#what a crazy ass introduction to all the characters

[neo-shitty]

euphoria 🚬

[wlwmedarda]

I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.

Sevika:

Mel:

Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️.

Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!

Ekko:

This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?

Ambessa:

Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.

Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 1 — I’m Just Dreaming Of Tearin’ You Apart

⛸️ Summary: Practicing for the Spring Championship preliminaries with your longtime crush wasn’t something you expected and neither was being treated to coffee by the man you despised most in the world, yet both happened in the span of a week. Besides figure skating competitions and hockey games, your best friends created a game of their own involving money and your love life.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

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

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), a lot of swearing, petnames (princess), mention of drugs and sex in a joking manner, use of alcohol, chaotic friendship, friendly fights, a lot of side-characters, mingi is a bit of a dick, MDNI!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.5K

⛸️ Author's note: I'm finally uploading this!! I know I said it was going to be an oneshot, but I wrote too much to post it all in one go so I decided to make it into a mini-series instead. There will be five parts to Cold Hands, Warm Heart and I'll upload every Friday starting from today. It's crazy to think I've been writing this whole thing since October last year, like what?!

The first part is more of an introduction to all the characters and me easing you into the plot rather than starting off too strong with the main pairing, so there isn't a lot of scenes with Mingi, but there will be plenty in the future. Anyway, I won't keep you for too long! Enjoy and tell me your thoughts ❤️

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

The sound of blades against ice and the smell of a freezer empty of food brought you great comfort, and it continued to do so for a century and a half. The ice rink was your second home — not the college or your grandma’s house — heck, you could maneuver the place better than your own home. Abel Korzeniowski’s Charms blasted pleasantly through the speakers in the hall as you stood in the middle of the ice with your hands raised and knees slightly bent. The arena was completely empty, which wasn’t anything weird considering it was six AM on a Monday. You slowly moved across the ice in sync to the music, leaving all your thoughts and worries in the parking lot outside. There were only you and the ice. 

As the music gradually picked up its pace, you began doing light spins and jumps. You imagined the arena to be packed with people, their excited eyes following your elegant figure, and cheers going off like cannons after every stunt. In tune with the music reaching its turning point, you propelled yourself up and spun in the air, only for the melody to be abruptly cut off. 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. 

You masked the expression of hurt and threw a glare towards the music booth planted between the penalty boxes. Rephrasing, you threw a glare at the guy inside the music booth. If there was anything figure skating couldn’t help you with, it was Song Mingi, the right defenceman of the Blue Wolves and the biggest douchebag known to mankind. The mankind in question was you.

“Piss off, Song. The rink is booked until 10 AM.”

The large man leaned into the mic, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face, “Can’t do sweetheart. We have an upcoming match against the Red Tigers, so we need to practice.”

In three strokes you reached the worn out glass separating you two. 

“Listen here, punk,” you breathed out a cloud of fog. “I don’t care what you have or when you have it; the rink is occupied, so take your little pack of chihuahuas and fuck off!” 

Mingi made himself comfortable on the chair, hands intertwined behind his neck and long legs perched up on the desk. He was not going anywhere unless it was on that ice.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until you’re done.” 

“Wait, wait! He said what?!” 

In the midst of retelling the events of your morning, you were interrupted by Keeho. Everything about his judging tone told you he was more than disgusted at the new piece of information and a peek at his face — lips slightly curled, front teeth exposed, and eyes squinted — confirmed your suspicion. Keeho was very vocal with his opinions, vocal and bold, and you picked up on that in the short time you got to know him. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see his hands resting on his hips, adding that sprinkle of sass you both loved and despised. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed exasperatedly and bit into your spring roll. 

Choi Dasom, your roommate and childhood best friend, wore her signature sweet smile that made her cheeks chubbier and outshone her fiery red hair. She, unlike you and Keeho, was delighted to hear about your terrible morning, especially at the mention of the one-who-shall-not-be-named. 

“Wipe that grin off your face, Dasom.”

You squinted at her overly happy expression. There was no malice to your words and if it weren’t for your ten year long friendship she wouldn’t have mustered up an even bigger smile, showing off her pearly whites and dimples. No one could ever be mean to Dasom, one look at her round face and sparkly eyes, and they’d be wrapped around her pinky like a phone cord. She was just that cute. If they somehow managed to look past her cuteness then they'd have to deal with you or Keeho and that was never a pleasant outcome. 

The three of you sat criss crossed on the floor of your and Dasom’s shared apartment. An array of takeaway boxes littered the usually clean room as you caught up on each other’s lives; in other words, they listened to your venting about a specific hockey player.

“I just don’t see how this connects to your broken phone screen,” Keeho said and mentioned to the device beside you, sneakily hastening you to get to the ‘juicy part’ as he referred to it. 

Too blinded by the simmering anger you waltzed right into Keeho’s trap, granting him new gossip worthy material. Not that he had anyone to share it with besides the two of you, but he liked knowing everyone’s business, something you swore would come and bite him in the ass sooner or later.

“Well, my dear Keeho, wait til you hear the rest of the story.”

The heel of Mingi’s foot hit your phone, hurling it to the ground. A taunting ‘oops’ fell from his lips, but he stayed seated. 

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted from inside the rink. 

In a flash you were beside Mingi, inspecting your phone for any injuries. A big, singular crack stretched from one end of the screen to the other and you could feel invisible steam erupt from your ears. The phone survived so many concrete collisions and water incidents, but it obviously had to break at Mingi’s hand (or feet).

“Oh, did it crack?” 

Mingi stood up, eyes cast on the screen and hands shoved into his gray sweatpants. Not an ounce of concern or remorse crossed his features and you didn’t know what made you more angry - his nonchalance or mere presence.

“Did it crack? Did it crack?!”

“Alright, no need to shout.”

You knew after a full year of constant bickering and mean pranks that Mingi wasn’t all that well. Maybe he got one too many blows to the head, suffered far more concussions than convenient, who knew? 

You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt multiple times, which proved to be useless, and it took a broken screen for you to finally realize that. A curse so foul it would have his ancestors turning in their graves rested on your tongue, but as you opened your mouth, a puck aimed at your head was flung at the plexiglas, shutting you up in an instant. The same heinous laughs from earlier echoed around you, this time from inside the rink.

You stood there, phone in hand, and hopelessly stared at the sight before you.

Mingi watched the whole thing play out and didn't say a thing. Not that he had much to say, it was his idea from the start. The guys wouldn't stop complaining about you hogging the ice and the least he could do for his team was to get you off. That way he could also get his daily dose of prancing on your nerves. 

It was like killing two birds with one stone. 

Until he awkwardly stood there, contemplating whether to apologize or serve you with another snarky reply. 

He ran his hand through his ashy blonde hair. All the thinking was starting to tire him out and he just wanted to put on his skates and blow some steam off. You were being unfair. They needed the rink more than you, but you just couldn’t be nice and give in for once. 

“No hard feelings, princess.”

“Wow, he really is a dick,” Keeho muttered while examining your phone. “Well, I mean, we already knew that, but I didn’t think he’d be that much of a dick.”

You hummed in agreement as he passed the device to Dasom. 

“No, I’ve always known and I’ve been telling you guys so for the past year but no one listens to me.”

“Hey! I do and I’ve always agreed with you; it’s Dasom who’s being poetic and shit.”

The girl giggled at Keeho’s bluntness. “I’m not being poetic, Kyo. I just think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

You and Keeho exchanged knowing glances, emotionless eyes and lips set into firm lines, silently agreeing she was tuning into her artistic side. Her smile, bright as ever, didn’t falter, and she simply shrugged before slurping down the last of her food. Keeho clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and flickered her forehead. 

“Wow, what happened to common decency? Table manners, hello?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. I saw you spit out that chicken,” you butted in with a roll of your eyes.

“It was all rubbery and– ugh. I can’t swallow that!” He defended himself while pointing at the overly chewed piece of chicken on his plate and pushing it closer to your face. You flinched back and hurled, the noise activating Dasom too, and soon you were all in a never-ending fit of retching.

“It’s the last time I let you bring a friend into our circle!” 

You recalled the day Dasom introduced you to Keeho and you’ve regretted it ever since, but there were moments you actually found joy in his company and they served as a reminder of why you put up with him in the first place. At the end of the day you still agreed to have study sessions at the library with his nose in a thick literature book and your fingers dancing across your keyboard.

“Can you, I don’t know, not abuse your laptop like that? I can’t concentrate with your loud fingers.”

“You sure it isn’t your thoughts keeping you distracted? I mean, I’d be too if my voice was that annoying.”

Keeho gifted you his signature glare, which you grew immune to. “Okay, first of all ouch and second of all, fuck you, my voice is not annoying or loud for that matter either.”

“Then go back to your reading.”

“I can’t,” he whined and closed his book with a thud, then slid his arm over the table, his cheek resting against his bicep with a pout.

A mere two hours passed since you met up outside the coffee shop closest to the university and not once did he shut up. From ordering your drinks to finding an empty table in the library his mouth worked and at first you saw it as a good thing, thinking he’d run out of things to talk about by the time you started studying. That lasted for about three hundred words in your essay.

“Keeho-ya, go back to reading. We still have some time before your shift starts.”

“I knooooow, but I’m tired and this shit’s boring me out.” 

You threw a quick glance at the book he was referring to, Animal Farm, and for once you understood him. The piece wasn’t the most interesting literature in the world and Keeho wasn’t that hard to entertain so it was pretty shit. Books based on real-life stories or romance themed novels were his favorites; anything other than that was a no-go and wouldn’t keep him occupied for more than five minutes.

“Why can’t we read The Outsiders instead? It’s so much better and more realistic. Like, when are pigs ever overthrowing the government?”

You snorted and pushed your laptop aside, taking the book in your hands. The cover did little to lure you in and it was no surprise that Keeho found it boring. He was like a child, giving his undivided attention to anything flashy and colorful. You quickly flipped through the pages and nearly passed out at the never-ending words before putting it back down. 

“I’m pretty sure Orwell’s talking about the Russian Revolution back in the nineteen-hundred and the pigs are supposed to represent Trotsky and Stalin.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s still boring and doesn’t really call out to me.” 

You hummed in understanding, “You don’t have much of a choice, Kyo. Read it or don’t; you’ll still have to write an essay about it.”

Keeho whined in agony and smacked his forehead against the table, once, twice and on the third smack you hit the back of his head with the book. He jerked back up and rubbed the spot you just whacked, his hand running through his black hair, doing little to soothe the pain.

“What was that for?!”

The librarian, a woman old enough to be your grandmother, shushed him from her desk. Icy eyes were shooting daggers through her half-rimmed glasses and if it weren’t for her age Keeho would challenge her with a glare of his own.

“What was that for?” He repeated but in a whisper, glancing between you and the librarian, checking to see if she heard him now.

“To get you motivated. Now, read,” you hissed and turned back to your work, purposely ignoring the stare of Ms. Bang. She wanted you to shush, then you’d damn well stay shushed.

Keeho sighed obnoxiously and stilled as his gust of air reached your face, but you held your ground and played it off as nothing. You knew if you showed any sign of irritation he’d just continue to annoy you until you caved in and left for the day. With your determination you managed to stay rooted to your seats for a while and if it weren’t for Keeho’s yelp about being late to work, you’d probably be there a little longer. Hastily you threw your stuff in your bag and ran out of the library with Keeho in tow. You didn’t miss the scowling look of Ms. Bang. Knowing she didn’t sign up to deal with annoying brats when applying for her job, you offered her a tight-lipped smile as an apology.

“Tell Dasom I need her help after work!” Keeho shouted and sprinted down the street, not bothering to wait for the reply you still gave him.

“Text her yourself!”

Nonetheless you whipped out your phone and as you were about to unlock it, your eyes fell on the four digitals showing 11:50 AM. A low ‘shit’ slipped past your lips and identical to Keeho, you took off running towards the training facility. 

If you weren’t dressed and ready for practice in the next ten minutes, it’d be better if you never showed up. Your coach had a set of ground rules he established the moment you were assigned his trainee fifteen years ago.

Come on time, be presentable and ready.

Have a clear and motivated attitude. 

And most important of all, trust your coach.

Jung Hoseok, your coach, wasn’t stern per se. He was a really sweet and kindhearted man who taught you everything you knew about figure skating — from gliding backwards to your first upright spin — you owed this man everything. Although he had a kind soul, a heart shaped smile and dimpled cheeks, you knew better than to defy him. After all, it wasn’t his thoughtful persona that brought him success. Courage, discipline and taking risks did. 

Summoning all the cardio exercises done in life, you managed to turn the seven minute journey into five, sparing enough time to change into your practice clothes and skates. The October wind did little to prepare you for the chilly temperature inside; your nose, cheeks and ears were painfully cold despite the thick scarf wrapped around your head.

“In time as usual,” Hoseok commented as you walked out of the changing room, a whistle dangling down his neck and eyes cast on the clipboard in his hands.

“I’d never dare be late for your practice, Coach.”

“And I take pride in that. Now get on the ice, we have a lot to do.”

With that you took off your pink guards and did a little stretching. Routinely you wiped your hands down your thighs, you liked to imagine it as a way of leaving any misfortune off the rink. It was a silly thing you did years ago and it stuck with you since then.

“Again!”

The rite must have lost its charm because everything was going to shit. Not once did you finish the whole number, messing it up halfway through and being forced to go from the top only to fail on the same part.

You huffed out a clouding breath of air and skated back to the center of the rink. Mr. Jung watched you from the sidelines, sporting a frown so big you wanted to cry. His nose faced the ceiling and his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t a good sign, how could it be when you were messing up big time? You shied away from his piercing eyes and took your stance, one arm elegantly thrown over your head that followed its direction. The other hand was professionally relaxed by your side and legs steady on the blades. You started slowly just as the video showed you a handful of times. Gliding backwards and forwards, your arms moved in swirls as you gradually picked up the pace. The first jump wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple triple-toe loop. 

Easy, you thought after landing and prepared yourself for the next takeoff. 

The video you watched with Mr. Jung showed a recording of him doing the Salchow jump going straight into a sit-spin as the music quickened. 

It was hard to move to the sound of nothing besides your own breathing and blades scraping against the ice. With music you could at least time yourself better and get lost in the world of imagination. You held your breath as you pushed up from the ice with your right foot, doing a light spin and landing on your other blade then snapped into a sitting position with your left leg connected to the ground. The other was stretched out with its heel facing outward and your arms stacked on top of each other straight out in front of you. After the sixth spin you graciously straightened out your skating leg and stood up, arms moving to your chest and then forward again as you checked out. 

You continued sliding around the rink, building up tension and fully catching the attention of the imaginary audience. Your dominant foot continued facing forward and the other turned in the opposite direction, legs squatting to form a square. The core of your body flexed as you arched your back, creating a ‘C’ with your whole being. Cold kisses ghosted along your neck and ears, fingers an inch from the ground. With little to no effort you snapped back into an upright position and prepared yourself for the highlight of the choreography — the part you couldn’t land — a triple axel. The second you saw Mr. Jung’s number, you knew you’d be struggling. You were a good skater, but not a magician. A triple axel would take a lot more than some wishful thinking and an hour of practice.

Did that knowledge lighten the burden on your shoulders? Not in the slightest.

Nonetheless you approached the jump with confidence, the key to every success in life, and  prepared yourself to jump. With a steady breath and enough speed you kicked up from the ice and rotated in the air; once, twice, and three times before gravity pulled you down, starting the landing phase. The blade of your skates skimmed the ice and just as you thought you had landed it, you became one with the ground. 

Your thigh took the majority of the fall, but it still hurt and if you didn’t know any better you’d think your femur was broken. With shaky legs you stood back up on your skates. A whispered curse slipped out as you rubbed your knuckles along your thigh. You didn’t know what hurt more; falling or failing. The sound of a whistle cut through the arena before you could take your starting position. You halted in place and turned to Mr. Jung who held the same solemn expression throughout the whole number. The walk from the center to him was short and your lips pursed in disappointment. He was cutting practice short. It rarely happened, some days you’d even go over time. 

“We’ll stop there for today. I’ll send you the choreography. Study it thoroughly and come mentally prepared next time because we’re not quitting til you land it.”

You fiddled with your fingers and nodded at his words. 

“Great, get some rest until then, yeah?” 

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

He raised a brow, slightly surprised at your spirit. After your last fall he was sure you’d be frustrated beyond belief, too tired to continue and too angry to give up. He smacked his lips, “Alright, one hour tops. Don’t overwork yourself. Resting is a slow way to success but it’s still a way.”

Before Mr. Jung completely took his leave, he turned to you one more time. “I’ll be back to take my things. If you’re still here by then I’ll make sure you don’t attend the competition at all, understood?”

You jumped into a military stance, back straight and fingers pushed against the side of your head.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

You deflated the moment his figure disappeared behind the big metal doors. After fifteen years of skating under his watchful eyes, you knew his threat wasn’t an empty promise. Leave it to Mr. Jung to make you anxious about the competition months before D-Day. You squished your cheeks between your hands and delivered two slaps to each side of your face.

“C’mon, focus.” 

Ten tries, ten fails and ten bruises later zero progress was made. One would think you’d do better without Mr. Jung’s breathing down your neck like a dragon, but there you were barely landing a single axel. You were one fail away from ripping your hair out.

