#when no one else gives a shit. and is happy with decline in quality. in being coated with horse shit and laying in it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

Text

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence.

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something.

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place.

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more.

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy.

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain.

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over.

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at.

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why.

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck.

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault.

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize.

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals.

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things.

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting.

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person.

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe.

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better.

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water.

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands.

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats.

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program.

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating.

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack.

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you.

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked.

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything.

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home.

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days.

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice.

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs.

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts.

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly.

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight.

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat.

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment.

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode.

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself.

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting.

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble.

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.”

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed.

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to.

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home.

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate.

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year.

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters.

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask.

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping.

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat.

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches.

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors.

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates.

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score.

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended.

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him.

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah.

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head.

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel.

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up.

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair.

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump.

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip.

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps.

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey.

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you.

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake.

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye.

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel.

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you.

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before.

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice.

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves.

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates.

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet.

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone.

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd.

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals.

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features.

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point.

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase.

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him.

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months.

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper.

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about.

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list.

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship.

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them.

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights.

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop.

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.”

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience.

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door.

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles.

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years.

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut.

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?”

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall.

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?”

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is.

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete.

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly.

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction.

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well.

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much.

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal.

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror.

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger.

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates.

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch.

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city.

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile.

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift.

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible.

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities.

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off.

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals.

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine.

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep.

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front.

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly.

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay.

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse.

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you.

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself.

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot.

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down.

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help.

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there.

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater.

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain.

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength.

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again.

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#this right here is my baby #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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sofuckingdarling-blog-blog · 4 years ago

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Erwin, Levi and tea. Part one of two.

This headcanon drabble hybrid is related to the one I posted earlier regarding Erwin getting joy from teaching/showing Levi new things. it's a long one guys, so i decided to split into two parts!

Erwin is a frugal man by habit. It's not that he has any real convictions against indulging in luxuries it's more that he has no real urge to indulge himself. Erwin tells himself that his frugality is just part of the straight laced stiff postured mask he finds himself wearing all to often, it has nothing to do with an inability to indulge in pleasure without guilt. He doesn't want to analyze the reasons for that and so he very pointedly doesn't.

Anyway the years spent working with/on/around the Survey Corps budget have affected the way he looks at money. He's often had to watch the Corp struggle to afford critical items like morphine and warm winter clothing. Meanwhile the rich own enough gaudy, frivolous trinkets worth enough to keep the Survey Corp warm 10 times over. Yet he finds himself part of an almost constant battle to secure donations.

So when one day he looks over his budget and sees a pretty hefty sum dedicated to tea, he feels a little sheepish, but any discomfort he feels in relation to his new spending habits are quickly replaced with a sense of pleased accomplishment. The feeling is enough to make him flush on the spot, his cheeks and neck burn red as he thinks of his budget ledger as evidence of winning over his sour faced comrade. It feels almost illicit and Erwin loves it.

From the first moment Erwin saw Levi fly over rooftops with a grace that he was certain was unearned but totally natural, he wanted to know the man. It was a challenge at first, said man wanted little to do with him. Other then wanting him dead, but Erwin refused to accept that, he knew he still had a bounty on him and that Levi and his friends had not given up hope on collecting the reward. But Erwin loved a challenge.

So he watched Levi, whenever he could get away with it, which was sometimes hard to do as Levi had also taken to watching him as well, although for entirely less charitable reasons. Erwin felt that his study of Levi was necessary, for the benefit of humanity he needed to find an in. Or at least that's the reason he gave himself for his continued interest, his almost grating desire to know more about his small statured comrade.

It didn't take long for Erwin to notice that Levi appreciated tea, he had it with every meal and lingered over every cup as though the sub par tea they served in the Corps mess hall was something to be savored. That and the tea stores were somehow declining at a faster rate then they should be...it wasn't hard for Erwin to put two and two together.

