#using both those tags is extra appropriate for this

[augusnippets]

Prompts are out!

plain text and "rules" under the cut

path of hurt:

day 1: gaslighting/hypnosis/brainwashing

day 4: amputation/degloving/vivisection

day 7: waterboarding/drowning/choking

day 10: execution/fake execution/begging for mercy

day 13: drugging/poisoning/cannibalism

day 16: humiliation/dehumanisation/conditioning

day 19: collared/branded/chipped

day 22: captivity/recapture/tearful goodbye

day 25: intimate whumper/sadistic whumper/reluctant whumper

day 28: mind control/body control/betrayal

bonus prompts: forced to watch/whipping/stalked

path of comfort:

day 2: platonic bathing/hair care/make-up

day 5: drunk caretaking/concussed caretaking/feverish caretaking

day 8: reunion/found family/friends

day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound

day 14: toys/gifts/celebration

day 17: forgiveness/grace/resolving a misunderstanding

day 20: homemade meal/quenched thirst/favourite treat

day 23: massage/wiping away tears/gentle touch

day 26: nightmare/warm blanket/snuggling

day 29: singing/first words/inside jokes

bonus prompts: tending to nonhuman whumpee's nonhuman parts/protective caretaker/whumpee wearing caretaker's clothes

secret third path — whumperless whump:

day 3: thunderstorm/blizzard/heat wave

day 6: car accident/plane crash/ship wreck

day 9: hypothermia/overheating/dehydration

day 12: lost/trapped/avalanche

day 15: food poisoning/starvation/throwing up

day 18: apocalypse/infection/self administered medicine

day 21: delirium/vertigo/hallucinations

day 24: animal attack/bear trap/land mine

day 27: migraines/chronic pain/phantom pains

day 30: self-harm/addiction/overdose

bonus prompts: flashbacks/relapse/medical complications

day 31 — bonus day :) write whatever you feel like writing today or have a nice day of rest

AuguSnippets is an event that encourages the short and sweet of the whump genre. Ideally, your drabbles would be under 500 or even under 100 words, maybe even just a dialogue prompt. This, however, does not mean I won't reblog longer prompt fills! Don't stress too much on that limit. I just think it's sometimes nice to challenge yourself to write shorter drabbles, and it can also work as a very good exercise to write daily or semi-daily, and it doesn't need a lot of prep.

As for tagging your work, please use the appropriate trigger warnings. This is so everyone can stay safe and avoid potentially triggering topics while participating. Also, if your work is nsfw, please don't forget to tag it as mature content! If your work is not tagged properly, I won't be able to reblog it! Thank you!

Our special tag will be "#augusnippets day [x]". On the first day that would be "#augusnippets day 1". This is so I and others can find your work easier! You can also tag the blog, that's an even more surefire way to get me to notice your prompt fill :)

Is this a writing only event?

Yeah, this one is exclusively writing focused.

Do I have to use the special tag or tag this blog?

Not if you don't want to get featured on this blog :) It's just so I can find your work easier and reblog it here! If that's not something you're interested in, just scribble away without it.

Is the "under 500" a hard limit for the word count?

No, but I encourage everyone to try and keep to it in the spirit of this event.

Can I submit nsfw works?

Yes! Just please tag it properly :)

Can I mix and match the prompts from different paths?

Yes! Have fun!

What do I need to do to get the completionist badge?

Either you need to complete one whole path, or complete 10 prompt fills altogether while mixing and matching. Those who complete all 30 days (and maybe even the bonus day) will get something extra special!

Can I write fandom related things?

Yes! This event is both for original characters and fandom related writing.

Will there be an AO3 collection?

Yes! Here

[scoonsalicious]

2.2 Major*

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit sexual content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (f-receiving), fingering, edging, squirting)

Word Count: 2.9k

Previously On...: You told Lily off, Bucky offered you a ride home on his bike.

A/N: So, my job decided not to renew my contract for the upcoming year, so I've been pissed off, annoyed and frustrated. Please enjoy this extra part today because I could use the extra love <3. Also, it's smut!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

God, you thought as you held on to Bucky a little tighter than was probably appropriate, he felt fucking amazing. Like a marble statue of a Greek god, come to life. You honestly could not believe how well this evening had ended up going, even after your final discussion with Lily. You’d been worried, after you’d said what you said to her, that Bucky would be upset with you for how you talked to his best friend but you quickly realized that, if he was the kind of guy who agreed with her line of thinking, well, then he wasn’t the kind of guy you would be interested in getting to know better, anyway. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be the case. 

It was colder than you expected for an early September night as you whipped toward the City, and you found yourself pressing into Bucky’s back. You’d been a little disappointed when you saw he’d had a motorcycle instead of a car– it was impossible to actually hold a conversation with him on a bike– but you were more than happy to snuggle up to him like this, instead, and judging by the way his abdominal muscles contracted when you rested your cheek against his upper back, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

It was about a forty-five minute drive from the bar where you’d met the Avengers to your condo building, and by the time you reached the city limits, it had begun to drizzle. Once Bucky pulled up to your building, it was raining in full force, and the two of you were soaked.

Once you’d both gotten off the bike and secured the helmets, you made a mad dash to the awning of your building. “I’m so sorry,” you said, laughing at how ridiculous you both must look. “If I had known it was going to open up like this, I would have insisted on taking the train.”

Bucky moved a strand of rain-slicked hair away from your face. “I would still have insisted on driving you,” he said with a smile.

You both stared at each other for a moment, and then spoke at the same time: “Can I walk you up?” Bucky asked at the same time you said “Would you like to come up?” You both chuckled.

“I would feel awful, sending you right back out into the rain,” you said as you let the doorman hold your building’s front door open for you both. “Come inside and warm up a little; dry off.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, following you into the elevator and you noticed him trying, so hard, not to notice the way your erect nipples strained against the wet fabric of your shirt as it clung to your chest.

When you reached your floor, he trailed behind you, gently holding onto the hem of your jacket as he followed you to your door, as if he were afraid of losing you in the hallway. You tried to mentally run through what your condo had looked like before you’d left for the evening. The cleaners had come today while you were at work, and you were fairly sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying around. 

You unlocked the door and slipped inside, Bucky close behind. Locking the door behind you, you turned to face him, watching as he studied the main living room of your home. “This is nice,” he said, taking everything in. 

“Thanks.” You slipped out of your jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. “Let me get you a towel,” you offered, moving toward your linen closet. 

No sooner had you opened the closet door than the lights in your apartment went out. “Doll?” you heard Bucky call to you from the living room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you called back, grateful that your emergency candles were also located in the linen closet. “I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows of your living room. “Looks like a good chunk of the neighborhood’s out, too,” he said. “Glad we got off that elevator when we did, otherwise, we’d be stuck in there instead of here.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you brought out the towels and a handful of candles. The idea of being trapped in an elevator for an undetermined amount of time with a man this beautiful would not necessarily have been a bad thing. “Here,” you said, handing Bucky some of the candles. “Will you help me light these?”

You and Bucky worked companionably for the next few minutes, lighting the candles and setting them around the living room until you’d created a warm, glowing perimeter. It would almost have been romantic, if it had been done on purpose. You handed Bucky a towel. “Here you go,” you said, then reached for your phone. “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all,” he said, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Put on that band you like; the one that plays that song we danced to.”

You smiled. “Yeah, okay.” You navigated to your music player and opened up your Bleachers playlist, putting it on shuffle. You turned the volume down low enough so that you could comfortably talk over it while still listening to the music. “Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, trying to be a good hostess in spite of the current circumstances.

“I’m good,” Bucky said, taking the towel from his head. You had to suppress a snicker– his hair was going in every direction.

“What?” he asked, a small frown playing across his lips.

“Nothing,” you said, trying not to giggle. “You just look like an adorable drowned rat. Come here.” You started walking toward Bucky, and he toward you, until you met each other in the middle of your living room floor. “Let me,” you said, taking the towel from him and running it across his hair again. He bent down to allow you easier access to the top of his head, and when you pulled your hands away, he looked up at you through his lashes, stealing your breath with how beautiful he was in the candlelight. 

“Thank you, again,” you swallowed, “for driving me home.” Before he could reply, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The action seemed to catch you both by surprise, because you each froze. There was a sudden shift in the air, a coiled tension; it was like suddenly, you both knew what was about to happen between you. You knew what was going to happen, and that it was inevitable. 

“I… don’t ever do this,” you whispered, lips so close to his face that they were fluttering against his skin. 

“Me, either,” he told you, his voice gone husky. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “Really badly.”

“Me, too. So bad.”

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but in an instant, his hands were on your waist, yours around his neck as your mouths found one another. He tasted like a hint of bourbon as his tongue made its way into your mouth, and you moaned as he pressed his hips against yours. 

“Major,” he groaned, moving his lips from your mouth, down your neck, and to the covered peaks of your breasts. He sucked at a hardened nipple through the fabric of your drenched shirt and you arched your back, pressing your flesh further into his mouth. “Fuck,” he moaned. 

“Please, Bucky,” you heard yourself whine desperately as he continued to suckle on you through your shirt. “Oh fuck, please.”

He pulled his mouth away from your breast. “‘Please,’ what, pretty girl? You gotta tell me what you want with your words.”

His tone was so seductive, so commanding, that you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “Please… touch me, Sergeant,” you begged, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. “Everywhere.” You found his mouth with yours once again, and could feel him smirk into your lips as he kissed you.

“When you ask so nicely, doll…” he said, and you felt his hands grasp the hem of your shirt, tugging it up over your torso. You raised your arms above your head to assist him in removing it, and you stood before him, top completely bare.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out a hand to grab and knead at the soft mound of your breast. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

You took a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you kissed him again, gently guiding you both down to the floor until he had himself propped up on one elbow above you. “Off,” you panted, pawing at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head, but Bucky hesitated. 