“Fuck me sideways. What the fuck is my problem?”

Skating with a jumbled mind would do you no good, so with a quick breathing practice you pushed all your thoughts aside and tried again. You swore it would be your last try before going home. 

Starting position. Triple-toe loop. Salchow jump into a sit-spin. Double axel. 

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen burned, begging you to stop. Before you could plummet to your knees and throw a mini-tantrum, clapping sounds echoed in the silent hall. You jerked your head up with a scowl on your face. The person had to be taunting you; nothing about that was applause worthy.

The last person you expected to encounter on a Tuesday afternoon, let alone receive praise from, was Hwang Hyunjin. The prettiest guy on campus. He looked just like the day you first saw him, unbelievably handsome. The top half of his black hair was hiding beneath a beanie; the rest fell to his neck and some strands obscured his face. A face sculpted by Phidas himself. Pink plump lips, big eyes and a slim nose. Taking in his relaxed form, eyes quickly roving over his broad chest and down to his slim waist, you thanked the heavens that he wasn’t your coach. You wouldn’t survive one session with him leaning against the border, hands gripping the border and veins appearing on his pale forearms, eyes trailing after you. 

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as he waved. The charming smile he gave you warmed your cheeks as a smile of your own grew. It was no wonder girls swooned over him, he truly was beautiful and this was him dressed in a simple black shirt and tights. He looked even better dressed up. Inching closer to where he was, you grabbed the railing and held onto it for dear life. Your legs wobbled like Bambi on ice and you weren’t ready to fall flat on your ass in front of your crush and fellow figure skater. A timid ‘hi’ fell from your lips and your heart landed a perfect triple axel as he greeted you back.

“Your program is great.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl and bashfully looked away, and then back at him again. “It’s not even near what it’s supposed to look like.”

This was the most you said to each other in the span of a year. You never did much talking besides polite ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ coming and going from the rink yet you knew more about him than your childhood best friend.

“Really?”

You mustered up a nod, afraid to embarrass yourself with words.

“Do you mind if I join you then?”

Whatever you did in your past life to earn this must have been something noble, perhaps serving a king or saving a village from starvation. You nodded again, your lips perking up and eyes shining with excitement. As Hyunjin faced away from you to put his skates on, you buried your head in your hands and bit back a worrisome squeal.

“By the way I’m not like doing this to coach you or anything. I just thought you looked a bit… distracted and could use some help to loosen up.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I could really use the help, coach or not.”

He huffed a soft chuckle at your honesty and skated to the center of the rink with you behind. 

“I’m happy to be of service.” 

He mockingly bowed and you allowed yourself to laugh, feeling your whole body heat up despite the cool arena air.

“Okay, so put this on.” 

Hyunjin handed you his beanie and your eyes widened as the rest of his hair fell around his face. You wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. You gently pinched the black material between your hands — even his clothes were soft to the touch — and put it on. Hyunjin hummed as it covered your ears and head, then he gingerly reached out and pushed it over your eyes. 

“Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Perfect. Just stay right there,” he said, his blades cutting the surface grew more and more distant by the second. There was a lot of trust put in his hands and you were starting to feel foolish, standing there like a stick figure with an expensive cap covering your sight.

“Do you hear me?”

Your head snapped towards his voice and you nodded. 

“Okay, come find me.”

The whole time you cautiously moved along the slippery ice you couldn’t help but think how silly it must look for outsiders. You conclude that if it weren’t for Hyunjin and your stuttering heart, you’d never agree to this. He continued speaking out in the open, some sentences long and others consisting of a word or two. Getting the hang of skating blindfolded you sped up, arms stretched out in case of toppling over and as you were about to give up, your left hand came in contact with a warm surface.

Hastily you snatched the hat off your head and blinked fast at the bright lightning. Your heart stilled as you looked into Hyunjin’s scrunched eyes, a wide and dare you say proud smile overtaking his features. The cold air nipped at his rosy cheeks and nose, even his ears, and your fingers itched to cover them. 

“Found me,” he chuckled at your struck expression, parted lips and raised brows. “Wanna go again?”

The game continued for a few more rounds and with every new try you channeled your concentration better. On top of that you trusted your other senses to get you across the ice without flying head first. Best of all you weren’t as flustered around Hyunjin anymore. The eye contact lasted longer and you weren’t a stuttering mess. The last round was going great. It was your fastest game yet. As Hyunjin called your name you thrusted your arm out, practically flinging yourself forward. Your fingers clasped around the air and not the warmth of Hyunjin’s body you expected. A panicked gasp died in your throat as your feet flew under you and back gravitated towards the ground. You braced yourself — as much as one could do — for a concussion. Instead of feeling the hard ground, arms wrap around you. One hand resting between your shoulder blades and the other on your lower back.

“Gotcha,” Hyunjin whispered.

On instinct you grabbed his shoulders and pulled yourself closer to him, chests nearly touching and noses inches away. You could see a faint beauty mark below his eye, a feature you hadn’t known of before and heat rose to your cheeks at the sudden proximity. 

“You good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he moved you upright, his hands respectfully resting against your hips while yours slid around his neck. Your head turned downward, too nervous to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth, but you didn’t get to hear what he had to say as an agitating voice beat him to it.

“So the princess finally found her prince.”

You jumped from Hyunjin’s hold, his hands falling to his sides, creating a space big enough for two other people between you with your head whipping towards the entrance where a familiar figure stood, tall and bulky. The sly smirk painting his chiseled face was a sharp contrast to your scowling lips and wrinkled nose.

“And I see you’ve yet to find your manners.”

Something about Song Mingi brought out the devil in you. 

“You just have to ask nicely or is that too hard for you?”

The fifteen equally bulky guys all dressed in red and black gear behind him laughed at his remark. Children, they were a bunch of children. 

You threw them a glare they were more than acquainted with and in a poor attempt at masking your embarrassment, you kept your head down and stomped out of the rink, and walked through the group of guys that separated like a shoal of fish afraid of a great white shark. With record speed you grabbed your stuff and bolted for the changing rooms. Not once did you stop to think about the beautiful figure skater you left behind as your mind was occupied with intriguing images of delivering punches to the whole hockey team, starting from the shortest to the tallest. 

Bag slung over your shoulder and hands tucked deep in the pockets of your jacket, you strutted out of the arena. There was no way you’d head home now. Dasom had a group project she’d work on until late and you didn’t feel like being alone knowing the violent sound of bodies colliding and pucks sliding across ice would taunt you in the silence.

The bell above the ice cream parlor dinged as you stepped inside. The pleasant smell of freshly baked cones and vanilla extract hit you hard. The customers inside brushed you off, too immersed in their milkshakes and desserts to care about a girl with a scowl. 

“Hello and welcome to Kim’s ice cream parlor. How can I help you this fine ev– what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Kyo,” you greeted, dropping your bag on the floor by the counter seats. 

“Bad practice?”

“Try a bad day.”

You propped your elbows on the desk and tiredly leaned your chin on the palms of your hands. Keeho hummed, already preparing your usual order.

“Y’know I’m always up for some tea, but Jiung called in sick today so we’re one man short.”

You tried your best not to visibly deflate. The one time you needed to vent and get it out of your system no one was there. 

“That’s okay. S’nothing a banana split can’t fix, I guess.”

“Coming right up, sweetcheeks. It’s on the house just for you.”

New customers filled the little shop and you noticed your presence by the counter was still distracting Keeho so you did everyone a big favor and moved to a vacant seat by the big windows. The ice cream went down your throat and found its new home in your stomach. You’d usually be more strict with your food intake, having to be a certain weight and whatnot but some days just couldn’t be helped, especially when practice left you feeling like the biggest failure in the world and if that wasn’t enough then Mingi’s presence was a good enough reason to treat yourself.

Before taking your leave you sent Keeho a smile; he reciprocated and positioned his hand up to his cheek, the thumb and pinky finger extended in opposite directions. You chuckled at the gesture but nodded nonetheless. One way or another Keeho would end up hearing about your shitty day.

“Hello,” you called out as you gently threw your keys in the strawberry-shaped bowl — a housewarming gift by yours truly, Yoon Keeho — on the console table by the entrance.

“I’m in the kitchen!” 

You carelessly shrugged your coat off, allowing it to drop to the floor by your shoes and bag, before running off in her direction. Dasom softly hummed to a song playing on her laptop and you immediately relaxed as the melody reached your ears. There wasn’t a dent of worry in her life and you were grateful for that. At least one of you was in a good mood.

“Hey Dae-Dae,” you exhaled and plopped down on one of the four chairs around your dining table. 

Dasom wore a pink apron decorated with a big white heart over her knitted sweater and jeans, with a pair of matching mittens covering her hands. The apron was more for show than shielding her clothes from baking. 

“I’m baking cookies.” 

Minutes later you were sitting on the kitchen floor with a big plate of chocolate chip cookies between you and a cup of milk each. You picked up a cookie and moaned at its aroma of caramelized sugar and chocolate. Nevermind the banana split you inhaled twenty minutes ago, you were treating yourself for the rest of the night.

“How did the project go?” 

Dasom took a long sip of her milk trying to hide the way her lips curled upward. You nudged her thigh with your toe and wiggled your brows. 

“It’s exciting, a bit out of my comfort zone, but it’s still fun. We are actually working with the art majors. Everyone’s partnered with someone from the opposite class.” She dipped a cookie in her cup before continuing, “So the art majors have to write a poem about passion while we, creative writing majors, have to paint it.” 

“So the roles are reversed and how are you being graded on that exactly? Like no offense Dasom, but you kind of suck at drawing.”

“See that’s what I thought too, but the professors said we shouldn’t focus on how good our drawings are, but rather what it is we try to convey. Plus, they said we are paired up for a reason, so I guess we are supposed to ask each other for help?”

You hummed in understanding, it made more sense when she put it that way. “So who are you partnered with?”

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“The weird guy with the blue hair?”

“It’s black and white now, and he’s not weird, just… unobtrusive. Hongjoong’s actually kind,” she defended.

“Mmm, I don’t know Dae-Dae, it sounds awfully close to what you say about Mingi.”

Her invisible dog ears perked up and her tail wiggled excitedly from left to right. The hockey player was only ever mentioned after a run-in with the guy, both Keeho and Dasom knew that.

“Don’t keep me waiting!”

With another bite of your fourth cookie you spilled everything like an overflowing bucket. Starting from the study session to the unsuccessful practice and Hoseok’s disappointed look to the sweetest and most unreal moment with Hyunjin that was later ruined by Mingi–

“Oh my God!” 

Dasom dropped her cookie and jerked back, not expecting you to shriek like a banshee. “What?!”

The sudden realization of whose presence you forgot in the rink hit you like a truck. An uncomfortable heat twisted your guts as your thoughts began to spiral. You buried your head in your hands and as if that wasn’t enough he witnessed you explode on the whole hockey team, heard Mingi’s embarrassing taunts and watched you run out. 

“My outburst! I completely forgot about Hyunjin!”

“Oh…”

A silence settled over the kitchen. Neither of you knew what to say because what could one say in moments like these? A pat on the back and a somber smile would suffice although it wouldn’t ease your worries. A few seconds passed and Dasom eventually cleared her throat.

“You know what could be even worse? Like the cherry on top?”

Like a child, you peeked from behind your fingers. Eyes heavy and lips in a pout, “What?”

“Starting your period.”

Your childhood friend possessed an extravagant vocabulary with a cupboard full of advanced words and phrases. She could easily go on a poetic rampage about how you should see things from the brighter side or that some things happen for a reason. Yet she settled on a simplicity she knew would make you crack a smile.

“Amen to that.” 

You clinked your cups in a toast and downed the rest of the liquid like a shot. Milk clung to your upper lips like a childish white mustache and you broke out in laughter, pointing a finger to your index finger pointed at each other’s faces.

“I was thinking–”

“Uh oh, that never ends well.”

Dasom pouted and delivered a soft kick to your thigh. “Anyway, I was thinking we could have a girls’ night on Friday. Keeho’s invited too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you chimed.

“We can paint our nails, watch movies and eat a lot of snacks. Whatcha say?”

Mentally picturing the schedule of the week, you figured you’d need a day off and agreed to her idea. 

The sharp noise of a whistle blew through the arena and the eighteen guys clad in hockey gear and skates gathered along the centerline. The first half of the players got into position and awaited the second signal from their coach while the rest of the team stood behind their designated partner. As the high-pitched sound cut through the silence, the first batch bolted from their marks and the remaining guys shimmied closer to the line.

There were a lot of fun things about hockey, like boarding your opponent or shutting down their offenses. The lesser good was receiving penalties or a game misconduct, but the absolutely worst thing about hockey was the cardio exercises. 

When Mingi signed up for hockey practice at the age of five, he didn’t think much would come out of it. He was too uncoordinated with his legs to play soccer and his towering height didn’t make him any better at basketball either, but hockey on the other hand… Everyone was clumsy when it came to skating on ice. Like newborn foals, they were all shaking on their skates with hockey gear too big for their little bodies and barely able to locate the puck through the grid on their heads, Mingi managed just fine. The gnawing thoughts of standing out and being the worst amongst his peers wasn’t something little Mingi entertained anymore. Instead, he focused on growing and being better at the sport he actually enjoyed playing. As he got older, hockey got more serious and his interest for the sport broadened. His role model changed from his dad to Kim Kisung, and his big collection of Pokemon cards was replaced by hockey ones instead.

The dunk of a gloved hand collided with his back and Mingi took off like a rocket. He wasn’t the fastest or the most agile on the team, but he was great at using his height to crush explosive little wingers and it was the secret recipe of what kept him able to go for so long in games. There was no bigger joy than putting a stop to other’s plays and when there wasn’t anyone to stop or pucks to steal, the hockey Mingi loved was something he loathed. The ripping and slicing of multiple blades on ice sounded through the arena and despite working out five out of seven days of the week, Mingi still felt out of breath as he stopped a few steps over the centerline.

“A new lap is added for each player that slows down!” The old man standing by the entrance barked. 

Mingi could feel all eyes turn to him and if he wasn’t so busy catching his own breath, he’d gift them all with a good ol’ ‘go fuck yourselves’. 

“You heard the man, Song. Don’t let him catch you slowing down.” 

Turning his head to the right, the smug face of Jungkook came into view. Jungkook was a prime example of little wingers Mingi expertised in crushing. The player (both off and on court) behaved like the youngest of the team, despite being one of Mingi’s seniors, which gave him immunity to everyone’s wrath.

“Don’t make me remind you how it’s to be sent flying into the borders, JK.”

Throwing a quick glance at their coach, Jungkook smacked Mingi in the back of his head, which did little to no damage and only meant the helmet was doing its job of protecting Mingi from concussions. 

“It’s Jungkook-hyung for you, brat.”

“Song! Jeon! Less talking, more skating!” 

There was in fact not less talking and more skating, and the penalty resulted with three more laps for the rest of the team and a bunch of curses hurled at the instigators. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t ignore him,” Intak complained as he wrapped a white towel around his waist and ran his hand through his wet strands. 

Mingi followed suit, his own towel similarly tied around his waist and another smaller one thrown over his head soaking up the water dripping from his hair. 

“You know how he is,” Mingi defended and plopped down on the bench to easier rummage through his bag for a change of clothes. “He’d just say something else until I finally explode.”

“I know, but bro, we’ve been doing bag skates for weeks now. One of you has to give in and it’s gotta be you.”

Living up to his zodiac sign, Mingi was awfully stubborn and a sore loser, there was no way he’d ever let up. 

“Yeah, sure I might as well let him trample all over me while we’re at it.”

Intak, who moved over to the square mirror attached to the wall, caught Mingi’s eyes in the reflection and his own widened as an imaginary light bulb popped over his head. Adjusting his red cap — a stark contrast to his bleached hair — he turned around and his mouth formed into a suppressed smirk that looked something between puckered lips and a smile. Weirded out by the smuggish-look on his friend’s face, Mingi reeled back and raised a brow.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, no reason at all.”

“He probably just clocked why that figure skater puts up with your dumb shit,” Matthew or BM, as everyone referred to him as, answered and plopped down on the vacant spot between them.

BM was one of the guys who challenged Mingi in both height and mass. They were similar in body proportion, but BM carried more muscle and had a few years on him, not to mention he was a force to be reckoned with in the defense zone. Definitely a key player of the Blue Wolves. 

“Puts up with my dumb shit?”

“Yeah, all that teasin’ and makin’ fun of her.”

Scratching the back of his head, Mingi didn’t quite get what they meant. He wasn’t really making fun of you per se. They were just harmless jokes and, well, you did actually hog the rink for the past few weeks and you were so easy to rile up. 

Throwing a black hoodie over his head, BM filled the silence that came with Mingi’s thinking. “I get she’s cute, but we’re past that boys-pick-on-girls-they-like typa bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s cute,” Mingi retaliated.

“Nah, every girl is a lil cute and that one is definitely cute.”

“What’s this? Tea time and you don’t invite the Jeon Jungkook?” The winger threw an arm around Mingi’s shoulder, and a whiff of fabric softener and pear reached his sinuses.  

“Didn’t need to, we knew you’d invite yourself anyway,” Mingi muttered and jabbed a thumb into the older’s side that immediately freed him from the unpleasant hold.

Jungkook scrambled to the opposite side, legs spread wide and forearms falling back on the wooden railing of the bench. 