His plan was simple really, he would let the expensive samples of tea do most of the convincing for him, because he honestly doubted that Levi would accept his offer for tea any other way. So the day after he had purchased and expensive tin containing a mixture of fine black tea leaves he approached Levi and tried his best to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his throat. He told Levi that he had recently gotten his hands on some of the finest black tea from Sina, that apparently the tea was well circulated among the nobles and as soon as he saw Levi's eye's switch from barely concealed disdain to subtle interest Erwin knew that he had him. Still he was relieved when Levi grit out a begrudging yes.

It was a little tense at first, Erwin tried to make conversation and Levi scoffed. But when Erwin brought the tea up to his office Levi finally manage to throw out "You brew tea like shit. This tastes like shit Smith." Erwin snorted somehow charmed by the disrespect, had anyone else spoke to him like that he wasn't sure his reaction would be half as accommodating. He suggested that maybe Levi could teach him how. Levi rolled his eyes, shrugged and took small sips of the offensive tea. Erwin told him he didn't have to finish it, but Levi said the tea was to fine to waste and despite Erwin's incredible talent in destroying high quality tea it still tasted better then some of the shit he had in the underground. For some reason even this small acknowledgment that Erwin had given Levi something that was any bit better then what he had underground made his neck feel hot. So they sat across from one another and Erwin filled the time with idle chatter about formations he was working on for the Corp, Levi did little else but grunt and sometimes give a curt nod but Erwin felt this to be a huge victory, a monumental first step to something he wasn't ready to give a name to.

Erwin loved these occasions with Levi, he paid detailed attention to the way Levi appreciated tea with each one of his senses. The way his eyes scanned over each new package of tea, taking in the colors, the painted pictures of flowers and plants, the curling letters prettily declaring the strains and flavors. Erwin was enthralled with the way Levi felt each package with fingers that were almost reverent in the way they would poke, prod and stroke at the fine tins and papers, how delicately they would grasp a few loose leaves feeling the dry delicate texture on his fingertips. Levi's head would make the slightest tilt when he listened for the soft crush of tea leaves against fancy tins or the crinkle of paper and cellophane. He would linger over the steam from his cup nostrils flared, inhaling each rich herbal scent, his throat worked the taste of each sip of tea down into his stomach a pool of warmth that could be anything from soothing to invigorating and Erwin felt incredibly privileged to witness Levi's enjoyment of each cup of overly expensive tea.

It made it to easy to shell out the coin, he didn't think twice about it, there was nothing more addicting then watching Levi indulge and Erwin was more then happy to make that happen. He felt fortunate that he was the one who was able to introduce Levi to each new blend and was made even more content when Levi discovered a favorite and would make requests for the ones he loved the most. Levi had asked him once why he was so willing to indulge in luxury tea, why he had such a large collection and Erwin a smooth liar at the worst of times told him plainly that he had loved tea since he was a child. Levi replied "If you've liked it so long then why do you brew it like shit?" but didn't pry any further and Erwin was immensely grateful because he wasn't ready to say the real reasons out loud and he knew for a fact that Levi was in no place to want to hear them.

For a while it was always Erwin who had to approach Levi with offers of tea so that he could enjoy his company and make small steps towards the inside of the younger mans incredibly fortified walls. Levi never sought out Erwin on his own, he was still obviously torn between his original plan of taking up the bounty on Erwin's head and begrudging respect for the man. Erwin didn't want to push to hard so allowed Levi to mostly come to terms with Erwin on his own, Erwin was nothing if not confident and he knew he would win Levi over. It wasn't just because of vanity that he thought that way. It was because he could see so much in Levi, beyond the blatant strength and talent was a heart that was incredibly pure and loving despite the man's harsh demeaner and even harsher background.

Erwin saw so much in Levi, to him the steel eyed gaze held so much depth of character, such a strong over flow of strength and a depth of humanity that would sometimes catch Erwin's breath in his throat and throw his words into a useless limbo. After each cup of tea they shared Erwin's heart would be left feeling swollen and stuck in the wrong place. Even when very little was said, or when they spoke of incredibly mundane things. It was confusing at first that he could feel so passionately, but be so unwilling to name the feelings. It scared him that his feelings could scare the man away from him, Erwin could see the distrust in the way Levi examined him and he didn't want to give him a single reason to feel vindicated in that distrust.