“What is it?” you asked gently, when it was obvious he was reluctant. 

Bucky avoided looking you in the eye. “I’ve got… scars,” he said, embarrassment written across his face. “They’re… they’re not pretty.”

You leaned up to kiss him. “Do any of them keep your dick from working?” you asked.

Bucky barked a startled laugh. “...No.”

“Then take your clothes off, Sergeant,” you said, smiling at him. “That’s a direct order.” 

“Ma’am, yes Ma’am.” Grinning, Bucky leaned back on his haunches and tugged his shirt over his head. If you’d had a cock, it would have sprung to attention at the sight of his muscles, the six pack that rippled across his stomach, the Adonis belt that pointed to unseen delights still to be revealed. You barely even noticed the ragged lines of scar tissue along his shoulder.

That was, however, until you caught the reflection of the candlelight in the metal of his left arm. That was unexpected, you thought to yourself, but by no means a dealbreaker. You bit your bottom lip as you studied him. Despite the scars and his obvious prosthesis, you couldn’t help but think he was perfect.

You reached down to the buttons of your jeans and began undoing them, desperate to get them off your body and him into it. 

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky said. With swiftness but exquisite care, he rolled your pants down. You lifted your hips to assist him and he gently shimmied the wet fabric off of you, until he was pulling one leg off, then the next, leaving you in just a pair of pink lace panties. You squirmed slightly under his appraising gaze before he hooked his index fingers into either side of the waistband of your underwear and began to–agonizingly slowly– pull them down your thighs. 

When he’d moved them all the way down your legs, he fisted the material in his metal hand, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “God,” he moaned as he palmed himself through the jeans he was still wearing. “You smell divine, doll.”

His words sent another rush of wetness seeping from you, and you were convinced you were going to leave a puddle on the floor if he didn’t do something to you soon. “Bucky,” you moaned.

Tossing your panties aside, Bucky leaned forward and, placing one hand on each of your knees, slowly spread your legs open until you were fully on display before him. Suddenly self-conscious, you tried to close your legs, but Bucky stopped you with a hungry look. “Please don’t, doll,” he whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so fucking beautiful… I just wanna look at you a minute.”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky exhale as Bucky positioned himself between your legs, lowering himself down so that he was lying on his stomach, his face mere inches from your center. He ran a hand along the inside of each of your legs, from your knees to your thighs, and you gasped at the difference in temperature and sensation– one soft and warm, the other hard and cold. When he reached the apex, he tucked a thumb on either side of your outer folds and ran them up your slit, opening you to him like a fresh, ripe peach.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured, and you could feel the breath of his words hot against your core. “I need to take a taste, doll,” he whispered, and before you could fully prepare yourself, his mouth was on you. Your hips immediately bucked at the hot contact, his large hands continuing to spread you wide as his tongue explored you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying not to vibrate out of your skin with the pleasure of it all. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god! Don’t stop.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away from you just enough to murmur “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” before diving in again. His mouth was magic as he worked you, from nipping and sucking on your clit, to thrusting his tongue in and out of you, to gently nibbling the sensitive skin of your engorged outer lips. Everything he did was heaven, and you felt your orgasm building with rapid speed.

“Oh, shit,” you cried as his tongue lapped at your weeping hole. “Oh shit, Bucky, I’m gonna cum!”

He pulled his mouth away from you, leaving you gasping at the lack of contact. “Not yet, doll,” he said with a filthy grin. “Not yet.”

He proceeded to play you with his mouth, as if you were an instrument and he was a world class musician, but he wouldn’t let you cum. Every time you got close, he would back off, taking you just far enough before pulling you back from the ledge. It was frustrating the shit out of you, but it was magnificent. You had never been edged so well in your entire life.

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, it was too much. You needed to cum or you felt like you were going to die. “Bucky,” you cried, pressing the heels of your hands into your eye sockets and feeling the space wet with tears. “Bucky, please! Please, let me cum! I need it, Bucky! Need it so fucking bad!” 

His tongue found your clit again, dancing circles over the sensitive nub, and you felt one of his hands let go of you, only to have two of his thick fingers sliding into your entrance with no resistance. He finger fucked you while he sucked on your clit, and the combined sensation, after all the edging, was driving you crazy. “Holy fuck,” you whimpered. “So close.”

Almost as if taking your words as a challenge, Bucky curved his fingers inside of you, dragging them again and again against your g-spot until you were gasping. The pressure was so intense; you’d never felt anything like it before– not once in all your married years had your ex-husband ever brought you anywhere close to where Bucky had brought you in one night.

You were a kettle, about to boil over; a caldera long overdue for its world-ending eruption. You were ecstasy personified, and he hadn’t even brought you to climax yet.

And then, you exploded, screaming his name so loudly you were worried your neighbors would call the police. 

It was a release unlike any you had ever felt before– a double shot of pleasure, and you were positive that, for a moment, you lost consciousness, or at the very least, your soul had temporarily vacated your body. When you came back to yourself, Bucky was leaning over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you know you were gonna do that, doll?” he asked as he bent down to kiss you. You could taste the tang of your arousal on his tongue, along with something else, undefinable and unique.

“D-do w-what?” you asked, your own voice sounding shaky and far away. Your whole body was trembling, the aftershocks of the orgasm pulsating through you. 

Bucky lied down next to you, pulling your naked, sweat-slicked body into his, and wrapping his arms around you. “You squirted all over my face, doll! It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

You laughed through chattering teeth. “I’ve… ne-never d-d-done that be-before,” you said. “F-fuck.”

“I’ll say.” Bucky nuzzled his nose into your hair. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you something? A glass of water? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “Ju-just ne-ne-need a mi-mi-minute to c-come b-b-back int-t-to my b-b-b-body,” you said. “H-h-hold m-me? P-p-p-please?”

“Yeah, of course, doll,” he said, pulling you closer into him. He reached up and pulled a throw blanket off of the arm of your couch, wrapping it snuggly around you both, and you felt yourself relax into the warmth of him.

“Y-you d-d-didn’t c-c-cum,” you said, feeling the trembling decrease, but not ready to stop all together. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” Bucky said, kissing your head. “Watching you come undone like that? I fucking came in my pants like a goddamn teenager. It was unbelievable.” His tone turned serious. “Did you like it? Was it okay?”

Using all the energy you had left in your body, you turned to face him, noticing the concerned look in his eye in the candlelight. “Th-that w-w-was the s-single b-b-best org-a-asm of m-my entire f-f-fucking life.” You kissed him again, desperately clinging to his forearm to ground you. “Th-th-thank you.”

Bucky smiled. “If you don’t mind, then,” he said, burying his face into your shoulder, “I’d like to give you a couple more before morning, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sh-sh-shit,” you laughed. “Y-y-yes p-please.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[cinematicnomad]

cinematicnomad's steddie fic recs

i've been reading a lot of stranger things steddie fics over the past 2 months so i've decided it's time for me to make one of my requisite fic reclists, both for myself, and for anyone else interested. here's my usual reminder that i prefer lengthy fics, and that i am also a sucker for canon divergent fics (which basically all of these are bc eddie is alive post s4 obviously unless it's a time loop fic—if i tag a fic as "canon divergent eddie lives", assume this means the fic is compliant through the end of s4 except for eddie's death) and happy endings. all these fics are complete, though it's possible that if the fic is part of a series the series may not be complete. i will try to always add appropriate tags!

T = teen M = mature Ex = explicit NR = not rated

bracing for impact by writersagainstwritersblock (1/1 | 9k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; wayne POV; steve has bad parents; outsider POV

wayne watches as eddie falls hopelessly in love, with of all people, goddamn steve harrington.

it's not a big deal by aidaronan (1/1 | 11k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; mutual pining; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the upside down forever (his books, his dnd stuff, his guitar.) everything that wasn't on eddie when steve carried him into the ER, gone. so naturally steve starts giving him things. handing eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.

you oughta know by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (1/1 | 12k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; future fic; angst w/ a happy ending

days stretch out, long and slow. steve tries to ignore the only thing he’s sure of: eddie ran. he ran from him, ran from all of them. or: steve's having a rough couple of years, thanks for asking. compliant fic: i'm brave, but i'm chicken shit (1/1 | 13k+ | M) eddie POV; eddie centric; 1990s; recreational drug use

introduced me to my mind by alchemystique (2/2 | 16k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; mutual pining; getting together; happy ending

"eddie," wayne says, and eddie fights the urge to scream, or laugh, or cry. "i'm not running," eddie tells him, even though that is a fucking lie. "you should call him more," wayne says, and eddie rubs the meat of his palm into his eyeballs until he sees stars. doesn’t think about what 'call him more' means in context—do they talk about him? series: sweet leaf (4/4 | 16k+ | T) outsider POVs; rockstar!eddie; period typical homophobia

steve harrington's guide to making it work by eggbertsheggbert (8/8 | 23k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; steve is kicked out; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington has never been good at asking for help. especially not since he started being seen as the protector of the group. so, when his parents kick him out after discovering his sexuality, he figures he can get extra shifts, save up, and get a place before anyone realizes anything is wrong. join steve as he takes on the weight of the world. he's got it figured out, he's definitely NOT struggling, and—above all else—he can make this work.

the power of love by lacerta26 (8/8 | 27k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POVs; series; post-canon; coming out

jim gets mostly to the end of the house and then someone speaks. "i came out here for a smoke," eddie, his voice low, hushed. "yeah, but this is much more fun," steve now, almost laughing but not quite. * jim had only stepped out for a cigarette when he learns something new about steve and eddie and if this was one of the boys bringing home a girl, he’d have the exact stern words to make sure they were being a gentleman but his usual shovel talk isn't quite going to cut it because he has to let them know it's fine, more than fine, for them to be who they are, here. 

