concluded and Jinyoung looked at you before nodding once. You gasped loudly and his eyes widened when the couple nearby glanced in your direction. But you were too lost in the moment. “Really?!”

“Y/N, calm down.”

“But after everything I thought, and how foolish I must seem to you, why would you even want to prove something to me?! You said I’m oblivious to you, and I guess I am. I had no idea about any of this.”

“Because you had no need to know. I didn’t appear in your world. You had put me in a place you couldn’t touch, and it took me coming to you like this for you to even realise I’ve been in your life for a long time now.”

“You’re only making me feel worse,” you muttered and Jinyoung smiled soothingly. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t. You’re not foolish to me at all. If you were, I wouldn’t have gone to all these efforts for you to see the real me, remember.”

You stared at him for a moment, searching for something to grasp onto. Everything he had said made sense, but it still felt too surreal. Even with him appearing more relatable in your eyes now, he was still someone everyone looked up to at school. And you were no one in comparison.

Jinyoung reached over for your hand and gripped it gently. “You are someone to me.”

“You’re able to read minds?” you asked cautiously and he laughed heartily, nodding his head in all seriousness when his amusement left him.

“Only yours.”

“So what do you think I’m going to say?” you wondered and he Jinyoung thought for a moment.

“That you don’t believe even after this really nice dinner with me that you should think about dating me. But that’s where you’re wrong. You really should date me.”

“Oh, how come?”

He leaned closer to you and you instinctively moved in too, wondering what secret he would utter next. Instead, he kissed you quickly, stunning you. “Because I’ll make sure you realise that life outside of those books you’ve been burying yourself in is actually so much better.”

“Is that so?” you managed, the flare-up of colour still invading your cheeks despite your cocky statement. “I’m not so sure.”

“Of course, you’re not. But you’re going to let me show you, right?”

When you came to the restaurant earlier on, you hadn’t expected such a turn of events. Already in one evening, Jinyoung had produced immense thought, dishevelment and excitement within you.

You couldn’t wait to see just what else was in store for you.

_________________

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[cottonblush]

puppy love | nyt

❧ word count: 5,916

❧ genre: fluff with some floff on the side

❧ notes: this is the first full length oneshot that i’ve written that i’m actually proud of?? i’ve written anime oneshots and stuff but they were always subpar? but this is like my first ever masterpiece so i really hope you guys like it:) also tysm @joynct​ and shira for helping me choose which member to base it on. i think the reason it flows so well is because yuta just fits this storyline so perfectly?? btw there’s a hint of embarrassed!yuta at the end oomf!! also p.s: mary, the messy bun is for you:)) p.p.s: i’m renaming this and idk what to use for initials because like Nakamoto YuTa or Joong YooTae

It was a warm August afternoon and Yuta had just moved into his apartment off campus for his second year of college. He hung up the last of his hoodies in and placed it in his closet before taking a few steps back to admire his handiwork. He released an accomplished grunt before flopping down on his mattress. The feeling of tiredness seeped into Yuta's bones as his eyes slowly closed and his mind drifted closer and closer to sleep. Sunlight streamed in through his windows and cascaded down onto his fair skin, creating a blanket of warmth. The soft chirping of the birds outside was like Yuta's own natural noise machine. Ah, Yuta thought to himself, I'm living the life-

A series of knocks pierced through the tranquil silence, alerting Yuta that someone was at his front door. "I'm coming," he groaned out, even though he knew whoever was on the other side of the door would never hear him. He sauntered over to the entrance and grasped the cool metal of the doorknob, yanking the large oak door open. He was met with the sight of a young lady who seemed to be around the same age as him. You had a fairly large duffel bag looped around each arm and a box in your hands. 

Offering a kind smile, you introduced yourself, "Hey, I'm Y/n! Looks like we'll be roommates." You shuffled forward a bit and Yuta backed up in response, allowing you to get acquainted with the apartment.

"I'll grab some of your stuff," Yuta offered, already moving to pick up some of the boxes that were sitting idly in the hallway. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Your room is the one on the right. Mine is on the left. Maybe once you're done unpacking we can introduce ourselves a bit more." In response, Yuta heard a soft giggle and a 'sure.'

Not long after all of the boxes had been transferred to your room and Yuta settled down on the couch in the living room, he heard a door open. He glanced up in time to see you lethargically walk over and plop yourself down on a chair, releasing a loud sigh.

"Done unpacking?" he asked, mirth swimming in his deep orbs they swept over your tired form. He definitely related.

"Not even close. I'll get to it tomorrow or something. I just have so much stuff. I may or may not have packed way too much stuff," you sheepishly responded.

"Ah, so you must be a freshman."

"Jeez. Is it that obvious?"

"I mean, kinda? All freshmen tend to overestimate how much they need. Plus, all your boxes say 'college stuff' so I knew you weren't some random girl."

The two laughed and the atmosphere settled into a comfortable silence. Yuta grabbed his laptop from its resting place on the coffee table, enjoying the feeling of the cool exterior against the warm pads of his fingertips. Within a minute, the only sounds that filled the room were the dull sound of the TV playing and the soft clicks of a keyboard as he typed up a storm. For a split second, his eyes flickered away from the bright screen in front of him and towards the small chair on the other side of the coffee table. He expected to find his new roommate scrolling through her phone like she had been moments before. However, he saw your legs pulled up into your chest and your head nestled snuggly between your knees. Although your eyelids weren't completely closed, they seemed to drag down, wanting to pull you into the land of dreams. The slight parting of your lips and the consistent rise and fall of your chest indicated that you were not far from it.

Yuta felt for you. Just a year ago, he was in your exact position. He knew you had to be feeling quite nervous being in a new environment alone for the first time. A small smile fell on the young man's lips as he slowly and quietly got up from his position on the couch. He turned off the TV and tiptoed over to his room so he could grab a blanket. Once he returned, he gently draped the fluffy fabric over your shoulders and drew the blinds shut, preventing the harsh rays of the sun from falling onto her face. He picked up his laptop and headed back to his room, shutting the door behind him so that he could play some music without disturbing his new roommate.

Time passed in a flash and before he knew it, Yuta looked out of his window and saw the sun already setting along the horizon. His stomach grumbled sonorously, causing him to look towards the clock resting on his bedside table. His eyebrows shot up as he saw that the small digital clock read 7 o'clock. "Man, I can't believe I got so distracted. I missed dinner time," Yuta grumbled as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and trudged towards the kitchen. In his peripheral vision, he noticed you slowly stretching your limbs, arching your back, and releasing a content sigh before swaddling yourself back into his snuggly blue blanket. You reminded him of a kitten basking in the sun and as someone who could morph into a dog, he thought that thought might turn him off, but Yuta found it somewhat adorable.

It was a shame that he had to wake her from her catnap, but he figured you should get something to eat too. He shook her shoulder a bit, watching as your eyelashes fluttered before they revealed her deep irises. "You should eat something," Yuta suggested. As he walked towards the light switches to illuminate the room, he heard you mumble in a soft voice, "Hmm.. This blanket smells really nice. Smells like home."

At the time, Yuta didn't know why there was a falter in his step. He found that the room had become weirdly warm and even went to the thermostat to check if something was amiss. And as he grabbed a pot from one of the cabinets and saw his distorted reflection in the bottom of the stainless steel vessel, he had no idea why his cheeks were so rosy. It wasn't like Yuta found the girl cute or anything. Nope. Definitely not something as absurd as that.

Ignoring the tingling feeling that passed through his body, Yuta put the pot on the stove along with some water and got out a packet of ramen noodles. "You eat dinner really early, dude," came your voice from the living room.

Letting out a chortle, Yuta didn't hesitate to retort, "It's not healthy to eat late, y'know?"

You walked around the small island in the middle of the kitchen in order to see what was being prepared, a teasing smile appearing on your face when you saw a familiar ramen noodle package and some shredded cheese. Not one to back down, you said, "Cheesy ramen isn't very healthy no matter what time, is it?"

"Touché."

Yuta was becoming increasingly annoyed with himself. He'd only known you for a little more than half a day, and yet everything you did brought a warm feeling to his chest. He mentally berated himself, You can't have a crush on this girl, Yuta! Pull yourself together. It hasn't even been a day.

About two months into the first semester of his sophomore year, Yuta acknowledged that he had just been in denial. It took him a while but he had come to terms with the fact that he liked his roommate. After all, not many girls could have him feeling so happy-go-lucky with just a simple smile. However, much to his dismay, you appeared to have no interest in him at all. Maybe, he figured, I'm just not her type.

Now, any rational guy would probably give up on the girl, fearing the possibility of an awkward atmosphere if their relationship were to go awry. Especially if this girl was living with them for the rest of the school year. However, Yuta was far from normal. He'd always been. He began thinking of what kind of guys you might've liked. He snapped his fingers as a great thought hit him. He'd seen a soccer jersey sitting on the top of her laundry basket. If you were athletic, maybe you liked guys who were athletic too.

Yuta was definitely not what you would consider athletic. He hadn't got real exercise since P.E. in his last year of high school. It'd been more than a year and all he'd done was focus on studying and playing video games. He'd turned into a pile of skinny, lanky limbs. But one thing was for sure. Yuta was determined. Determined to get you to notice him. He started going to the gym regularly. He ate healthier and even joined a Facebook group for guys who wanted to get in shape. There, he met one of his closest friends, Taeil. He learned that Taeil was also a sophomore at the same school and eventually, the two started going to the gym together. He kept up his routine, always making time to study, of course. At the start of the second semester, he'd already developed definition in his biceps and his figure had become much sturdier.

Riding on a wave of confidence from his new and improved self, Yuta ended up trying out for the soccer team (a.k.a the university's pride and joy) along with his new friend. The two ended up making the team, though they were far from being a starting player. It was on the cold, thin benches that the duo of Yuta and Taeil became a trio. They met another bench warmer who was a transfer student from China named Sicheng and the three instantly hit it off.

Eventually, Yuta opened up to his two best friends about his predicament. They talked for hours one day and by the end of the evening, Sicheng had planted a seed of a thought in Yuta's head that you would notice him if he was a starting player. Once again, Yuta began his fitness grind, practicing drills and spending much more time on the field than some of the team's star players. It turned out that Yuta and Sicheng were natural soccer players, Yuta excelling in speed and agility, and Sicheng pulling of crazy trick shots with his insane flexibility and previous martial arts knowledge. They became starters in no time. Taeil, on the other hand, decided that soccer wasn't his thing and decided that next year, he would take up tennis instead.

With the joy of making it to the starting team also came increased popularity. The trio got invited to parties almost every weekend and even hosted a couple of their own. Yuta truly did enjoy this faster paced lifestyle. It felt nice to be finally noticed. It felt nice to be considered a 'prodigy' or a 'genius.' However, when he was at all those rumbustious parties surrounded by girls that he would've considered to be way out of his league just months before, a part of his mind always drifted back to you. He'd started this all to impress you, but what good would it do if he was spending all his time at parties instead of at home with you.

Unfortunately, you still didn't seem to be showing any interest in Yuta and with a battered ego, he was easily swept away into the exuberant life of partying and popularity. Of course, you two were still friends. You never drifted away, but you never got close either. It was as if the two of you were like the same poles of two magnets. Yuta wanted to get closer to you, yet some force seemed to be keeping you two apart.

The rest of the year passed by within a blink of an eye, and before he knew it, Yuta was spending on summer vacation again, basking in the cool air of his air conditioner as the blazing sun heated up the whole town. It was around the middle of June when Yuta got a text from you. Honestly, he hadn't been thinking of you as often and was starting to think that maybe his feelings were dying down. He didn't make as much of an effort to get in touch with you as he used to, so when got a text from you wondering if you two were planning on being roommates again for the next school year, Yuta was genuinely surprised. Just because he was surprised, it didn't mean he would turn down your offer. You two got along well and looked out for each other. Coincidentally, the week before, Taeil and Sicheng had let Yuta know that they would be living on campus together with one of Taeil's friends who was transferring that year. So if living with you meant he could escape the possibility of rooming with someone he didn't get along with, he'd gladly say yes.

And that's exactly what he did. He chose to call you to let you know, but he started to regret his decision when he heard you pick up and your cheerful voice sing into his ear.

"Hi, Yuta! What's up?"

That's weird, Yuta thought. You almost sounded… nervous?

"Hey. I got your text. Just wanted to let you know I'm down to room with you again. Did you want to find a place in the same building?"

"Haha, yeah. That'd be convenient. And this year, my parents are coming with me to help unpack! Isn't that cool? I know you moved out before me last year, but this year, you'll finally get to meet them!"

"Oh yeah, um, that's exciting?"

If anyone asked, Yuta would definitely deny the fact that his voice cracked at the thought of getting to meet your parents. Ok, so maybe he hadn't completely gotten over you. But it was a work in progress, at least.

"You must be Yuta," a man with a familiar jovial tone said to our protagonist as he approached the new apartment that he decided to rent with you. Yuta offered a signature smile and nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Sir. It's been a pleasure living with Y/n and I'm glad you've allowed me to do so again this year."

Your father let out a hearty chuckle in response, "Oh, son, there's no need to be so formal! Y/n has only said good things of you. You can consider yourself part of the family!"

The two men were shaking hands with each other when they were interrupted by your voice shouting in a shrill tone, "Yuta, oh my gosh! Your suitcase!"

Instead of turning to the sound of your voice like his body automatically wanted to do, he forced himself to look back to where he came from. His eyes widened as he saw the elevator closing and descending, taking his suitcase along with it. You ran up to him and placed a hand on his arm, hunched over laughing. Once you managed to regain your breath, you said to him, "Yuta, the way you manage to be such an airhead sometimes while maintaining a perfect GPA and being on the soccer team still amazes me to this day. You have a true gift, I swear!"

Yuta's face burned with embarrassment, but he couldn't help laugh along with you as you ran down the hall and repeatedly hit the button that would bring the elevator back up. This was definitely a great way to make a good impression on the parents of the girl he'd had a crush on for almost all of his sophomore year. He didn't let it get to him, though. He missed it; he missed being around you.

He quickly got all of his things unpacked with the help of you and your family. As the sun set and the stars made themselves apparent, you said waved goodbye to your family and shut the door behind you, releasing a tired and somewhat melancholic sigh. "I miss them already," you muttered dejectedly, "I can't believe I have to wait until Thanksgiving to see them again."

Yuta, wanting to put an end to the sad atmosphere, cheerily assured you, "Well, Y/n, I guess the two of us just have two have a super fun year so that the time flies by!" He finished by flashing his pearly whites and doing a cute little eye smile for extra effect.

"R-Right," you said, as if surprised by his presence. Without warning, you quickly scurried off into your room and shut the door behind you.

It was Yuta's turn to sigh as he pointedly told himself, "Wow, Yuta. You can’t even cheer her up. What kind of roommate and friend are you?"