#aot headcanons #levi ackerman #erwin smith #eruri #levi/erwin #erwin/levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #erwin danchou #erwin aot #eruri feels #erwin headcanons #levi headcanons

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago

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Cherry (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: shinsou is my favorite, so im writing another one. reader is in a relationship with kirishima, but her best friend shinsou is in love with her and she is just beginning to realize she loves him back.

Ps- I really do feel the quality of my writing has been declining recently and im so sorry. I hope at least some of you can still enjoy.

Word count: 5500

__________________________

It was a long process, falling out of love with Kirishima. Every time Y/N felt things were about to come to an end, he would show up with a bouquet of roses and her favorite candies, or he would buy them tickets to see a movie she was desperate to see and he would slip his arm around her shoulders, and he just felt so warm and inviting. How could she be giving up on such a wonderful guy?

He was the perfect boyfriend. Had been for two years. Just why was she drifting away?

When he kissed her, she found herself more often than not just wanting it to be over. Hugs practically diminished on her end, followed by holding hands, and calling him when she was upset and needed someone to talk to.

Instead, she had reverted back to spending time with someone else. She felt like shit for it, not having realized how much she’d changed. Suddenly, when she felt the anxiety or fear of the hero world burdening her, she would call Shinsou Hitoshi. It was abnormal, really. They grew up on the same city block, and attended the same middle and high school. They were best friends.

They weren’t dating. Never had. Suddenly though, it felt like they should be.

She missed him, the close friendship they once had first year and prior. It wasn’t always that strong, this longing to see him, to talk to him, to have him wrap his arms around her and hold her tight against his chest. No no. She genuinely loved and wanted affection from Kirishima alone for a couple years. She was in love with him, that was never a lie.

Now her entire life felt backwards. She wanted the love of her best friend, and it weighed heavy on her. She felt guilty and disgusting for doing such a thing to Kirishima, who cared so much for her and always remained loyal. These new thoughts and feelings...she wished they would just go away.

But were they even new? She loved Shinsou as a friend for so long, but there were always hints of something more. To him, she was his first friend, the only one who took the time to get to know him and not just his villainous quirk. She was a kind soul, a generous girl with a smile that could rock anyone’s world. He was her rock, someone there to bring her down to Earth when things get overwhelming. He was calming and brave and ambitious, and she liked that in a friend. More so, she liked that about him. She liked everything about him, each flaw, each scar, each vulnerable moment.

There were certain aspects of their relationship she yearned for with Kirishima but couldn’t have. He wasn’t that deep. Their conversations felt empty and lonely most of the time. It’s not that he wasn’t smart, he just didn’t know what to say around her to spark her interest the way Shinsou made her shine.

She lied in her dorm that night, the lights turned off and only the faint glow of the moon shining through her window. She tried to shut her eyes and sleep, to forget all about these feelings in her dreams, but nothing would help her relax. Time and time again she tossed from one side to the other, checked her cell phone for messages only to see none, listened to the ticking of her clock on the wall. The sheets felt scratchy on her bare skin, and her pillow and mattress were suddenly uncomfortable beneath her weight.

Frustrated, she rolled out of bed and headed to the hall quietly, trying not to signal to the other dorms she was wandering. Maybe some water would do her some good, or some warm sleepytime tea to knock her out for the night. Sleep was something Y/N needed desperately.

As she turned the corner to enter the kitchen, she noticed a familiar mop of purple hair in the distance, attached to a lanky, heighty body she saw nearly everyday. He stood in an old school insignia t-shirt, leaning over the counter near the coffee maker.

He was a weird guy, drinking coffee this late into the night. He never did sleep much though, everyone knew that. The bags under his eyes were evidence.

“Shinsou?”