hands where i can see them by SolarMorrigan / @solarmorrigan (12/12 | 29k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; established relationship; emotional hurt/comfort

eddie thinks that he and steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. except for the fact that steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits. except for the fact that steve thought they were in a relationship. except for the fact that eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back).

it's alright if you love me by alivingfire (7/7 | 31k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POV; character study; 5+1; steve-centric; hurt/comfort

"oh, haven't you heard? steve harrington doesn't cry." in which steve harrington breaks up, breaks a few hearts (including his own), breaks free, and finally gets to break down. or: 5 times steve didn't cry, and 1 time he did.

off the beaten path by pukner (6/6 | 34k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; alternating POV; queer awakenings; cliffhanger ending (must read sequels)*

"i'm saying this," says steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone i love is, uh, gay. and i love them, but like, platonically. and also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in retrospect." there is a long, baffled pause. "what," says jonathan, "steve, are you—are you coming out to me?" steve frowns, "oh, yeah, i guess i am. cool." or, post season 3, steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to robin and jonathan byers of all people, and figures himself out. also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. and his bandana. too bad eddie munson hasn't had a similar revelation. he's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over steve harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: steve figures out he's bi before eddie figures out that he's gay. eddie still manages to fall first. series: *off-script (2/2 | 67k+ | Ex) eddie POV; internalized homophobia; mutual pining

a tattoo is worth a thousand words by writersagainstwritersblock (18/18 | 40k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; eddie POV; babysitter steve harrington; getting together

"ambidextrous, princess, it’s what makes me so good with my hands." eddie wiggled his fingers. "you mean for guitar?" steve asked, completely missing the innuendo, and also nearly knocking eddie flat at the thought that steve harrington knew he played guitar. "you stalking me or something?" eddie asked. steve frowned. "uh, no, but your band played in the middle school talent show, it's pretty hard to forget a thirteen year old screaming death metal before his voice dropped." eddie almost laughed at that. almost. "you saying i'm unforgettable, princess?" "if that’s how you want to take it, munson." eddie realized this was turning towards something far more dangerous than taunting a boy known for getting into fights, like flirting with a very, very straight boy known for getting into fights. OR after the events of season three steve shows up on eddie's doorstep asking for a tattoo... and then keeps showing up much to the dismay of eddie's traitorous heart. sequel: visible ink (12/12 | 57k+ | M) outsider POVs; firefighter!steve; tattoo artist!eddie; found family

the one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting. by badpancake (12/12 | 41k+ | T) canon compliant; time loop; steve POV; temporary character death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

it’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. he’s dove into the water hundreds of times. screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard master of puppets in the distance and held back tears. felt max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. there are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: el doesn’t arrive in time. eddie dies. max is put in a coma. steve fails. they lose. "steve, how many loops have you been through?" his head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. "i lost count.” AKA: the one where steve harrington is stuck in a time loop, and eddie munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck volume 2, these bitches are in love.

steve the reluctant by rachtay13 (7/7 | 46k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; oblivious steve; steve plays dnd

robin raised her brows.  "you know what, harrington?" she nodded her head. "yeah, you know what? i dare you to make a friend. i dare you." read for steve in denial, excessive d&d gameplay, robin as a mermaid, and eddie's glinting rings. as one reader said "the most frustratingly dense version of steve i have ever read and i am HERE for it."

you're so fucked up and i love it by genericfanatic (18/18 | 54k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; accidental relationship; hurt/comfort

eddie munson hated steve harrington. he'd apparently saved his life, dragged him out of hell and got him to a hospital while nancy rushed behind him working on alibis and half truths to prove he couldn’t have murdered chrissy. and here he was, doomed to live for the foreseeable future, in debt forever to steve fucking harrington. but eddie really hated how normal steve fucking was.

where do we go from here? (quietly fading away) by allandmore (9/9 | 60k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; non-graphic violence

"what's scarier than saving the world? figuring out what to do afterwards. i get it," eddie turns on his side, one shoulder on the wall, and grips the front of steve's shirt. His face is so close steve can feel the warmth of his breath. "but we've got time now. right, steve? we bought us all time. time to figure all our shit out. isn’t that what matters?" OR steve harrington struggles to find purpose after the upside down. (but maybe purpose doesn't have to be big. maybe it's helping dustin navigate sophomore year. maybe it's reminding robin to send in college admission letters. maybe it's eddie munson. maybe).

star of the masquerade by glorious_spoon (6/6 | 64k+ | M) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. when his gaze lands on eddie, he blanches visibly. "oh, shit," he mutters. "come on, no. come on. not again." "harrington?" eddie asks slowly. he does not love the way that steve is staring at him right now. he really doesn’t. steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. "you good, dude?"

one size fits all by entanglednow (10/10 | 65k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; fake/pretend relationship; misunderstandings; slow burn

steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions.

renegades (leave a light on) by queerofthedagger (13/13 | 66k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; eddie POV; road trip; slow burn; strangers to lovers

eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. even less does he expect steve harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. least of all, though, does he expect harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout. the winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to san francisco—just until things back home blow over, munson—eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would harrington care to help him? why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? and, maybe most importantly, why is the former king so ready to leave hawkins behind on a whim? or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. a story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one.

falling without caution (people watching) by super_skam310 (10/10 | 66k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; slow burn; eventual happy ending

steve harrington is a man that demands your attention; whether your give it willingly or not is inconsequential. eddie's camp tended to be in the latter category. OR eddie's borderline obsessive watching of steve spanning from steve's freshman year to season 4, culminating in the unfortunate realization that the king had been dethroned the moment nail bat hit monster flesh and that maybe steve harrington was lovable all along.

in the margins by foxy_mulder (4/4 | 70k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; suicidal thoughts; hurt/comfort

steve is having a hard time adjusting to the new normal, after everything that went down. he doesn't want to bother his friends with his problems, though, when they've got so much weight on their shoulders already. steve stumbles on an alternate version of hawkins, where none of it ever happened. everyone’s alive, his headaches are gone, his friends actually want to hang out with him, and he’s…happy. (the party has to fight another monster. but this one doesn't prey on people's fears. it preys on their deepest desires.)

skull rock era by chattrekisses (11/11 | 71k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; steve POV; slow burn; internalized homophobia; fix-it

steve harrington never planned for eddie munson. steve was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart, have 2.5 children, and take over the family business. he was supposed to live a blissful life on a nondescript cul-de-sac, complete with a white picket fence and a closet full of tasteful polo shirts. he was supposed to make a graceful transition between being the golden boy and being the american dream. mediocrity was what destiny had designed for steve. reality had other plans. (or, steve and eddie, against all odds, fall in love.)

roll for seduction by spikeisthebigbad (37/37 | 74k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; steve plays dnd; fix-it

when steve reluctantly agreed to play dungeons and dragons with the hellfire club he expected to hate every second. he did not expect to spend his friday nights flirting with eddie munson. what if eddie and steve were dating during season 4? starts after season 3, and eventually ventures into season 4. not canon compliant.

in over my head by staymagical (16/16 | 75k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; temporary amnesia

one moment, steve is entering his room, ready for bed, and the next he's in forest hills staring at a very confused very concerned eddie and the run-down remains of the old munson trailer. three hours later. thus begins a secret shared between friends, steve leaning on eddie as they try and understand and navigate this new terrifying post-concussion symptom of steve's. with vecna dead and the gates closed, it can only be steve's own scrambled brain giving up on reality. it's a race against the unknown, trying to find answers and search for solutions before it happens again and steve isn't sure how long he can keep pretending he is alright when he is anything but.

leave the light on sometimes all night by anniebibananie (7/7 | 78k+ | M) au—no upside down; steve POV; hurt/comfort; slow burn; eventual smut

june 1986 steve is lonely. he’s always been lonely, honestly. an empty house, absent parents, friends that didn’t really know him. frankly, he probably doesn’t really know himself, either. it used to be easier to ignore—between sports and parties and searching for the next girl to hang around with. then nancy wheeler told him he was bullshit. in the wreckage of the storm, he realized she probably hadn’t been that off base to call his life bullshit. [life in hawkins, indiana is boring, ordinary, no supernatural entities. steve still changes. luckily, he still makes some new friends, too. certain people are simply meant to be in the same story.]

the lathe by palmviolet (13/13 | 82k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending; implied self-harm

"this time, do it right. this time eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. this time, steve will do it right." — or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable. sequel: disaster / lucky (1/1 | 7k+ | M) coda; eddie POV; implied/referenced self-harm; trauma recovery

it's got what it takes by rose235b (20/20 | 83k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; friends to lovers; slow burn

“i can walk you to your car if you need to go though.” eddie’s hand stopped moving. robin’s eyes snapped towards steve as if it wasn’t a nice thing to offer. “i’ll just maybe grab the vest so i can leave it for tomorrow.” he was undeterred though. if he could help eddie munson after the worst period of his life by literally just walking, steve would walk across the entire state of indiana. eddie looked back at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to search for something on steve’s face. “okay.” it came out softer than steve was used to eddie being. steve's on his never ending quest to make up for past mistakes. eddie's post-vecna mess of a life seems like the perfect place to start. - or, two idiots fall in love very slowly to the tune of 80s music.