“Don’t be mean just because you can’t talk to girls like the rest of us.”

Growing more agitated the longer the conversation went on, Mingi threw his stinky jersey at Jungkook and snapped, “The fuck you mean I can’t talk to girls?”

“Last time I checked, you don’t need to fuck up a girl’s phone to get her number, but I do have to say it’s an interesting technique. Tell me how it goes for ya, why don’t you?” Jungkook scrunched the shirt into a ball and threw it back at its owner, who caught it with ease. 

“Oh, fuck you. It was an accident.”

Another arm wrapped around Mingi’s neck and his face was pushed up against a clothed torso. The unpleasant and slightly painful feel of someone’s knuckled rubbing against the top of his head pulled out a string of winces.

“First you can’t talk to girls and now you’re disrespecting your elders? C’mon, Mango, don’t make me hand you your ass,” BM threatened with a grin, showing off his overly white teeth.

“Yah, that hurts!” Mingi somehow managed to escape BM’s iron grip and caressed his hair back into place.

“Serves you right, you punk.”

“I think Jungkook-hyung’s right though. Like, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive? I mean, yeah she’s annoying and shit, but dude, fucking up her phone?” Intak voiced as he zipped up his jacket and slung his bag around one shoulder.

“It was an accident and it’s not like I’m the only one to blame. You guys were in on it too!”

The deep chuckle of Jungkook diverted everyone’s attention to him. “We agreed on you distracting her, not destroying her things, baby chick. She’s better than me, if I was her and a guy did that to me, I’d be fuming.”

“Yeah, but what about that time she spilled apple juice on my shirt. On my favorite shirt!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t taken the last drink, her favorite drink in fact, what was it again?”

“Strawberry milk,” Mingi answered without missing a beat and had everyone taken back at the quick reply.

“...Anyway, as I was saying. If you hadn’t taken the last of her favorite drink in the cafeteria, she wouldn’t have poured the apple juice all over you.”

“So that excuses it!?”

BM stood up with Intak and Jungkook in tow, all dressed and ready to leave except for Mingi who still sat in his boxers and just a pair of socks on his feet.

“Considering you’ve been a douche toward her… Yes, yes it does,” BM answered and tucked the hood over his neon green hair.

“When was I a douche toward her?”

“Jeez, I don’t know how ‘bout the time she nearly fell on her ass and you made that whole prince charming comment. What was that about anyway?”

Jungkook butted in and leaned against BM. “Yeah, what was that about? You jealous of the prince snatching your girl, Song?”

“She’s not my girl and I’m not jealous of a guy doing some loops on ice and calling it a sport…”

The rowdy boys quietened down at the sudden jab. Books and movies presented hockey players to have a burning hatred for figure skaters, and while that could be true, it wasn’t necessarily amongst the Blue Wolves. They didn’t really care all that much about the sport or the athletes, but they knew the amount of hard work and effort that went into figure skating, making it a hobby far more respected than soccer. They also knew that Mingi wasn’t really thinking that and only let his fiery thoughts get the best of him. Nonetheless, it wasn’t cool and while they were already on the path of calling him out, why not follow through.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

Jaw going slack, Mingi threw his hands out towards Intak. “So I get shit for calling you guys nicknames, but he gets to outright call me a dick?!”

“Did he lie tho?”

One after another, they left the changing room with Jungkook getting the last word.

“Better hurry, baby chick, or you’ll be late for class! Remember, girls may like dicks, but not when you’re acting like one.”

Balancing between schoolwork and perfecting the triple axel, you hadn’t even noticed how quickly Wednesday and Thursday flew by. Keeho burst through your door with grocery bags in his hands and a giggly Dasom hot on his heels, a little Hello Kitty tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Bow down bitches, bow-bow down bitches!”

Quite literally you fell off the sofa, legs tangled in your soft blanket and some drool on the side of your face. 

“What the–”

“Wake up sleepyhead, it’s time to partyyyy,” Keeho hollered and raised the plastic bags in the air. The various bottles of alcohol, chips and popcorn reminded you what day it was.

While Dasom and Keeho prepared things in the kitchen, you were ushered to the bathroom to ‘wash the drowsiness away’ as Keeho worded it. They lasted five minutes without creating chaos and by the time you returned Keeho was sliding across your kitchen with his pink fuzzy socks on, dancing to Lady Gaga’s Monster while Dasom whipped together a peanut butter cookie batter.

You were still not entirely awake and couldn’t decide if everything was just a crazy dream or not. Without giving it another thought you threw a bag of dried kernels into your microwave and helped Dasom with the baking.

“Oh, can you like make this pinky have a red heart and the other a green one?” 

Dasom nodded at Keeho’s question and gently blew on his white nails. You watched them from your seat on the couch, patiently waiting for your turn. Keeho lay on his stomach, legs dangling in the air, and Dasom sat in a pretzel position with various nail polishes and pearls scattered in small bowls on the floor.

“We are having so much fun you guys.”

“Stay still please.”

“Sorry, Dae-Dae.”

A game of rock-paper-scissors decided who painted whose nails. You groaned as Keeho won and chose Dasom to fix his, leaving your fingers in his hands. It was no surprise that Keeho’s turned out to be the prettiest and yours the ugliest. Out of the three of you, he was the shittiest artist with Dasom as a close second but at least her hands were steady.

“Okay, as the winner I say we watch Coraline.”

“Slow down, you won for the nails not the movie.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh! Dasom tell him.”

After another game of rock-paper-scissors and another victory for Keeho, you had no choice but to put the movie on despite your protests about Halloween being a month away.

“It’s probably a shit movie anyway,” you said and leaned into Keeho’s side, repositioning your head so it was comfortable against his shoulder. Dasom found herself in a similar position on the other side. You each cradled a bowl of popcorn and chips.

“...You haven’t seen Coraline?”

“Uhm, was I supposed to?”

“Were you supposed to?! I should smack you right into the Other World with your Other Mother!” 

Your brows rose at his comment. A bit confused as to what this Other World was and why he referred to your mom as the Other Mother.

“Smack me and I’ll have the cops on you faster than you can say–”

“Big boobs?”

A pinch of his bicep between your thumb and forefinger quickly shut him up and Dasom took it as her cue to dim the lights and start the film. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, sure it was a bit sad, dramatic and hectic even, but not enough to work your tear ducts.

“Honestly speaking, and I mean honestly speaking, the Other Mother is kinda hot.”

“I wish you knew when to shut up.” You pushed Keeho and stuffed his mouth with popcorn. Dasom giggled at how quick the atmosphere changed, but then shushed you as the movie took a dark turn.

“Ya, ya. Whatever.” Keeho stood up and cracked his back before turning the lights back on, completely ignoring Dasom’s whiny protests. “You know what this calls for? Some driiiiinks!” 

In seconds the night turned from a chill girls’ night to a full blown party.

A widely popular song blasted from Keeho’s portable speaker and he couldn’t help but swing along to the sound. His ears were a burning red after two bottles of soju, but the rest of his face was white as snow. Dasom, on the other hand, looked pretty flushed all over. Her cheeks were as red as her hair and she could barely stand up without falling on her ass. She was alright though, her never ending giggles told you that. She was a cute drunk, unlike Keeho who was crazy and had you constantly reminding him why he couldn’t twerk on your coffee table.

“Y’know…” Keeho flung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. The sweet smell of strawberry soju on his tongue was pleasant to your nose. “Hyunjin asked about you today.”

The statement immediately sobered you up and the dizziness wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. They both saw a spark of hope light up in your eyes and Dasom ‘oohed’ as you whipped your head towards Keeho. You licked your lips and dried your clammy hands on your trousers. 

The only thing they had in common was being seniors and last time you checked Keeho wasn’t acquainted with any of Hyunjin’s friends either. They had no reason to converse — one being an arts major and figure skater while the other was studying English literature and was a cheerleader — besides you.

“Really?”

He hummed and sluggishly continued talking, you could barely make out what he was saying. “He ash-ked if you were-rer alrigh-t.”

Another teasing hoot came from Dasom which Keeho chimed in on with a squeeze to your shoulder. Your face burned and you knew damn well it wasn’t because of the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

“An–and what did you say?” You fanned your face. It was really getting hot in there and Keeho’s clinginess wasn’t helping you.

As the song faded into the next one Keeho gasped at the familiar lyrics coming from the speakers and immediately untangled himself from you to turn the volume up.

“I love this song!” 

He grabbed Dasom by her hands and twirled her around the room, her childish giggles mixing in with the funky beat and Keeho’s loud singing. In any other circumstance you’d be angry at how absentminded he was, but the boy gave you some good information and was thus easily forgiven. The thought of Hyunjin asking about you was surreal. You were certain your prissy attitude would change his perception of you — whatever that was you didn’t know — but apparently not. More heat crawled up your spine, making your cheeks burn uncomfortably. You pressed your cold hands to your face in an attempt to cool down. 

Your mouth broke out into a huge grin when it finally dawned on you. 

Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. 

The rest of the night was a blur and some moments were faintly secured in your memory. You remember dancing, singing, laughing and drinking. A lot of drinking. A never-ending buzz sounded through the whole apartment. With a moan of agony you pulled the covers over your head and snuggled violently against the cushions of the sofa. Suddenly it went quiet and you exhaled in relief. Thinking you’d be able to squeeze in another hour of sleep, you turned around only to groan again as the noise came back.

“Why do you have the alarm on? It’s Saturday,” Keeho said, a tint of annoyance in his grogginess.

“I have to… meet up for ah… projec–th. Can’t be late.”

Whoever invented alcohol should be charged with decapitation for not inventing a cure for hangovers.

“What the hell did you put in our drinks, Kyo?” You arose from your position on the couch, lightly clutching your throbbing head. All your limbs ached and you wished the world would go back to sleep again. 

“Uh– don’t ask me. I don’t even know my name right now.”

The rest of the morning was spent puking and shuffling with blankets wrapped around you like tortillas. None of you were up for small talk, the hangover clung to you like never before and you collectively blamed Keeho for buying so much soju. 

“Oh, shut it. You’re at least well enough to talk. Poor Dae-Dae can’t even open her eyes.”

Said girl grunted out a noise of agreement and gratitude as Keeho gently placed a wet rag on the upper part of her face. True to his words, Dasom was faring the worst. She always struggled with alcohol, both in downing it and the aftermath.

“You shouldn’t drink if you’re going to be this cranky,” you said matter-of-factly and massaged Dasom’s calves.

He gave you a nasty look and rolled his eyes. “Whatever! I’m taking a shower, losers.”

“What a douche.” 

Dasom grunted again, her way of telling you to be nice. 

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep or you’ll drool all over your project.”

As the minute hand showed five minutes to eleven you gathered all the empty soju bottles in a bag and gave them to Keeho, a polite way of kicking him out, and then pushed Dasom to take a shower before she took her leave. With those two out of your hair, you turned to the living room and took in the sight of chaos. There were crumbs, glitter and drops of alcohol on the floor and coffee table, nail polish everywhere and nowhere, and dishes in places you never thought you’d see. You pulled back the invisible sleeves of your nightgown and began cleaning up the mess. On a positive note you didn’t have to throw the trash out and could immediately start with the dishes. Then you vacuumed the living room after wiping down every crevice you could reach and continued into the bathroom. To your luck Keeho didn’t puke his intestines out, only Dasom who still had a sense of direction in her hazy state so the toilet seat wasn’t drenched in her stomach acid and lunch. While you were at it you changed the sheets in your bedroom and loaded the washing machine with clothes from your and Dasom’s bedrooms.

At last you too jumped in the shower and stayed there until the warm water ran out. With a tub of ice cream and a towel wrapped around your head, you relaxed in bed. A fresh set of pajamas clung to your body as you wiggled under the clean covers. God, how you missed your bed and privacy. 

By the time you were done with the ice cream and two movies of a random trilogy, the sky turned a pretty dark color which reminded you of last night’s shenanigans. You glanced down at your fingers and laughed at the badly painted nails. The second Keeho laid eyes on the dark blue nail polish — or galaxy blue according to him — he announced his masterplan; a galaxy theme. The first coat was alright, but then as he got his hands on the silver glitter everything went downhill. Your nails were uneven, some having more blue and others drowning in glitter. There was nothing you could do about it or he’d sulk for a week straight, claiming you weren’t a real friend and favored Dasom over him which wasn’t not true but he didn’t need to know that.

As you started the third movie your phone went off with a ding. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when you picked up the phone and saw who was disturbing your ‘me-time’.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] hey it’s hyunjin

The spoon full of melted ice cream slipped from your hands right onto your lavender sheets. A low ‘fuck’ echoed in the room at the same time as you received one more message.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] keeho gave me your number

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss his cheeks or strangle him. Partially grateful, partially annoyed. Grateful Keeho had half a mind to slip Hyunjin your number and was annoyed that he completely forgot to tell you about this little piece of information during his drunken dancing.

With shaky hands you tapped in a reply and immediately facepalmed as you hit the send button.

You [07:39 PM] Hi Hyunjin :3

Before you could rip your hair out at the choice of emoticon, the front door opened and a cheery Dasom stumbled into your bedroom with rosy cheeks and hair slightly disheveled, looking like a combination of flustered and cold that you didn’t put a lot of thought into. 

Cutting right to the case, you said, “Hyunjin texted me.”

She let out a squeal of pure joy and leapt onto your bed, her heavy book bag forgotten on the tidy floor as she pried noisily on your phone.

Hyunjin [07:40 PM] you up for another practice tgt?

“Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes!” She shook your arm violently, phone barely staying in your hands.

You [07:40 PM]  That’d be nice

The device was flung across your bed, landing face down as you both sat in silence. It lasted for five seconds until another message came through. You cast a glance at Dasom who was already looking at you, and then in slow motion you both dove for the phone. She landed on top of you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs, but you came out the winner with your hands wrapped around the phone.

“I’m scared,” you confessed and pulled the phone up to your chest. A nervous smile tugged at your lips. 

“Just look!” 

Hyunjin [07:42 PM] you free this friday, 9 am?

You angled the screen so Dasom could look too. 

“What do I say?”

“What do you say?” She smiled. “Yes, of course!”

“I mean obviously, but how do I say it? I don’t want to come off too excited.”

She gestured grabby-hands and you handed her the phone. Her thumbs flew across the digital keyboard and she bit down on her bottom lip, suppressing her giggles. You’d be giggling with her if it wasn’t your fate in her hands. She returned the phone and dashed to her room. 

You [07:42 PM] Lucky you, I can just squeeze you into my packed schedule

Hyunjin [07:43 PM] see you then busy girl

You scanned the message twice to make sure you read it correctly. 

“Dasom!”

Her childish giggle could be heard all the way from her room and if it weren’t for your heart almost bursting out of your chest you’d show her a thing or two about loyalty. Instead you hid under the covers. A big, warm tingling sensation filled your stomach and spread to your beating organ. You couldn’t stop thinking about the messages, picturing Hyunjin saying those things in real life. It had you kicking your feet like those lovesick girls in movies and you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night.

If fifteen years of school taught you anything it was to never have high expectations. Big dreams and hopes were destined to be crushed and you could confidently vouch for that, yet there you were; with your head in the clouds and heart on your sleeves thinking this week would be the best week of your life.

As if sensing happiness floating in the lecture hall, your professor burst your bubble with one decision. The essay he assigned for Saturday was moved to Friday with the deadline at twelve PM. Your original plan of doing absolutely nothing all week and writing it in one sitting on Friday was already altered because of Hyunjin and now you had to change it again. Instead of spending your Wednesday morning huddled in bed with a warm beverage watching the latest episode of your new kdrama, you were in the library under the watchful eyes of Ms. Bang.

The library was full of students. You stood idly by the door and scanned the room for a vacant seat or table to squeeze into. Finals were just around the corner and everyone had the great idea of revising material before and after school hours. At last you found an empty table big enough for two and quickly skirted around the hoard of people, praying to reach it before anyone else.

A confetti popper went off in your head as you sat down. All you had to do now was get started which was easier said than done. The caret on the blank document ticked like a bomb, reminding you of the time you wasted thinking about nothing yet seeming so deep in thought. With narrowed eyes and lips in an angry pout, no one dared to occupy the chair in front of you.

That no one turned into someone.

You didn’t feel them sit down in the vacant seat. You didn’t see them, too occupied having a stare-off with your laptop. One moment there was no one there and the next moment a six foot-something tall hockey player plopped down from the sky, probably being outcast from heaven.

“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. You huffed as he made the moss green knitted sweater look good, even though it was ugly.

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

Although he tried acting offended, the sly smirk he didn’t bother hiding told you otherwise. You averted your gaze back to your computer. His face was starting to annoy you.

“What do you mean?” He asked ever so innocently.

“This table, my table. Why are you here?”

“The library is a public space and I’m here to study.”

You chuckled as if it were funny. “Since when do you study, Song?”

“Careful, princess or I’ll think you’re interested in me. Asking all these questions, what’s next you’ll ask for my phone number?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Mingi leaned on the table and rested his sharp chin against the palm of his hand. He suggestively ran his fingers through his creme colored highlights and grinned wolfishly. 

“Your place or mine?”

Your knee hit the underside of the table jarring Mingi’s water bottle. Pain flared and you bit back a wince, hastily rubbing against the jeans-clad skin. You didn’t miss the aggravated look Ms. Bang gave you. 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The glare you shot him worked like a domino effect as he raised one brow menacingly asking, “What did I do?”