Luckily, it seemed your mood had turned quickly and by the end of the hour, you had come out of your room and situated yourself on the couch with a book, humming a soft tune as you became enraptured by the story. Yuta felt his shoulders finally relax as he saw that your spirits had brightened. Usually, he'd go sit right next to you and offer to watch a movie, but that night, he decided to give you some space and turned in early, bidding you a fleeting 'goodnight.'

By the time school rolled around, the dynamic between you two had been built back up and you eased into the school year like you'd been doing it your whole life. It was all going so smooth until one afternoon a bit before Yuta's 4 o'clock analytic chemistry class. He and you were sitting on the couch, you flipping through channels while he did some last minute reading. All of a sudden you said something that made Yuta pause.

"I have a date tonight. Don't wait up, okay?"

When Yuta paused, he quite literally paused everything. His hand stopped mid page flip, his brain went blank, and he was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a bit. Clearing his throat and trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible, he said, "Oh, that's cool, I guess."

He thought to himself, Do not get jealous, Yuta. You are NOT jealous of someone you don't even know. Y/n hasn't paid you any attention in the past year. Why would she start now?

But once you jumped up excitedly and started rambling on about the outfit you were going to wear, he slowly felt a green eyed monster growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, that's right! I've got to get some makeup for my date tonight," you informed. "I should be back in about an hour so I guess I'll see you when I see you."

As you grabbed your wallet and shut the door behind you, Yuta's vision went white. The thought of you on a date with someone else made him uncomfortable. The thought of someone else with their arms around you made him absolutely furious. He knew he didn’t own you or anything, but the thought of you with someone else just felt so wrong that he truly believed it to be. He had to do something. He felt his body do something he hadn't done in a very long time. He felt his body shrink in size as he got on all fours, his limbs becoming furry and his nose extending out into a snout. Within a matter of seconds, he had successfully shapeshifted into a medium sized Shiba Inu and was already heading towards your bedroom. Pushing the door open with his head, he immediately spotted the aforementioned date outfit lying on your bed. Without giving it any thought, he grabbed it between his sharp teeth and pulled as hard as he could.

When Yuta finally came to, he realized he had just destroyed a perfectly good dress of yours and you would be livid if you found out. He panicked for a second before getting an idea. Morphing back into his human form, he opened the window in your bedroom and placed a couple pieces of torn fabric on the floor and on the windowsill, creating a trail. That way, it looked like some animal had gotten in and been the one to rip up your clothes.

Looking at the time on his watch, he realized he had to leave right away if he wanted to make it to class, so he grabbed his things and rushed out the door, slamming it behind him with a resonant thud.

Throughout his whole class, he couldn't focus on the teacher at all, his mind drifting toward what your reaction was going to be. He ended up having to ask one of his friends for a summary of the lesson after class and even then, every word he heard was muddled and his brain was fuzzy.

When he got to the front door of your shared apartment, Yuta didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps you ended up going on the date anyway. But when he opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of you sitting crisscross-apple-sauce on the couch shoveling ice cream into your mouth at an alarming rate and pouting all the while.

Trying to be as casual and unassuming as possible, he greeted you, "H-Hey, Y/n. What's up? How come you're not on your date?"

You pouted some more before turning to him with big doe eyes and whining, "Some bird or squirrel or whatever got into the apartment and ripped up my nice outfit. It was my only fancy outfit, too! I had to cancel. I didn't want to show up looking like a hobo. It was so last minute too. He's never gonna want to go out with me again!"

Yuta wanted to assure you that you'd look stunning even if you wore the ugliest, most garish outfit ever, but he forced those words down his throat.

"I'm sorry. How about we order some pizza and sushi and pig out," he said as he situated himself next to you and gave your back a comforting pat.

You let out a huff and leaned yourself on his side. Resting your head on his shoulder, you grumbled, "I guess… But right now I just want to watch a super badass murder mystery. Like Inspector Gadget."

Once again, Yuta wanted to mention that Inspector Gadget was not a homicide investigator, nor was he badass in any way, shape, or form, but he decided it just wasn’t the time. Also, he probably couldn't form proper sentences even if he tried. All he could think about was how soft your hair was as it tickled his cheek and the sensitive skin on his neck.

This little routine continued for quite a while. Whenever you had a date, your clothes or shoes would mysteriously get chewed up. And even when you prepared a backup outfit, that got ruined too. In all honesty, Yuta was pretty content with the way things were. It's not like you ever got mad about it. You were just disappointed that you couldn't get a date. But all good things in Yuta's life eventually came to an end. He knew this would never last.

He was relaxing with Taeil, Sicheng, and the newest addition to the group, Taeyong, in the quad and was lamenting for the thousandth time about how you still didn't notice him and how he was still not over you. Taeil disappointedly shook his head and remarked, "Bro, you're as whipped for her as a stiffened meringue."

Yuta furrowed his brows and said, "I thought you said you'd take up tennis, not cooking or baking or whatever."

Taeil seemed to think about it for a second before responding, "Yeah, I did say that. But Taeyong convinced me that cooking would be fun!"

Yuta's eyes drifted over to Taeyong's slightly guilty visage, letting out an amused chortle. He seemed to have the opposite reaction to Sicheng's. While Yuta's eyes danced with mirth, Sicheng groaned and rested his head in his hands. He pleaded, "Oh my god, Yuta. Please stop him. Please! I thought living with two chefs would be cool and I could leech off of them and their good food, but all Taeil does is make food puns and Taeyong is too nice to tell him to stop."

"Ok, but why can't you tell Taeil to stop-"

"He literally won't listen. It's like I'm invisible or something. I've never been ignored by him before"

"Aww, Sicheng! Are you jealous?"

Taeyong chose that time to cut in to the conversation, "Speaking of jealous, I know you all are gonna be super jealous of me! I have a date tonight with a really cute girl. And she's like super smart too!"

Yuta really didn't care much about where the conversation was headed. Sure, he was happy for Taeyong, but he was really down in the dumps about you. He almost zoned out until Taeyong suddenly sprang up and pointed to somewhere behind him and yelped, "Look! There she is! Her name's Y/n and hopefully you guys will meet her soon when I can introduce her as my girlfriend. Anyway, I'll see you guys later. I'm gonna go see if she'll let me walk her to her next class!"

And with that, Taeyong scurried off into the distance looking happy as could be. Contrastingly, Yuta blanched when he heard your name. He turned around just to check if perhaps Taeyong was talking about a different Y/n, but was greeted by the sight of Taeyong catching up to you and grabbing your free hand that wasn't grasping a backpack strap, sending you a shy smile. Turning back around, Yuta slumped in his lawn chair and let out a dejected moan. Dragging his hands down his face, he sighed, "Of course. It had to be her."

Sicheng and Taeil offered looks of pity, both saying how there was no way Taeyong could've known and that if Yuta talked to Taeyong, he'd surely step down. But he couldn't. "I couldn't ask him to do that," he told his two friends. "She's free to choose whoever she wants and date whoever she wants to date. I don't own her. No one does."

His friends nodded in understanding and offered him a somewhat awkward goodbye as they watched him collect his stuff and head back to your shared apartment that was not too far from campus. As he trudged back, Yuta thought to himself, You're such a hypocrite. It's not like you've been giving her much of a choice lately.

Yuta was sipping on a protein shake and watching another episode of Inspector Gadget (you'd got him hooked onto the show, but he'd never admit it to you) when your bedroom door opened. You stepped out wearing an adorable yellow off the shoulder top and a pair of dark wash jeans that happened to make your butt look better than Yuta thought imaginable. Your hair was neatly parted and although it looked like you hadn't spent much time on it, each curl fell perfectly around your face. Your makeup was very light, but it was definitely there. One look at your lips and he could almost smell the strawberry lip balm that he was almost certain you were wearing. It was his favorite. All in all, it looked like this outfit was made for him. For the first time in his life, he was truly and totally breathless. The way you could be so effortless and make him feel the way he felt? It scared him. It scared him so much.

You walked to the door anxiously, as if waiting for something to happen. Usually, your sneakers would barely create any sound against the hardwood floors. But the whole apartment was silent, so each step you took seemed to echo tauntingly in Yuta's ears. His animalistic side urged him, pleaded him, to do something before it was too late.

So he did. For once, he was willing to take the risk. It took him all of his sophomore year and half of his junior year to realize that he was utterly, wholly in love with you. And the thought of you and Taeyong together was clawing at his heart so violently that he could barely breathe. Within three large strides, he was right behind you, grasping your hand as if you'd disappear if he let go.

"Y/n," he croaked. When you wouldn't look him in the eye, he gently grabbed your chin and tilted it towards him. For a second, he didn't know what to say. The tension between you and him was almost palpable. Your large doe eyes urged him to do something, to say something. But Yuta was frustrated. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to tell say 'I love you' when he knew you felt nothing for him in return. Delicately, he whispered, "Oh my god, how can you be so oblivious?" Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion and  you were about to respond when he dropped your hand, leaving it to grasp at the air where he stood as he stormed off to his bedroom and shut himself in with a loud slam of the door.

"I'm stupid," Yuta said to himself as he laid on his bed in the darkness and stared at his ceiling, "I'm so stupid." He repeated it over and over again, almost like a mantra, for who knows how long when there was a soft knock at his door.

"Yuta," your voice called out with uncertainty. "Are you still in there?" The door cracked open and warm yellow light slowly poured into his room. He squinted a bit, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness as he sat himself up and turned to face you.

He took in your appearance, your baggy sweatpants, your hair tied up in a messy bun, your makeup wiped away but that goddamn strawberry lip balm ever present on your soft petals. "What are you doing here?" he questioned.

She let out a tired chuckle and approached him, sitting in front of him on the edge of his bed. "I'm here for you, dumbass. I don't know if you could tell or not, but I've liked you for a while. Since summer, I think."

"W-What? Are you serious? What about Taeyong?"

"I told him it wouldn't work out because I was already interested in you. It was kinda weird. When I told him I'm your roommate, he just looked super guilty for some reason."

Yuta made a mental note to tell his friend how genuinely kind a person he was and maybe set him up with one of the many people who he knew had a crush on Taeyong. "Wow, bless him, honestly. I don't deserve him." You gave him a puzzled look, but he continued anyway, "What made you change your mind? You haven't really shown much interest in me at all."

"Well, it's kinda a long story. I mean, I've liked you since the beginning of summer. That's why I probably sounded so weird over the phone when I asked you to be my roommate again. But you got super popular and you didn't show me much interest either. So I kinda tried to push my feelings away. And then this guy asked me out on a date and it was like this golden opportunity. But my outfit got ruined. And all my date outfits kept on getting ruined."

Yuta gulped nervously and was about to interrupt, but you were on a roll, "And they just kept on getting ruined. But only the nice ones. I'm not dumb, so I did a little experimenting. I put nuts and treats in my closet to see if the animals would maybe eat those instead, but they only seemed to be interested in the clothes that I laid out. Step two, I laid out clothes on random nights when I didn't have dates too, but those never got chewed up. That was when I knew something was up. So I put a camera in my room and had one of my friends help me set up a live feed. And I caught this dog. This really cute Shiba Inu. I found the culprit. But I kept watching and it turned into you. And if I'm being honest, I was freaked out at first. But now I just think it's cool. Anyway, I knew it was you, but I didn't want to assume, so I waited for a sign. And tonight, you gave me one. So I took it and ran with it, I guess."

Yuta was feeling so many emotions in that moment. He was embarrassed, confused, and scared. But he was also overwhelmingly happy. However, in the midst of all the emotions, he still felt that he had to clear things up. "Hold on a second," he uttered. "I didn't show you any interest?! You really are oblivious, Y/n! I've liked you since you first moved in with me! The only reason I started working out and joined the soccer team was to impress you because I saw that stupid Lionel Messi jersey in your laundry basket one time. The entirety of my sophomore year of college was me trying to impress you. Oh my gosh, how am I in love with someone as dumb as you?"

"Hey! I'm not dumb. I just wasn't interested in dating during my freshman year and I- Wait. Did you say you love me?"

"No?"

"Yes. You totally did! I just heard you. Wow, guess I have blackmail against you now, don't I?"

You let out an obnoxiously loud laugh, your shoulders shaking and your eyes sparkling with joy. In that moment, you looked like an angel. Actually, screw that. You were the most beautiful thing in the whole universe. Better than any angel.

"I love you," Yuta said. "I love you, like a lot. And you don't have to say it back. I just want you to know that I love you and I think you're perfect." With that, he grabbed your shoulders and slowly brought you closer, placing a gentle, fleeting kiss on your forehead and then leaning back. But the reaction he got was not what he expected.

Your face was blank as you articulated, "That's it? That's all I get? You just professed your undying love for me and all I get is a frickin' forehead kiss?" Your voice rose with every word you spoke as you got closer and closer until only a few millimeters separated the two of you. Gathering up some courage, you placed your hands on Yuta's cheeks and pulled him in for a proper kiss.

Your lips fit perfectly into his and you wanted to stay like that forever, but a thought suddenly plagued your brain. You just had to ask, "Hey, Yuta? Will you ever let me see you transform in real life? Wait! Do you like to be pet and stuff! OHMYGOSH WAITWAITWAIT THAT'S LIKE SO CUTE WHAT THE HECK!! Um no wait ignore those questions! Most importantly, do you have like a kink that comes with it? Like do you like doggy style or-"

"Y/N I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU!"

"Aww, you're embarrassed! That's cute. I really caught myself a cutie!"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Ugh, I know."

[xmenwickedgame]

Here’s to the New Year (drabble)

//So I wrote this last year around this time. I just didn’t have a blog to share it on. Although some things have changed for my muses in a year I thought I’d upload this anyway. 

Happy New Year!

___

Sometimes ten years makes all the difference. 

That was the thought running through James Xavier’s head this evening. He was seated in the family room—distinct from the living room as this was smaller and almost exclusively reserved for his family as opposed to the growing student body. One of the many changes made over the last decade but not necessarily a bad one. The Xavier family and all extended members had a rough and rocky history: they deserved a space to let their hair down or however the saying went. Be the man and/or woman behind the curtain and just...unplug. On the off-chance someone somewhere needed something, well, that’s what telepathy was for. Mister Xavier to the rescue in record time. James smiled to himself, nestling further against the sofa he currently occupied. He remembered a time his powers caused more trouble than solutions. Another welcomed change in the last decade.

“What’s so funny?” Ventured a voice. James met the gray eyes of the woman seated beside him.

“Ahh, nothin’ Em,” he replied with a lazier grin. “Just reminiscing.”

Emily Clearwater was his best friend and significant other: she was one of if not the first major change in his life all those years ago. When he’d been a boy of fifteen and she a girl near-about that age—her Time Lord DNA made it difficult to tell. It worked out though, he mused, because he too aged at a slower rate. They’d been through hell and back, he and Emily had: sometimes hand in hand, others with teeth bared and bleeding hearts. Here they were now about to start a family.