(something happens and i'm) head over heels by gibbouslunation (11/11 | 94k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie made a strangled disbelieving noise, expression flickering. "you are not apologizing to me right now, for like, feeling a normal way about stuff. i can’t believe you." steve pushed a shaking hand through his hair. his heart rate no longer in his ears meant he felt he could at least think a little more clearly. "maybe it was the heat. doesn’t always have to be something messed up, right?" eddie gave him a placating nod. "sure, heat exhaustion is a helluva thing." it had been happening a lot recently. the…forgetting. zonking out. whatever. he was pretty sure he was just extra exhausted, it had been a few weeks since everything but it might have just been the adrenaline or something finally wearing off. sometimes it was like he just forgot someone was speaking, or couldn’t remember for a moment what they’d been talking about. like blinking out of a fog maybe. it does not get better, in fact, it actually continues to get worse.

water closet by stillmadaboutpetra (7/7 | 103k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; found family; slow burn; character study

steve's heard that a lot of life changing conversations usually happen in the kitchen or on the porch, but in his experience, it's the bathroom. a series of bathroom conversations (plus a whole lot of everything else) that slowly change steve, and his little world, in the wake of surviving vecna.

burned on the pyre by oklahoma (13/13 | 105k+ | Ex) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

"i’m gonna save your life, eddie munson." - caught in a time loop created by eleven where he is forced to relive the same day over and over, steve has to come up with a plan to kill vecna entirely while also making sure eddie and max don’t lose their lives in the process.

the beat has just begun by forgetthemoon (12/12 | 106k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; period-typical homophobia; fix it; slow burn

vecna dies. so does eddie. the world doesn't split open. in the aftermath, steve goes home to an empty house. well. almost empty. steve sighs, hanging his head. one more thing. then he can go to bed. the dirty towel can wait until later. he tosses it towards the bathtub without looking and turns to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. when he looks in the mirror, eddie's staring back at him.

lonely is the night by intrajanelle (23/23 | 109k+ | T) canon divergent post s2; canon rewrite; eddie POV; hurt steve; angst w/ a happy ending

harrington had fallen, splayed in front of his preppy little beemer, like the jock equivalent of a fallen fucking angel. eddie, not having thought this through, watched harrington’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and said, "well, crap." or: post-season 2, eddie and steve get to know one another.

i can give you a heartbeat by soupbitchin (14/14 | 113k+ | T) canon compliant; eddie POV; ghost!eddie; happy ending; fix-it

being dead isn’t like eddie thought it would be. for starters, he’s a lot more alive than he expected. or, the ghost of eddie munson’s still hanging around, and he’d really appreciate if someone could notice him, thanks.

the end is here (and we do it a hundred times over) by placebythering (13/13 | 125k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jolts awake, staring up into the dull beige of the camper’s ceiling. there’s a distinct brown stain, likely from a leak. the cushion of the back seat is hard against his back, and if he strains he could hear yelling and laughing from the outside. he wonders if he’s finally lost his fucking mind. —or, steve relives the day of the end over and over again.

caught in the middle, helpless again by margosfairyeye (14/14 | 131k+ | Ex) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; angst w/ a happy ending; canon-typical violence

fuck, eddie has been here before. the deja vu was bad enough but this is like, double, this is like deja deja vu or deja vu vu or something, this is unprecedented shit here. and eddie knows what comes next, knows like the roiling ache in his stomach that they’re going to go in, go though the portal and into the upside fucking down and didn’t they already do this? -- -- eddie loops through the time from lover's lake to his death, over and over again.

blood, love, and rhetoric by sourpastels / @lesbiansidney (18/18 | 143k+ | M) canon compliant; alternating POV; eddie lives; canon typical violence; accidental roommates

eddie believes three core things about the art of performance. 1. all the world's a stage. 2. performance is both a weapon and a shield, he wields it as both. and 3. you can’t act death. to quote stoppard: “it’s not gasps and blood and falling about—that isn’t what makes it death. it’s just a man failing to reappear, that’s all…” and eddie had gasped and bled and fell about, and was foolish enough in that moment to believe that was death. but he forgot a crucial step: he reappeared. or: steve is taking it day by day, flitting between the high school and the hospital and hopper’s cabin, locking any thoughts of eddie munson away at the back of his mind. meanwhile, eddie is just trying to get out of the upside down, with nothing but a nail-shield and the world's worst company.

sleight of hand by smithereen (19/19 | 143k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; alternating POV; internalized homophobia; slow burn

steve needs a weed dealer. he gets a bit more than that. (this is an AU set a couple months after the snow ball in season 2.)

take the money and run by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (22/22 |143k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; road trip; getting together; future fic

"rules. like, there’ll be no eating in my car. you're not driving my car. no heavy metal," steve keeps listing, "you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m—" "i'll try to control myself," eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. fucking girls in steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. steve continues, completely ignoring eddie, "you’ll wipe your feet. you're not dragging dirt all over my car. no hitchhikers. no cutesy road games. no smoking in the car. i'm not paying for all the gas." "ass, gas or grass, got it," eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. he is not taking this seriously. or: road trip!

if your heart surrenders by asbealthgn (39/39 | 163k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; slow burn; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

“that one’s on the house, okay?” eddie says, and steve opens his eyes to look back down at him. on his face is the slightest hint of concern, and something else steve can’t place. he’s still holding his hand. "thank you," steve says. he’s not sure exactly which thing he’s thanking eddie for, the weed or the hand in his or the lack of judgment at his fucked up head. he just knows that he’s grateful. eddie gives him a smile, a gentle curve of those pretty lips. "anytime, harrington."

tuesday's gone with the wind by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (9/9 | 184k+ | Ex) alternate universe – no upside down; eddie POV; rock band; drug use; plane crash

corroded coffin's leased plane went down on june 13th, 1995 in the woods of louisiana. ten people on board died. eddie munson survived. before he survived, he really lived. companion series: wildflowers...and all the rest (15/15 | 151k+ | Ex) gareth POV; original female character; one shots; growing old; slice of life

gossip by jcmadgirl (11/11 | 213k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; pre-canon; sexual assault; angst w/ a happy ending

steve's whole life story, told through multiple snapshots of the events that made him into the person that he is today. or, a rewriting of stranger things from steve's POV.

i never did believe in miracles (but i've a feeling it's time to try) by cuoredimuschio (26/26 | 215k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; slow burn; mutual pining; getting together

eddie is beginning to think that, somewhere in the helter-skelter of surviving the upside down, being swarmed by possibly rabid but definitely rancid demobats, and charbroiling vecna’s slimy ass, he accidentally tripped through the wrong gate and landed in an alternate dimension. well, a different alternate dimension than the one he was already in. because steve harrington is flirting with him.

vignettes of lost connections by hardlyhalcyon (halcyonfrost) (50/50 | 229k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington and eddie munson had met long before dustin henderson dragged steve down to reefer rick's cabin. hawkins wasn't a huge town, and there was only the one high school, but the two were never friends. didn't even like each other. in all their darkest moments however, they somehow found company together. or the one where steve has depression, eddie becomes his safe space, and when eddie encounters battles he can't fight, steve reminds eddie of his own strength. a pre-/peri-/post-s4 fic with steddie before s4 events, continuing through and after.

as the world falls down by daeneryske (36/36 | 245k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

after saving eddie from the upside down, steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear eddie's name. what steve doesn't expect is how much he likes hanging out with eddie as they get to know each other. under the looming shadow of the mind flayer threatening to destroy hawkins, steve and eddie realize they're each grappling with their own darkness, from steve's father's impossible expectations to eddie's feelings of worthlessness. their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. steve must decide if he's ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. eddie must learn to embrace what steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he's worth saving.

nothing else matters by bigskyandthecoldgun (31/31 | 279k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical attitudes; everybody lives

"you ask a lot of questions about me," steve tells him. "because you're interesting," munson says, quiet and honest. "you're a lot different than what i've heard." steve hums, eyes closed. "yeah," he says, eyes fluttering open when munson takes the joint from him again, "you are, too." or: steve ditches the prom to get high.

since you've gone (i've been lost without a trace) by steddieeddie (7/7 | 300k+ | M) canon divergent s4; multiple POV; comatose steve; grief; angst w/ a happy ending

may 31st 1986, two weeks until graduation. robin, eddie, and nancy are all set to walk across the stage, eddie being given a free pass after the whole ‘almost framed for murder’ thing. the three have been trying to be excited about their graduation, but it feels almost mundane to be excited when steve wouldn’t be there. they would be sat out on a football field in the blistering heat while waiting for their names to be called, with dustin and max in the crowd, cheering them on in steve's place. there would be fake smiles plastered to all their faces, no matter how realistic they tried to make them. none of them have genuinely smiled since steve got vecna'd. sixty-five days. steve had been in a coma for sixty-five days. the doctors keep telling the party that it doesn't look good, that steve's injures had been severe, and that they didn't know if, when, he would wake up. but they refused to lose hope. he'll wake up. it's just a matter of time. OR five times steve harrington didn't wake up, and one time he did.

the most dangerous thing (is to love you) by brokebeatle (21/21 | 304k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; shared trauma; slow burn; period typical homophobia  

"i know you care about what those little twerps think of you, and i can assure you they think way too highly of you," eddie says with a wink, and steve gives a half-hearted smirk for just a moment. "but look…i know i can’t ask you to stop worrying about those kids, so how about this? you worry about them, and you let me—actually let me—worry about you." steve pushes his hair back, and yet again, gravity instantly pulls it back down, since he’s looking at his feet. "…i don’t need anyone to worry about me." "too fucking bad. someone’s gotta do it, and it’s gonna be me." "why?" steve replies with a raspy laugh, shaking his head slowly. "why? why." eddie crosses his arms tightly across his chest, knocking his foot into steve’s again with a bit more strength. "because we’re friends, dipshit." —in which eddie's got a reason he's been planning on leaving hawkins since long before the world almost ended. the only thing keeping him in town at this point? his promise to be friends with steve harrington. and eddie doesn't break promises.

the man that i could be by ohstars (26/26 | 325k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

"steve harrington isn't straight. it's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at starcourt with robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of steve. since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys." -- after coming to terms that he may be queer, steve harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only eddie munson. just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for eddie in their own little bubble, steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. and when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his eddie is the same eddie playing D&D with the kids. the same eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. how will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team? series: the men we've become (4/4 | 45k+ | M) future fics; alternating POVs; domestic living

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D) none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights,  as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.���

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collide against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaous ensued as multiple players got involved trying to easen the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceanera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[dcfan-event]

DC FANWORK EVENT

INTRODUCTION ✧

This event is being held During the entirety of December 2024 and is for the DC Fandom, whether you focus on the Batfamily, Superfamily, etc. does not matter- write (or draw or do something else) who you feel comfortable writing (or drawing or something else again, it does not matter) for.