“If you’re gonna sit here then be quiet. I’m only tolerating you for so long, Song.”

“Didn’t peg you for a rapper, princess.”

“Don’t,” you drove your feet into his shin, “call me that.” 

The table jerked again — twice as much — and you received yet another disapproving stare from the librarian, but you didn’t care. The revenge was satisfying and you couldn’t help but marvel at his temporary pain. Your first thought as he sat down was that you’d be at each other’s throats, but to your surprise there wasn’t any bloodshed. Silence took over the table as you both worked diligently, and it was only possible because you were still ignoring each other’s presence. Sometimes you’d peek at him and be taken back at how calm and gentle he looked. The smirk you despised was nowhere to be seen, his lips parted in concentration and his eyes were void of any malice. They were warm like your morning coffee and as soft as the sand on Daecheon Beach.

“Is my handsome face distracting you?”

Then the thin line between tolerating and accepting was blurred, leaving you to work with nothing.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah, you are. Especially at night…when I’m alone with no one to fix my–”

“I swear to God if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you hissed through your teeth and slammed your hand on the table.

The ruckus was drowned out by the sound of multiple fingers tapping against keyboards and the haste of flipping pages, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Bang. She hushed you with a long ‘shhh’ and you gulped and sank in your seat with Mingi’s broad figure hiding you from her. The woman probably hated you by now. If it wasn’t Keeho who got you into trouble then it was some other idiot.

You couldn’t stand Mingi and he lived to annoy you, but there was an unspoken understanding to put your differences aside for the time being. With another try, you returned to the empty screen and he went back to his. The silent and unofficial pact lasted for a hot minute.

“You know, I don’t usually have a thing for feisty girls but–”

You shut your eyes and sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience which wasn’t anything new really, but he was extra persistent today.

“–you were kinda hot like that. All angry and snappy, and that thing you did with your lips. Right, just like that!”

You sneered in disgust. This was the chance for Dasom and Keeho to prove their friendship because you were about to murder him and someone had to pay for your bail.

“Go back to your mediocre porn and keep your weird fantasies away from me.”

“You know me so well, angel. Wanna re-enact it? The one I usually watch has your hair color.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

Everyone stopped at the sudden outburst. It felt like a spotlight was cast over your table, like you were the lead in a play. The click-clack of Ms.Bang’s kitten heels moved fast along the tiled floor and you knew you were fucked. The gray haired woman reached your table and peered down at you with so much venom that it could make a flower wilt. 

“It’s the third time you’ve disturbed the peace in my library. I’ll kindly ask you to pack your things and leave or I’ll have to call security. I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, young lady.”

You felt embarrassed, face hot as you stood up and bowed sharply, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bang.”

“And you, Mister. You’d think a grown man would have more respect for himself and those around him. I want both of you out, right this instance.”

Much like you, Mingi got up — albeit a bit slower — and bobbed his head up and down, muttering a quiet apology. Whispered murmurs spread through the library as the students resumed their studies. You hastily took your things and darted outside, not sparing anyone any glances. Ms. Bang didn’t return to her post until she witnessed you both walk out the door.

Fuck Mingi. Fuck Ms. Bang. Fuck your professor. Fuck the essay–

“Would you wait up?”

The man you wanted to see least of all stopped in front of you. Curse him and his long legs.

You peered up at him. The audacity of this guy. “No, Mingi. I don’t want to slow down because I don’t want to look at you! Let alone wait up.”

“Okay, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. Things were getting out of hand and he wasn’t used to seeing you this mad.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. You got me kicked out of the library, in front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!”

“Hey, I was kicked out too!”

“You’re a guy! No one cares about you, but me? My reputation could be ruined, they’ll see me as a delinquent!”

“Oh, get over yourself. You were kicked out of the library, not arrested for snorting coke.”

Your tongue poked the side of your cheek. “You’re a real fucking asshole.” 

You cursed your voice for wobbling and stepped around him, continuing your walk home. Mingi stood rooted to the ground and watched as you stormed off. He clicked his tongue and went the other way. 

You were blowing things out of proportion. Who cared what people thought of you anyway? Stopping by a red light and staring off into nothing, he tried wrapping his head around your logic. You were a figure skater — a performer — you needed to grow thicker skin. People would always judge you, both on and off the rink. How could you be so easily affected by a measly little hag? Mingi blew out an air of frustration. You really were something else. 

The red light was running longer than usual and he was growing more impatient with each passing second. Mingi patted the front of his hair and thought back to the conversation with his friends.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

The seven-word-long sentence struck a chord in him. Too blinded by his own bruised ego, Mingi didn’t want to believe his faults that day in the locker room, but as a sour, unripe apple faded into a deep red, Mingi too matured and realized he was in fact acting like a dick. It was clear his words hurt you, it was evident from the slight timber in your voice. A tone he was all too familiar with from his childhood days. A snivel he let out trying to suppress his childish tears from countless scraped knees and bee stings. A voice so suffocating and uncomfortable, as if a thick ball was shoved down his windpipe. He hated it — the feeling of not being able to breathe, being in control of his own body — even as he transitioned into his adult years. 

A heavy weight dropped in his stomach at the thought of you feeling that way because of him.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Mingi hastily turned around and awkwardly jogged back to where he last saw you. Slowing down by the entrance gates of the local library, he caught a glimpse of your angry-walking figure among the sea of students. Eyes set on you, his feet moved on their own and skillfully avoided the people. Right as he parted his lips to call for you, something hard rocked right into his chest or the other way around, Mingi wasn’t sure. Tearing his sight from you and at the person that was the equivalent of a brick wall, Mingi opened his mouth to apologize only to stop mid word.

“You good there, Song?”

What was it with people addressing him with his last name. His parents did give him a real name for a reason. 

Hate was a strongly charged word and from a young age, Mingi never felt hatred towards anyone. The closest thing he’d come to hate was dislike. He disliked bugs and vegetables, and he really disliked cardio. 

That was until he met Bang Chan, the winger of Red Tigers — a hockey team under TOP University — and also the most annoying man in the world. Mingi hated Chan with a burning passion. Was it because of something childish? Probably. Would Mingi ever admit it? Probably not.

“What’s it to you, Chris?”

If it weren’t for Mingi’s towering height making him look years older than Chan, passersby would have shot him a dirty look for the lack of honorifics used, but Mingi didn’t care. Honorifics were made to show a clear difference in hierarchy and nowadays it was to show respect to either elders or superiors. Mingi held no respect for the shrimp of a man and Chris wasn’t a superior in his eyes.

Chan chuckled and ran his hand through his blonde locks. “Considering I don’t really give a fuck about you, I’d say nothing.”

The grit of Mingi’s teeth clashing against each other and sharpening his jaw, had a cocky smile spreading across Chan’s face. 

“Oh, don’t say you thought I was worried about you.” 

The day Mingi first met Chan was right before a game between the Blue Wolves and Red Tigers. The younger had been told about the talented winger, warned of his skills and malicious ways of getting under people’s skin. Being still relatively new to the team, Mingi heeded the words of his seniors and promised to stay cool headed and free from penalties. The promise lasted for a good ten minutes into the first period until Mingi sprung into action, violating a handful of rules and knocking Chan off his skates. Each and every game after that where the two hockey players simultaneously skated the rink was a brawl waiting to happen.

“The only time I think of you is either with a broken nose or a losing score.”

“So you do think of me. Well I’d say I’m flattered, but you're not really my type, Song. I’m more into lanky boys with freckles and not whatever it is you are.”

Violence was never the answer, was what a lot of educational books said, yet they could never explain the therapeutic release of pent up anger that released as Mingi’s fist would connect with the winger’s face.

Eyes steering away from Chan’s cheesed ones, Mingi pinpointed you moving further and further into the crowd, slowly weaving and blending in with the other people. While he wasn’t all that keen on talking with you — still having a trouble making out what he was going to say — he’d rather stand empty minded before you and not entertain the clown in front of him. Besides, if acted out of line his seniors would never let him live it down, maybe even go the great length of convincing their coach to keep him benched for the rest of the season.

“I don’t have time for you, Chris. We’ll settle everything on the ice, until then stay the fuck away from me.”

Shoulders colliding and their mouths curling into a C — one up and the other down — Mingi went after you just like he initially planned before the universe threw an obstacle in his way.

The multiple calls of your name echoed like a wordless siren song, manipulating you to slow down only to break off the cures and walk faster as you realized who the voice belonged to.

“God, you walk fast,” Mingi huffed as he caught up to you.

For an active hockey player you’d think his stamina would be out of this world. Apparently not seeing how his chest rose rapidly, stretching his gorgeous musc– 

“What do you want?” 

“How you feeling about food? You hungry? It’s my treat.”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”

Mingi skipped in front of you and rotated midstep so he walked backwards facing you, “I’m serious. You up for some fried chicken?

“I already told you to fuck off, don’t make me scream stalker too.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Look I wanna make it up to you. At least take this.”

He searched for something in his jean pocket and then held out two crumpled bills. The glare he received was sharp enough to cut through concrete and Mingi gulped as the corners of your lips gravitated down. Your hand itched to slap the mocking papers out of his grasp and scream something along the lines of him being an asshole. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough, now he was offering you money like you were a beggar.

“I’m not up for any of your jokes, Song. Just leave. Me. Alone.”

“No, I’m being for real.”

You hit the brakes and stared at him hoping to find the smallest of hints that he was fucking with you. “What game are you playing at, huh? You’ve already publicly humiliated me once, you wanna go for round two, is that it?”

He scoffed at your hostility and stuffed the dollars back in his pocket. “I’m not always out to annoy you, princess.”

The small movement of your brows drawing together brought out a forced cough. He had yet to make it up for you and he was already fucking it up.

“Believe it or not, but I just want to make things right.”

“Why?”

Mingi opened his mouth and closed it again. Words swirled in his head but no answer came to his mind. The question was righteous, he’d give you that. Coming up with an answer proved to be difficult when he too didn’t know what had gotten into him or why the sudden surge of goodness turned him into Lady Justice. A measly ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get him anywhere so with eyes that reflected the stars and lips forming into a pout he mustered the softest, “I actually… feel bad for the library… and your phone.”

Your eyes filtered over his face. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him and you had to remind yourself that this was the same guy who knocked you off your skates, coughed in your lunch and flicked your forehead every chance possible. 

“I don’t buy it.”

Turning on your heel, you decided to go the long way home, hoping he’d take the final hint and leave you alone. Honestly, you should’ve known better.

“You would if I was a certain figure skater.” 

Your head whipped back around so fast that you nearly got whiplash and he’d have to take you to the hospital. 

“That’s not true!” Your face burned at the mention of Hyunjin or perhaps at Mingi’s observation. Did he always keep tabs on you or the people you associated yourself with?

He stepped closer, your breaths mixing in the cold wind.

“Prove it.” 

The bear trap planted in the middle of the trail couldn’t have been more evident yet you still stepped on it with both feet. Sitting in a dimly lit coffee shop waiting for the tall bastard to come back with your orders was not on your yearly bingo card. There were a handful of reasons you agreed to his stupid idea. Your keys were in your other jacket, which was collecting dust in your wardrobe. Dasom was working on her project at Hongjoong’s so the apartment was empty. The sky was turning darker with each passing second and you were not about to sit idly on the stairs of your apartment complex, especially not at night.

A strawberry frappuccino slid in front of you and popped your thoughts like a dart would a balloon. Mingi hung his jacket around a chair opposite you and sat down, much like in the library. He avoided your gaze and took a long sip of his green tea mocha. You didn’t touch your drink despite it being your favorite — you pushed the thought of it being a coincidence or not to the back of your mind — and continued staring at him. He eventually faced you and nearly choked on the beverage. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“I’m admiring your act.”

“What act?”

“This goody-two shoe thingy you’re trying to pull off.”

He chuckled and looked down at his drink, fingers tracing circles on the paper logo. 

“You’ve really got your head way in on that. There is no act. I said it earlier, I just felt bad for getting you thrown out.” The cup was left alone and his eyes found yours. 

“And that’s what I don’t get. You’ve been a douche for a whole year, what makes today so different from last month? Why do you care now?”

“Are you going to drink that?”

You weren’t drinking anything until he fessed up and it was clear from the scrunch of your brows and how your lips pursed, conveying that perfect amount of sassiness.

Mingi never stopped overthinking what the hell he was doing. On the walk there, during his stunt of convincing you and in the short time he stood in line waiting to order. He racked his mind for answers and came up with nothing. The blob of anxiety dug into his abdomen the more he replayed the library scene. It was different from all his previous harmless teasing and bickering. It was fun, but not in a sadistic way. Seeing you get so angry and flustered over a simple nickname tickled his insides, yet he never intended to get you into trouble let alone be the reason you got scolded and on top of that kicked out of a public place under a hundred watchful eyes. But being Mingi, the guy you apparently hated the most, he couldn’t say all that. You’d really think he was playing you, which you had every right to believe.

With another sip of his tea, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s called having a change of heart.”

You scoffed and allowed yourself to taste the stupid drink. It wasn’t like you could just go home anyway and it was easier to just give in and not make his money go to waste, no matter how annoying he was.

“Happy?”

A sarcastic hum weaved through the air of the chattering customers. The conversation ended at that point and you couldn’t stop thinking about your precious time being spent doing absolutely nothing. An all nighter was bound to happen or you’d say bye-bye to morning practice with Hyunjin.

The soft and irritating buzz of Mingi’s phone burned holes in his pocket. When you thought about it, the person hadn’t stopped calling him since you stepped foot in the shop and if you cared enough you’d tell him to take the call. Glancing down at the caller ID, Mingi pursed his lips into a line.

It didn’t take a genius to know why Intak was pestering him. The hockey team was supposed to have a movie night at Matthew’s. Intak and Mingi were assigned snack duty, but considering Mingi was at a coffee shop with you, the responsibility was pushed entirely on Intak, although he had yet to tell the younger boy. Mingi’s thumb slid over the off button and he pressed it twice ignoring the call. He was out of excuses to use and even if he had something up his sleeve, Intak would smell the bullshit from a mile away. They’d eventually justify his no-show as him having something better to do, assuming it was a quick fuck or something else involving a girl.

You, on the other hand, could jump from glee at the message on your lockscreen. Dasom was on her way home and you could finally cut this… appointment short. You slurped the last of your frappuccino and grabbed your bag and with a forced ‘thanks’ you were out of the coffee shop. How silly of you to think he’d let you off so easily. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he walked beside you.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I'm walking you home.”

Underneath all that douchebag exterior Mingi had some qualities of a gentleman after all and for once you didn’t fight him on it. This whole exchange was weird and you were certain that whoever happened to see you two together would think it was a PR stunt. God forbid Dasom or Keeho got a whiff of you being civil towards him. Dasom’s future poems would be dedicated to your and Mingi’s nonexistent relationship while an exorcism would be arranged by Keeho, claiming Mingi had bewitched you.

“You live quite far from campus.” 

“I didn’t ask you to walk me home.”

“I never implied you did, I simply stated a fact.”

Another wave of silence settled over you. Mingi wasn’t that bad when he was quiet. Maybe you’d sew his mouth shut like Other Mother did to Other Wybee. At least that way you wouldn’t be publicly ridiculed anymore. Not that you were ever planning for this to happen again. 

By the time you arrived outside your apartment a layer of pitch black darkness wrapped around the earth and you had to physically bite your tongue from asking if he’d be alright walking home alone. Keeho did mention one of his friends was jumped by a group of older men and Mingi, despite his size and shape , wasn’t invisible to weirdos this late.

“Uhm, what’s going on here?”

Both you and Mingi turned to your left where a very confused Keeho and an ecstatic Dasom stood. You really wished you’d fought Mingi on leaving you alone sooner because the fear of walking alone in the dark was better than convincing these two coconuts there was no budding romance between you. Sensing your discomfort, Mingi cleared his throat. A dust of red sprinkled over his cheeks matching his cold ears and nose.

“See you around.”

Before you could mutter a lame ‘bye’ he was gone, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of dumb and dumber.

“What the hell was that?!” Keeho screeched as you bolted for the bathroom. “What happened to him being a dick?!”

“He’s still a dick,” you called out and splashed cold water on your face. 

“A dick you want to su–”

“Keeho-ya!”

“I’m just saying! What am I supposed to believe when I see you being all cozy with your sworn nemesis?”

You swung the bathroom door open and pointed at Keeho who, mind you, had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot impatiently tapping against the hardwood floor.

“Okay, let’s get one thing clear. I was not being cozy with him.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “You’re almost as gullible as Dasom.”

Said girl whined in protest and threw a sock at the back of his head. 

“No. No, no, no. I’m being honest. He just walked me home–”

“Mingi walked you home?” Dasom peeped from her space on the couch. 

“Yes, the bastard walked me home after getting us thrown out of the library–”

“The library closed like three hours ago.”

“Yes, Keeho. If you’d let me speak I’d explain everything from start to finish. The library was full so he decided to sit with me then he got us thrown out and wanted to ‘make it up’ by buying me coffee or whatever. So we went to a coffee–”

Dasom sprung up from the cushions and grasped your shoulders, violently shaking you back and forth. “Oh my God! He took you on a date!”