Warmth filled James’ yellow eyes—eyes like his mother’s, but only the pupils—and he shuffled up just slightly.

“Reminiscing?” Emily echoed as he wove an arm around her shoulder. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you use that word.” She laughed as she spoke, a warm, hearty sound. He couldn’t help but echo it.

“Oh yeah?” James asked, kissing the crown of her auburn hair. “This mean I get some kinda prize?”

“Oi!” A loud and deliberately obnoxious voice belonging to the Doctor cut in. 

“Whatever you’re gonna give ‘im you give in your own private quarters. ‘s nothin’ anyone here wants to see.” The elder Time Lord waved his hand at the two in what looked like a scolding motion. James fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was unable, however, to fight off a blush and by the way Emily’s skin warmed up beneath his chin she’d apparently failed as well.

“Shite dad,” she grumbled and James was very sure he heard an eye roll in there. “We aren’t kids anymore.” Emily slid a hand over her baby bump. At four months, she was just starting to show. “Are you gonna keep the lectures up once the baby’s born?”

The Doctor scowled and leaned forward in the loveseat he currently occupied. 

“I will if you two can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Seriously, Doc?” James jumped in. He had, in the last decade, managed to score good graces with the older (way way older) Time Lord but that didn’t mean they always saw eye to eye. James placed his hand over Emily’s before continuing. “You don’t think we’d actually—“

“Okay that’s enough of that.” Announced the unmistakable voice of Raven Darkholme. All heads turned as she entered the room, a tray of finger foods balanced in each hand. Haha, James thought and while it was juvenile he couldn’t help himself: mom to the rescue.

“Need help, love?” Asked the Doctor, grabbing the arm rests as if prepared to stand. Raven shook her head: James didn’t miss the slant in her scaly brow.

“You stay put, Mister.” She said, crossing into the center of the room. An oval coffee table with a protective glass top sat there and it was on this glass she at last set down the trays. It was then James noticed she’d dressed up slightly for the evening: nothing flashy but the dark collared shirt and skirt combo (with accessories) were a step above her usual attire. Weird. Not necessarily a bad weird; it was New Year’s eve after all. They’d all gone the extra mile in one way or another. Himself more a half than the full but hey, he was among family. If combed hair and a button-down with jeans didn’t fly, why bother staying in? There were more than a few places around accepting that kind of attire. If James wanted to, he could spend a casual night in a smoke-filled bar, entertaining strangers who gawked at his eyes and marveled at his ‘magic tricks.’ Maybe in another life he did just that. The current James, however, would much rather his present company. He fit right in among the mutants and aliens. A soft laugh dropped from his lips and this caught Emily’s attention.

“What are you smirking about?” She asked, a bemused look on her face.

“Hm? Ah nothing. Nothing important.” Emily poked his shoulder. “Come on, you already used that one tonight. Tell me.” James‘ eyebrow stayed put but his smile widened.

“Fine,” he said. “I was thinkin’ how cute you look with your nose all wrinkled.”

“You were not.” Emily said, a touch of color in her cheeks again. She laughed as well now, a laugh she hastened to muffle behind her hand, lest (he guessed) she subject herself to more paternal embarrassment. The Doctor however no longer seemed interested in monitoring their PDA: attention refocused almost solely on Raven. It used to bother James and Emily both—wasn’t there some kind of rule against courting your son’s-girlfriend’s-father? (Or your daughter’s-boyfriend’s-mother?) Ten years really made a world of difference.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Asked the Doctor again when Raven returned to the door. She paused, arms crossed beneath her breasts.

“No. Thank you. I’m just waiting on the boys.”

“Oh yeah?” James chimed in, peering over Emily’s head. “Who’d you rope into helping this time?”

Now it was Raven raising a brow. And people assumed he’d inherited that trait from his father. “Why? Looking for a stand-in while you go crusading across the galaxy?”

Way to play left field there. James blinked, temporarily at a loss for words. If the surrounding silence was any indication, he wasn’t the only one. 

“Wh—no.” He sputtered. “I was just—“ and then he caught the smile playing on her lips. That victorious maternal smile when she knew she’d gotten through to him. “...sorry, mom. Wasn’t fair to leave you alone with the holiday stuff.”

“No it wasn’t,” Raven agreed. She paused, yellow eyes roving from what looked like face to face. “Lucky for you all,” she went on suddenly. “I wasn’t alone.” 

Raven looked to the doorway again. “Logan! You said you were right behind me.”

”I am right behind ya,” came the graveled growl of a one Logan Howlett. James ducked his head as the burly Canadian entered the room. The grin he wore would’ve all-too-easily caught Logan’s eye. Was he too old to call his mom a super-hero? Because damn, the way she commanded their rambunctious rag-tag family suggested nothing less.

“Put the bottles over there,” Raven said, nodding to the coffee table and when she did James noticed he was in fact carrying dark glass bottles. At a glance they all looked like champagne, but that was a lesson James didn’t need relearning: since he could remember, or at least for as long as they’d been close, sparkling cider—the kind free of alcohol—was included for the celebration. This year was no exception and thank goodness for it: he might’ve long since reached drinking age but champagne did no good for a mom-to-be. Half Time Lord or not, they’d agreed to play it safe. Besides, his father didn’t drink either.

Speaking of my dad, where is he? James sat up straighter, clearing his view of the doorway. No sooner did he then in limped Charles Xavier, his dad and apparently another extra set of hands. The older man carried with him several champagne glasses. Okay, that was new. Charles slowed as he crossed through the doorway, glancing shyly at Raven as though waiting for instruction. James’ parents had made as much peace with one another as they could but seeing them work together, when had that started? Or had it already and he in his ‘crusading ’ simply missed it?

“On the table, Charles,” said Raven gently and the elder Xavier bobbed his head. James tried his best not to stare. Charles had gradually emerged from his frightened shell since coming home but guilt and self-loathing, these took longer to overcome. Was ten years the time needed to heal all that? To heal the pain between his parents? James felt a finger that wasn’t his push his chin up. He took the hint, closing his mouth.

‘Thanks for that,’ he told Emily telepathically. He felt that same hand slide across his arm.

‘You’re welcome.’

The last two members of their family—Hank McCoy and Alex Summers—entered soon after. Alex almost immediately on Charles’ heels with the rest of the glasses in tow and Hank a little while later with a pretty but very athletic-looking woman James didn’t recognize.

“Hope it’s alright.” He said to Raven. She smiled, patting his shoulder.

“Of course it is, Hank. You don’t have to ask.” She slipped around him as he led his date towards them, closing the living room door. There was a sense of accomplishment in that, James felt it from his seat: a satisfied finality that now, together at last, they could ring in the new year.

‘All set mom?’ James asked, using his powers again. She looked over at him and though she said nothing at first, she didn’t need to: her eyes spoke volumes by themselves.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m all set, James.’ Then she joined the group right as Logan turned the TV on. Dick Clark’s face materialized before them, preparing for the Count Down as he always did. Some things never changed. For the most part though...for the most part they did and, James decided, watching his family interact, those changes often came for the better.

See you later, ‘87. Can’t wait to see what’s gearing up in 1988.

[statusquoergo]

Part II

Deposition, take two.

Harvey and Mike run into each other on their way into the conference room and Harvey informs Mike that this case is never going to make it in front of a jury, thanks to their decision to waive a jury trial. Mike is aghast but refuses Harvey’s suggestion to terminate the deposition, because “while a jury might never hear it, [he’s] gonna make that motherfucker answer for what he’s doing.”

Here’s the thing about that: As long as he does it in a timely fashion, the plaintiff has the right to demand a jury trial. So Mike can goad Haskins (the CEO of Brick Street Athletics, I guess) into saying whatever he wants in the deposition, but none of this finitely precludes the case from appearing before a jury.

During questioning, Mike lays out the working conditions at the factory—2000 people working “twice what they’re supposed to” (however this is supposed to be quantified), employee salaries of less than twenty cents per hour compared to Haskins’ salary of $20,000,000 per year, “building an empire on the backs of women and children” (Haskins denies that they employ children and Mike challenges that “it’s just women, then”)—and Haskins repeats the defense that they’re not breaking any local or international laws. Mike argues that conditions are so bad that two people have killed themselves in as many years, and Haskins bursts out with the key phrase: “God dammit, I don’t care how many people have killed themselves! This has nothing to do with my company!”

Real friendly. Appearing quite weary of this whole charade, Harvey asks if Mike is done, “Because [Mike] can get emotional, and [Haskins] can get emotional, but [Mike] still [has] no jury, and no case.” Not to mention “this testimony isn’t to be revealed outside this room.”

Actually I can think of at least one instance in which the deposition testimony would be admissible at trial, or in front of a judge: If Haskins testifies to anything contrary to what he said in deposition, Mike could introduce it to contradict or impeach the testimony given by the deponent as a witness, i.e., prove he lied.

But who cares about the law, this is Suits.

Louis and Sheila go to Lipschitz for therapy, and it’s nice that they’re trying to work out their problems, and the dialogue feels honest, and Sheila never wanted kids but now that she’s pregnant she’s embracing the idea of becoming a mother, and Louis supports her 1000%, and she loves him, and it’s no wonder Lipschitz is always so busy if this is how quickly he’s able to fix his clients’ problems.

Alex fills Katrina in on Faye’s request that he oversee Mike and Harvey, and Katrina tells him not to tell them about it because “Have you ever seen either one of them react well to an authority figure telling them not to do something?” It’s a pretty inconsequential scene, but I like the reminder that Mike and Harvey used to be, like. Marvey.

Harvey swings by Mike’s place to make sure they’re still on good terms after Mike got his ass kicked at the deposition, but Mike drops the bomb that Jeremy had a televised interview that day and wore a t-shirt to said interview printed with the quote: “I don’t care how many people kill themselves, we abide by the law,” attributed to Haskins. Harvey angrily charges that “Dammit, Mike, that deposition was under seal,” and Mike retorts, “So sue me.”

Excuse me, gentlemen, I just want to point something out here:

“Anything that could get us disbarred or put in prison is off limits.”

You know what two of the several qualifiers for disbarment are in New York State? Crimes and misdemeanors featuring interference with the administration of justice, and misappropriation.

Mike, that was your fucking ground rule.

Mike then argues that if Harvey does sue him, “it won’t be a countersuit anymore” (it’s not a countersuit now), “which means there will be a jury” (he can still demand a jury trial). Harvey threatens to have him sanctioned, and Mike says that’s fine since the video is already going viral; Brick Street’s best option is to give in to Jeremy’s demands and let him out of his contract with full pay so, wait for it, he can start his own competing and much more ethical apparel company, using the contract salary as seed money and the suit as free publicity.

This is bullshit. This is total bullshit.

Forget the part where it’s legal nonsense, let’s just focus on what an underhanded move this was for Mike. Harvey, for some ungodly reason, seems proud of him for pulling this off, guessing that Mike “helped [Jeremy] plan this thing from the beginning”; Mike says it was easy to pull off, since he knew Harvey would try to play the man, “but the thing is, the version of [Mike who Harvey] thought [he] was playing, he doesn’t exist anymore. The new Mike cares more about results than he does about playing the violin.”

Great. That’s great. But what the fuck does Korsh think he’s doing? Why send Mike off to Seattle to take on class action suits against Fortune 500s, why highly publicize Mike’s return, why bring him back at all to turn him into some unrecognizable version of himself who’s not even doing the work he supposedly left New York, the firm, and Harvey to follow his heart for in the first place? If anything, this episode is a tragedy, a stab directly into Harvey’s already fragile heart; Mike, his protégé, his best friend, his comrade in arms, abandoned him to fight for the greater good and has made a triumphant return to once again do battle, to show how much he’s learned from Harvey, how much he’s grown since they parted ways, but instead of playing on an even field, or joining forces to accomplish something actually meaningful, Mike uses the fact that Harvey’s usual tactics of skirting the law are hampered by Faye’s oversight in order to give himself a huge (and illegal) advantage which he started this case by promising not to use.

So I guess that when it comes right down to it, all Mike has really learned by setting out on his own is how to walk past the bodies he piles up in his wake. The ends justify the means, and that’s all there is to that.

God dammit.

Oh, but we’re not even out of the woods yet, because after some cute but logically unsound banter (“Are you actually taking credit for my win when you lost? Let’s be very clear about something here, Harvey, right now you are the governor of Loserville, and I am the mayor of Winnertown.” “You know mayor’s below governor, right?” “Not in Winnertown, he isn’t.”) Harvey invites Mike for drinks, which after this catastrophe of an episode would’ve been a nice Moment for the two of them, except that he goes on to invite Donna along for absolutely no reason whatsoever except to keep repainting every hint of Marvey that this show has ever had with a big old brush of Darvey.

Before drinks happen, though, Katrina stops by to inform Donna that she’s taken her advice to focus more on herself, signing up for a ballet class to follow up on an interest she had when she was younger and piggybacking on Alex’s interest in tap by showcasing Amanda Schull’s history as a professional ballet dancer. And one more thing: Brian called her back and left a message, but she “deleted it without even listening,” which Donna cites as “amazing,” for…some reason. Seems kind of rude to me, but alright, sure, whatever. Donna then invites her over for drinks with Mike and Harvey (not that this was supposed to be an intimate personal affair or anything), which she refuses because “Tonight’s the first night of class,” so, good for her.

Samantha, unsurprisingly, has become aware of Mike’s little stunt with Jeremy’s interview attire and declares to Harvey that she’s not going to let him get away with it. Harvey bleakly submits that “he beat us fair and square” (no, he didn’t) but Samantha says that’s bullshit, that he planned this in advance and it’s a clear violation of Jeremy’s contract. (Is it? I wouldn’t know, the specific contract details have been kept very under-the-table. Plausible deniability, I suppose.) Harvey doesn’t want to fight this because “knowing Mike, [they’ll] never prove it”; Samantha accuses him of being proud of Mike (why), and Harvey asks so what if he is (why), and Samantha says that if they can’t find proof, she’ll make it. Shockingly, Harvey orders her not to do that (what, because it’s illegal? Or because it reminds him too much of Cameron Dennis?), and she storms out.

Remember when Louis asked Benjamin for help with the whole donation thing? Benjamin’s finally getting his just reward for all the shit he pulls for these people as Louis promotes him to Vice President (the benefits of such a thing being utterly unclear, but I suppose it’s the thought that counts) and gives him a thirty percent raise. So, uh. That’s nice.