Prompts are linked below, there is both a fluff and an angst prompt for everyday, feel free to do either, and you can also participate with smut if you wish (just make sure to include appropriate tags/warnings, AND be OVER 18 years old.), you will simply use the daily prompt as a guide and interpret it how you see fit for your story.

Reminder, this event involves ALL types of fan creations, whether or be fanfic or fanart or something else entirely does not matter.

PARTICIPATION ✧

If you end up Participating please use the tag #DCember24 in order to provide easy access to anyone who wishes to read your work, and for precaution if you'd like to tag the account with a simple @dcfan-event in order to prevent your creation from disappearing from my radar that would be useful.

on ao3 a collection has been made called 'DCember 2024' which you can post to alternatively/additionally as well :).

There will be some Alternative Prompts as well in order to minimize discomfort for the writers, and even if you do enjoy the original prompts feel free to play around with the extra prompts.

For all those participating, please follow the rules below, if you do not your piece will be excluded from this page entirely.

RULES ✧

⇾ discrimination will not be tolerated by any means. whether it be racial hate, religion based hate, homophobia or transphobia, and any other form of hate, you will be reported and ignored during the event.

⇾ please do not participate or interact with smut/mdni works if you are under 18/ageless.

⇾ have. respect. for. the. artists.

⇾ do not feel the need to participate with every prompt, do as many as you choose, whether that be 1 or all 31 is up to you.

⇾ please remember to tag your works appropriately, simply as a respect for the readers and your fellow writers.

⇾ During this event if you are reading, follow the most basic rule of 'don't like, don't read'. Hating on other peoples creations that they worked hard on simply because you did not like it is very much disrespectful and not going to be tolerated.

PROMPTS ✧

⇾ will be added/linked soon

MASTERLIST ✧

⇾ will be added/linked after event

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF!! Sometimes I like to read this fandom problem blog that receives submissions from people all over Tumblr, recently this was posted and I wanted to know what you thought of it: The tag types of "Tags update as story is written" or "additional tags to be added" or "Rating may change." Fuck those. I don't care if you add some extra benign tags as the story goes along, and you realise you wanna add more content that's just there, or you realise your fic maybe went a bit harder than you expected. Some stories get their own life. But at the same time, if you knew you'd want to add certain content, or that the rating was gonna go way up from what you tagged in the beginning, why did you not tag it from the start? Especially when the tagged content becomes a big part of the story, or influences the story strongly. And then you find out that the Author already had been planning adding this type of content for a long time, they just FOR SOME STUPID-ASS REASON didn't wanna add the tag until it actually happens. You're supposed to tag so the people can make an informed decision if they wanna commit to your fic, so for the love of the tagging-system, actually TAG ALL YOUR SHIT FROM THE START. Same shit for changing ratings. I hate it when someone plans from the start to make the story explicit, but doesn't change the rating until they've reached the NSFW sections. There's a reason there's a tagging system. So do you just not understand how that works? Or are you just being kind of as ass on purpose? This does not help when avoiding stories with specific content you try to exclude from your results. It's even dumber if the reason is to "avoid spoiling the fic readers", because anyone coming later to the fic is going to be "spoiled" by the tags regardless. And if you know you wanna add porn, or gore, then rate the story appropriately. Rather categorise it too high, than fuck around with people who don't wanna read explicit content. As a writer who uses the Archive, I want to put my 2 cents in. When I'm writing a fic, a long fic for example, I want to tag the stuff that actually DOES appear at that time so that I'm not clogging other tags/people don't think I'm spamming to inflate my readership (And I DEFINITELY do not want something I worked hard on to get reported for spam). I do get the frustration at reading a fic and then something changes like the rating, but as a writer, sometimes things go off script and one thing that's rated T or M might eventually become E just based off the writing juices doing it's thing(tm). To me, the "Additional tags to be added" is kind of like CNTW, it's something the reader has to make a decision if they want to risk getting invested/read that particular fic. It feels very much like a "damned if you do/damned if you don't" situation. What are some of your thoughts on something like this?

--

Writers are always going to vary in their favorite approach, and readers who act like there's one right answer are idiots.

For me personally, even if I'm posting as I write, I do have a solid idea of where the fic is going, and I strongly prefer—both as a reader and writer—to have all of the tags in place at the beginning.

I also don't like over-tagging for warnings and only want to see/use tags for the basic main content of the fic, which does make it easier to know ahead of time than if I tagged every tiny thing.

I think spoilers are a dumb reason not to tag things.

So I agree with the complainer's tastes...

...but at the same time, they're acting like these ought to be rules, and AO3 is designed to accommodate a lot of different people with different styles, so I think their attitude leaves something to be desired.

[magicaltrans]

Magical Trans Comfort Fest (AKA MT comfest) 2023!

For the third consecutive year, we are running the MT comfest! With new prompts, fresh out of the oven, we cannot wait to see what you'll offer the world! This fest is meant to provide comfort and a sense of community to those who might have a hard time during the holidays, and those who want to spread warmth during this time! Thank you @basicallyahedgehog for your beautiful graphics.

This is a very informal fest, so there is no hard deadline and you don’t have to sign up– all you have to do is create your work, and then post it into the collection once it’s open! The rules are the same as last year– above all, we ask for respect and kindness in both creating and interacting with this fest. Your creation must also have a positive tone, be an HP work, be thoroughly tagged, and contain at least one trans character. Works can be mature or explicit as long as they are tagged appropriately and the creator is over 18. You do not have to be part of the server to participate, though we’d love for you to join!

You can produce whatever you feel comfortable with, whether it be a drabble, a long one-shot, a doodle, a time-consuming fanart, a podfic, a collage, a fic-bind, a headcanon post… whatever you want!

The fest will run for three days and we are providing prompts for inspiration, but feel free to pick and choose or completely ignore them if you have other ideas! The collection will be opened closer to the date of publishing. In the meantime, feel free to check out the great works from last year’s fest!

You might have peeked two sets of prompts earlier on this post. For extra spiciness, we got you another entire new set of prompts! We have the regular prompts, and same as last year, they can be combined or used on their own. Then you have the dual prompts, who go together and don't bear really well to be separeted. Have fun!

December 23: Euphoria - Board games - Holiday T4tree - Fringe cutting - Spices & boats December 24: Ribbon - Book lending - Authentic introduction - Hot chocolate - Family & nail polish December 25: Sharing is caring - Flux - Jewellery shopping - Carolling - Communal cooking & empowerment

[syndrossi]

Ahhh, it's been a while since the last comment complaining about the story pacing; maybe I should add a "molasses-paced character study" tag to the story to better set expectations.

Am I just weird? I feel like it makes perfect sense for the first few days at King's Landing to be quite dense. You're dealing with:

The first week of Daemon and the twins figuring out their relationship

And then subsequently having a ton of variables thrown in once they arrive in King's Landing to shake up the relationship

The political aftermath of a nation attempting to steal children and dragons from House Targaryen / the Iron Throne

Having to introduce the twins to SO MUCH family and set up the dynamics there

Having to progress the politics of their presence

Candle shenanigans

The disaster that is Daemon and Viserys's relationship

Hatchlings

I like to liken pacing to a camera's lens, and how tightly focused/zoomed it is. Take the first playdate with the Green kids in chapter 20. There are four main "zooms" you can use.

A single throwaway sentence. "Aegon led them to the gardens, where Rhaegar spent the next two hours turning the story of Aemon the Dragonknight from the previous night into a game of pretend that both cousins delighted in playing, to the point of bitter complaint when it came time for their arms training."

A paragraph. A bit like the above, but with a few extra details. You can capture a little more of the dynamic, like mentioning Rhaegar reluctantly accepting the role of Naerys and the suggestion of Jon being an evil Dornish assassin.

A subsection of a scene. Basically what ended up in chapter 20. There's some dialogue, but the play session is mostly summarized, with the highlights being recapped, and the boys get to break down what they noticed during their play.

A complete representation of the game of pretend, complete with dialogue and play-by-play.

I may be a madwoman, but even I usually don't go as far as #4. On the opposite side of the spectrum, #1 gives almost nothing, characterization-wise. It tells us nothing about Aegon or Aemond's personalities, or how they feel about / relate to Jon and Rhaegar. It's mostly flavor text to indicate time passing between lessons.

#2 gives us a bit more. We can see that the way they've been taught to feel about the Velaryon boys bleeds into their subconscious feelings about Jon. It's a bit more "tell don't show," which (contrary to the stereotypical writing guidance) is fine in many cases; by which I mean, since there are fewer words, the things that the writer chooses to focus on tell you what they think is important, vs a tighter zoom where there are more opportunities to read between the lines or have a different interpretation.