The self-proclaimed dad fell back on the sofa and dramatically covered his parted mouth. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was on the verge of crying.

“I can’t believe this. My little girl is turning into a woman.” He wiped an imaginary tear and followed up the act with sniffles. “We can’t have this, I have to threaten him properly. Invite him for dinner so he knows he can’t just hurt my little girl withou–”

You pushed past Dasom and threw glares at the annoying people you labeled friends.

“Can you stop fucking around for a second? I’m serious when I say nothing happened.”

“Well, yeah. I sure hope it didn’t. I’m still calling dibs on Hyunjin.”

You blinked a couple times, not entirely grasping his words.

“You’re calling what on who?”

“Dibs on Hyunjin.”

“Keeho thinks you’re getting together with Hyunjin.”

“You’re betting on my love life?!”

Keeho waved his hand in the air and tucked his feet under his bum. “Oh, stop screaming would-ya? It’s not much of a love life to begin with. Besides, Dasom is the crazy one in the bet.”

“Who’d you bet on?”

The girl balanced on her tiptoes and sheepishly smiled. If Keeho betted on Hyunjin, then she had to bet on–

“Mingi.”

“You bitch–” 

The instinct to fight kicked in and you lunged at her. It wasn’t as if you were going to hurt her, maybe jank her hair or bite her arm, something light to scare her. Before you could leave a scratch on her, Keeho flew to her rescue and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Woah everybody, let’s calm down a little bit!” 

With one last attempt to get one kick in you flung your legs out to which Keeho twirled you both around. 

“Count your days, Dasom!”

“Okay! You’re on time-out,” Keeho declared and carried you to your room.

As he was about to cross the threshold, you placed both feet against the wall on the sides of the open door and pushed back, propelling Keeho backwards. Poor guy almost lost his balance but regained it before you became one with the floor.

“Stop being a difficult little shit!” 

His right arm sneaked down behind your knees while the other supported your back and carried you bridal-style. He gently dropped you on the bed and you flopped like a sack of potatoes, limbs drawn out like a starfish. You could feel Keeho’s eyes on you, but it did little to break your stare from the ceiling.

“I’m not supposed to get any attention while in time-out.”

Keeho pursed his lips as his tongue poked the side of his cheek. 

“Mmm and you were supposed to hate Mingi but here we are.” 

He placed his hands on his hips. You were tired of glaring, arguing and throwing hands so you opted with a weak nudge of your foot towards the door. 

“Leave.”

Now that was very much out of character. He was certain you’d jump him too or chuck a pillow at him, but no. You continued laying there lifeless. You didn’t even spare him a glance. Keeho plopped down beside you, shoulders touching as he too stared at the creme colored ceiling.

“Did we go too far?”

“Nah, I’m just tired of Mingi. It’s like he’s always there, even if he isn’t. He always finds a way to get on my nerves.”

Keeho hummed, “I get that. I mean, not that you’d know but you and Dasom make me sick sometimes too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. You get sick of being around us too much, not because we are making fun of you.”

“That’s true… but you know who doesn’t make fun of you?”

“...You and doofus number two out there?”

“Wooooooow, really?” 

A smile sneaked on your face.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Do whatcha want, Kyo. I’m just going to sleep the time-out… out?”

Extra sleep was never a bad idea and considering you were planning on pulling an all-nighter, you’d need all the rest you could get before that. You closed your eyes and rested one hand over your stomach while the other one went under your head.

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin doesn’t make fun of you!” Keeho yelped and breathed out in relief. 

It physically strained him to keep his mouth shut and it felt like his head was going to explode if he didn't mention it anytime soon. 

The idea of sleep was pushed to the back of your mind, along with all the other hundred things you postponed.

If there was anyone who kept dibs on people it would be Keeho. That man was up to date on all the gossip around the campus, new as well as old. Whoever was in the spotlight he’d know and then you’d know too. You’d usually tell him to shut it, not really being interested in other people’s business but this wasn’t just anyone’s business; this was about Hyunjin. The Hyunjin. Your crush, Hyunjin.

“Spill.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He jumped on the bed beside you, chin resting on both palms and feet kicking the air behind him. “Apparently our little Hyunjin-ie is interested in someone.”

Butterflies born from sheer anxiety and suspense fluttered in your stomach. Hyunjin liked someone. Giddy happiness welled over you. The same content feeling you’d get after passing a peculiarly hard exam or landing a difficult jump exploded in you. Your lips were forcibly curved in a shy smile and warmth settled in your stomach at the information. 

The boy you admired for quite some time now finally liked someone. The joy lasted for all of five seconds as the words really sank in. The lively butterflies building cocoons in you were annihilated by a big rock, and your childish smile was wiped like rain and other shit was flung from the windshield of your mother’s car. 

“Girl, why does it look like you’ve figured out Victoria’s secret?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m just saying how it is.”

That, he did. Keeho may have been an avid gossiper, but he wasn’t spreading lies. The things he heard and shared with you or Dasom were always true so you knew better than to question him and his sources. There was always that one-in-a million chance of him being wrong and it terrified you. It wasn’t like his sources couldn’t have misinterpreted it this time. What if they were talking about a girl named Hyunjin or Hyejin instead?

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s you,” he stated and picked on his fingernails. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“I’m not!” He threw his hands up. “But if you think about it, why would he agree to help you practice?”

“Because I was obviously struggling.”

“Okay, then explain why he asked for your number?” His head tilted as he raised a brow at your silence. “That’s what I thought. It’s you! Plus Jiung told me his crush was a figure skater. You are a figure skater!”

“That is a reach and you know it. It could be Yuna, she’s great. Pretty, nice and a figure skating prodigy.” 

“Okaaaay, but if she’s so great why aren’t they dating already?”

You flopped back on the bed, “Dude–” 

“No, I’m serious. If she’s so great and he likes her then what stops them from being together?”

“That could be used on me too?! If he likes me, why hasn’t he done anything?” 

“Cut him some slack, poor boy probably shat his pants while texting you.”

You swallowed down an insult and faced Keeho again. “How do you know about that?”

Crickets and whistling kettles.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yah, Choi Dasom!”

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

[sidsinning]

I could write an essay about how much I love my GOAT Toji seriously

Like he represents everything a jujutsu socerer shouldn't be and uses EXACTLY those traits to solo both the socerers and the curses they work so hard to exorcise

The fact that he has NO cursed energy at all, what made him worthless in the Zenin clan's eyes, was exactly what sealed all their fates in losing to him is an INSANE twist to pull

(Yes there's Maki, but she feels more like she's trying to work within the system despite her limits (like the glasses she wears to adapt), unlike Toji who is totally free due to overwhelming raw senses alone)

His introduction opened up a whole new way to see the power system of cursed energy while making complete sense with what has been established, for me at least

(I wasn't super interested in the jjk power system personally until Toji showed how its strengths can be the user's own weaknesses if exploited properly)

He is an iconic infamous stain on both the socerer world inside of JJK and to one of the most important characters which kicked off the whole plot

He EASILY solo'd the world's most powerful socerer at the time- someone who represents everything that is the opposite of himself- with base planning and strategy

Didn't break a sweat the entire time

But despite all this power he has, despite the reputation he has for his strength, despite seemingly killing the world's strongest socerer at the time- the man was a deeply depressed and jobless bum

He is not any happier before or after his assassinations are done

Feels good in the moment then he's back to his life doing nothing but gambling his money away until the next job

This man who has beaten everyone of every age and species now in the series (he said these hands are rated E for everyone) was actually a WIFE GUY

He was living a shitty life in his clan who abused and feared him but found fucking LOVE and turned his ENTIRE life around for ONE PERSON to be a normal man, even having a child with her

And after she dies he spirals into deep depression, to the point he is incapable of being a good father; he knows on some level that his mental state is so bad he couldn't take care of Megumi properly- THAT is how DEEPLY he loved this woman

HE SOLD HIM THO WHICH IS TERRIBLE

BUT AGAIN

Showing how he's shit (making money from it) but also tries in his own way (I'm too mentally fucked up so a proper family should take care of him)

Then just looking into Megumi's eyes during his zombification knocks his consciousness back into himself, showing if there was one thing he truly cared about during his final moments, it was his son

Then sacrificing his life for his son in the end without asking for anything but his name to rest in peace

BUT ALSO HE MURDERS EVERYTHING WITHOUT REMORSE LIKE?

THE JUXTAPOSITION????

Literally kills teenagers and even during his final moments and his comeback he doesn't give a shit

Like he did a crazy anime fight to kill Gojo which was brutal but still a cool magical fight to watch

Then he fucking snipes a teenage girl in the head with a gun

A plain gun

No crazy stunts

No regrets

THE GOAT? 😭

ALSO THE WAY YOU CAN TELL GEGE LOVES HIM LOL

You could easily write his zombie ass out of the Shibuya Incident Arc but the man wanted to draw him again so bad he made room for necromancer granny to kick start the GOAT's return for a hot sec

HIS FIGHTS ARE SO COOL LIKE HE DON'T GOTTA RELY ON ANY SOCERER SHIT JUST HIS HANDS AND AN INVENTORY ON HIS SHOULDER ARE ENOUGH ITS SO RAW THAT HE CAN GO HEAD TO HEAD WITH WIZARDS AS JUST A DUDE AND WIN

[desifleabag]

Hello beautiful people out here!

I am Deepali. I am from Pune, Maharashtra. I am 21 years old (shaadi ki umar)

Desi fleabag? Because I relate the most with that specific character. Horny, messy, vulnerable, and crazy all the time but also considerate, expressive, and kind. I am a desi version of her.

🎀What I like? I like to dance, sing, journal, write poems and stories, and doom scroll all the time

📍Professional side of me

I did my bachelor's in philosophy. I have been working in an organization for quite a long time. I am a content writer. I am a writer/poet. I am an open mic performer. I have performed at esteemed platforms like tapeatale, poemsindia, kommune, and many more. I am a psychology and sociology student too. I am a co-facilitator and youth lead in different schools through my organization. I have worked on poetry anthology books.

The most important part of my life is being a poet or a writer. It's been a decade since I started writing, and professionally, it's been two years. My poetry and stories revolve around different and unique topics like mental health, family dynamics, feminism, societal norms and culture, romance, life intricacies, friendship, etc. I love being a poet and telling people stories about me and the world because I believe poetry is everywhere. I have a blog called Sip and Sofa Stories where I share the most wholesome blogs and fun-to-read stories.

Not much of a reader, but I like reading poetry by Sylvia Plath and more female writers.

💌 Movies and songs? I am a die-hard fan of Bollywood. I listen to 2000s Bollywood and retro songs. No one can challenge me the way I vibe on these songs and dance. My childhood is memorable because of Sunidhi Chauhan, Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar, RD Burman, Asha Bhosle, Sonu Nigam, Shaan, Arijit Singh, and many more artists. I also listen to Kpop, pop, indie type of music on days when I am dissociating at the fullest. Hold my clutcher, I am a Swiftie and Lana Del Rey fan too, bitch.

I love Bollywood movies, and I am yet to discover more Western movies. I have a bunch of comfort movies like Ye Jawani Hai Dewaani, Piku, Om Shaanti Om, etc.

🪕 My aesthetic type? A combination of Geet and Piku and a little bit of Poo vibe sometimes. But I love desi clothes. Kurti, jhumkas, bindi, bangles, oh god I love being a woman.

Interesting facts about me :

🌸I have three tattoos on my body (Crescent moon, "you're on your own kid" title, "grateful"). I love getting tattoos!!

🥃Loneliness who? I go to bars, cafes, and parks alone because why not. I fear no god.

💛I never was in a relationship, just some hardcore crushes who crushed my soul.

❤️‍🩹I have been in therapy for almost three years and on and off on meds. GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) gang assemble!

😶‍🌫️I love and hate spending time on LinkedIn. Girl boss era.

💬I write poetry about my crushes and defame my ex-friends. They know it very well! Lol.

I am a hopeless romantic and a professional delusional person. I will cook the best scenarios in my head and write about them. I romanticize life on another level though there are 156 rupees in my bank account by going to aesthetic cafes.

:¨ ·.· ¨:

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𝛢𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝘰'𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝘰𝑤𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑠,𝑊ℎ𝘰'𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑝𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝘵𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠? ⊹ ‧₊˚

🖇To connect with me

𖹭 kavitavali.deepali to read my poems and stories on instagram

𖹭 sip and sofa stories blog. I write monthly blogs

Thankyou for reading my long ass introduction! Flying kiss tumhai💋

[o-sachi]

Blue Lock Top 5s because I'm bored

Top 5 I like based on narrative/writing

Top 5 I'd date

Kinda wildly different, idk u judge

All under the cut

Top 5 Based on the Story

1 | Michael Kaiser

Where do I even begin...

For starters, he has a really strong presence in the story and his introduction was hella good.

I have a thing for cocky characters who can walk the talk (we ignore the goals he missed because c'mon, HE IS STILL PART OF THE NEW GEN 11 !!! THAT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF)

But me liking him mostly has to do with his backstory. I resonate with him a lot—not that I experienced the same abusive childhood, but the feeling of wanting to be enough/to be loved really hits hard.

I am also a sucker for great characters who have to shed their skin or the ones who experience a fall from grace only to rise again. It's really inspiring and different in a way. I love to see them get humbled yk?

Also, I like that he had to work hard to be where he is today. The reason why I like him and Lorenzo is because they essentially stand out among the other blue lockers who came from better families/environments.

I just love him. He holds a special place in my heart. He needs to be protected at all times.

I know manipulation is wrong but it's kinda funny how this mf studied psychology for the most whack ass reason possible. Jeez.

2 | Isagi Yoichi

I have to say that I rarely end up liking the MC of most animanga that I read or watch. It's because they're usually so... plain. Like the squarely fall into one archetype and it gets boring. But not Isagi.

I LOVE how he's gentle and kind when off the field, but an absolute menace when he's actually playing football. It's interesting to see.

I like that he's somewhat an underdog. I say somewhat because he didn't start off as someone who knows nothing at all about football. Neither was he hindered by anything serious. Just a plain ol' underdog who happens to go against players that are naturally better than him.

Underdog stories in sports anime are my shit after all.

Redditors say that Isagi's puzzle shit analysis is cringy, but I actually like his analytical nature. It's one of the things I like the most about bllk tbh.

All the blue lockers love him and so do I. Simple as that.

3 | Reo Mikage

It took me a while to really really appreciate Reo.

I just find his character endearing because he truly works hard.

He's from a rich family who could give him anything he wants without him having to lift a finger, yet he tries so hard to prove himself and achieve something solely by himself.

It's just really admirable.

He has his moments, but I think Reo's overall a sweet and genuine person. I felt bad for him when Nagi set him aside.

Of course, Reo initially befriended Nagi for the purpose of playing football together and dominating the sport, BUT he put actual trust into their friendship.

4 | Bachira Meguru

MY OG

I think it's exclusive to sports animanga, but I really like the characters who are lowkey crazy. The moment he fucking kicked Igaguri in the face—I knew.

Super fun to watch.

I like how his backstory is a completely different atmosphere compared to what kind of person he is on the surface. Of course, he probably still has some scars from the past, but that's what I think makes him a good character.

Like Reo, I think he's a genuine person. Sure, he's ready to throw hands anytime, but I can see that he really values certain people in bllk, whether as a friend or someone who pushes him to do better.

GIVE US MORE BACHIRA PLS

5 | Shidou Ryusei

Crazy motherfucker. I DIG THAT.

He's a bit weird, perverted, all over the place—but I like it. A refreshing sight.

Like I know the "crazy" character isn't new, especially to sports anime. But unlike those before him, I think he genuinely enjoys football more so than dominating others.

Sure, he loves to win. But there's a difference between engaging in a sport to make others submit to you and to defeat others fair and square.

Kind of mysterious and I like that. He could climb up the ranks depending on what backstory Kaneshiro san cooks up.

Top 5 That I'd Date

1 | Karasu Tabito

There's something about guys from the countryside that HIT DIFFERENT. Personally, I'm not from a city either, so I guess I'm not that into city boys or the really posh kind of guys.

THE ACCENT

I like guys who are more simple and down to earth, but still have personality. He's so cute and playful, but he's still a simple lil guy.

I like guys who enjoys playful banter w you and would tease u a bit 😗

He's tall, has dark hair, a cocky smirk. NEED I SAY MORE?

We're both scared of water so when we go to the beach or the pool we could just chill together instead.

I find it really endearing about his character that he refuses to tell people about the last time he cried. 'Cuz obviously, a lot of men are probably embarrassed about admitting that which should be changed. I JUST WANT TO GIVE HIM A BIG HUG.

We have the same mole under the eye and our birthdays are 5 days apart. And I'm fucking delusional 😚

I just fw his personality a lot.

He could match my freak.

2 | Barou Shoei

I like mature guys. Periodt.

I love me a domestic guy. He likes cleaning, cooking, taking care of his siblings. Like??? WHAT ELSE COULD YOU ASK FOR?

I feel like I would get scolded a lot... joke's on him I'm into that.

I was kidding btw.

Idk, dude. Responsible men just turn me the fuck on 😓

I admire his work ethic and how seriously he takes his passion.

He's tall, beefy, always looks mad... and I dig that a lot.

What the fuck is that new hairstyle though.

3 | Yukimiya Kenyu

This is extra delusional because I would never get this green of a flag yk?

HE SEEMS SO SWEET AND KIND.