Now about those drinks. At Harvey’s place, Donna prepares a cheese plate, and Harvey tries to greet Mike with a somewhat excessively enthusiastic “Hey! You want some cheese?” Mike, however, is not interested in any cheese, because it seems Samantha went ahead and fabricated that evidence after all; Mike accuses Harvey of bribing Charles Hu to say Mike contacted him eighteen months ago with the scheme to get Jeremy out of his contract, which he can’t dispute because “[he’s] on the record saying the guy’s a saint.” (What record, what is he talking about?) Harvey says he had nothing to do with it, Mike calls bullshit, and Donna steps in to say, in a slightly creepy tone of voice, that “It’s not bullshit, Mike. He’s telling the truth.” For some stupid fucking reason, Mike didn’t believe Harvey but he does believe Donna, so he determines it must have been Samantha who lied about him, and asks Harvey what he intends to do about it. Harvey says there’s nothing he can do about it, and when Mike points out that he can say she fabricated evidence, Harvey pulls his loyalty card at the worst possible time:

“Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what would happen to her?” “I don’t care! She is cheating my client out of a company that could change people’s lives!” “And I’m not gonna sell her out! Just like I’d do for you if you were still here.” “I don’t believe this. You’re pissed that I left!” “No, Mike, I’m glad that you left, and you could have come back to visit any fucking time, but you came back to pick a fight with me that you rigged six months ago.” “Oh, so it’s not that I left. It’s just that I beat you.”

Oh boy.

First of all, we get out of the way the hint that Mike really was taking this case on to make a difference in the world, but I dunno, man, feels to me like this is too little, too late.

Then, finally, after a full season and a half of no resolution, we finally get Harvey’s admission that he’s upset Mike left. Yeah, no shit; their goodbye, as I’ve lamented to the point of tear-inducing monotony, was terrible and inconclusive, and Harvey’s behavior afterwards has not been that of a man who’s at peace with the change in his life (s08e01-04, 13). And finally, he acknowledges out loud that he’s angry (yes, angry) that Mike hasn’t come back to visit, and now that he has, it’s just to pick a fight with Harvey that he secretly rigged far in advance. That doesn’t seem to me like a fight Mike should be particularly proud to tout as a win; the odds were artificially weighted in his favor, and he went out of his way to tip them even further by making them both promise not to do anything illegal and then breaking that promise himself when he knew Harvey would be in no position to follow suit.

That is a dick move.

But we’re not done yet:

“No, you almost did. I was gonna let you get away with it, but she didn’t. And I might want to kill her, but I’m not gonna betray her.” “I don’t care about her! I care about you. You gave me your word, and the Harvey I know wouldn’t break his word and screw over a bunch of innocent people in the process. You lost yourself, Harvey. And you know it.”

Fuck.

Not only should Mike not be proud of this win he achieved illegally, but it was only his to take because Harvey made the conscious decision not to turn him in for those illegal activities.

You know what’s the real gut punch here?

“I care about you.”

You sure about that, Mike? Because you could stand to fucking act like it.

He goes on to as much as admit that Samantha’s involvement—not her fabrication of evidence, just the fact that she was there, was the thing that ruined this for him, because “the Harvey [he knows]” would have acted predictably, and he would have been able to manipulate him. “I always have time for an old friend”? He always has time to use an old friend for his own advantage, maybe. I agree that Harvey hasn’t been acting like himself of late, but my rationale for that has always been that Mike’s rapid departure broke him and he’s been unable to recover, and if this is what Mike’s return means, well, maybe Harvey’s better off.

(Harvey would be better off leaving the firm and going into intensive therapy, but I’m trying to keep my goals achievable for the time being.)

Harvey then returns to the firm to confront Samantha and yell at her for lying to him, and she says she didn’t lie, she just changed her mind, so that’s mature. She asks if he’s really mad at her crossing a line or because she beat “[his] little adopted son” (did you catch that? "Adopted son," i.e., "definitely not a love interest thank you very much"), and Harvey tells her that he defended her to Mike, but that’s over now because he doesn’t trust her anymore, and I guess he’s taking his ball and going home and there’s nothing she can do about it.

Spoiler alert, Faye happened to observe this whole exchange, and now has some mulling to do.

This whole episode has been one giant offense to the memory of Mike and Harvey’s relationship, but this part might just take the cake: Louis arrives at Mike’s apartment while Mike is packing to go to the airport, because Donna sent him, and she would’ve come herself but “she’s with Harvey now” and “she didn’t want [Mike] to hold it against her.” Mike says he’s not holding anything against her, and Louis asks him not to hold anything against Harvey, either. Bringing up the story he told Mike back in “Blood in the Water” (s02e12) about himself and Harvey being Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog, he says that he and Harvey “were rivals at work. But no matter how much [they] fought, at the end of the day, [they] didn’t let it get in the way of [their] friendship.” Kindly permitting Mike to be furious at Harvey for defending Samantha’s actions, Louis asks that he nevertheless not let this be the end of him and Harvey. Rather than comment on the request, or their relationship, Mike says that he has a plane to catch.

As Louis bids his farewell, Mike calls him back to give him the last of the “You Just Got Spitt Up” onesies that he had made up in Season 8, which Rachel apparently took to save for him. Louis tells Mike to thank Rachel for him, he agrees to do so, and Mike and Louis, of all people, get the heavily emotional hug I was hoping Mike and Harvey would get when I saw that bullshit reunion in the teaser.

Then Faye goes into Samantha’s office and finagles her into tacitly admitting that she’s the one who fabricated the evidence, not Harvey, and Faye fires her, so at least some good came out of all this.

Part IV

[braytonwilds-blog]

12... 3, 2, 1

            On August 24th, 2019, Andrew Luck of the Indianapolis Colts shocked the world when he made his retirement from the National Football League known over a post-game news interview. My father and I watched the game, but didn’t watch the locker room film, expecting nothing other than the norm. Andrew was only 29 years old and was reaching the prime of his football career when he decided to hop off the horse. Football fans everywhere were shocked at the retirement of this young athletic star, who seemingly left with no hints of doing so. When the Indianapolis Colts then took the next step and made Jacoby Brissett the new starting quarter back a lot of people were confused and untrusting.

             However now, a week later, Indianapolis fans are at a change of heart. Excited for opening day because of Brissett’s rhetorical presentation of talents and readiness for this next challenge. In an interview with Brissett and the Colts management, Colts coach said that Brissett has run more snaps this year in training camps than one would in a regular season, perfect practice makes perfect. Under a consistent and healthy direction from a new coach, Frank Reich, Brissett stated that he was more ready than ever to take this next step.  When asked if he was prepared to be a starter, Jacoby’s response “Since Day 1, I have always been preparing as a starter” Jacoby has been a back-up quarterback to both Tom Brady and Andrew Luck , in my opinion, two of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game, and he has been waiting his fair share amount of time to take what he’s learned and put them on the field.

             Just like this starting NFL Quarterback, we all use Rhetoric even when we aren’t doing it with intention. Brissett has most likely been focused on bettering himself and his team and was not focused on convincing the Indianapolis fans that he was ready for the challenge ahead. But, what we don’t notice is that, we have been using Rhetoric since before we could talk, walk, throw a football... Brissett’s stats in the training camp earlier this summer was an appeal to Logos (Logic.) Along with his past as a back up quarterback in the league which would appeal to the Ethos (his credibility)of football fans. These things allow the Indianapolis fans to be easily swayed in knowing that he is not a rookie to the game of football or the way that this team works.

             You could even say that the Indianapolis fans were experiencing the phenomena of “Columbusing” which is the of idea of "discovering" something and engaging with something that's existed forever in other cultures. Jacoby and this team have been working together for years and Jacoby and the game of football have been working together since he was a little boy. These fans are just now starting to dig a little bit deeper under the surface to understand that there is more to a person and idea than what is just to be seem or assumed. In conclusion, we see that rhetoric is used in our daily lives and has been forever, in what we wear, how he walk (body language,) the words we use and how we phrase them, and how we perform whether under pressure or a perfectly comfortable environment. Rhetoric is everywhere, and it is wise to try and spot when it is being used effectively, if even on purpose. Go Blue!!!

Interview: https://www.colts.com/video/locker-room-insights-jacoby-brissett

[the-a-factor-fs-blog]

Kiss & Cry - Episode 1

Welcome to the first Episode of “Kiss & Cry”, Max Ambesi’s latest podcasts series.

For this first Episode, Max was accompanied by Alessandro Genuzio (Winter Sport Journalist, with his field of interests being mainly focused on Skiing in all its variation), who did the introduction, the ending and asked various questions.

By next Episode, Angelo Dolfini (Max Ambesi usual partner for Eurosport Commentary) will be back in the Team.

This first podcast is 104.29 minutes long, and it’s available to be listened in Italian here: https://www.spreaker.com/user/talk-sport/puntata-1

In the following translation, (M) indicates when M. Ambesi is speaking, (A) indicates when A. Genuzio is speaking.

Translated by The-A-Factor Team. Please do not repost without permission.

Table of Content:

Nebelhorn Trophy – Analysis and Talks over the last Olympic Qualification Competition.

Junior Grand Prix – Thoughts over the qualification phase so far. Russian fields and Eteri Tutberidze’s School.

Challenger Series – Yuzuru Hanyu updates one of his World Records, Overview of what Challengers Series offered up to now.

ISU Scoring System – How to changes rules to try and reach a balance between Technical Scoring and “Artistic” One?

Part 1: Nebelhorn Trophy 

Analysis and Talks over the last Olympic Qualification Competition.

(A): “ So let’s start this episode with our first topic: the Nebelhorn Trophy in Oberstdorf, last stage to qualify for the Olympic Games the most important event of the season. Italy has yet to qualify for the men’s event, what shall we look for in this competition and in the men’s event in particular?” (M): “Well it’s a competition that takes place very early in the season, so many athletes were forced to rush their usual preparation, except for those who come from the junior level, who are used to competing in the JGP. There will be 6 spots available for men and Italy is sending Matteo Rizzo to conquer a spot for Pyeongchang. The spot won’t be his directly, but for the Italian skater that will be selected to compete at Olympics by the Italian federation - even though Matteo did very well in the first competition of the season, raising his personal best by more than 20 points, so he has staked his claim to be in the Olympic team. All he needs to do is to finish in top six and that is surely within his reach.

Let’s be even clearer, the great favorite of this competition - Jun Hwan Cha, who’ll turn 16 in October - won’t be there, because he failed to qualify for this event at the Olympic trial in Korea. He had an ankle injury going into that competition, he worsened it by trying numerous quads and ultimately left Korea on crutches. So as a consequence, he wasn’t selected to compete in Oberstdorf, which is a real pity, because this kid can easily get 250 points from the start. His life coach (and training mate) is a certain Yuzuru Hanyu, someone who rarely backs off even when badly injured. It seems that Hanyu really took Cha under his wing, maybe he saw potential in him or he reminds him of his own youth. Anyhow, Cha won’t be in Oberstdorf, much to Korea’s chagrin because now they have to rely on June Hyoung Lee, who had a good career in juniors, but it’s unclear whether he’ll be able to finish top 6 here or not.

Essentially, there are 8 skaters who can aim at top 6: Jorik Hendrickx, from Belgium, who is the favourite; Paniot from Ukraine could be the alternative, he made history already for being the first european skater to land a quad Flip; Matteo Rizzo could be the third pole together with Malaysian Julian Zhi Jie Yee and Philippine Martinez; then there’s Korean Lee, Swedish Majorov and Stephane Walker from Switzerland. Both Majorov and Walker were beaten by Rizzo at Lombardia Trophy, so chances are there for Matteo especially because, since 1988, Italy has failed to qualify a male skater for the Olympics only once - Lillehammer 1994.” (A): “Max, let’s explain the qualification criteria even better and what Matteo needs to do to qualify.”

(M): “Very easy, he needs to finish in top six. For men, there are 30 spots allotted for the Olympics, which could become 31 only if the Korean man doesn’t qualify at Nebelhorn Trophy, so they will have to use the “host spot” to assure the presence of a skater from the hosting country. 24 spots were assigned during the World Championships and the last six will be assigned here. In other disciplines numbers are different, there are 20 spots allotted for pairs and 24 for ice dance.”

(A): “Since you mentioned, let’s get more in-depth and talk about ice dance and pairs too, even looking at the Team Event qualification since this will be the second Olympics with this new competition.” (M): “Let’s start with ice dance and pairs.

Theoretically, there are 5 spots left to assign in ice dance, but there will in fact be six because Denmark waived its place, as their ice dance team had unsolvable issues with citizenship - the matter is really complex, but let’s just say that, over the last years, there has been a lot of buying and selling, especially from countries where it is easier to obtain citizenship. Often when the two federations agree on the transfer, they can present a document to the IOC attesting that there’s no impediment to the citizenship and then the skaters can compete for the new country in no time. Of course this raises a number of problems, as there are countries with less stringent citizenship legislation, such as Israel or Spain, and others like Japan where laws are stricter. Anyways, back to ice dance, there are teams looking for the last spot but we should say there also coaches looking for more spots. In other words, the more countries a coach represents at the Olympics, the more “favourable” the judging will be for his or her lower ranked skaters.

Let’s be more specific, the favourites for the win at the Nebelhorn Trophy are British Coomes/Buckland who are coming back after a long hiatus due to Penny’s injuries; the other two main teams are Germans Lorenz/Polizoakis and Japanese Muramoto/Reed. These last two teams have something in common – they are both coached by Marina Zueva whose top skaters at the moment are the Shibutani siblings; while Coomes/Buckland are coached by Igor Shpilband who has Chock/Bates as his top team. Koreans Min/Gamelin should be the fourth force of the competition and they are coached by Shpilband too. The rest is a lottery, to be honest. The Czech team might have something more than the others, there’s the new Hungarian team with two skaters who had both a brilliant career in juniors - to be fair, Yanovskaya won everything at the junior level with her former partner Mozgov.

All in all, the four teams I mentioned above - Great Britain, Germany, Japan and Korea - shouldn’t have any difficulty earning a spot.

You mentioned the Team Event, and the regulations here are quite contorted. To participate in the Team Event, a country must earn its qualification in two of the four disciplines at least. So let’s say a country qualifies for two disciplines, the ISU allows the country to have an entry in one of the missing disciplines, meaning that there’s the risk one country will end up competing in only three of the four disciplines in the Team Event. Obviously the ISU would like to avoid this possibility, but in my opinion there’s a big chance this will happen with Spain, I’ll explain later why.

For example, the Japanese ice dance team earning a spot at Nebelhorn automatically allows Japan to be at the Team Event in all four disciplines and this is good news since it will certainly be difficult for Japan to earn a spot in the pairs event - by the way, spots in pairs will be five because France waived its second spot.