He lifted his eyes from the counter, turning to look at the girl standing midway down the hallway. He was tired, just waiting for his drink to brew before heading back to his dorm. He was tired, but never enough to ignore her.

For hours that night, he just laid there with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling before he got up to move around. No use just laying in bed all night. He felt nervous being alone at night with her. There was always this bit of paranoia that Mina or Mineta would go and fabricate some rumor that Y/N was cheating on Kirishima with him. They were friends, and everyone knew that, but it was a thought that crossed his mind from time to time.

Normally, she would just come to his dorm when she wanted to talk this late, which used to be most nights. That's always what she did, even if she had to sneak around after curfew. Since she started dating though, it would have been weird for her to be inside some other guy’s dorm that late. People would talk if they saw her entering or exiting, and it would start some drama.

It just wasn’t worth it. Even though he yearned to feel her presence in person, to see her smiling face and her bright, shining eyes, it just wasn’t possible. That’s why he felt so nervous being seen alone with her at 3 am, the way teenagers talk...He just wished some people could mind their own fucking buisness and let him be a friend. For fuck’s sake.

So, nearly every night before either of them could fall asleep, she called him and just talked mindlessly for hours until one of them fell asleep on the phone (usually her). That night she hadn’t called him yet, and it made him anxious. Why wasn’t she calling him? Did something happen? Was she with Kirishima? He prayed she wasn’t in that guy’s room at this hour, doing God knows what.

He had no right to be jealous. He should just appreciate that she still wanted to be his friend.

Regardless, he was just happy she still spoke to him. She could have ditched him for her new boyfriend, he knew that very well, but she hadn’t. He took her attention for granted growing up, always having a friend to confide in. Suddenly, when she accepted Kirishima’s confession at the end of their first year, he felt his entire world crumbling around him. He never realized how much he needed her until that moment.

Admittedly, that day, his entire heart shattered into a million pieces for multiple reasons. He loved her. He wasn’t brave enough to confess to her yet, and suddenly that other guy swooped in and stole her right from under his nose. It’s not like he has the right to control who she went out with though. Nor did he have the right to be upset about it. She wasn’t his to begin with.

He just needed to stop being so selfish. He hated how this girl made him feel. He felt selfish and lonely and desperate. He found himself blushing when she spoke to him in class in front of other people, sometimes even staring at her when he thought no one was looking. Thankfully no one except Denki had noticed this. He promised to keep it a secret though.

He just couldn’t understand how she could love Kirishima. He just didn’t seem like her type at all. He was too wild, loud, and sociable. She was the opposite, and their relationship didn’t seem compatible whatsoever. It frustrated him.

He looked around the hallway to make sure no one else was there before, leaning against the counter and peering down at her. Her eyes were dulled from what appeared to be stress, and this only confirmed his suspicions that something had happened.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You didn’t call me tonight; I was worried about you.”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her torso. She always did that when she was deep in thoughts or something was making her uncomfortable. He could only hope it wasn’t something serious. She bit her lip and looked at the wall, avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know, Hitoshi. I really don’t know what I’ve been feeling lately,” she whispered. “I’m just so confused.”

“About what?”

She felt tears bubble up in the corners of her eyes, and she had to choke down a sob. Quickly, she wiped away her tears in an attempt to hide them and be strong, but she just couldn’t. Her eyes became soaked quickly, and hot, salty tears ran down her cheeks without any sign of stopping.

“I don’t know if I love Kirishima anymore. I don’t know what’s going on with me and why I'm doubting my relationship like this,” she cried, trying to keep her voice down to avoid any eavesdropping. He peered down the hallway again to see no one and no lights on.

“Did something happen?”

She just shook her head again, pressing her hands to her eyes and letting out another sob. “No. He’s been so nice to me as usual. He always compliments me and takes me out on dates, but lately it just doesn’t feel the same,” she explained, “When he hugs me, I just want to push him away. And he’s always asking for kisses, and I can’t give them to him anymore. Just the thought of kissing him makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

“Oh.” How could he respond to that. It felt too personal, too intimate for him to be hearing. Guilt built up in his chest as she spoke more and more.