He also seems like the type who would be kind and understanding in the relationship, but would still take the lead.

Idk, tbh, I just chose him because he would be a good partner. Would we make a good pair? Not really.

4 | Noel Noa

I have daddy issues.

That's it.

No, but have you seen the recent art of him in a suit? GOOD LORD.

But actually he is my 4th choice. Don't come for me 😓

5 | I lied about the top 5 thing. There aren't enough characters of age to choose from (I wouldn't date Mihya or Sae. They're hot, I get that. Buttttttt I don't think I can actually handle them. I think I'd be too sensitive about how they treat me sob. And Aiku is a headache.)

[rainbow-crane]

Best and worst danganronpa trials/chapters?

Oh gosh, I don't know. There are so many to choose from, and while one trial might be total ass, the rest of the chapter can usually hold it up, or vice versa.

Trialwise, I think the best one is definitely 2-5. There's basically no time lost on petty filler and the Soda horniness, while present, is kept to a minimum. Mechanically, it's a pretty decent one to my memory(Hangman's Gambit excluded but face it, that's always the case). The trial remains engaging all the way through, even if you've already figured out the identity of the traitor, and the performance of each of the involved characters is incredible. I'll never get over Chiaki willingly sacrificing herself in the end, or Nagito's plan to kill all the despair by betraying the class, or the insistence from everyone- Sonia, Soda, Akane, Fuyuhiko- that Chiaki couldn't possibly be it, all unconsciously trying to save her since they couldn't last time. #1 trial for me, always

On the inverse, there are 2 candidates for worst trial, and it depends on what you mean by 'worst.' On the one hand, 2-3 is literally physically impossible. I mean, not only does the provided explanation for Mikan's coverup require a level of speed, focus, and dexterity uncharacteristic of a klutz with a deadly disease, it's also just generally physically impossible given the timeframe. I mean, what, you mean to tell me in the time it took for Hajime to sprint to the immediately neighboring motel, scream for help, and turn to leave, Mikan was able to:

tear a ring of wallpaper away from Hiyoko's corpse

fold it and tuck it into the back room

destroy the camera

break and drop the drumstick

line the doorway with glue and let them shut, with enough time to dry and stick together

sprint back inside the hospital before Fuyuhiko got there

and the infuriating one

WALK the perimeter of the island THE LONG WAY AROUND to meet Hajime and Chiaki outside the motel?

Yeah, I call bullshit. It makes no amount of sense no matter how many times you say it. Also, Mikan is treated like shitty fanservice just generally, so a trial in which she's at the center/is the killer should really center on her reclaiming her agency, especially considering her two victims were a) the girl that wanted to take pics of her whenever she tripped into inappropriate positions, and b) her greatest bully on the island. Instead, the whole trial is just about "woah Mikan was crazy ALL ALONG???? OOoooOooOoOOOoooOO scaaaawy disease thing." Which is just plain fucking lazy. And hell, that execution??? What the fuck is that???? One final parting fanservice gift that NO ONE WANTED? Thanks I hate it.

On the other hand, 1-2 is straight up offensive on multiple angles. The introduction of a blatantly ableist DID stereotype with the confirmation of Toko and Genocide Jack, along with the inherent transmisogyny of Chihiro's story and the way all her agency in the narrative is totally stripped from her is egregious. As a trans person, a person with DID, and/or someone who gives even one shit about either/both types of people, the whole thing just makes you wanna throw up. In that sense, it's worse, but at least there, the murder case itself made logical sense. So ultimately, when push comes to shove, I still say 2-3 is worse. I'll take the one that's only offensive over the one that's offensive AND nonsensical. Doesn't treat its victims or killer with respect at all, offensive execution to any victim of SA, and just a fucking PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TRIAL THE HELL-

In terms of overarching chapter, I'm gonna say 2-4 was the best one imo. I quite like the funhouse motive and the conflict it presents, and I think there's a lot of good packed into the chapter as a whole, both in the progression of the story, character development for all involved parties, and the relationships found in it. I think being forced to slowly drag your way to the Final Dead Room as Hajime is great, and Chiaki saving us later becoming the proof against her is just *chef's kiss*. Fuyukane platonic besties 4 life???? Sign me tf up. The fact they were willing to perspective-shift us to Nagito for part of the investigation was incredible too, I love that shit. Also, there was a statue of Sakura. Real shit.

The worst chapter is 1-3. I do not like 1-3. I do not like their lazy asses not even bothering to let us have FTEs with Kiyondo, I do not like turning Hiro and Hifumi into pathetic little jokes and refusing to do more with them in their own chapter(the flashback of Hifumi thinking SA bad is the bare minimum). I do not like the severe tonal whiplash from the emotional turmoil and dark mystery aspects with the Robo Justice "Stand Tall, Galactic Hero!" overly flashy nonsense. I don't like that this was all they wanted to do with Celeste, who objectively would've had more thematic purpose if they'd let her be an overarching antagonist. Hell, the stageplay understood she had more potential, and that shit severely cuts down and rewrites the content for time!

[rhonnie23]

Bite Me Introduction!

Bite Me M.List

Chapter One~ Run!

❗🔞MDNI🔞❗

Summary: When 3 girls who don't know their family's past, a terrifying lycan King, a 750 year old sweet & handsome vampire king & a 75 year old newly crowned vampire king, who doesn't give a fuck about no one all meet, what's the worst that could happen ?

‼️ SERIES WARNING~ Will have mentioning of rape abuse violence & death. Nothing too detailed though. I wouldn't know how to even explain situations like that. Mature language as in mentioning of private parts & swearing.‼️

Each Chapter will have its own warnings⚠️ will be updated every or every other Saturday or Sunday❤️

Everyone is very tall but for lycans 7'3 is considered kind of short. Werewolves are tall too but nothing compared to the lycans. Yes these some big mother fuckers😅

€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~

Characters~ Lycans/Wolves:

*  Bang Chan aka Chris- Pack Alpha & King for all wolves & lycans, Acts cold but really is a big puppy (7'4)

*  Minho aka Lee Know- Beta & second in command to the King, wouldn't trust you as far as he can throw you.(7'5)

*  Changbin- second beta can & will not hesitate to beat you black & blue or completely to death. Can find everything about you within 24 to 48 hours. From the things that happened before you were thought of to the moment you both met. Has alpha tendencies (7'2.5)

*  Hyunjin - third beta has a sick things for knives & torture. Most likely is a sadist not like he's hiding but that don't stop the woman from wanting his crazy ass, the tallest of Stray Kids (7'7.5)

*  Jisung aka Han- the ace & fourth beta. Good in the field with or without a weapon, very sneak. Usually the person set as a spy (7'3.5)

* Felix aka Prince of death- second alpha who's very good at hand & hand combat & loves guns. Also is Minho's half younger brother (different mom's, their will be a chapter about this & how min & lix met).(7'4)

*  Seungmin aka Doc/tec- fifth & finally beta much like Changbin who has alpha tendencies but doesn't likes guns & prefers to be not in the field with others but is a very skilled fighter (7'7)

*  Jeongin aka I.N- the youngest of the group & alpha, Is in charge of the hand & hand advance combat team & basic gun handling, Amazing sniper (7'5)

* Rhonda- she's a victim of trafficking but wasn't been used for it before she ran away. Has had training from an ex professional fighter. Doesn't know that wolves/Lycans/vampires are real. Also doesn't know she a one herself at first (6'0)

* Ryan aka Buttercup- one of Rhonda's younger fraternal twin sisters. Ryan is a beta werewolf. She is the youngest of the 3 sisters, does bite her tongue for no one & dares you to try her. This bitch bites! hints why her nickname is buttercup, has unique abilities thanks to their grandmother, They are 19 (5'10)

* Mrs Kang...- full blooded werewolf. She was an omega.(5'10)

Characters~ Vampires:

*  Kim Taehyung- the vampire king of South Korean. He's old as dirt 750 years old but looks like he's in his mid or late 20's. Full blooded vampire. Owns a large portion of land in Thailand. Sweet as candy but dangerous as Lucifer himself. (5'10)

* Kim Namjoon- Taehyung second elder brother. Rapper doesn't really care of his family bullshit but loves his little brother a lot some may say he's obsessed. Looks like his in his late 20's but is 751 (5'11)

* Kim Seojin aka Jin WWH- the oldest Kim brother, models, sings, dance, & love his video game. Some say he's more terrifying than his baby brother. It's like look at the world's more beautiful demon. Look like he's in his late 20's early 30's but is 753 (5'10)

*  Nishimura Riki aka Ni-Ki - the newly crown king of Japan. Also a full blooded vampire. Niki is 75 but looks about 18 or 19. So he is young reckless & ruthless. Like most humans in their teens. Youngest king in years of Japanese vampires (6'1)

Characters~ Human

* Riley- the oldest of the twins & second oldest. Much like Rhonda the twins are victims of trafficking. Riley is honestly the nice one of all three of the sisters. Very shy but very protective of her twin, often mistaken for being dumb & naive but is the complete opposite. (5'10)

* Mr. Kang Jay- underground mafia leader, many enemies, feared be more, was the CEO of a very successful cellphone company. (6'1)

€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~€~

Taglist Open

@whoreforchanin @namjoonandchanswife @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa

©rhonnie23ownallcopyrights

[firefly--bright]

ur probably kinda sick of writing for th b99 au but can I request some fluff hcs pleeeeaaaseee I need something to balance out the angst

IM NOT SICK OF IT detective kirstein brainrot

- it's become like a tradition for the two of you to spend your dinner time together. it could be a really simple meal, sometimes some boring takeout but it would do, considering that almost the whole day was spent apart. soft music would be playing in the background while jean washed and cut the veggies, you'd boil some stock and get started on the noodles, you saying "she ramen on my soup till I noodle-" "she ramen on my noodle till I soup." "right, sorry, my bad." "yeah. get it right." and sometimes Connie crashes and then soon enough sasha and marco are also there and you're watching those terrible horror movies with cheap jumpscares. jean is a fucking crybaby about it you cannot convince me otherwise

- he's sitting beside you on the couch and Connies making fun of the ghost, sasha remarks on how bad she must smell which starts a whole debate between her and marco about if the outfit that people had on when they died was the same outfit that they'd have to spend their death days with, and jean is fully immersed in the movie, clutching a pillow and you try not to laugh at how he shifts closer to you. "it's fucking freezing in here." he says. "are u sure you're not just scared and want my protection?" "I'm. a grown man I don't know what you're talking about- FUCK." the last bit of his sentence was interrupted because the main character saw two glowing eyes in the corner or smth. grown man my ass. he holds you extra snuggly while falling asleep that night

- which is crazy considering his profession but it's so personal to me actually

- anyway, going back to the last post - he gets so pouty and clingy when he gets an unserious injury. like imagine he gets a cut on his thigh because he scraped it against a railing while chasing someone and he's exaggerating the story SO MUCH. "yeah and so I did a BACKFLIP-" "oh you can do those?" his chest puffs up, "yeah. duh. i can do a lot of things. and then I chased him down this alleyway and there was this grandma in one of the windows that saw me handcuff him and cheered for me." "I'm the grandma." you said, to which he replies, "yeah I like older women anyway." "WOW."

- he's arguing with eren on the job ALL THE TIME. back to when you two met, eren was looking around your appartment Just In Case and jean was SUPPOSED to be asking you relevant questions like "where were you yesterday morning?" to which you answered "I was in my room, getting ready for the day." "oh? I'm sure you looked great-" "oh." "i mean, like, I'm sure - like, you look great right now too. i mean, you. yeah. you're 👍" "thank you, detective." and eren has to butt in, "sorry, my partner usually just mouths off without thinking- "I do NOT." "thats why we call him hors-" "KILL YOURSELF YOU FUCKING BIRD."

great introduction, jean. he's kind of surprised that you even acknowledged him, IN PUBLIC CAUGHT IN 4K because he was so sure he blew it (he kinda did but it was really amusing and you kinda just wanted to talk to him because seeing him flustered was really funny and cute)

also!! bonus texts ;)

:D

(final hc - he listens to the most cuntiest songs while solving stuff. like he's filing paperwork while listening to 360 by Charli xcx)

[stellar-constellations]

Hi! I just wanted to let you know that I binged your Star Patient series in one go and I love how you write! I was so immersed I actually got so disappointed when I realized I hit the end of the uploaded chapters haha. I'm really loving Reader's character in terms of how she deals with the verrrrry questionable obstacles coming her way, girlie needs a break to just cuddle it out with Andrew or something. Anyway yeah I just wanted to drop by and let you know I'm absolutely eating your writing :D

Thank you so much! It means so much to know people enjoy the personality I chose for reader! I honestly love writing her.

I didn't want a Mary Sue type of reader, or a reader who just seems like a replacement of Ashley (I'm getting real tired of seeing these rip-offs of Ashley, she has her own charm nobody can compete with).

I wanted a reader with her own psychological issues and problems, this series is for Andrew, who is from the psychological game genre! It only made sense having a unique character to go with him! I wanted to match the game's elements and have the reader just like it; battling with her morals and if what she's doing is right, just in a different type of context and setting.

Reader's obstacles and drama in her life is just crazy, but we embrace the crazy. It'll be boring just reading the same thing you've already seen inside of the TCOAAL game, so I wanted to flesh out my own plot and characters. Reader might not be everyone's cup of tea, but she's mine and I love her.

Honestly, I'm still trying to understand Andrew's personality because of how complex it is (I simp for this man so hard, we need more fics of him). Andrew is such a pain in the ass to write sometimes, but I really love him for it, so please bear with me if he seems out of character, because he is! He's my own version of Andrew I wrote for this story, so he's not going to be canon, just like how the timeline and characters aren't canon either.

She really does need to sit back and take a breather with Andrew, but her trust issues refuse to and we'll see why in later chapters~

I've been hinting the introduction of a new character, and chapter 6 will have plenty hints of that, so I'm really excited for their eventual release since it'll really spice up the story and characters. It's a yandere story, after all.

Slight spoiler for chapter 6 down below, if you didn’t already piece this out:

I don't know if anyone has pieced this out yet, but our reader is bipolar (hence part of the psychological aspects of her), and it's something we'll see more of in chapter 6 and onwards. I'm going to do my absolute best to not make her a stereotype of the typical bipolar stereotype (0-100 real fast, sudden mood shifts, etc). I don't want it to feel like anybody is being targeted or portrayed inaccurately, nor to do I want it to feel as the disorder is glamorized/romantized. I want reader to feel like a real person, just like how disorders (especially mental) are real too.

I'm definitely going to have to update my warnings because I'll be honest, the plot is being written as I write along and I don't want to trigger anyone or have unsuspecting readers read something they weren't expecting, so make sure to reread my warnings when chapter 6 is out!

I genuinely didn't believe many people would care much about this series, and I wrote it for fun, but it's such a wonderful surprise seeing people engage in my stories and ideas, you're apart of this journey just as much as I am.

Chapter 6 is currently at 6,000+ words and still has a lot more to go through, so it'll be a long chapter! Thank you my stars, for your support, patience, and giving me motivation!

The Andrew "Andy" Graves complete masterlist

Inbox is currently OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, temporarily closed for requests!