As for the pairs event, some teams are clearly ahead of the others and will qualify for sure: Czech Duskova/Bidar who came close at the World Championships already; North Koreans Ryom/Kim who have been training in Canada lately, and rumors say they have improved even more; then there’s the Australian pair Alexandrovskaya/Windsor, reigning Junior World Champions – she is clearly Russian but managed to obtain Australian citizenship pretty fast. Fourth in line, Austrians Zieger/Kiefler, she competed in singles at the 2010 Olympics and together they competed at the Sochi Olympics too. The fifth pair in my opinion is the Israeli, with this somewhat mythological character, Evgeni Krasnopolsky, who changed countless partners, but for the Olympic season he always manages to find the right one. He competed at the Sochi Olympics with Andrea Davidovich, then they split and now he found Paige Conners, who competed at the Junior Worlds last season, and they achieved some pretty outstanding scores already, for being such a new team. The wild card could be the Japanese team Suto/Boudreau-Audet, but to be honest they looked pretty bad in their first Challenger Series event, so I see them behind the five teams I’ve mentioned above.

Back to the Team Event, there’s a lot of confusion about the rules so let’s try to make things clearer.

Some teams will be there with full quota and these are the current “superpowers”: Russia, Canada, USA and China. France will be there with full quota as well and Italy too, since Italy has earned spots in three disciplines already, and even if Rizzo should miss the chance in Oberstdorf, the Italian team could still take part in the Team Event in all four disciplines. Germany and Japan will be there with full quota too, thanks to the 3+1 rule. This makes 8 countries, so there are two spots left, and the battle will be between Spain, Australia, Korea, Czech Republic and Israel.

The minimum required to be at the event is to earn the qualification in at least 2 disciplines, although some of the countries I mentioned above could easily qualify in three disciplines. The trickiest country for the ISU is Spain, since it is highly unlikely that the Spanish pair will be able to earn a spot at Nebelhorn Trophy. Clearly, an Olympic Team Event with 9 pairs instead of 10 won’t be really ideal.

We shall see how it ends, as all teams will ultimately be selected based on a very complicated and contorted “Qualification Ranking” that will be compiled at the end of the Grand Prix - I won’t go into details here, but basically, the ranking will add up the skaters’ results in the Grand Prix and Grand Prix Final and the top 10 countries in rank will be allowed to compete at the Team Event.

There’s obviously hope for Korea to make the Team Event. As we said, they need to qualify in ice dance and men at the Nebelhorn Trophy, and then try to keep their spot as Korea is now ranked 10th in the Qualification Ranking. But as I explained, there are many countries pushing hard behind. As we remarked earlier, Italy is in and will probably bring to Pyeongchang the oldest Olympic Team ever, but we’ll have time to discuss about this later on in the season.”

(A): “Max, as a former skater yourself, what do you think of the Team Event in figure skating? Do you think it makes sense, would you prefer if it didn’t give medals... We see the IOC is pushing a lot for this team competition in many other sports.”

(M): “Well I have practiced figure skating, hockey, and short track to be fair! I would say that the introduction of the Mass Start in speed skating and the Team Event in figure skating are a bit against the essence of these sports.

The real problem of the Team Event in figure skating is the regulations though, because looking closely it’s the short program that decides the standings. We have 10 countries, and the top 5 after the short program advance to the free skate. The problem is that points for the short program go from 1 (for 10th place) to 10 (for 1st place), while points in the free program go either from 6 to 10 or from 1 to 5, so it’s not 10 to the 1st, 8 to the 2nd, 6 to the 3rd, meaning it’s in fact the short program that shifts the weight. That’s where some of the countries we mentioned earlier come into play. For example, if Spain qualifies for the team event, they could tip the weight in the medal competition, not because Spain will get a medal at the Team Event (they won’t even qualify for the free skate), but because Javier Fernandez could steal points from some medal contenders in the short program.

Of course it’s too soon to predict now, but it’s a fact that the competition is highly influenced by the short programs and there are teams that can either “disturb” or “help” the main medal contenders, Italy included. So for example, Fernandez would help Italy, as he is capable of stealing points from all the nations there, Italy included, so for Italy, it would be better if he were there rather than a Korean like Cha, who could beat the Italian skater placing behind one of Italy’s rivals to advance to the free skating.

Although, as I said, it’s still too soon to tell, we will get back to this topic later in the season and maybe do some simulations. To conclude, yes this Team Event isn’t the best and if it were for me I’d place it as the last event and not at the beginning.” (A): “I agree with you. Ok, let’s end our first topic with a preview of the ladies event at the Nebelhorn Trophy, which doesn’t seem like the most exciting event there.”

(M): “Yes, no doubt. It’s undoubtedly the weakest of the four competitions, and also pretty difficult to predict. There are some skaters with superior quality for sure, like Armenian Galustyan, or Australian Kraine; then there’s Lindfors from Finland, Norway’s Gjersem; Algotsson from Sweden, Khnychenkova for Ukraine and a recently imported athlete, Alexia Paganini from Switzerland.

In case some of those skaters should have a meltdown, there are others who can hope, like Amy Lin, although she didn’t look quite good to me in her recent outings. She was previously Karen Chen’s training mate, and then changed coaching team to Rafael Arutunyan, who is very popular right now in the USA but not really a guarantee of improvement.

The ladies’ event is really unpredictable here. I’d only pay attention to Australia, which can really manage to qualify in three disciplines, and it would be a remarkable result. They have already earned a spot in the men’s with Brendan Kerry at Worlds; he’s a good quad jumper – Salchow and the Toe Loop looked easy in training and the Loop isn’t far.

If Australia qualifies in three of the four events, it would be an important signal for the whole figure skating movement and for ISU which tried to help smaller Federations with different initiatives. So let’s see if Australia with a final push manages to even qualify for Team Event.”

[ndT: This podcast was recorded before Nebelhorn Trophy started. After competitions held here, this is the actual situation regarding Olympic Qualification]

Part 2: Junior Grand Prix

Thoughts over the qualification phase so far. Russian fields and Eteri Tutberidze’s School.

Credits to ISU

(A): “So… let’s change topic. We are now well into the season, especially regarding juniors. We are halfway through the junior grand prix, so let’s try to explain what happened in these first competitions and which athletes have already qualified or are well on their way to the jgpf.”

(M): “Well, Russia is currently making history. Truthfully, it’s a coach, rather than the nation itself: Eteri Tutberidze. Clearly of Georgian origins and a former ice dancer, she has worked in the US in the past, also for sentimental reasons – her daughter is called Diana Davis, so it’s clear that Tutberidze was attached to a north american man – before going back to Russia. And then she opened this school – she started working in this school in Moscow – and her method started to take hold. One of her first athletes was Shelepen, former rival of athletes like Sotnikova and Tuktamysheva; weaker than the latter, but those two are incredible talents, the likes of which weren’t seen for quite some time in Russia. But we’ll talk about them later.

Tutberidze has coached many great athletes now, and her girls have won the first four junior grand prix events this season. If we consider last year’s final as well, that makes it five consecutive ones. In general, Russia has won the last seven jgp; the record belongs to the US, with eight consecutive wins. The girls will compete in Zagreb starting from tomorrow, and the favourite for the win is a girl coached by Tutberidze: Tarakanova, a fantastic athlete, who used to work, until last season, with another coach from Moscow, Panova, who coached for years one of the senior girls we’ve seen lately: Maria Sotskova. Tarakanova had a fantastic debut this season, as she immediately reached more than 190 points. She will be the clear favourite in Zagreb, and we could see five out five wins from Eteri in the jgp, and eight consecutive wins for Russia, an impressive streak. But it isn’t so predictable, that Russia will win the final, since the  Russian girls’ biggest rival, named Rika Kihira, probably has something more than them. Because Rika is able to do a triple axel, an element that could make a difference, and because maybe, Kihira, who is two years older than the best Russian girls, could have something more when it comes to certain marks of the pcs. The only problem is that Kihira hasn’t qualified yet; she will compete in Italy, Egna, in October; a competition not to be missed. And there we will see several athletes who will need to end up on the podium in order to secure the qualification to the final; girls who have a second place finish from their first assignment: Kihira, Gulyakova and another Japanese girl, who surprisingly ended on the podium in the latest jgp. She is coached by Yuko Monna, Miki Ando’s former coach, and the first coach of athletes like Asada, in Nagoya, Aichi prefecture, the “capital” of skating in Japan. So we can’t take a Russian win for granted. I think that Eteri Tutberidze’s strategy might secure even six wins, because she does have two athletes who might win: Panenkova, who already won a GP, and Kostornaya, who is quickly rising through the ranks and might even make it to the last gp, even though she isn’t entered there yet.

And just because of the Russian federation’s strategy when it comes to the assignments, there will be three, or four, girls in the JGPF, instead of the possible five. Anna Shcherbakova, the leader of the 2003-2004 generation, is injured and didn’t take part in the JGP. Shcherbakova is 100% a product of Tutberidze’s school, almost like Medvedeva, meaning that she started to skate with Tutberidze. And the girls who started to skate with Tutberidze are used to an amount of workload that the other girls can’t sustain. There’s a focus on physical training that other schools don’t have. It’s obvious then that these girls are able to do two double axels and seven triples easily, and with good quality at that. They are all girls with different technique, and yet they can execute difficult elements with good quality. Why? Because the girls who have always worked with Tutberidze are used to practicing free programs, not with two double axels and seven triples, but two double axels, the usual seven triples and another nine triples. Two double axels and sixteen triples! Do I make myself clear? There are girls from other nations who can’t do two double axels and four triples in a free program, and these girls train free programs with all the jumps in the second half of the program, 2+16, meaning that they attach a triple toeloop to all the jumping passes they have in their layouts. So using Zagitova, who isn’t a junior anymore, as an example: if you do a 3lz3lo combo in competition, you attach a 3t after the rittberger during practice. It’s clear that these athletes are used to training such difficult elements that a competition program becomes trivial. We are talking about an evolution in skating, ascribable to this coach, who clearly manages to make these girls work like this. Not to mention that there’s also great quality when it comes to their skating itself, as there’s an incredible amount of transitions, never seen in other Russian schools. The difference can be easily seen in Mishin’s students, even those who arrived there when they were older, if you compare them with 15-17 yo girls. Even 13-15 truthfully. You can’t compare. Maybe some of Mishin’s older students reach 36 pcs, but if we want to talk about transitions and deep edges, we can’t even compare: the youngsters are on another level.”

(A): “Max, I want to play devil’s advocate here, since we are talking about Russia. We’ve recently seen an article in an Italian newspaper, in which the author criticized the young Russian girls, like Sotnikova, who won an Olympic gold medal, but then retired very early. Isn’t there a risk here, that these great skaters, that you are rightly praising here, might end up like this too?”

(M): “Well, Russia had to wait until 2014 to win an Olympic gold medal in the ladies’ field, and until the 90s to win worlds, thanks to Slutskaya, Butyrskaya etc, meaning that they struggled to win in the days of the Soviet Union. They didn’t manage to win the Olympics and Slutskaya wasn’t the one to win the first Olympic title, even though the Salt Lake City 2002 result is debatable, and in 2006 she couldn’t win, since Arakawa was out of reach for her and the others. It’s meaningful that this country struggled to win. It’s meaningful because Russia has the deepest field, and the domestic competition is incredible. During the Sochi Olympics, while commentating, I joked that during training sessions there were observers taking notes – I had defined them as scouts, as it happens for some sports in the US – and some people wrote on Twitter that Ambesi was drunk and spouting nonsense.

Well, this is how it works in Russia: there are scouts, from certain schools, who travel around, to attend local competitions, to see girls who are 9-10 yo. If these girls satisfy their standards, they are brought to the biggest cities: Moscow and St. Petersburg – which is falling to misfortune at the moment, while Moscow is faring better. This is how Zagitova and Tsurskaya were discovered, or even Tuktamysheva. Why am I saying this? Because the depth of this field is astounding; it’s obvious that some girls might not make it, when other interests take precedence over skating. To be clear: Russia probably hasn’t even had two talents like Sotnikova and Tuktamysheva again yet and we haven’t seen a skater with Sotnikova’s quality yet, not even in Sochi – yes, Kim and Kostner included. Have a look at Sotnikova’s feet and what she did with those feet, the likes of which we have never seen. I don’t even want to mention the criticism she received, because those people don’t even have the means to talk about skating. As a matter of fact, Sotnikova lost her way simply because other interests took over. These are young girls who go through hard training starting when they are 8-9 years old; Sotnikova already had four national titles back then, and four Russian titles are not something trivial. She used to beat girls who were 18-19 when she was 11 and the same can be said for Tuktamysheva; they were two incredible talents and everything started with them. After them came a huge number of girls, athletes who haven’t shown to possess that kind of quality: Medvedeva doesn’t have Sotnikova’s quality when it comes to her skating, nor Tutkamysheva’s jumping technique. Maybe Tsurskaya, if healthy, could be the perfect product, but sadly health plays an important part in a skater’s career. In a field with this depth, in which you can be exposed to other distractions as you start winning, there’s risk of a short career. And this is what happened to Sotnikova – I repeat myself, an incredible skater. Whoever has seen her skate in galas, maybe not in the last few months but until last year, was enraptured by the quality of her skating. Had she a different body type, she would probably have been a fantastic ice dancer.

So, yes, these girls can disappear, but it’s because of the domestic competition. We can’t say this system disposes of these girls – that is just wrong. In every sport, in a country where there is such competition, it’s obvious that you always have to be in peak shape and you could happen to be defeated by a younger athlete. This happens in Korea, when it comes to the short track: an athlete now known as Viktor Ahn, whose name is Ahn Hyun-soo, was put on the sidelines of the Korean system. Someone who then went to another country and won loads of gold medal at the Olympics, not considering worlds. Ahn Hyun-soo, greatest of all time, that is put on the sidelines in Korea because there are young athletes on the rise and that, during the trials, might have been in better shape. Yes, he was coming back from injury and all, but it’s the same in Russia.

There’s another problem though, one that nobody has talked about yet: looking into the future, the stronger girls all come from the same club: Medvedeva, from Tutberidze’s school, Zagitova, who reached almost 220 points in her senior debut, while no one had reached more than 200 in their first competition – Lombardia was inflated and all of that, but 220 points is huge. This girl does two Lutz, obviously talking about triples here, and two Flips in the second half of the program. When have we ever seen something like this? These are the most extreme programs in history, not counting those who had a Triple Axel. But then, even those who had one, didn’t have such extreme programs. Zagitova is, in theory, Tutberidze’s no.2, and the no.3 is Polina Tsurskaya, a possible perfect machine, if she didn’t have health problems. Regarding juniors, we have already talked about these girls who are dominating the grand prix: Trusova. We could call her the “total package”, because there’s everything there. Maybe she isn’t rewarded for it when it comes to PCS, but do you know why she isn’t? Because she is seen as small in the rink, kind of like a “Miyahara syndrome”, who was held back in PCS for years, until they realised that she was a great athlete, and then the judging towards her changed. Maybe it’s the same for Trusova, who is seen as small and tiny…and some say that she doesn’t “fill” the rink – and this is one of the most debatable things I have ever heard – and so she isn’t rewarded in PCS. This is an incredible skater. I invite you to look at Trusova’s programs without jumps, and see all the other things she does, spins and jumps aside. This is the next generation: Trusova, and Shcherbakova. Panenkova, who isn’t one of her best pupils, has won a JGP. Tarakanova, who is the newest in Tutberidze’s school, is amazing. And there are others, besides them.