#3 lens gives us the "you're prettier than Helaena" line and the boys fighting over who gets true love's kiss, and you can read those both so many ways! Maybe someone has a tiny crush on Rhaegar. Or maybe Aegon hates the reminder that he'll likely have to marry Helaena someday and wants to escape it by having someone else in the role of Naerys. Maybe it's a power thing--they live in a very patriarchal society, and so they put themselves in the positions of highest power and relegate their lower-ranking cousins to the roles of women/enemies. Maybe the true love's kiss argument is about the power struggle/sibling discord between Aegon and Aemond. That's sort of what I mean about room for interpretation, which I personally (as a reader) find more fun. It's how headcanons are born! And then there's the debriefing at the end with Jon and Rhaegar, where they get to reflect on their own impressions after the playdate, which is something you wouldn't get with #1 or #2. And we get a glimpse at the personality of their Kingsguard for the day, Ser Erryk, who plays a recurring role in their lives now.

I like to use #2 lens for things that aren't as "new" (or interesting, or that don't have important new information to convey). For example, #3 lens is appropriate for their first playdate together. Their second playdate, we might not need that level of zoom; #2 might suffice to show what's changed since last time. Are they more open to Jon being a hero/family? Does Helaena finally get to join? Etc. Basically, #3 is about establishing a baseline, and #2 lets you tell the reader what has changed/progressed after that. And then as pacing increases (several days pass at a time), you can reach for the occasional #1 lens just to add that flavor when indicating the passage of time. Or maybe a dynamic gets shaken up and you can reach for a #3 later on to show how.

It comes down to the intention of the scene/chapter. What is chapter 20 trying to do? It's checking in on the current level of trauma in the wake of the kidnapping (Jon's difficulty sleeping) and level of trust with Daemon (Daemon stopping by to help), it's establishing the new routine for Jon and Rhaegar by showing what a typical day looks like (and where their hatchlings will live), it's setting up the initial dynamic between them and the Green kids, it's demonstrating the boys' skills to the people at court, and it's setting up eventual conflict between Daemon and Jon. Those are all great candidates for a #3 lens!

It just makes for what some people might perceive as a "slow" pacing if what interests them isn't the relationship dynamics but rather whatever they perceive the larger plot to be. (For those for whom that's "getting to the Dance," this story will always be a struggle.) I also probably have a very different perspective because I "know" that ultimately it's 1Mil+ word story if I tell the kind of story I want to. For people used to stories ending around 200-300K, they're perhaps wondering when this will "get to the point."

[aroaceleovaldez]

how do you reach the askblog demographic you want?? Me & a friend recently started one and we have very little interaction despite trying to tag relevant things, advertise on our main blogs, etc. Also just tips for starting one in general would be appreciated lmao

I've gone over tips for how to start an askblog [here], but as for the rest:

A.) Make sure that you actually are an askblog and not an RP blog. Some people will use those terms interchangeably or call their RP blogs askblogs and those are not the same thing. This is actually a very common problem. If you are doing RP stuff but calling it an askblog people will not send you askblog asks because they will assume you are a mislabeled RP blog. Sometimes also vice versa. Making sure it is labeled appropriately will make sure people are going to interact more because they can identify your blog more clearly. If you're unsure about the difference, I have a rough definition:

A tumblr askblog is generally defined as any tumblr blog in which there is a subject/focus on a “muse”/character to whom followers/the audience can direct questions to via the blog’s inbox. The “mun”/mod/admin(s) of the blog will respond to these questions in-character. This is different from a roleplay blog, in which the audience always plays the role of characters the blog’s muse will interact with directly, usually providing a narrative prompt to reply to/continue off of. Askblogs can be of a variety of formats, including illustrated/“drawn-response” askblogs, text-response askblogs, cosplay askblogs, voice acting askblogs, and more.

B.) Be careful when you tag things - if you are cross-tagging too much (i.e. posting about one character but tagging another character not referenced) people in those tags may actually block you, or tumblr may flag you as a bot. You can usually tell if your blog accidentally got flagged because your inbox and messaging icons will disappear when you look at your blog's dashboard preview. Do not crosstag! It is never a good thing on tumblr and will never help you. Only tag stuff that's strictly and entirely relevant. In PJO-sphere the only real exception to this is tagging anything PJO related "Percy Jackson" because that is both the series and the character, so people will not get on your case for that. That one is fine, nobody really cares. "Riordanverse" is the common all-encompassing tag for all PJO-universe series and etc though.

Other than that, making original posts frequently and having original posts on your blog that people are more likely to reblog (ex: normal fanart outside of askblog asks, shitposts/memes, etc) will help people find your blog more. People are not likely to reblog advertisement posts, but will reblog general fanart and memes. Try not to reblog too much stuff to your blog especially at first because that clutters it a lot and people will have a harder time figuring out what your askblog is like when you're actually answering asks (also only original posts count towards your blog appearing in tag searches and etc).

C.) I actually have a dedicated blog for this exact type of thing - @askblog-index. The format there is basically people submit an index of their askblog and that gets posted so people can filter for specific fandoms or other criteria to find askblogs they might be looking for. Because looking for askblogs can be difficult in the tumblrsphere. I usually post indexes pretty quickly so if you submit one I will absolutely get on that.

As some extra tips, make sure you enable your blog's custom theme (you don't have to do much setting up for the theme itself, though if you want it is really easy to do so. Recently I've quite enjoyed the theme Vision, though particularly for askblogs you can never go wrong with good ol' Redux). Double and triple check your inbox is open. And in your blog settings there is a "featured tags" thing that you can edit - edit your blog's featured tags to whatever the subject of your askblog is. Fandom, main character(s) of the blog, the terms "askblog"/"askblogs," etc etc all that jazz. This feature literally tells tumblr how to recommend your blog to people.

[uncle-dusknoir]

I'M HOLDING A HALLOWEEN PARTY

i haven't been to any halloween thing in a long time so i thought i'd give it a shot.

uuuuh. made a gliscord server for it so people can text at each other during it too. so we have that. here

it'll be fun! i hope. i havent hosted a party before. it starts at 6 pm and goes until everyone leaves

Updated the link so it should last 7 days starting Oct 30th

OOC rules!

Most of Basil's rules are bendable, but some I am gonna enforce OOC as well. I'll go over them in order here with extra information!

It looks long, I promise it's a lot of silly stuff. Please read it, still, but I'm not gonna be glaring at everything you do. MOST important still is in red.

Please tag all posts for this event with the official tag: #basils bhalloween bash. The B in bhalloween is important.

Please be normal: The server/event is open to both kids and adults, though Basil isn't exactly fond of the idea of children coming. Nothing overtly NSFW, please!

Younger characters do not have to stay outside, nor do appropriately sized Pokemon. However, they must stay out of the wine.

Please don't do anything that dramatically changes the party- IE, destroying Basil's house- without permission. Best place to ask that is the Discord server linked above.

Skorna is free game to harass. She will be vaguley annoying during the party.

If you do bring any food/drinks, be sure to post about it! I'll make a potluck channel in the discord as well.

(Speaking of the discord, if you're in it, it'd be cool if you could add your posts about the event to the server's blog feed channel!)

basil will be annoying about nov 1st being her birthday. just warning you

Please don't actually harm any of Basil's Pokemon! Skorna and Thyme you can harass but nothing long-term. Pranks and goofs are fine.

Basil is allergic to fairy types. Fairy HYBRIDS are fine as long as they don't, like... shed. Or use any Fairy moves around her. though it would be a little funny

Keep the event low/drama stakes, please!

I don't want to fully ban legendaries, but I am VERY selective about which ones can come. Like- Hoopa is chill, but Kyogre isn't. Legendaries that stay in human disguises are cool, as well.

If there's anyone in attendance that would prefer not to interact with certain sapient Pokemon/Legendaries, please respect that! If you're one of those people, please be polite about it!

Let me know if you try and snoop around Basil's house. That's weird though lmao

The vote will be between Addams, halloween music, and horror movies :)

As for event date: Most posts should go up/be queued for Halloween itself! Feel free to do pre-RP and stuff like that- I'll have channels set up in the server for that as well.

That should be everything! Thank you :>

[lovebugs-and-snakecharmers]

LBSC Sprint Challenge February 2024

The LBSC Sprint Challenge is now open for writers and artists!

We did things a little differently this month and asked our discord members for Valentine's related prompts, so you get a few extra prompts this month! If you're not feeling the Valentine's vibe, the Wildcard option is always available.

The prompts are:

1. Flower Delivery boy Luka getting an address wrong. Which means the girl who answered the door might just be available. 2. Tom decides to drop some hints to Luka that Marinette is single and Valentine’s Day is coming up. And everyone knows that the best way to a man’s brain is through pastries decorated with not so subtle hints. 3. Florist!Mari- the heat in her shop has gone out, and it's Soo cold. Luka makes a delivery of something that has to be refrigerated. 4. Sabine, seeing Luka and Mari dancing around each other (and maybe seeing Tom fail to get the two together) decides to take matters into her own hands and what better excuse to have Luka around than needing an extra pair of hands at the bakery with the valentines rush coming up? 5. The people of Paris are shocked to discover Ladybug doesn’t like Valentine’s Day. People have plenty of theories, but Luka’s pretty sure he knows the reason why. 6. There's ALWAYS an akuma on Valentine's Day. 7. Conversation Hearts 8. Marinette makes an apron with a conversation heart pattern. Luka takes the 'kiss me' heart very seriously. 9. After all the roses from Chat Noir, Marinette's a little...indifferent to the traditional Valentine's flower. Luka has to get inventive. 10. Kwamis give dating advice with… mixed results 11. Marinette loves soulmate stories and believes in true love. Lately, she's feeling down and starts to give up on the whole idea. Luka tries to put together or act out a Soulmate story/AU in real life to help her feel better/special. 12. Luka trying to work up the nerve to smooch Marinette. Attempts to ask by giving her the "KISS ME" conversation heart. Marinette, distracted by something else: "Ewwwwwww." 13. Luka and Marinette are both doing valentines deliveries and get trapped/stuck in an elevator together 14. Wildcard - pick any previous challenge prompt, or play LBSC Smooch Roulette to generate a prompt!