[narzissenkreuz-ordo]

ok im done wuthering my waves for the night

so far my thoughts are leaning towards positive since i was having fun the whole time:

the game does not feel polished at all and ran into a couple of weird visual/audio glitches.

the eng voice acting is hit or miss.

im not gonna judge the story at all because it would be like judging genshin halfway thru mondstadt, but after meeting scar i'm a lot more intrigued about the whatever themes the story is trying to say, because that fucked up fairy tale he told was sick as fuck. other than that im kinda ehhh at this point

im not a gamer, hyv games that got me REALLY playing video games besides a few select few so i dont consider myself 'good' at video games but the combat is fun and satisfying

the open world doesnt feel empty at all like i feared it would there have been plenty of shinnies to get distracted at and its a fun time

the echo system is a bit confusing and i still dont rlly understand how sets & stats work. but making 'artifacts' be pokemon you can run around and capture is SUCH a cool ass, but unsure how well it'll be in the later game statages

ended up with calcharo as my 5* and i'm glad because hes pretty straight forward and easy to use so its helpful during the learning process

i like how when you get new characters a little tutorial is unlocked and it walks you through the characters kit real time and its SO helpful in understanding what they do and if you like a character play style enough to level up a bit

i've been running around with calcharo and mortefi. switching around w danjin/aalto. i think sanhua is pretty and will probably use her when i DO get her, and i think i wanna go for changli when she comes out because boy is she PRETTY

silly thoughts:

the rave turtle echo is fuckin hilarious i love it

the world's fucked up problem being called 'lament' just makes me cackle and think of mr zy0x

i was expecting scar to be the edgy teehee so random im crazy xD type character but im pleasantly surprised by his introduction and im v curious about him

aalto is silly

mortefi is hot i like him, i had to pick a dude in this game it would probably be him (so far)

alright i think those are all my thoughts for now

[peachiseas]

okay i am very new here, so i need a through introduction to your mcs! like eve for example, pls post his whole biography o(╥﹏╥)o

fr tho, tell me anything and everything :D

TOOK SO DAMN LONG SINCE I WANTED TO DRAW A STEP ONE REF OF EVE BUT ITS GONNA TAKE A MINUTE so here are the sketches,,, Anyways- gonna introduce the main two mcs/ocs you'll see here: Eve Cortez Williams and Aaliyah Dubious

(dont mind my ipad scribbles on the screenshot iofqiowogi) Lemme put this under a readmore actually so yall dont get slammed with a long ass post:

Starting with Eve:

He's my Tamarack MC, but I figured since uh. all my art that was a given

He has a strained relationship with Qiu in step 1 but they become besties by step 2 and by step 3, they are like family to each other. If no one got Eve, Eve knows Qiu got them, amen 🙏

He comes out as transmasc by step 2, and by step 3 he gets top surgery and starts taking testosterone and firmly identifies as a butch lesbian

He's from the southern part of Miami, Florida. He's Golden Grove's residential florida man

He practices martial arts religiously, he's a big fan of Goku and Dragonball in general so he wants to be like his idol

His story deviates a bit from the OL2 generic mc story, he did have a dad! Opal and his dad wanted a kid but they both didn't want to get married and since the two of them were best friends, they decided to have a kid together (or well two but we'll talk about that later)

What's important to note from above is that his dad isn't around anymore because his father passed away a few months ago due to a car accident and Eve was hospitalized as a result

So by the time he's at Golden Grove, he's in anger stages of his grief and he doesn't want to be bothered. Which sucks cause hes neighbors with the two loudest kids on the block

Doesn't help he's a ESL speaker (English as a Second Language) and Golden Grove's population is majorly white so he has even harder of a time adjusting to it

He gets into fights in step 1... a Lot. Someone will look at him funny and they'll get punched in the face

He does adjust but he still doesn't like Golden Grove by step 3 but funnily enough, he moves away at the end of step 3 for treatment but moves back in step 4, crazy how that shit works huh

He has two emotional support bunnies; Bulma and Chi-Chi! He gets them in step 2, Qiu and Eve bond over them LMFAO

As for Aaliyah:

She's my Qiu MC, to the shocker of no one. Tamarack is also her best friend <3

Aaliyah is from New Orleans, Louisiana! She's full blooded Haitian and she has family in Haiti

She's also transfem! She passes for cis in step 1 thanks to hormone blockers and some makeup and then starts taking estrogen in step 2 and onwards

Her being black and transfemme is integral to her character and how she navigates around Golden Grove, she doesn't tell anyone she's trans until near the end of step 1. By step 3, the girl gang and Qiu knows shes trans

^^ That's because she had a very negative experience coming out to her community who previously loved her but flipped on her just as fast

So moving to Golden Grove was supposed to be a fresh start for her as herself but by that point she feels like she has to keep up her "cis-sona" lest she gets bullied again

She still gets bullied for other reasons in step 2 though (being a pretty black girl and the one person who has a crush on her is the most popular kid in school... its rough! 😭)

By step 4 though she is proud to call herself trans and will let people know!

She lovessss animals! And the animals love her back! She feeds them all the time and keeps animal food on her for that purpose when she goes to the park to read by herself, she got a flock of crows and stray cats that like to follow her

She has a cat named Kiki!!! Kiki loves everyone except Qiu though, Aaliyah doesnt know that though-

I hope that was enough of a info-dump! If anyone has anymore questions please ask i have so much lore please-

[bsd-fan]

Chuuya´s Analysis part one: Introduction

I´m gonna be real here, this is less an analysis and more a super long rambling. I´m sorry.

I love bsd, I can talk about it for ages. I can talk about the contrasts, paralellisms, relationships and characters without getting tired because all of them are so well done and you can really see the effort behind every single one of them, but when it comes to chuuya? It´s a whole new deal. Chuuya´s characterization is simply fascinating, every little detail about his character was so carefully done and it really is evident for the readers to see how much planning was involved in his creation. Chuuya is genuine and transparent where Dazai is cryptid and unreliable, which means that yes, he is far easier to read in comparison with Dazai but this doesn´t mean that he is less complex because of this, he actually has one of the most complete and interesting  characterizations of bsd. Let me add that just like Dazai, chuuya is also a big pain in the ass to analyze but that´s not because he is an unrealiable character is because chuuya is without doubt the most /contradictory/ character from the whole series. 

You´ve probably wondered about chuuya at certain point. He is barely in the story, it has never been a secret that he is a side character but even then he still is the second must popular character (only behind Dazai that appear far more than chuuya does) and I will confidently say that he is the most loved character from the story. The man appears 3 seconds in the trailer and people are going crazy about him, he has appereances of like a minute and that´s what the fandom will be talking about for weeks and if he is not in the manga? You can bet your ass that people will be complaining about that. You can see the ambivalent opinions of the fandom for most of the characters but this generally speaking doesn´t apply to chuuya (yes, there may be people that doesn´t like him but is such a minority that is kind of irrelevant) Honestly a big part of it relies in his personality. From all the bsd characters chuuya is the most similar to the typical hero of the stories. He is powerful, charismatic, caring, noble, selfless, honest and canonically speaking a terrible liar, genuine, conventionally brave and pathologically loyal.

Now the interesting thing is that chuuya´s character take all of this good characteristics and gave them a twist. 

This leads us to the first contradiction, how can someone have so many hero-like characteristics and still be on the “bad” side? what is the thing that makes chuuya a morally grey character? To answer this, let´s trace a parallelism with the most morally “correct” character in the story: Kunikida doppo.

While reading the novels I noticed something fascinating: Chuuya and kunikida use the same quote to define themselves. EXACTLY. THE. SAME. ONE. 

(First picture is from the official traslation from the first light novel “Osamu Dazai´s entrance exam and is from kunikida´s pov. The second one is the from the official traslation of “Stormbringer” said by Chuuya)

But even if the quote is basiccally the same one, they mean completely different things while using it and that´s because their core as characters is completely different. This is especially obvious during the cannibalism arc:

Kunikida is an idealist, for him to “do what must be done” means to act according to his ideals or in a way that will lead him to the ideal outcome (This is honesly an over simplified take on his character but this is not a kunikida´s analysis) So in this arc, Kunikida refuses to kill Mori because the ideal is to find a solution where they don´t fall into fyodor´s manipulation and nobody dies. Problem is they don´t have time for that, kunikida gets paralized because he can´t find the best solution and Ranpo steps in. Chuuya went for a different option. Just as kunikida he knew that they were being manipulated but he chose to go along with it because his priority  was to save Mori. For chuuya to do what needs to be done is not about ideals, is about protecting the important people in his life and while this is a central part of him, we need to understant that this need to protect come from an even deeper part of him. This is where the analysis really start.

I´ve say it before but Dazai and Chuuya are a mirror image of each other. Two sides of the same coin. At first sight, they may seem completely different. Their personalities, life perspectives, moral system and beliefs constantly clash but actually a lot of this differences come from a same root. They have exactly the same main conflict and that´s their inability to recognize their humanity and the desperate need to find it despite that, but the way they experience and deal with this same conflict is completely different beacuse the origin of the problem /is/ different. Dazai´s main problem with his humanity comes from a distorted perspective of himself caused by a prolongued alienation and isolation from the rest of the people. Chuuya´s problem with humanity is in the  literal sense of the word. He doesn´t know if he is human or if he´s not and from this problematic arise other situations that consolidates his lack of humanity in chuuya´s mind. He appears in this world at seven years old without memories, without family, without dreams, without an /identity/. All of them human things, all of them things that chuuya lacks. So, if you don´t have any of those things how can you call yourself a human being? To this, let´s add that people reinforce this idea by deshumanizing him /all the time/

He is the king of the sheep.

He is arahabaki. 

He is the God of destruction. 

He is a safeguard. 

He is a vessel. 

He is a number. 

He is 2,383 lines of a code. 

People seem to see him as everything except as a human being. 

“The calamity that breathes-The god with a beating heart. Arahabaki, you are alone. Nobody can ever understand you. You are neither a god nor a human. You will simply struggle amid your fellows before dying with nothing but your own embrace to comfort you”-Verlaine. Dazai, chuuya, fifteen years old. 

But just like Dazai, the problem is not in how people perceives him, the problem is that chuuya believes it. 

At fifteen chuuya conceives himself as a mere container for arahabaki, his personality a safeguard for his ability. Chuuya doesn´t see himself as a human being, just as a powerful asset.

“Hey. You wanna know why I always fight without using my hands? (…) I’ve never lost a fight in my life. I’ve never even been in real danger…but that’s not surprise. After all, I’m not even a human. My identity is a safeguard, like you said. Nothing more than a pattern etched on a colossal furnace of power. Hey…Do you know how that feels”- Chuuya from Dazai, chuuya, fifteen years old. 

And thing is, chuuya is extremely concious about his lack of humanity but god, he clings to it with everything he has and it´s still not enough. In stormbringer, Verlaine, N and basically every single person reminds him once and once again that he is not a human being, that he only exists as a result of an experiment, that he is only a weapon to be used, that he is only a code, that he is a clon. Choose whatever you want from the above because the idea behind them is the same. Chuuya is not a human being. 

Except he is.

And that´s what stormbringer is about and this is the reason this is the most important arc for chuuya´s character. 

I´ll continue this in a second part. 

[whimsi-clown]

POCAHONTAS LIVE REACTION BABEYYY!!!

Note: The last time I watched this movie, I was a wee little babe. So I guess I'll be in for a wild ride.

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Damn, so many people kissing in just one or two scenes. Good for them, I guess, considering they might not see each other again.

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Pfft- Did I just see a background character carrying a pig? I wonder who among the crew owned that pig.

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*John Smith jumps into a stormy ocean to save Thomas.*

"ARE YOU CRAZY!?"

Most relatable line I've ever heard. Thank you, nameless side character.

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"You'd do the same for me"

Nah, man. They wouldn't be able to do acrobatics like you do.

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Damn, the first actual introduction of the villain, Governor Ratcliffe, and the first thing I'm greeted with is the god-awful angle of his nose holes staring back at me.

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Wait a minute, is this dude wearing lavender eyeshadow?? Damn, good for him. Wish I could pull that off.

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Oh damn, I keep forgetting this movie is racist. I remembered it so differently.

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It has very pretty visuals though.

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First intro of Pocahontas and the bitch be smoldering into the distance with the wind flowing through her hair. What a woman.

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Pocahontas: *high dives off a cliff into the water.*

The female best friend of the protagonist: "Show-off"

You took the words right off my mouth, nameless character number 2. Show-off indeed.

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Pfft-

"I especially love his smile"

*Shows character with a serious face.*

Another relatable line.

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Damn, this bitch is absolutely fearless. Just kayaks herself off a raging waterfall and narrowly avoiding the large rocks in her path.

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"Men like Smith, don't they?"

Well, I mean "like" as in admire or "like" as in a gay way? Cuz either way, it's probably a yes.

"I've never been... Popular."

Gee, I wonder why. Also Wiggins is so adorable man. Wtf.

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The way he says "success will be mine at last" is so weird, is it just me?

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Damn, this whole time, I thought the old shaman like person with the chief was an old woman with a really deep voice.

Awkward...

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How many times have I already seen this guy's nostrils? 5, 8 times? Seriously, I like Governor Ratcliffe, but even I'm getting tired of him hautily raising his chin up to show off his second set of eyes.

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Ngl, I kinda like how this girl be slowly creepin' like a graceful spider of sorts while stalking a man.

Wish I could do that without looking stupid and dumb.

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Bruh. Guy loads a flintlock pistol and jumps through a waterfall. How is that thing still loaded? How is it gonna shoot??

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Ok, this bitch has serious plot armor. She just met the guy and heard him speak english a couple of times once, and already she can speak english because she "listened with her heart."

Is that what I have to do in order to understand math now?

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Pfft- I'm getting Avatar vibes from this whole interaction with Pocahontas and John Smith.

The big blue alien Avatar that is.

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Ugghhh. I'm cringing so hard. John Smith is digging his own grave. Stop dissing her people and culture in front of her man. That's so ick.

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Yea gurl! Pop off in musical!! Beat that boy's small minded view in song!!! Eviscerate that man's perception of reality!!!! PAINT WITH ALL THE COLORS OF THE WIND!!!!!

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Damn, ngl, Ratcliffe is kinda attractive... If he didn't have those weird ass front pigtails constantly on. Like, he wears two ribbon bows for his front hair but leaves the rest of his back hair untied? Is this old rich people fashion??

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AHAHAHAHAH, I'M LAUGHING SO HARD AT THESE MENS REACTIONS. John Smith looking like he just won the crazy award while looking up at a talking tree. And then the two nameless character's facial expressions when they fell to the ground and see the tree roots move. XD

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... I hate to say this, but damn does Ratcliffe have big boobs. Is he secretly wearing a corset under that purple blouse? XD

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Screw John Smith and Pocahontas. Percy and Miko are the real love team here.

Change my mind.

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"I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without you."

Ok. I hate John Smith, but damn is that not a romantic ass line.

Could have been said better, though.

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Dear god the face he makes when he looks at her and the way he leans into her touch like a man starved.

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I know the Savages song is bad, but like... Why does it sound so good? Why do I like it?? What is wrong with me??? Is it because Ratcliffe is singing it???? Do I like Ratcliffe now????? Man, I need serious help.

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Girls got balls, willing to take a hit for a man. Is this how it actually happens in the real story of Pocahontas? Idk history, man. I'm just vibing.

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Hm. A weird little detail I noticed in Governor Ratcliffe is that his face slowly grows red when he's angry or frustrated, like, the change is subtle enough that you don't notice it until it's there.

...

Why am I paying so much attention to him?

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Damn, girl knows where her priority lies and sticks with her peeps.

Good for her...

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I just noticed I say "Damn" a lot...

Damn...

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Just finished the movie, it was surprisingly ok

...

Welp. Time for Pocahontas 2.

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 2, Part 1/3 (p. 249-439)

Read the previous post here.

From this point on, these successive Act breakdowns will be spread across multiple posts. Act 1 is easily the shortest Act at 248 pages, so I was able to fit everything in one post. I think I just barely made it under the image limit. Anyway, let's move right along to Act 2.

I didn't discuss Rose's character in the last post, so I think this is a good time to talk about her. She strikes me as a bit of a "gifted kid" that was always ahead of her peers in terms of academics. She's bookish and more educated than her friends, a fact that she flaunts by utilizing her robust vocabulary and making allusions that go over other peoples' heads.

She must love having a dullard like John as a friend. He's too dumb to cotton onto her pretentious, ridiculous metaphors. She can act like a pseud all she wants and he'd never question it. He just sees big words, assumes she's talking about something far beyond his understanding, and laughs it off. To him, she just comes across as very smart, which is precisely the image of herself she wants to cultivate for others. Having someone like that in her close friend group must give her immense validation.

This GameFAQs guide is a great showcase of her big ego. She uses multiple paragraphs full of unnecessary verbiage to deliver a simple introduction. "My introduction will be sparse" my ass! Imagine trying to scour through this while meteors are crashing down all around you. Even though nobody who reads this is going to survive, she still insists on making a big spectacle of things and flexing her skills as a writer.

And yet, she's so secretive of her private writings, refusing to let the reader even look at them. Her persona of being a highbrow intellectual obsessed with psychoanalysis is all a facade, something she uses to conceal her genuine interests (wizards and fantasy).

I guess what I'm trying to say with all this is that even though Rose comes across as garrulous and self-important, she's still a more fleshed out character than John.

I severely dislike these little walk-around segments. Normally I'm a fan of point-and-click adventure games, but this feels so clunky and not fun to move around in. You explore them the first time and have no inclination to do so ever again. I can't even find any worthwhile dialogue clicking on any of the objects. It's a waste of time. I'm glad there's only one other page like this later on before Hussie switches to the "Alterniabound" design.

Rose exposits this fantastical scenario John has found himself in, as well as the impending danger threatening the rest of the world. All he has to say about it is "wow, ok." I can't deal with this kid, man. He must've been lobotomized shortly after birth or something.

He has more of a reaction to Rose seemingly forgetting his birthday than to any of the other crazy shit currently happening. He doesn't even thank her for helping to save his life. This reread is really making me hate John.

John seems to draw the line at following potentially life-threatening commands. Though I somehow think this has more to do with WV having gained control of the command console at this point in the story. Unlike Rose or the reader, WV has a very rude and authoritative way of typing commands that upsets John. I wonder if he'd have less reservations crossing the catwalk if Rose told him to do it.

Here's the beginning of the "Fedorafreak Saga" where this man is shown to survive the cataclysm brought on by Sburb. It's kind of a fun little diversion, but there's no real payoff to it.

"especially ethnic wedding" is another crazy Rose quote. Also this GameFAQs guide continues to be incredibly word-dense and not at all conducive to helping players succeed in this literal life-or-death scenario. Especially when they're on a time limit.

For narrative purposes, it's just info-dumping all the technicalities of the various Sburb mechanics. It really isn't worth reading, in my opinion. The game mechanics might be one of the least interesting parts of Homestuck to me. I don't want to get bogged down reading about how an alchemiter works.

Besides, we saw all these mechanics in action during Act 1; it's unnecessary to read about all of it again. This sort of thing should be reserved for supplemental material, not as a part of the work itself.

Dave be spittin' bars here. I don't think enough acknowledgement is given to Dave's rhymes. I think they're pretty funny. I'd like to hear someone actually rap them over a beat.