There’s a risk here, when a single school dominates the entire field, it can’t be good for its balance. I think that, if there had been enough spots for Tutberidze’s girls, she could have had four girls in the Final, because there’s a girl who has only one Grand Prix assignment, in Poland – keep an eye on her – who would have reached the final had she gotten two events. All of this to explain the situation regarding one school. There’s incredible competition. Other schools are struggling more, CSKA included, and SPB is in decline, but that’s because some of these schools didn’t really understand how skating has evolved: it will suffice to look at Tuktamysheva, an incredible athlete… but with empty programs. It’s obvious that she cannot compete with Medvedeva, unless she can do two Triple Axels. If she can’t do that, it’s obvious that she can’t be competitive. So, as I was saying, a lot of domestic competition that might “ruin” some athletes. But to say that the system is twisted…seems wrong to me. It’s a system that offers some great quality, and obviously whoever has the most quality keeps going. If you miss an opportunity you can decline, if you are good you can make up for it throughout your career, why not? But this is part of the game, see swimming in the US, or even athletics. I don’t see why the Russian ladies field is so criticized in Italy or elsewhere. Where’s the problem? That we are not able to create a similar system? If that’s it, let’s start by doing an apprenticeship with Tutberidze, instead of other people who are invited here and haven’t won anything. Let’s try to understand how this coach works, inside the rink, and off ice too, because it’s not possible that her athletes are physically on another level. Alessandro, you were an athlete, and I think you understand what we’re talking about.”

(A): “Right…sadly there’s lots of envy in Italy, and probably too little topics to talk about, so we try to discredit our rivals.”

(M): “I tell you this: one of the… so-called Italian legends – I won’t say the name – recently said that what they want is to have great athletes, of 22 years of age. But… in the ladies’ field, your career is basically done, at 22. History says so. All you need is to take a look at who won gold medals. Of course there’s always the exception, but we are talking about girls like Arakawa, amazing athletes who were already strong at the age of 15. It’s not like they suddenly became stars at 22. Carolina Kostner, who made history in Italy, was a phenom at 13. It would have been amazing to see that Kostner in the current Grand Prix, had she grown up with this scoring system and not the 6.0. Because had she learned to skate with this system, she would have the possibility of going head-to-head with these athletes. If you look at her now, against Medvedeva, Zagitova, etc, you see an athlete with great charisma, personality and fluidity – sure – but with much emptier programs than those of these new generations. Then of course, the fact that she keeps skating is incredible and her results in the last season were even more incredible. As a matter of fact though, she is the symbol of a kind of skating that doesn’t exist anymore. Her quad was the 2007-2010 one, if not the one before that; yet she won a medal in 2014. Afterwards, skating changed: because in 2014, the athlete who did two Double Axels and seven triples won: go and have a look at how many athletes did 2+7, the other girls on the podium included. But after 2014, two Double Axels and seven triples became the norm. The only one who can do one less triple is Osmond, who has great quality and makes up for that with GOE and PCS. Kostner can probably be compared to Osmond, in a way, but Osmond is a skater of this generation, while Carolina belongs to another. And you can notice that if you look at her and the leaders of the current junior field, like Trusova and Shcherbakova. As a matter of fact, she can’t compete.”

(A): “Just like it happens with skiing, the new generation, who learns to ski with a different technique, is on a different level [ndT: Compared to those who learnt with a different system and had to switch to the new one during their career].”

(M): “Of course. To get to the point about the Junior Grand Prix: Russia dominates the ladies’ field, but there could be a surprise in the Final. Eunsoo Lim, from Korea, will make it to the Final; she’s a skater with fantastic elegance, fluidity, with good edges. The only problem is that her programs are a bit empty, but she has a lot of talent. The men’s field didn’t show a lot to be honest, besides a Russian boy who did well in the latest GP, Erokhov, from Tutberidze’s school. Tutberidze had already won another GP with Pitkeev, who recently switched to ice dance. Erokhov has something more when it comes to his jumps, if compared to Pikteev. We will see how far he goes. Not much else to say about the men’s field. In ice dance, a US couple, Carreira/Ponomarenko, who already ended up on the podium at Junior Worlds last year, was expected to dominate and so it happened, but the Russian couples aren’t that far. We expected a bigger difference, but their lead wasn’t big, so there will be quite a fight in the most important events of the season. I have nothing to say about pairs, because they are in a transitional phase, as the best Russian couples split and there are new ones, and those who had already done well last season haven’t started in the best way. Maybe we’ll talk about them later in the season, since there’s not much to talk about now.

Regarding Italy: it went quite well, both in the ladies and men’s field, as we’ve had good results, but we could have done even better. Grassl wasn’t sent to the right GP, and whoever sent him should take a hard look at themselves. He trains in Egna and the second GP was in Salzburg, so competing at “home” there wouldn’t have been bad: he would have had one more week of training, it wasn’t far and it would have saved him from a transoceanic trip at the start of the season. And they skated inside a mall in Australia, during the first JGP, with several problems for many athletes and quite a weird situation. So maybe our best junior athlete – as Rizzo competes among seniors, even though he will probably compete in Egna – should have been treated with greater care. Maybe someone could explain why Grassl was sent to Australia, and if it was his team then it’s their fault, even more so considering that if you had a look at the entries you would have seen some big names there. Amongst those names, one has been of particular interest – he’s been mentioned by Hanyu,  and Hanyu doesn’t mention others without a reason – Krasnozhon. Hanyu said that he had seen this boy try the 4Lo and that he had been motivated by him to do it. Anyway, Grassl did well in Australia, and he might have the potential to reach 190 points already, if not more, we’ll see what he does in the next competition. Among ladies, Lucrezia Beccari did well, a talented girl from Turin who struggled a bit in the short program, but then had a good free, with good skating and jumps. This girl, well, kid, as she will be 14 in December, ended up being the first after the Korean, Japanese, Russian and US girls…and the US girls are not better in terms of jumping technique – they get bigger scores because of their nationality – but honestly they’re not exactly much better than Lucrezia. Then Tornaghi, from Milan, Agorà, also did well. She did better in the short and struggled in the free, but both Tornaghi and Beccari are interesting. They’re both young, so they won’t be able to compete in seniors before 2019-2020, but if they aren’t stopped by puberty in the future, they can reach good results. Folini also did well; he doesn’t have the technical content that Grassl has, but he has the kind of quality in his skating that you can’t find in many other countries at the junior level. He was quite appreciated, but clearly you can’t really be competitive if you don’t have the jumps now. He can partially make up for it with his PCS, but we will talk about technical elements and PCS in the last part of this podcast.

Part 3: Challenger Series

Yuzuru Hanyu updates one of his World Records, Overview of what Challengers Series offered up to now.

Photo Credits to CharlieBenBrown

(A): “We’re almost an hour into the podcast and we just started to get into figure skating’s hot topics,  so now it’s time to talk about the athlete who is currently making history, by breaking record after record: I’m obviously talking about Yuzuru Hanyu. A skater that Ambesi had begun to follow even before he started rising through the ranks. You’ve always praised him so much that in Canada a banner quoted you and your famous “planet Hanyu”  phrase, which I now ask you to repeat; those who are listening will be thrilled about it.”

(M): “That would be “welcome to planet Hanyu, population one: him.”

(A): “Exactly. Let’s say that if skating was going through a 2.0 phase with the new scoring system, Hanyu was the one who brought it into a new phase, a 4.0 with quads the like of which we had never seen before. And so, in Canada during the Challenger Series, in his first competition of the season, he immediately broke a world record. Where can this phenomenon go from here?”

(M): “Wherever his body will allow him to go. He doesn’t hide that he wants to include a 4A in competition. Let’s be clear: Yuzuru can complete 5 quads in training; the one he doesn’t really train is the Quad Flip. He can rotate and land the Axel, maybe with a 30% success rate, but he does it. A Quad Axel, do I need to say more?

In competition, we might see it in the next seasons, if Yuzuru decides to keep skating (after the Olympics). This season he decided to add the 4Lz, which he didn’t execute at ACI, partly because of some physical problems. Although in the Short Program, with a simplified layout that isn’t even the one he had planned, he proved to be the perfect example of technical omnipotence that meets artistic excellence.

What can I add? It was a perfect program: he almost achieved the highest score he could receive. With that layout he could have achieved no more than 115,11: he got 112,72. It’s a record for the Short Program, ice dance included (if considered in terms of % points received vs maximum points he could have achieved): it was previously held by Davis/White, who managed to get to 97,4% of the possible score: 78.89 out of 81. Yuzuru Hanyu: 97,92%.

What can you say about that program? Nothing. It’s the perfect program. He could win the Olympics with a simplified layout, with a 4S as the solo jump in the short program, the 4T3T combo and the 3A in the second half of the program. If you can call that “simple”.

But if he did that, that wouldn’t be Yuzuru: in his head, that 4S needs to be replaced by either a Lutz or a Rittberger. That’s why in practice he tries two different layouts for the Short Program: one with the Lutz and the other with the Rittberger, to achieve an even bigger score.

Truly, does he even need that? Probably not. But that’s how he is: he’s an athlete who likes to push himself to the limit. He is competing against the others, but even more so against himself. And we need to consider how he executes those quads and how they fit into the choreography.

He does them so well he makes them look like triples and he executes them coming from difficult turns and steps. I want you to look at the quads executed by Shoma Uno at the Lombardia Trophy: count the crossovers he does and how much time passes before the Quad Flip, Quad Sal and the first Toe Loop. Then look at Yuzuru Hanyu’s jumps: the difference is huge. We are looking at an athlete who is able to put together almost all the best that figure skating can offer; it’s true that maybe there are some who have something more on spins, see Jason Brown for example, who’s the best spinner in the world… Jason Brown who also has quite a lot of transitions in his programs, but then, sadly he hasn’t been able to land quads so he couldn’t be that competitive against the others. But, today, Hanyu is the perfect synthesis (of art and technique), nothing else to say: seven elements in which the maximum GOE score is +3 GOE, which is incredible. He isn’t the only one who wants to do that. Shoma, Nathan Chen, they will try to do the same; Nathan Chen might even incorporate eight elements that could receive +3 GOE. [t/n: Max here means that they will do 7 or 8 elements which GOE coefficient is 1.0. Only quads and triple Axel can reach a full +3 GOE once the coefficient has been applied]

It’s clear that Hanyu does these elements with different quality: his layout should be 4Lz; 4Lo; then possibly 3F – that could also become 3Lz, we’ll see, but let’s go with 3F – then in the second half: 4S3T, a combination that gave him some problems last season and that he executes easily now; 4TLo3S, an element with huge BV that he can easily complete, solo 4T, 3A2T and 3A as the last jumping pass. This would be an incredible layout, with a BV of 111 points if I remember correctly; with +3 goe on every elements he could reach 140… it’s a whole new level. Then it’s obvious that doing these elements isn’t trivial, and sometimes Yuzuru, when he isn’t in great shape, struggles to complete that layout.

In Canada, last week, he wasn’t in his best shape, and it could be seen from what he did in practice: Hanyu usually executes as many jumps as he can in practice, because that’s how he is. He did his run through – a run through is a practice session with music – in which he skipped some jumps, which isn’t the norm for him. This was because he wasn’t at his best, he had a small physical problem that didn’t allow him to completely show his potential. And even then, without being able to express his full potential, he still almost reached 113 points in the Short Program. For me, we are truly looking at an athlete from another dimension: this is really an athlete that will be remembered in a hundred years as the one who changed skating. It isn’t up for debate here. And I believe he could keep making history, as he is also pushed by some great rivals: Shoma Uno, a Japanese skater from Nagoya, has shown to have qualities to put on the table… maybe more quantity than quality at the moment, but we will talk about this later in the season. And yet, quantity makes a difference.

I remember a beautiful sentence by a dear friend, Silvia Fontana, during the Sochi Olympics: “Figure skating is not supposed to be potato counting”. What did she mean by “potato counting”? Summing triples or quads without looking at quality [on all aspects of skating] and saying, “Okay, this skater did 7 triples, so she wins the competition ‘cause others do less.” For Sotnikova, the case in question back then, quality was there, but that’s another topic. Well, what’s the difference between Hanyu and Shoma or Chen? It’s the quality he executes those quads with. The same can be said for Patrick Chan, another one who - when he rotates his quads - he does so with very high quality, same as Hanyu. Other skaters’ quality is lower, and there we have an issue with GOE. Hanyu’s quad Loop is a jump that, when executed well, is worth +3, no discussion. For what he does before it, for what he does after it. Others get to +3 with a quality that isn’t comparable and here we have a problem about judgement, but we will talk about this later.

So, Hanyu started with a bang. An amazing short program, huge score. A free program he had many difficulties with, but it’s clear his own competition was about the short program. It was there he needed to understand some things, he got his answers. We will see where his level is at the Rostelecom Cup, the first GP stage.

His goal is to aim for the perfect season, by winning again the Grand Prix Final, by conquering again the second gold medal at the Olympics - rare event in the men’s field, we need to go back to a skater from another era, a skater Hanyu knows well and whom he quotes often, but we will talk about this another time - and we’ll see if he will attend the World Championships. We hope it will be so, since Worlds are in Milan, Italy, and Worlds with Hanyu raise their profile by quite a lot.

What everybody could notice is how many athletes are already in very good shape - across all disciplines. Hanyu for what he did in his short program, Shoma for what he did at Lombardia in both programs, many ladies: Medvedeva got close to 230, Zagitova at her senior debut with 220, Marin Honda at her own debut with almost 200. And in her case, she was at Salt Lake City. Had she competed at Lombardia Trophy, her scores wouldn’t be far from 215 either. Wakaba Higuchi, another Japanese lady, reached a personal best not far from 220. Let’s say Japanese and Russian athletes did start at a high level already. Also because some of these athletes are not sure they will be on the Olympic Team. They have to win out over a highly competitive field internally, so for them, these months will be hard ones. What’s the problem? They risk to be burnt out come December, when the main competitions - Grand Prix Final and the Nationals - to decide who makes the Olympic team will be held. Then, if you go over that bear trap (more on the ladies’ side than men’s), you have one month and half to train and practice in peace, to regroup and recharge and plan your Olympics approach. But if you don’t go over that bear trap, your season is basically over.

Japan has six athletes for two spots. It means that among Higuchi, Honda, Mihara, Shiraiwa, Miyahara, Hongo and there’s also Sakamoto, there are five of them who will remain home. Incredible.