You have until Wednesday, February 28 to complete your 3 15-minute sprints/45 minute art sprint and post the results. Once you’ve completed the sprints, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions and make it feel complete, and whatever work you feel appropriate to get your art to a state you consider ‘finished’).

Please note you may sprint in the language of your choice, and you can either translate the final fic before posting, post it in the original language, or both as you choose. You can join us on the LBSC discord or sprint on your own! Just be sure to tag @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers in your final post so we will see it and reblog it. The rest of the rules can be found here under the cut.

Rules!

We’ll post a beginning and end date to the challenge, and a prompt.

Writers, If you choose to participate in the event, write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). You can also choose to break that 45 minutes up differently if you find a different split works better for you.  After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got. Tag your posts with @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers so we can reblog it to the LBSC blog. If you post your work on AO3 or somewhere other than Tumblr, you can leave a link in our ask box or in the appropriate discord channel so we can be sure to promote it. After the designated challenge end date, we’ll compile a listing of the submissions and post it to the LBSC blog.

Feel free to sprint in whatever language is most comfortable to you! You can post it in your own language or translate it before posting, or both!

Artists, you have 45 minutes to sketch and 24 hours to do any cleanup or coloring you’d like to complete. You can split your 45 minutes up however you like, or not at all. There’s no requirements on your finished piece, just aim for whatever goal seems challenging but achievable to you.  Tag your posts with @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers so we can reblog it to the LBSC blog. If you post your work on Instagram or somewhere other than Tumblr, you can leave a link in our ask box or in the appropriate discord channel so we can be sure to promote it. After the designated challenge end date, we’ll compile a listing of the submissions and post it to the LBSC blog.

If you’re wavering as to whether or not you think you can accomplish anything in 45 minutes, we really encourage you to give the challenge a try. You may be surprised what you can do! Feel free to join us in the discord linked above so we can encourage and cheer you on.

Obviously, this has to run a bit on the honor system and we won’t be tracking your times, but please do your best to honor the spirit of the challenge! If your sprint fic becomes an Entire Thing (these things happen sometimes) and you want to continue it, feel free! However, please still post whatever you’ve got after your 3 sprints with the tag. No fair busting out a fully polished fic or art without showing us what it looked like at the challenge stage!

We want to keep this a positive space and event! This does NOT mean that you can’t write or draw anything critical of a character or episode, but it isn’t the space for character bashing or hate either. Please keep the characters in character and save the more speculative work for another time. NSFW sprint works are permitted but must be tagged appropriately (please use “NSFW LBSC sprint challenge” for easy filtering on the blog) and with appropriate warnings.  (More FAQ about the process here)

This is a Lukanette blog and a Lukanette event, so while Lukanette does not need to be the main ship, it needs to at least be included or referenced and considered endgame (in other words, they don’t have to be together by the end of your work, but the intent is that they’re headed in that direction). The decision about what qualifies for reblog rests solely with the LBSC moderators. If a piece hasn’t been reblogged within a couple of days, either the mods felt the piece didn’t meet the criteria or it was simply missed; you are welcome to reach out in the asks to inquire which. There are plenty of other spaces out there for other ships and OT3s, and people are welcome to use the challenge rules and prompts to write for their own ships! They just won’t be reblogged to the LBSC blog, and we ask that you please not use the event tag (a modified form is fine - “InsertAlternateShipName sprint challenge” instead of “LBSC sprint challenge,” for example).

Happy sprinting!

[laughroditee]

COD Fanfic Collab Feeler Post (Poll at bottom)

Hello, my lovelies! I am thinking about hosting a fic event built around the idea of "exquisite corpse," where everyone writes a little bit, but no one knows what anyone else is writing until the very end, and the result is a finished piece of bizarre fiction.

🚨SOME GROUND RULES🚨 (I may add more if more come up. Yes, I am a hag.)

There will be a central theme to unify everyone's pieces, though the end result will still be weird AF, like a glitch in the Matrix. There may also be a tone as well, but I'm still deciding on that.

In total, this would be a month-long event, with a maximum number of participants equal to the number of days in that month. So if we do October (which is what I hope to do, but we'll see), a maximum of 31 participants. For November: 30. You get the picture. If the event does not gain enough participants to max out, whoever has joined by the cutoff will just go again, and we'll cycle through until the end.

This would run a bit like a baton relay since each person's contribution builds on the previous installment. For example, I'll start the fic as number one (because it's my event), then send the last sentence to number two. Number two sends their last sentence to number three, and so on. Due to this, TIMING IS SO IMPORTANT! We want to be able to get through everyone's posts in a timely manner since we're not all writing at the same time; we're doing it in a chain.

For that reason, WRITING would take place the month before, and each writer would schedule their post for their assigned day at noon during the event month. So, if we really are going to be doing a Halloween fic, then writing would take place in September, with each post being scheduled for the writer's assigned day in October.

If this is a thing that will happen, I will be making everyone a shitty event banner to place at the top of their post with the event and their entry number so people know this is a chain of fics, and appropriate links to the beginning, previous entry, and next entry should be included in your post to support your fellow creators and help readers navigate the bullshit of this thing we're building together. (I understand that some links won't be able to be added until the posts are public.)

A common event tag should also be used but I haven't decided what it is yet. Probably "#cod exquisite corpse" to keep it simple.

Everyone gets a word count CAP of 500 words. So LESS THAN 500 words is ideal! If you go over 500, those extra words will be cut off, and whatever is left in that truncated sentence is what will get sent to the next person to finish and build on as their prompt (so be kind to the person after you and don't go over).

Smut is okay (tag your post with appropriate warnings - I will say no CNC or non-con for this, sorry), but I will challenge everyone to use gender-neutral!Reader and/or canon x canon to keep everyone on the same page and to let as many people have a good time here. If that doesn't sound like a good time to you, you don't have to participate. If you need tips on writing gender-neutral smut, please leave a comment, and I'm sure our lovely community can give some tips.

Please also watch for POC-inclusive writing, as not every skin tone blushes, not everyone wants/can have fingers running through their hair, etc. Again, if you need help with this, there have been MANY posts floating around in the community if you've missed them. You can also leave a comment, and we'll see if we can get some tips together.

Please be inclusive about body size, in both height and weight, so that our tall and fat Readers can get some love too. As such, there will be no size difference kinks for this event. I realize that making a "perfectly neutral Reader" may be challenging (and "perfect" is a loaded term), but I know it's doable, as I've seen people do it. If you don't want to do that, no one is forcing you to participate.

No killing characters since that's a major continuity issue lol. 💀 There will already be enough continuity issues with people fucking every other chapter with zero further mention of it, but that's beside the point.

And finally, keep it light, keep it fun, AND BE KIND. Fandom is supposed to be silly-funny, so let's get along and make our dolls kiss everyone.

I realize this is a lot, and honestly, this event may not pan out. It may be a lot more like herding cats than anything else. I'm just making this post to preemptively determine how much interest there is before I go making event banners and stuff and wasting my time.

So finally...

[mazerunner-rarepairs]

Maze Runner Rarepair Bingo: Rules and FAQ

Which ships qualify as rareships?

All ships with less than 150 fics where they are the main ship posted to ao3.

Qualify: Brenderesa, Soniet, Minally, Nally, Trenda, Nalby + all other possible ships you can think of!

Don't qualify: Thomesa, Thomally, Newtmas, Thominho, Minewt, Thominewt

When does the event take place?

The bingo runs throughout the month of May - May 1st to May 31st.

Read on for rules & FAQ 🔽

Rules

When posting, tag this blog and add the tumblr tag #rareshipbingo2024. Indicate which square your submission fills.

Fic and Artwork needs to be original, that means created for the event.

Any submission types are welcome for the Rarepair Bingo. fanart, fic, fanvids, moodboards, podfics - knock yourselves out!

The AO3 board however can only be filled with fic.

All topics are allowed, the one important thing is to tag your works appropriately. With darker themes err on the side of caution. If you're unsure, feel free to reach out.

If you post nsfw fics to tumblr, make sure you put the text under a read more break (just type :readmore: and hit enter).

You must be 18+ to submit explicit content.

I will be marking all nsfw submissions with the community label for sexually explicit content, so those who don't want to see nsfw submissions make sure to enable community labels.

This event allows all kind of content regarding maturity and topic - I expect followers and participants to practise good fandom culture and adhere to the don't like don't read principle. No bashing ships or tropes you personally don't like.

Unnecessarily hateful comments are to be deleted without response after you notify me, the mod, about them. (Just message this blog)

Upload your fics to the AO3 collection .

Addition made on May 5th: platonic ships are also allowed! For more info see this post.

Clarification: the rarepair needs to be the main focus of the fic. pairings that don't qualify as rareships can appear in your work, but only as a side ship. if you're unsure about this rule feel free to contact me.

FAQ

Is there a minimum word count for fics? No.

Are poly ships allowed? Yes.

Can one submission count for multiple squares from the same board? No. You have to decide which square you want to "use" your submission on, even if it combines prompts.

Can one submission fount for 2 squares on different boards? Yes! Eg if you write a fic for the square "poetry" and it's also the first fic for a ship, it can count for both the poetry square and the "write the first fic for a ship".

Can I submit WIPS? Yes.