“It just feels so wrong, Eijirou touching me.”

He didn’t know what to say. They seemed to have a perfect relationship. He never doubted if they would stay together or not. it always seemed so obvious, so hopelessly obvious that she loved him. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t know what’s going on with me. I’m so confused all the time.”

“About what?”

“I-I…” Honestly, she was confused because recently she felt herself wanting Shinsou to hold her instead, to ask her for kisses and hold her hand, for him to be the only one to make her laugh and smile. She missed going to his room late at night and talking to him until the sun came up. She wanted him. And it made her feel so fucking shitty. How could she just abandon Eijirou because she was in love with someone else all along?

She couldn’t possibly tell Shinsou that. Not only would she lose her boyfriend, but also her best friend in the entire world. She couldn’t handle that type of loss.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself,” the boy assured her, placing a hand on her upper arm. She shook off his hand and instead reached out to hold his hand in hers. Immediately, he could feel the tremors running down her arm and through her hand. “Just take a deep breath. Calm down, this isn’t a crisis.”

“I don’t want to break his heart, Hitoshi. He’s treated me so good, and he’s such a nice guy. I feel so bad.”

“You’ll only make it worse for him if you stay with him and continue lying, saying you love him,” he sighed, thinking over the situation without bias. Sure, he wanted them to break up, but in reality, how could he do such thing to a friend like Kirishima? “But if you think you might fall in love with him again, I don’t know what you should do. Maybe talk to him about how-”

“I shouldn’t stay with him.”

“If that’s how you feel…” he trailed off. It seemed she was going to break up with him. He didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. On one hand, she wouldn’t need to split her attention between Kirishima and him. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she would go out with him. They were just friends this whole time, and it would be weird for him to ask her out right after she got out of a relationship.

She sucked up her tears, sobs turning to little sniffles and tears drying up on her cheeks. She still held his hand, squeezing every now and then. He knew he shouldn’t let her do this. He should have just stayed in bed. He felt scandalous standing here in the dark with her, holding her hand and telling her to break up with her boyfriend. He wasn’t a homewrecker by any means. Right now he sure felt like one.

Finally, when she was done crying, she took her hand away from his and wrapped it back around her waist. “Do you know what it feels like to be in love with someone?” she asked him so softly he almost didn’t hear her, and his train of thoughts diminished. She didn’t look him in the eyes once again, finding it too intimate to do so.

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened a bit, and suddenly, she felt her heart sink in her chest. She wasn’t the only one who had fallen in love with someone else it seemed. To be upset about that was wrong, that much was obvious. Was it right for her to be upset when she had dated this whole time and he was alone? She scolded herself, angry for even having such thoughts.

“Really? You’re in love with someone?”

“I’ve only ever been in love with one person almost my whole life, at least, I’m pretty sure it’s love,” he confessed, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. Her of all people did not need to know how he felt. He might end up letting it slip that the true object of his affections was her. This whole time, nearly three years of knowing each other, she was the one he longed for. “It used to make me feel so happy, but now it just makes me sick.”

“Why did you never tell me? We-we never used to keep secrets,” Y/N asked quietly, despite not having any right to question his privacy like that. She had more than enough secrets herself.

“Just wasn’t worth talking about.”

Silence for a moment, tense and frustrated silence besides the harsh post-cry breaths from her lips.

“Do they love you back?”

“My guess is no.”

“That sucks,” she breathed, letting out a breath of air she was holding. “Who is it?”

“You really don’t want to know, Y/N,” he told her. “You should be going to bed. It’s late and you have a lot of thinking to do.”

“O-okay. I guess you’re right. “ She took a few steps back, biting her lip. Her heart felt as if it beat loud and echoed in the hallway. Her head was spinning with thoughts and fears and a strange sense of hope. She cared for Hitoshi, more than she cared for anyone else. He was her best friend. The way he looked at her, she’d always wondered what it meant. He’d been in love for a while now. It all made her feel an awful kind of nauseous in the pits of her stomach.

She had one more question to ask.

“Is the person you love me?”