For Russian ladies, it’s not much different. What’s the point there? There’s a school, as we were saying before, that at this moment is displaying superior quality, Tutberidze’s school. Medvedeva and Zagitova directly on the Olympic team, and then Tsurskaya. The others are behind. Radionova - we saw her at the Nepela Trophy - is a skater in big difficulties right now. She lacks quality on jumps to be competitive with others. On skating, she has improved greatly. As usual, she is a great interpreter and she has good musicality, but on jumps she is not on the same level as others. She jumps just the same as when she was Moscow’s little queen at 11. Years passed, though. Back then, Medvedeva - both of them were born in 1999, Radionova in the first semester, Medvedeva in the second one - couldn’t compete with her. Now positions have been reversed. The Nepela Trophy has been singular for this reason indeed: Medvedeva dominated the competition with Radionova left behind by tens and tens of points. And you know who is the only athlete who won a competition over Medvedeva in Seniors up to now? Radionova. In a Rostelecom Cup a couple of years ago. Right now, Radionova is 50 points behind the best Medvedeva. Tuktamysheva is someone who has the jumping quality to make Tutzberidze’s athletes’ lives hard – if we speak about jumps alone. But she needs to nail two triple Axels in her programs to have a chance. Which is a pity, because she is a skater who could express a greater quality on skating itself [had she gotten programs good enough to bring out those qualities]. We will see Maria Sotskova, now training mate of Radionova. Or rather, Radionova became Sotskova’s teammate when she switched coaching team in the past months, to Buyanova: the one who helped Sotnikova reach her Olympics title. But historically, Sotskova has something less than Medvedeva. They know each other well, since Sotskova’s date of birth is in the first semester of 2000, and Medvedeva has a technical consistency that is way above Sotskova’s.

Pogorilaya is a skater who could try and be a danger to Tutberidze’s skaters. Maybe not to Medvedeva, but to the others. Although, even Zagitova may be out of reach. But she is behind Eteri’s athletes in different things. She is weaker on spins. There are less transitions in her programs. Probably in terms of scenic presence, Pogorilaya has something more, but you can’t win events with that.

So, in Russia, there’s a fight too for those Olympic spots, but it’s an easier battle to read. In Japan, it is mayhem. In Russia, Medvedeva and Zagitova - barring injuries - have a good margin on the others.

All these (Russian) athletes have shown to be in top condition since the start, never before have we seen ladies get to 220 in September. And the same can be said for Japanese skaters, who get to to 216, 217 points like Higuchi did. Higuchi, who had some suspect rotations at Lombardia Trophy – probably technical panel was quite generous there – but her quality as a skater is above any discussion; contrary to the quality of her programs’ construction and layouts, but that’s another topic.

Carolina Kostner’s opponents are these girls. An epic challenge. Probably her goal is not to win against the best Russian or Japanese skaters. Her goal is to show that even now, over 30 years old, she is still a competitive athlete, one with the longest career, and who can skate in the last group of an Olympic free skate event. Along with skaters that have (technically) a gear more today, but that if we compare what Kostner showed when she was a junior and what they do today, their technical level is not that far apart, this must be said.

So, Alessandro, a lot of quality in the beginning of the season, a lot of quads… We saw Nathan Chen land a quad Rittberger, becoming the first man to land five different quads in his career (in different competitions). Who would say (it was going to happen) three or four years ago? But it happened. Shoma Uno put a quad Salchow in his free program, so he is at four different quads landed, only Lutz and Axel missing. Hanyu will get to four with Lutz. Jin Boyang, another quad master, is working on the Rittberger, which he tried once already - without success - last season. He has already a Lutz of greatest quality, he has Salchow, Toe Loop. In the end, it will be four different quads for him too, so in a free program he may go for 5 or 6 quads total. This is the “Quads Era” and those who aren’t able to keep up with the pace do get left behind from a great distance. These skaters are writing new pages of figure skating history, it’s a new era. The era Plushenko would have liked to be in.

Plushenko said, two years ago: “Do you see that one? That one is Hanyu. I’d like to go on so to take part in the 2018 Olympics and compete with him, but that one will go for four quads.” And back then we all thought, “Yes, he will do four quads total” but no, Hanyu will go for four different quads. Plushenko did understand that because he saw him during practices for summer shows. And Plushenko on his side affirmed he wanted to go to Pyeongchang with his two quads, Toe Loop and Salchow, and see what happens. Then, sadly, age and injuries made it impossible; but Plushenko - in the same way as Carolina Kostner - is a skater from another figure skating, a figure skating that doesn’t exist anymore. A figure skating where the footwork is nowhere comparable to what top skaters do now; and in this sense, Plushenko was already a step behind Yagudin in 2002. Of course, Plushenko did live through extraordinary seasons. He won the 2006 Olympics by a landslide, he is the moral winner of the 2010 Olympics, no doubt, but his skating is not what skating is now. He’d love to live in the “Quads Era”, because the young Plushenko was an athlete who tried everything in practice. We saw it in Italy too, when he came here: Flip, Lutz, etc… Flip wasn’t Plushenko’s jump, but he tried it anyway, with disastrous results - all of Mishin’s athletes usually have a bad Flip, it doesn’t matter the number of rotations - but Plushenko didn’t go on developing those jumps because he didn’t need them.

Once Yagudin’s era ended, Plushenko’s opponents were Joubert - who had huge limits on different aspects of figure skating: he had huge charisma, but his spins were weak and his skating quality wasn’t comparable to Plushenko, who wasn’t the number one there to start with - and then there was Lambiel, who was second to none if we speak about quality of skating, back then, but triple Axel was his nemesis and without the triple Axel you can’t go anywhere. Of course, he won World Championships and Olympic medals, but the best Plushenko was on another dimension (compared to him). So Plushenko, because of his opponents back then, never really tried to develop some of those jumps in competition, even if he had the skills to try. Contrary to now, when we have this incredible evolution that will probably end with Hanyu trying a quad Axel.

What is the consequence of all this? Changes in rules, right?" (laughing)

(A): “Exactly! Earlier I want to provoke you, we talked of the many records, these records are possible because since 2002 - after the Salt Lake City scandal - the changes in the scoring system allowed for a more “mathematical” kind of judging. In a way, scores can be almost seen like seconds in a time-trial. In the old system we only had a 6.0, so with so many quads, how many 6.0 could we find in today’s programs?

(M): “On a clean program, it’s a concrete hypothesis to have many 6.0’s. Hanyu’s Short Program at the Autumn Classic is a program worthy of 6.0, on both technical and artistic scores, we’d need to go back to the Bolero skated by Torvill & Dean. So yes, we’d see some 6.0, but let’s not forget that when you do many quads, chances of making mistakes are high. This is true for everybody. Really, 100% clean programs with three or four quads are not that common. We still have to go back to Hanyu and what he did at the last World Championships.

Part 4: ISU Scoring System

How to changes rules to try and reach a balance between Technical Scoring and “Artistic” One?

(M) What you are saying introduces us to an important theme: actual scoring system. We read a lot about it in the last few weeks; it seems ISU is thinking about new rules; I have the feeling that they are thinking down the wrong path.

I think that what you need to change to balance the technical and "artistic" (or PCS) parts of a score is pretty easy. I've the feeling ISU is going towards a wrong direction.

Let's explain what's happening. It seems they are working to lower the base values of jumps: quads would have less value, but also triples and all other kinds of jumps. According to the ISU, this will bring the technical part of the score and the artistic one to more equal ground.

But that's not what will happen. Friends ran simulations of last World Championships’ results (ndT, see here), applying the criteria as proposed by some ISU officials: the final result would have remained the same and the highest technical score would have still remained well over 110. Translation: that is not the way to intervene.

What's the real actual issue today? It is that we see programs with 5 quads automatically given 90+ points on PCS. This is not acceptable. Program Components don't have to follow the number of quads you do. It's not written anywhere. Bring the rulebook to me and make me see where they put this rule! In that case, I raise the white flag and say "You are right." And in that case, don't give 90-92, let's give 100 and maybe an extra 5 points more as bonus, so we are all happy.

Shoma Uno at Lombardia Trophy scores 92 (on PCS). We were talking about it earlier: go and see what Shoma Uno does before his quads. Go and see how many crossovers there are, how long his setting up for a quadruple is. How many empty choreographic parts there are. Does he execute five quads? Perfect: you reward him with the quads' base value. If that quad is a technically good quad, you reward him with GOE – and here we open another new storyline that we may go into another time – but it shouldn't be that a skater good at waving their arms around automatically gets 92, and I invite you to look at what Shoma Uno does with his feet and to compare him with others. Because then, if Uno Shoma gets 92, Patrick Chan should start at 120.

So, here, the issue is linked to judgement. It's right and good to reward a technically strong athlete on TES, it makes no sense to overpay him on PCS too if there's no actual reason to do so. And it's here that the actual scoring system is breaking down.

Then it's obvious that when you have athletes like Hanyu, Uno, Chen that plan to present free programs with base values of around 110, programs that may reach 140 on TES when GOE get added, you have to change something in the scoring system. But what's the simple thing anyone would do? Change the PCS coefficient factor. Said this way, it may seem a difficult thing to do, but it's actually extremely easy. In a free program, instead of multiplying judges' scores by 2, you multiply them by 2.2 or 2.4, evaluating which is the best option. In that way, artistic score – even if PCS shouldn't be labelled as artistic score since it is more complex than that – gets enhanced and you can eventually reach a balance between TES and PCS.

If you lower the base values of jumps by 7, 8, or even 10% instead, it does change nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because in any case everybody would be pushed to execute those quads––they still give you more points. Who would to do a triple lutz if they can get almost double the points with a quad lutz? If I have the skill to try a quad, I would work to accomplish that.

So whoever says, "let's lower quad BV’s so we have fewer quads and to give more importance to the artistic part," they have understood nothing because at the end what it does matter is to win. Athletes will keep on planning jumps with the highest BV available to them. They would not go and plan a triples-only program, saying, "they will pay me on PCS this way and I will get to podium!"

They would still see podium from miles afar, if they are lucky.

I'm baffled by the fact that this concept has not been clearly understood. Not to mention we also need to distinguish among different disciplines. Men's discipline has some problems. Ladies' discipline has some other problems. Pairs' have some other ones again.

And you want to lower jumps BV for all three disciplines? It's wrong, it makes no sense.

I should show with numbers – but to speak about numbers in a podcast may not be the easiest thing to do – how wrong this path proposed by the ISU is. On the other hand, they are the ones making the rules, but I think they should consult external people, maybe experts in the math field. People who can analyze for them various scenarios and to study how to intervene. And I'm sure anyone would say: make the second part of the score higher, make the coefficient factor bigger.

Lowering the jumps' value, we risk to impoverish skating in the future, compared to skating in the past.

If you make PCS higher, you can still compare the TES side across different years and you just need to reapply the coefficient factor on PCS scores from the past, and you could still say things like "Yes, Hanyu in 2015 would have gotten a higher score than Cha in 2021" for example. But if you change the technical elements’ base values in such a big way, everything crumbles down. Does it make sense, or is it worth it? In my opinion, it doesn't.

Ladies' discipline: what kind of modification is needed? It's super easy. In ladies' SP, there are many ladies going over 40 TES. Why "40"? 40 is the threshold, the highest PCS a lady (but a pair’s couple too) can get in an SP, while for men it is 50, but it should be raised to 60.

That 40 could be raised to 50. Why 50? Because it's probable that soon there will be more athletes who are able to land a 3A. But Medvedeva, who is without doubt the leader of the movement right now, doesn't reach 50 on TES. She isn't even close to reaching it. She is always over 40, but she doesn't go up to 50. But if we want to give PCS more value, I think it's fair to put their limit to 50.

I want to add an important bit. Miss Carolina Kostner, who has been one of the leaders of the field on PCS in the last 10 years, for sure, has an average of 55 on TES in the Free Skate since post-Vancouver (2009-10) season. Top skaters right now all clear the 70 threshold. Miss Carolina Kostner with the current scoring system has always landed on the podium bar one event. What does it mean? That evidently the scoring system isn't that bad – at least for Ladies' Free Skate. For SP there may be a problem.

But that aside, in my opinion, we can push beyond, we can raise PCS for SP and FP both, it would be okay. The key would always be to judge those components right. Because if you give bonus on some components to athletes that don't deserve to reach 9 or 8.5, then you can spin and change every scoring system but you will be back to square 1 in no time.

I don't believe it's a problem in the rules in and of itself. It's a problem of the rules' application. And this is the same also for GOE. As of today, GOE has seven grades of judgement, from -3 to +3, 0 included. The fact that they want to bring it to eleven grades, from -5 to +5, 0 included, it's a positive thing in my opinion. But then you have to apply those GOE in a correct way. It's not like a program can be +5, +5, +5, +5 on everything. I don't believe in absolute perfection, so once again, what's important is to give the correct evaluations.

If the actual system has degenerated and if there are talks of changing it now, it's because in some cases they have lost their bearings. Some athletes have been overscored, and now it's hard to go back. As an aside, a thing I can't bear is how if someone is given 9.25 for Skating Skills, then it is 9 for Transition, 9.25 for Performance, 9.30 for Composition and 9.30 for Interpretation. But it shouldn't be so. It can't be this way.

Medvedeva can't have a higher Skating Skill score than Kostner. This is objective. Because of speed, depth of edges and much more. But at same time, if we look at Transitions, there are four points between Medvedeva and Kostner. For me it would be right to have 10 on one component and 6 on another, 7.5 on another one and so on. It's absurd all components are always in the same corridor, because that is not what happens on ice for almost everybody. And it's here the issues start arising.

So, even before talking about how to revolutionize the scoring system, let's try to start evaluating athletes for what they are doing.

In my opinion, everyone should do a self examination and analyse where we are now. Then I'm the first to say, let's raise the PCS coefficient factors! In the men’s field, it’s 50 max in the SP at the moment? Let's bring it to 60! Aside: Hanyu and Fernandez already went over 60 on TES, let's not forget. Free Program? To 120? That's good! That's good! There will be athletes anyway who can go to 130 on TES, but it will be more balanced. But if, then, the athlete who is really strong on that component is not properly rewarded and you give him the same score as the other one who does five quads with little more, then what does it change? What could it change? Nothing.

That 120 on PCS would be the same as 100 today. Changing BV on jumps and not touching anything else, would change nothing all the same. Until you change how the scores are given and if you don't start giving each one his own due [t/n, in Italian: "date a Cesare quel che è di Cesare" - "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's" – a widely used figure of speech meaning to give each person his/her due] on components score, we will always be back to the starting point.

So, what is the conclusion? That we are talking about hot air. Empty talk. Because first we need a self examination on how rules are actually applied, and everything else will follow as consequence. And for sure that consequence will be to raise the PCS coefficient factors.

We can speak also about Pairs. In a season where Pairs' SP has a back outside Death Spiral and a lift from Group 5, those who can also do a triple lutz side by side and a triple lutz throw can get––if GOE is all +3––up to 50 points on TES. But only if you have all these elements [ndT: those mandatory elements are with the highest BV], and as you all know for sure, required elements in Pairs’ SP change from year to year. For example, last year the lift had to be from Group 5, while this season it isn't from Group 5, so it has a lower base value. That aside, in Pairs – same as Ladies – it's reasonable to bring PCS to 50. Because there are many couples that have cleared 40 on TES in the past, so the actual coefficient is under pressure.