Can I submit new chapters of a current WIP? Yes. If you have a rareship fic that you've been dying to continue, feel free to use the bingo as a motivator!

When is the reblogging perios? May 1-31st.

How does the Extra Rare Advanced AO3 Bord (For The Very Insane) work?

All the AO3 squares are to be filled in regards to the AO3 tag before April 22 - today.

Example: if you want to write a Rachel/Miyoko fic, and someone coincidentally would post one before the start of the bingo, your Rachel/Miyoko fic would still count for the "Be the first to write a ship" square.

Similarly, and using the same example as before, if 2 bingo participants decided they wanted to write Rachel/Miyoko, the person who posts their submission second would still get to fill the "Be the first to write a ship" square.

This applies to all AO3 squares:

If your fic is longer than all the fics posted before April 22, it fills the "Write the longest existing fic for a ship" square.

If before April 22nd there was no "General Audiences" rated fic for the rareship of your choice, your fic fills the "Be the first to write a rating no one has written for the ship before" square.

If you need help using the AO3 filtering system to figure out if you would be the first to write for a ship or for any of the other AO3 squares, drop this blog an ask and I'll help you out! I know not everyone is familiar with AO3 and I want this event to be open to everyone, including AO3 newcomers.

-

If any questions remain, don't hesistate to get in touch!

This post may be edited if further questions arise.

[maribat-calendar-events]

MARIBAT ARROW APRIL 2023

April is dedicated to the ARROWS. This can be any member of the Green Arrow/Arrowverse extended family.

Roynette Shippers This Is Your Month!

Got an even rarer pair? Those work too!

It can also be BioFam!

Do one prompt! Do them all! Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity. No Pressure.

This year we are adding an extra prompt weeks for the most popular arrow ship: Roynette! Like with the calendar, only write those prompts which inspire you. You don't have to do them all, and you don't have to do both (though, extra kudos to anyone who tries).

AO3 COLLECTION:

This is the same collection from last year, with a new tag, so if you are looking for last year's this is it now.

TAGS FOR BOTH TUMBLR AND AO3: 

#Arrow April #Arrow April 2023

BE SURE TO TAG THIS BLOG @MARIBAT-CALENDAR-EVENTS AND REBLOG SO OTHERS GET A CHANCE TO SEE TOO!

Guidelines

Any orientation or relationship style is welcome and encouraged (familial, platonic, romantic, aged-up NSFW)!

Any creative works (writing, fics, drabbles, head-canons, art, poetry, incorrect quotes, etc.) are accepted

Tag @maribat-calendar-events in your works so we can share it

Use the hashtag so others can see your work

Keep NSFW works under the ‘Keep Reading’ line with an appropriate warning above

Questions? Send us a message/ask, or contact @izanae

Get creative and have fun! We all look forward to your participation and submissions!

[weylerwritingevents]

Wyler Kink Bingo - Rules and FAQs

Here is everything you need to know about our upcoming summer of smut kink bingo!

Rules: (adapted from the SPNkinkevents tumblr)

You are expected to respect the work of all participants. Anyone caught behaving otherwise will be automatically disqualified from participation and blocked by the blog.

No plagiarism will be tolerated - suspicions of plagiarism should be brought to the attention of this blog so that they can be investigated.

Fills featuring an OT3 are permissible so long as Wednesday and Tyler are both apart of the relationship (Example: Wyclay).

Please tag ships/kinks/ratings appropriately.

Tag each submission with the corresponding kink listed on your card. For example, if you're writing for pain play, tag #pain play.

If you are creating Fanart, Graphics, Gifsets, etc. that are nsfw, it may be helpful to you to host them on another site in place of or in addition to Tumblr due to Tumblr’s anti-p*rn guidelines and then link them - it’s up to you!

If you post your entire fic to Tumblr, please be sure to insert a readmore to keep posts from being overly long

You must tag for Noncon, Underage (under 18), extreme underage (under 13), cannibalism, bestiality, necrophilia, and character death if your work contains them. If you do not tag for those, your work will not be reblogged or considered a fill until you do so.

You may complete more than one bingo card, but only after having finished one in its entirety. We encourage you to explore writing for kinks that you may not normally!

One kink per fic - meaning, you can't write a single piece containing multiple kinks from your card (of course, many kinks overlap, but the fic will be consider a single fill only). You can, however, write a multichapter fic with a different kink for each chapter - and each chapter will be considered a separate fill!

Free space: Fill this space with a kink of your choice.

We highly recommend that you cross-post to another server as well, such as Archive of Our Own.  We have a collection on AO3 for your creations.

Examples of acceptable submissions:

Fanfiction and Poetry

Fanart

Graphics

Gifsets

Picspam

Playlists

Fanvids

Point system:

1 fill = 10 pts

Full bingo card (all 9 squares) = 140 pts (90 + extra 50)

FAQs

Q: What if I missed the signups deadline (June 30th)? A: if you miss the deadline, please feel free to message this blog to see if you can still join.

Q: Can I write a fill for another writing event combined with this one? A: Our bingo allows writing one piece for two (or more) events, as long as both prompts are filled. Make sure the other writing event allows that too!

Q: Is there a minimal amount of words per fill? A: There isn't! right as much or as little as you like.

Q: What does competing for points mean? A: When we finish the kink bingo (August 31st), all participants should post a masterlist of their creations, so we could reblog all of your smutty, kinky pieces. However, if you want your creations not only shared but also calculated using the point system above, you need to mention that using the sign up form. You don't have to compete for points if you don't want to!

Q: Can I get more than one card? A: You're more than welcome to claim another card once you finish your first one.

Q: I have Hyde Sex in my bingo card, or plan to write hyde sex with a different kink. Should I tag for bestiality? A: The proper tag/warning for that case would be monsterfucking, monster sex or simply hyde sex.

Q: Where is the ao3 collection for all the creations made for this bingo? A: The ao3 collection can be found here. Make sure you post your works to this collection. Please tag your tumblr post of the story with #wyler kink bingo as well.

Q: Who is running this event? A: The mods are @suchaladyy, @therulerofallpotatos, and @wincestation.

Any other questions or requests? Feel free to drop an ask!

[thebestcrew]

It's always fascinating finding out people have us blocked that we have never interacted with. Overall, I like to think we've never been antagonistic towards anyone in tags. Never attacked anyone. Never harassed. We've been very civil, even in our disagreements (that I recall at least). We have a few side blogs, and not many people have the main account blocked, so I always find out only after I go to make a comment and then see what accounts are greyed out. Silly little bonus feature of side blogs.

So

Is it because we sometimes have syscourse?

Is it because we are endogenic or identity as mixed origin?

Is it because we support all forms of plurality?

It's an amusing game. People may block for so many reasons, but those are the three main things we can think of. It's particularly amusing when people love or agree with things on our side blog but apparently hate this account. Extra funny.

If it's because people think we are toxic or out to get systems and corrupt singlets and poison traumagenic systems, then I feel quite awful for someone living in such a fearful and distorted outlook on life and others. Well, if that was the case, then why is our popular side blog not blocked? That blog is all of those things and very loud about it. But also, my partner is a DID system. I am very, very aware that multiplicity is not a silly little game. To say I spread misinformation and am bad for CDD systems blows my mind when I spend every day supporting one. What happens on Tumblr is pointless at the end of the day because what *really* matters is the support and understanding I give to them. We are a living example of how STUPID syscourse is between endogenic and traumagenic systems. Get the fuck off of social media and actually spend time supporting eachother instead of fighting.

Oh! Mayhaps it's our age. It's always interesting when it's our age. I promise we are not creeps and are quite safe to be around. Siblings, work, friends, and online communities have made me very aware of what is appropriate and how to coexist amongst a wide age range of people. I wanted to be a teacher once, and still would love to be an elementary art teacher. I promise I don't bite.

Maybe it's our fictives. I know some people cannot stand their sources or them as individuals. Which again is quite sad. Ashe and Alastor are both amazing people. I dont think I've met a single person who didn't like Ashe once they got talking with her (minus like two assholes that were ultimately voted as assholes by the entire server lol). I point her out because she's been here the longest and I owe her a lot so yeah I kinda play favorites a bit. Because I honestly love her. I say this with all the love for Al and the newest member. They aren't hurt by me saying that. They get it. Honestly, I don't think Al cares enough to be offended.

Maybe it's because I'm a furry. People always hate on furries. But that's okay. People hate on anyone who is different from them. Its why the furry, queer, and alterhuman community are so tight-knit. I'm just a silly fox in the end.

Is it because I'm critical of behavior and use of terms by people who kff or are transid? Is it because I'm thiiiiis close to being that "awful" trans guy that would still classify himself as a lesbian if only I could stop shifting gender representation every few years?

Is it because I'm working through trauma and people think that suddenly makes me being endogenic a lie? Is that the proof that people need to hate me? You hate systems with trauma and you hate systems without it. There's no winning.

Is it because I promote daemonism? *GASPS*

I'm not mad at being blocked. The internet hates and blocks people for so many reasons. I block a specific group of people every time we see them in the tags. I do it because I TRY to live by the motto if I have nothing nice to say I shouldn't say it at all. I also apply this to thoughts. If I see posts that constantly make me think shitty things about people and they aren't actively harming me or the people I care for, I block them. Because placing that into the universe is kinda fucked, even if they never would know about it.

I don't NEED people to like me. But I'll admit it's been a HUGE hurdle in my life. Trying to not care about what others think about me has always been a major issue growing up. I think everyone and anyone can relate to that. There's a saying I try and keep to and its how I'm going to end this post. [GRANTED this post has been an intoxicated, headache fueled rant at 2 in the morning. We all know how things get around 2 and 3. That's when shit gets fun (no it really doesn't I just want to sleep please) ]