Dave continues to make reference to his and Rose's flirting. John is tired of hearing about it.

needleKind might be a contender for the dumbest kind abstratus since knitting needles aren't even sharp. I wonder if Hussie was even aware of that. Probably not or else he wouldn't have included that "filet a sword fish" line.

All the creature entries in the Grimoire are funny, but this one takes the cake. Every sentence here is gold.

This is a nice passage that I like a lot. It seems to relate to Rose's quest to "play the rain" later on in the story. I'll talk more about it when I reach that part, but it was always a part of the story that I wanted to see come to fruition and it burned me that it never did.

However, reading this passage and noting how it actually does foreshadow Rose's reluctance and ultimate failure to play the rain does help ease the sting a little bit. It is thematically relevant to Rose's character for her to put on this grandiose display of competence only to fumble when put on the spot. She's a kid who's way in over her head, something that applies to many of Homestuck's characters.

Unfortunately, it's capped off with the fourth instance of this dumb misattributed quote gag. The Charles Barkley detail is part of another running gag where all the kids are associated with a black celebrity, Charles Barkley in Rose's case. It's weird and I don't get it.

Dave swoops in from nowhere and interrupts Rose's scene to do his intro. Like Rose, he also disobeys the reader's commands, going so far as to slice apart the text box when the joke name is typed in. (Insufferable Prick... now where have I heard that before?)

(Rose's joke name "Flighty Broad" was also based on a line Dave called her before).

Dave's interest in photography and dead things don't manifest nearly as often as his love of rapping and music. He specifically likes obscure bands because he's a hipster doofus. Funnily enough, I don't see as many people call him a hipster as often as they do to other characters like say, Eridan.

Dave never does bleat like a goat by the comic's end, does he?

Dave, despite outwardly acting like an aloof jackass most of the time, really does care about his friends. I think that's part of the reason he's always been my favorite out of the kids.

I love that Clubs Deuce just flails about uselessly when the Midnight Crew are all beating the shit out of each other.

In Dave and Rose's first pesterlog, Rose immediately suggests Dave might be gay because he's been ignoring her. Unlike John, Dave is able to keep up with Rose's repartee and the results are some of the better written pesterlogs in the whole comic. I love the chemistry between these two so much. Dave is less cerebral than Rose, but he's just as intelligent. He's able to see past her shit and challenge her instead of being awed by her intellect. She in turn also sees right through his own mask of "irony" and tries to poke holes in it.

Their friendship seems the strongest out of the whole group; Dave even mentions that he knows who's messaging him before he checks the Pesterchum window. In previous conversations with John, he acts as though Rose is a nuisance and that she's always bugging him, but here we see them get along very well. At no point does he attempt to brush her off or weasel out of the conversation.

For Rose's part, Dave isn't some sycophant or a dupe who's swayed by her way with words. He's someone she can respect, someone who can match her mentally, and someone who loves typing out over the top metaphors just as much as she does. It's likely refreshing for her to be around someone like that, which is why she's always pursuing him for conversation.

Ah, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities to further gush about these two as I progress through the story. For now, let's keep moving.

Oh don't worry, she'll hold you to that promise.

Rose responds to Dave's earlier interruption with one of her own and we're back to her perspective again. Even meta-textually, they go back and forth with each other.

For an aspiring psychoanalyst, Rose is quick to dismiss the idea that her mother's behavior is motivated by anything except spite. Rose's mom knows her daughter loves wizards, so she buys all this wizard memorabilia in the hopes it'll make her happy. Rose, refusing to believe her mom feels genuine love toward her, twists these gestures into ones of malice and mockery. Teenagers, am I right?

This is similar to how John's dad displays all that harlequin junk in the house to please his son, even though John can't stand any of it. Parents not understanding their children is a classic theme in Homestuck.

Rose acting utterly deranged in response to her mom's sincere, albeit excessive, displays of affection.

Dave's conversation with Jade is void of all the wit and chemistry present in his talk with Rose. Here he strips himself of his sardonic, crude side because he is a dumb teenage boy fawning over the "nice girl" to get in her good graces.

Jade is just... I don't think I can put off talking about her for much longer. Perhaps in the next post I'll explain my gripes with her character.

I'm not sure what to make of Mom Lalonde's "ironic negligence" where she offers Rose her martini. Is she playing into Rose's idea of her as an incompetent mother, or is she just that drunk right now?

I don't think that Mom is the perfect parent, mind you. She does come across as emotionally distant and constantly intoxicated. To compensate for that, she showers Rose with gifts, which isn't exactly a good substitute for proper parenting, well-intentioned as it may be.

Mom isn't perfect, but she's trying. Rose's insistence that she's some kind of spiteful, passive-aggressive mastermind is pure delusion on her part.

Dave trusts Rose enough to tell her that he doesn't like his brother's puppets as much as he lets on. Very interesting for someone who is so hesitant to drop his mask around others.

Also, Rose reveals that she likes his brother's puppet porn websites.

Oh no! Yeah, really selling that distress, John.

He has a bigger negative reaction to being told to eat some cookies than he does to finding out his father had been kidnapped. If I was in Rose's place, I'd be losing my mind.

In this first third of Act 2, it still suffers from the same PS-esque jokes and video game references. John is still aggravatingly dull and his conflict with WV is unfunny and interrupts the pace.

But the stakes are also getting higher, the plot is progressing, and the cast is expanding with two much stronger characters. Overall, I think this is a step up so far.

Read the next post here.

[avareiahgt]

This is a short introduction to the main characters.

Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence

First and previous / Next

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ACT I, PART I: NOT JUST A TEST

That day was not a day, it was The Day and I wasn't going to fail. I spent the day thinking about nothing but victory. On my mind, we were alone: the sand, the finish line and me. A lot of participants aimed to my position and were around me, but I was all alone inside my head.

I trained for a whole year. I failed the last annual recruitment exam because I couldn't end the race on time even if I got in the top five on written test. That was last year. Now, I meant to do it well. I didn't think about waste so many months and sleepless nights of study because of some stupid seconds as the past year.

Alarm ringed and everything went so fast. My feet searched for the soft sand to support, my eyes saw the fastest candidates's backs. Meanwhile, other candidates only could see mine. My ears could only listen to the repetitive sound of my sports hitting the ground and the hard tries of my lungs to keep the breathing efficient enough for the exercise.

My vision was full of the finish line, but I didn't stop or slow. Even when I exceeded it, my feet kept running. Some seconds later, my brain understood that I had to stop at some point: it was done. When I finally collapsed putting my weight in the last wall inside the facility, the finish ring filled the room. I had passed the finish lane before the ringing... So that meant... I did it. I actually did it!

That was the exact second when energy leak left me actually exhausted, so much that my knees threated to letting me fall. Luckily, before my own body betrayed me, two strong and hard arms avoided my fall. Marian's copper and messy hair looked up at me. Her honey eyes were studying me with some mix of fascination and approval.

—You did it on time! — she nodded while talking to me. My face said that I wasn't understanding a single word that was being spoke to me.

—What? — I inquired, misplaced.

—We have passed the ultimate test. We are now part of the team— at the end, all my efforts had been compensated by those words. Marian had done the favor of speak them out loud, making them a reality.

The more I tried to keep my knees straight, the more I was dragged by my imagination where I found some extraordinary places never seen before, new useful species and came back home to stay during winter each year, ready to tell my family and friends about my adventures.

The way to the shower was, at least, surreal, a distant memory with the blood bombing through my temples, not because of the physical effort, but the emotion of fulfilling my objective. This was my first step and I could only imagine the bigger ones that would come after this one.

I relaxed more than enough under the hot stream after years of tension and worries. Then it slapped me: the urgent need to jump, to cry, to scream, to laugh my ass off, everything at the same time. I did my best to retain those emotions and made an exertion to make my way back home.

Marian was waiting me at the exit and I met her with a high-five, no need of words. We started heading home, it was nice that she lived in the same direction as me.

On our way back, we gazed at sunset while slow walking. At some point, she asked to stop by a bakery alleging she deserved it because of all her efforts. I didn't find myself strong enough to resist my sweet-teeth, so I decided to wait outside. A minute after her entry, the doorbell sang.

—I'm glad you regretted it, pastries take half life to leave hips...—I started my lecture to Marian for her to hold her line. But that wasn't Marian's face what I confronted. Andrei's handsome face appeared outside the door with two loaves of bread, he looked at me like I was crazy.

—I'm just buying bread this time, but I guess it's a helpful advice— he said with a silent smile. He spoke quietly, almost muttering. He always had been a disciplined, strict and beautiful guy.

Andrei Jabenski had nothing special but, to my eyes, he was the hottest guy in the whole city. Pretty smart, serious, looking for a teacher position, he had a bright white skin and glasses that intensified his mature appearance. We had been classmates for some years but our ways separated when he started college and I looked for a military life.

Neither of us could deny we had something strange between us, some kind of inexplicable magnetism that kept me telling crap whenever I was near him. Lucky me, years built that kind of confidence that would allow us both to do stupid things without being judged by the other one. I sticked to the illusion of him thinking I was just funny, not the simple idiot I was in real life.

His mature looking was companied with black t-shit and corduroy pants. He was just a year older than me, but he looked so prepared for a serious job, a home and tons of children. In some way, I envied him. But I was not a good one with kids. I also didn't need a partner, I only could think about my adventures. Anyway, that didn't mean I would not spend some intimate nights with someone like Andrei.

—I'm sorry, Andrei—I knew how to apologize very well, what I didn't mastered was the art of hiding my ugly tomato-like face—. I am waiting for some military fellow that just entered the shop. I hoped she would have regretted it but I'm seeing it's nothing like that...—truth came nervously from my mouth with a hysteric laugh I could not control. I just wished the ground swallowed me whole.

—No problem at all, but tell me more— he came near my side, leaning on a streetlight on my left, so close to me—. That sounds like you have hit your goal, is it? Have they been so hard on you with those tests?

Every soul in Berhem already knew I wasn't one to dedicate my life to family or some boring job, but most of the population there did exactly that. That was why amounts of people kept asking me annoying questions and giving me advices I didn't ask for: haven't you passed the exam yet?; Have you thought about studying economics? It suits you; You are pretty, you should use it to find some good man and inherit the familiar business... Arg! All those stupid blabbers... They always got on my nerves even when I was trying not to.

—Yes, sir! Today, just an hour ago—I clarified with proud. Did I impress him?

—Congrats! I wouldn't be tough enough to make it— he whistled.

—Of course you would be! You are way smarter than me and you are so hard-working— I started but he silenced me putting a finger on my lips.

—Don't be like that, you deserve it— he cleared his throat—. It is an special day and you should be giving it to yourself—a white smile appeared on his face.

I though briefly about that.

Bye bye, sister, daughter and student's boring life. Welcome, new world.

Marian left me at home. We said goodbye with a smile.

—See you tomorrow. And be punctual, they are going to give us our first uniform— she reminded me.

—I will try to be on time with all my strength— I said smiling.

Once I crossed the front door, the weight of three gazes fell over me. My mother's dark eyes, like the ones my brother and I had, and the blue ones that belonged to my father, were there. Even with the color difference all of them asked the same question, silently.

—Dear family...—I lowered my voice and locked eyes with each one of them— I'm in!!

The next second, they were all over me, my body buried under them in a tight hug. The world stopped for a second while I had a deep look at my home. Entry opened directly to the living room with yellow painted walls and it was full of familiar treasures. Leo's test books were atop the big and round wood table where we had breakfast and dinner every single day, for him to soon take the exam access for superior school; the kitchen bar connected with that space, full of flowers -my father loved them and brought one new vase every week-. Every little detail reminded me that I had never been away from the house that saw me born.

From time to time, my family calmed themselves and asked me for explanations.

—Initiation ceremony and uniform delivery are tomorrow. Then they are holding a little party and take all of us to a survival training— my mother's smile faded and I felt that hitting my soul as she opened her mouth to protest, but I was faster than her and kept talking to make my point— . It's not a mission, they just want us to prove what we can do against the wild exterior. We are MFEI, no less. We can't waste our time inside the limits waiting for something we are not prepared or aware of... We need to deal with all kind of situations.

—What if it happens something to you out there? — my mother asked, referring to the expert supervisor that, in her head, should protect me from every evil in the world.

—Corine, Hanna is old enough to decide if she will go or not— my father intervened, voice full of distrust same as my mother's—. She has been training so much time for this to work and now she's doing it. It is the moment for her to start the adult life path.

My father, as usual, was right. I was 19 -two months left- and I had never had something so clear for me than this.

—Listen to me— I commanded—, I'm gonna learn how to deal with birds, foxes, adverse weather conditions...—I thought of the last words deciding if I should keep them for me, but they slipped away— maybe even with giants— I regretted it the second those words left my lips. Fear filled my parent's eyes.

—They can't do that, it's so dangerous for kids like you to study those aberrations— my mother said.

My father meditated it for a while.

—I agree with your mother, it's so dangerous. That encounter would end on an abrupt and absurd death.

Leo stayed quiet, but opened his eyes when the giant theme went up.

—Are you going to fight them? How are you going to avoid being crushed with a single hand? No, one finger would be enough to...— he was starting to get nervous. Every kid was afraid of giants. Their dreams were crowned by huge evil monsters that seemed like people ready to crush them or letting them fall form an unimaginable height.

—Don't you worry, I am not afraid of giants. They are the ones that should be afraid of me, even if they don't know me yet— Leo was only twelve. I had to stand strong for him.

The following day I stayed punctual at the very boring ceremony where they told us about honor and promotion and blah blah blah. I couldn't care less about those things, all I needed was to learn about the outside.

At the end, I looked for Marian and collided with a superior who looked a bit older than me. He was big, strong, hair almost white with a dark golden skin. So attractive, I must say. Also seemed eccentric.

—I'm so sorry— I whispered getting my head down. He grabbed my chin with a hand and made me look at his eyes. He was not so tall, but taller than me.

—Dear, look where you are going, it could cost you a hand or more in battlefield— he told me with exquisite manners. I got stucked there, not knowing what to do while he winked at me and, like nothing happened, continued his way.

When I turned around Marian intercepted me with another girl whose name I didn't remember. We met her during trainings but never talked a lot.

—That was no other than Markus Kingson! —the girl -Beth, I remembered later- was in the verge of shouting or faint. Or both.

—Who? — I asked. They looked at me like I was crazy. How important was that man?

—He's the youngest cadette in MFEI that made it to the 4th range only in three years— Marian explained, Beth nodding at her side. Both of them glanced at the boy from the distance.

—What did he say to you? — they asked at the same time, then looked at each other with complicity and wait for my answer.

—I'm not sure if he threatened me or what... I tripped on him and then apologized— their mouths heavily open. I knew that telling this out loud was far more incredible than it really was, specially since the two of the already declared themselves, non-officially, fangirls of him.

—He is a gentleman, he would never do that— Beth said.

The truth was, I wasn't sure if it was threat, an advice or a warning. Even I thought, for a second, that his words contained some kind of flirtation. Nevermind, it could have been nothing. Whatever, I wasn't about to pay attention to something like that right now.

We kept talking about the following day training. Marian wanted to go party and then heading to the camp without a drop of sleep. Beth appealed at our common sense and suggested to go to sleep before sunset in order to wake up early and fresh the next day. I proposed a mid-term idea, so we went to grab some drinks and then went home after having some fun.

We weren't friends, more like workmates. No one had told me that I would miss even that.

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The metal compass hitted the wall and left a mark on it. I looked at it, enraged. A new mark among countless others. I wasn't one with bad temper but I felt burned up when some concept scaped my comprehension.

—Stupid modern buildings and stupid modern design, what's wrong with baroque? — I muttered pressing both my eyes with my left hand. I had stayed in the same position for hours, focused on the project that should be ended and displayed in three days. Even I didn't think it could get approved.

I looked absently to the design table. It was beautiful, useful and expensive. One project to end college and then I would be a little boss in some weird project for a random company and got stressed out every day for the rest of my life. Awesome. It was time to play the piano, I thought, picturing on my mind how I would pet the white keys, its sound floating in the air. I savored the thought and then went for it, ending my work for that day.

I arrived to the living room only to sit down in front of the piano and light a cigarette. I took a drag on it. Then another one. And a third one before I started feeling better. Even if it would kill me in the end, life was far better with a cigarette at hand.

Calmly, I started playing with one hand. Then, both and the notes slowly took the shape of a song. I played until midnight without even think about neighbors: the flat under mine was empty, the one above mine was inhabited by an old couple that they could only talk to each other shouting, and a divorced nurse lived in the one in front of mine, she worked at nights in order to attend her two sons during the day.

My head spined looking for some smoke, finding the cigarette totally consumed by itself. I played with the idea of lighting one more. It always happened the same, I kept playing only to find that I had nothing to take to my lips.

I had a habit to play without partiture, just giving voice to my feels. I had composed a lot of song, even a couple of them had been bought and became some musical successes after small changes were added to them. That paid off college.

I wasn't the emotional type, nor the chatty one. But even when I thought piano fulfilled me from the inside, I hit a wall. Something inside was missing, empty. For some time, I expected that feeling to be because of the lack of company, but ended up discarding that. Also, I didn't like people that much, so I preferred spend it with some close friends than waste it on huge parties. Unlucky me, I couldn't scape the ordes of people I had to deal with every day.

I woke up, took my clothes away and got into bed. The next day was one more of facing things I didn't like.