But I do repeat, results will change only if athletes are evaluated for what they do. If then the one who does five quads is also the best one on the "artistic" side, then hats off, he is the one who deserve to win by a landslide and it's fine so.

But you can't come here and say that Nathan Chen––an extraordinary athlete in many aspects, in my opinion––can reach 90 on PCS, so 9 on average, as of today. Almost 110 if factor were 2.4 in an FS. Because––and it's again objective––it's not what he is showing right now on ice. It's impossible to see Patrick Chan scored lower than Shoma Uno. Anyone who has seen those athletes skate live realizes the difference between them. On everything. It's true, the latter jumps more––not better but more––and then he brings home more on TES. But then, if Shoma Uno goes to 92 on PCS, then Patrick Chan should go up to––I don't say to 120 as I affirmed before––but at least 110, then.

The problem is only this one. I hope I've been clear, because I’ve read many analyses about this, some of which are complete nonsense, some others better focused and argued, but the magic wand is in the judges' hands. And in those who supervise the judges' work. If what is happening now is okay with everybody, and indeed ISU deems some athletes worthy of systematic 9s, then there is no solution to change things. And it will always be the ones doing five quads winning competitions, or those doing three to five quads plus two 3A. No one else. Jason Brown, who is an extraordinary skater in various aspects, will never win a competition. If you instead start judging PCS for what they are, and you reward Jason Brown for what he does indeed, which is a lot undoubtedly, maybe Jason Brown will be able to compete with those doing two or three quads. In any case it would be hard for him to compete with those doing five quads. We had a demonstration of this in recent time. Jason Brown did a good Lombardia Trophy, all in all. I repeat: Scores at Lombardia Trophy were inflated beyond any reason. Max Aaron – cult skater thanks to some peculiar and debatable programs choices recently, like a Footloose he then decided to quickly abandon – with a quad Toe Loop and Salchow scored more than Jason Brown at Lombardia Trophy. Max Aaron who competed at Salt Lake City in a competition where PCS were less inflated than at Lombardia. It's clear that quadruple jumps' weight is a lot, now.

It's clear that had Jason Brown scored 95 on PCS in the actual system and Max Aaron 60, which is what he is worth as of now – with all due respect to him – then Jason Brown could compete even if Max Aaron puts down five quads between the short and the free programs. But only if PCS scoring is correct. And this is valid for top skaters, but also in cascade for skaters on all levels: second-tier skaters, third ones, juniors...

That's all.

I think this talk will go on, and it's good that the ISU is trying to understand how to intervene. But to me, ISU should help others, help itself – to quote a cult sports movie, Jerry Maguire. A quote to say that ISU needs to ask for help from external people. To understand what kind of modification to do. To develop a software to understand the real progression of scores, how many athletes did go over the determined threshold. For example, in the modern era post-Vancouver, seven athletes in the men’s field went over 100 on TES in FS. It's easy to tell their names, more or less they are all outstanding aces. Then let's ask ourselves if, for those seven, it's worth revolutionising everything. Maybe yes, maybe no, but let's do an analysis.

In the ladies' field, perfection on PCS is 80. Do you know how many athletes did go over 80 on TES? One. Evgenia Medvedeva in a competition that is midway between competition and show––the last World Team Trophy. I've no doubt she can reach 80 on TES in one of the next competitions too, but at the moment there's only her. In the future, Zagitova, too, for sure, but right now it's only Medvedeva.

For pairs, 8 times a pair went over 75 on TES. No one reached 80, which is again the highest PCS they can get. So there, the system works, why go and change it? Do you want to change it because this discipline is called "pattinaggio artistico" (t/n figure skating is literally "pattinaggio di figura", but italian name for the sport is "pattinaggio artistico", "artistic skating") and, according to someone on top, there is little artistry right now? Then okay, let's change the PCS coefficient factor but let's leave the jump BV’s untouched. You can't suppress technical development. It would mean going backwards.

Also because we can't forget one important detail––that many seem to forget. After the half-scandal of Vancouver 2010 with Lysacek defeating Plushenko, also due to Plushenko's own demerits because he needed to do little to win that gold medal, ISU decided to incentivize quad attempts. How? By increasing BV. So you increase it in 2010––correctly to incentivize technical development––and in 2018 you lower it because, according to you, technical development has put artistic growth in jeopardy? For me this is folly.

Do something so that the artistic component gets valued for what it is––at best raise its value––and leave everything else untouched. It seems the simplest solution to implement to me. I don't know if it will be the path ISU takes, someone will listen to this podcast and get angry and shout about "lese majesty" and "who the fuck is this Ambesi who comes here telling us about these things?" And I do invite Italian Figure Skating Federation’s officials to come to a round table discussion, me alone and ten of them, on numbers from the last ten years. Let's see who takes up the challenge to show, numbers in hand, which is the path to follow. Then maybe they will end up on the same side as me, and I'll be happy because it would mean "Italians do it better" and they understand this topic better than others.

(A): "And with this gauntlet thrown by Ambesi, we can end our first podcast with a bang."

And here you are the full translation of the first podcast.

As we already wrote in our introduction post, Max and Angelo will also answer questions from fans in future podcasts, so if you have any question you’d like for them to cover, drop it in our inbox and we will forward them.

[captainkurosolaire]

In-depth Profile, Lord Shiro Elune

(Not really a face-claim but close representation is above.) Note:Stolen/taken from @subetei-noykin

IDENTIFICATION —

“We all seek something, the difference is what you do to reach out for it.”

Full Name: Shiro Elune

Pronunciation: She-ar-o El-une

Pseudonym: Man in the White Suit

Nicknames: ‘King’(Like the Chess Piece), Lord.

Age: Thirty-Eight Cycles

Name Day: 13th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Birthplace: Ishgard, The Pillars

Guardian: Rhalgr, the Destroyer

Residence: Diamond Sky - Royal House of Elune

REFERENCES —

Motto:  “War has always been waged on foolish self-preservation and on every playing field there has always been a commander more superior and more intelligent who knows how to lead the pawns to the very end. But only through accepting orders.”

Theme Song:

Face Claim: None, created to be the polar opposite of Kuro in every design and way as a natural born rival.

STATS —

“You can all wither away for all I care.”

Gender: Male

Race: Keeper, Miqo’te (Nunh)

Height: Six fulms

Weight: One-hundred seventy-five ponze

Eyes: Piercing Ice Blue

Hair: Pure White

Skin: Onyx-Skinned

Build: Athletically Fit

Scars: None

Tattoos/Marks: Heritage Markings from his blood-lion on his face to indicate he is a successor to his nobility claim.

At First Glance (+5)

A Noble: From just the way he walks it’s dignified and self-important he doesn’t carry a hold of the stress on him because he has little attachment, or has the reasoning to even express it because there are so little things that met meaningful to him.

Calculating: Usually, he holds a test judging people by the act of their character without even them realizing it upon the first reaction and attempts to learn what makes them tick trying to identify if they’re worth his time or they’ll grant him only foreseeable headaches. He usually can identify from the slightest change in someone's reaction, express, body language if someone is up to something and later on when he has an idea of who they are can piece together if they’re acting strangely than normal always staying alert.

Rich: Always he’s usually found often in some type of classy fashion never going out with any messy hairs or grooming himself and dressing in a presentable white tuxedo or dress-suit and usually some jewelry will be held on him.

Cold: Just being around him because of his aspected attunement with ice he’s not the easiest to be around without feeling a few shivers or chills especially when and if he lowers the temperature on purpose. He’s not afraid to be blunt either in personality and will call out anyone for anything that is blatantly stupid or a one-minded thought. He has little to no patience for those who can’t be tasked with simple reasoning or those who are headstrong and the type to charge into something without being prepared, endangering more than their own lives but everyone in accord.

Powerful: Despite his punchable persona he’s very surrounded by a gift of knowledge that has been harnessed and forged into raw power that’s he’s gained over his entire life-cycle undertaking being an absolute ruthless villain and murder to baring curses placed on him to undertake the learning of Voidal Magick all furthering himself and submitting himself as an Alpha to gain enough power in order to always be able to protect his loved ones, no matter the threat. He doesn’t ever seem to fully not be in a situation where he isn’t guarded or held in an internal and external defensive shell but because of that he’s hard to ever get him to open up or loosen up which doesn’t make him anyone’s favorite social pick or choice for inviting to parties unless they’re Ishgard Ballrooms or something where his proceeds and donations can go a long way.

FACTS —

“Stake your pride against mine, but be warn for I have little else left.”

”

Occupation: Lord Elune, White Drago’s Pirate Captain, Brother.

Specialties: Noble Style, Rapier, Jousting, Dragon Riding, Diamond Ice Mastery, Necromancy, Time Magick, Mhachi, Voidal Control, High Intellect, Calculating

Skills: Sewing, Ishgardian Chess, Knowledge, Booksmarts, Cooking, Astrology.

PROFICIENCY —

“What is it that allows your heart to even beat? To sustain you and fulfill your longing existence?”

Education: SIlv’a Elune (Deceased Father) Self Taught, Otherworldly Mentors and Forbidden Books.

Favored Weapon(s): Mol’usa, Rapier.

Secondary Weapon(s): Gemstone Pocketwatch

Magic Abilities: Various Wielding and Manipulation and Control

Magic Strengths: Various Wielding and Manipulation and Control

RELATIONS —

“There is little I wish to uphold, but that doesn’t mean in the slightest. I’m not searching for something to change that.”

Sexual Preference: Heterosexual

Romantic Identification: Monogamous

Relationship Status: Single

Sweet on: Moli, Rose

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Allies: Ishgard, Goldbrand(Few), Shadow Lurkers, Crew of Undead.

Enemies: Sea Lurkers, Kuro Solaire

FAMILY —

“Those who are self-sacrificial, those are the only ones that can be deemed precisely Noble.”

Maternal: Xusa Moshantu (Deceased)

Parental: Silv’a Elune (Predecessor, Deceased)

Mentor: Various, mainly. Silv’a Elune

Associates: Goldbrand, Elune Staff, Shadow Lurkers

Ayla Moenwyb (Ally, Respected)

Sha Dragonheart (Ally, Brother, Brother-In-law, Former Elune Knight, Best-Friend) Moli Moshantu(Half-Sister, Adored, Protected) Glyda Rose(Respected, Student, Promising, Valuable)

MENTALITY —

“I require no use for those who can’t stand for themselves.”

Social Level: Cold, Isolated, Preserved, Prideful, Calculated, Intelligent, Snoody, Proper.

Optimistic View(s): Refinding something to kindle a purpose, preventing his only sister to never be caught in his trouble since their upbringing was more than unpleasant.

Pessimistic View(s): Surrounding his-self with yes-men and those who have no purpose isn’t something he’llI find worthy to follow or even aid in. It’s only those with a noble cause or potential will ever be worth, all the rest will fall off the board naturally.

One  Positive Personality Trait: He’s a genius even though it can be unbearable for him to hear it from him personally or see it the way he conveys information and can analyze the slightest twitch is remarkable he’s a useful asset in any crew, community, meeting. 

One Negative Personality Trait: Nearly impossible for many to have him open up to them or be able to tolerate his constant arrogant and pompous thoughts.

·One Personality Warning: When it comes to the very limited and selective few he cares about, there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do in order to maintain that over them.

Random Quirk: He’s a Scrooge.

Hobbies: Sewing, Reading, Navigating, Chess, Being an ass.

Addictions: Gaining a new understanding of something daily

Habits: Hands behind his back, proper stances, cupping his chin in thought, pacing.

Pleasures: Quietness, Alone, Stargazing, Drawing, Sewing, Love-making, domineering sex, mental control.

Appreciates (List 5+)

Peppers Calamari Pizza Spicy Foods   Gold/(Gil) Women Wine Golden Azeyma Roses Skulls Books Magic Challenges Frosted-Grape Wine Rain Pain Au'ra Toothpicks Ships Class Losing Culture Tribes Dravaina Hinterlands Coerthas Ishgard Nobility Pasta Dragons Winning Rivals Pets Love Shiva Ice Skating Learning Teaching Chess Crew Danger Sophistication Duels Knowledge Freedom Strong Maps Scrolls Respect Poetry Goblins Music Piano Harp Violin Ishgardian Chess Symmetry Astrology Science Triad

Dislikes (List 5+) Unpredictable Unearned Authority Unclean Filthy No-self worth Helplessness Fools Weaklings Disrespect Losing Free-Spirited Sociality Swines Stupidity Wastelands Swamps Wenches Lalafell Confidence Discrimination Kittens Beggars Praise

Strengths (List 5+)

Patient Outstanding Mentor Loyal to those he cares about Intellect Sophistication Tactician Knowledge Nobility Heritage Magic Can be honorable

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Courage Compassion Love Inner-Darkness / Bringing others darkness out of them and growing it. Power-Hungry Bright, Gentle Souls.

Fears (List 5+)

Returning his state of mind and losing his chance to train Rose. Being unable to protect his sister, Moli. Not able to be there for Sha To forsake his pride. For the Sea Lurkers to destroy those few who matter to him. Swimming, he’s cursed in a way that prevents him from ever entering deep waters or he’ll drown and be taken down as if he has spiritual anchors weighing him down to the bottom.

FAVORITES ––

“One hundred and seventy-four, The exact number of different moves I could have used to prevail against you.” Favorite Food(s): Calamari Pizza, Saucey Foods, Spicy. Favorite Drink(s): Port, Sparkling Wine, High-Quality Juice Favorite Scent(s): Flowers, Camping, Outdoor Favorite Colors: White, Diamond Blue, Pink

TRIVIA - - None currently.

OOC -

Server: Balmung

Timezone: CT

Mun: Male

Experience: Roleplay Experience of 18+ years. Writes in any format, matches length and complexity where possible. Will scene In-Game (When possible), Discord and other mediums as requested, Dungeon Master for a small discord community, Game Designer, Concept Creator.

Type of RP: Any/All, Mature and R-Rated themes included. Long-term Story-lines or One-shot scenes. Enjoys interacting with Canon and OC alike.

Looking for: Non-imbeciles, (IC) -OOC-> Friends, Rivals, Royals, Those with a self-worth or destiny to follow. Some to show him, he’s in the wrong to label everyone right away moronic. Tagged by: @aylamoenwyb Tagging: @fair-fae @ayane-mayuzuma @shadragonheart @parvacake @tessariel-aerlinn @huntress-ffxiv @captain-rummidew @littlestcreampuff @bigmickgaming @robotprinzess Or anyone, sorry if forgot tags still getting the hang of this but know you aren’t forgotten!