And suddenly time stopped. He felt his heart skip a beat, and stress build up in his chest. Why would she ask that? Put him in that sort of position? He couldn’t betray Kirishima like that. He would never be the bad guy. He clenched his fist by his side, and resisted the urge to tell her the truth, to confess everything he had ever felt, all the heartbreak and the jealousy and the long nights missing her.

Instead, he lied.

“No, it’s someone else. Now go to bed.” After he said those words, she didn’t even bother to say goodbye, she just walked away with her head hung low. She turned the corner to go to her dorm room and he stayed where he was. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and his nose, trying to calm himself down.

After a couple seconds, Denki walked out from the living room. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking to his friend who was obviously confused and upset. “Dude...”

“Kaminari, don’t say anything about it.”

“I swear, I won't,” he assured, raising his hands in front him innocently. “Listen, I-I don’t know how you’re feeling right now, Shinsou, but uh, if it means anything, I hope it gets better for you.”

The purple eyed boy looked down at his friend curiously. “What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me.”

Kaminari pushed his bands back over his head and sighed, “Trust me, we all saw how heartbroken you were when she started going out with Kirishima. It must suck to have to deny it over and over again.” His heart stung at the words, feeling so harsh and bitter in his ears. It had been a long time since he thought about the anger and frustration he felt toward the situation, how furious he was when he lost his chance, and how stupid he felt watching them together each day. To be so unloved. It felt so fucking pathetic.

“I don’t really give a shit either way,” he mumbled.

The blond rolled his eyes, feeling the negativity roll of his friend in waves. “Yeah, okay.”

“It’s really not important either way. What matters is that she’s happy, and no one fucking cheats on anyone. We’re all friends here, and I’ll make sure there are no mistakes on my end.”

There was silence for a moment, thoughts running through both their heads. They both knew how important this was to him, and the pain of his heartbreaking was almost palpable. He clenched his fist at his sides, trying not to lose his cool. He wasn’t going to let something like this ruin his life, even if it tried its hardest to. He still had her a friend, she still cared about him; why was he so upset? So what if they weren’t dating? He should just appreciate that.

“If she breaks up with Kirishima...what then?” Kaminari asked tentatively.

“Most likely, nothing.”

“You won’t tell her?”

“Hell no.”

“Why?”

“It’s better to have her happy with me as a friend than to tell her how I feel and ruin everything. I’m content with what we have, and my parents are proud of me for having a friend like her. I don’t want to imagine if we had a fall out and suddenly she’s not there anymore. I’d be so ashamed and alone again.”

“What if she confesses to you?”

“Then I’ll give her all the love I have.”

__________________________________________________

For days, Y/N had thought about the conversation she had to Shinsou the other night, where she confessed her falling out of love with her boyfriend. Her heart was confused, and it pained her to think that she would have to tell Kirishima soon. She found herself biting her nails more often and skipping meals out of stress. It was ridiculous to panic this much over something as trivial as a break up, but she was so afraid of breaking his heart.

Kirishima, since the beginning, was nothing but a sweetheart. He complimented her, and walked her to class, helped her with all her training, and made sure she was always content. He was tolerably affectionate while still being respectful. He made her smile, and that was a lot considering these past few years had brought anger and depression. He was so kind and sweet, and she hated doing this to him.

As she walked into the common room, she noticed it was practically vacant except for Uraraka and Tenya studying at the table and Kirishima munching on some chips by the television. He was peering down at his phone, scrolling through some photos. She bit her lip, peering behind her as if to escape the situation at hand.

Was it time? Had she waited long enough to think her decision over? Was she still in love with him or had her feeling completely gone away? She felt strongly that she didn’t want to be in a romantic relationship with him, yet the impending life change of being single without the redhead by her side was daunting. She was scared of leading him on, but at the same time, the loneliness almost made her stay.

After a long breath, she walked over to the couch and took a tentative seat beside him, maintaining a foot or so of distance between them which previously would have been filled, her squished to his side with his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, Y/N-chan,” he smiled, “Want some?” He held out his bag of snacks, only for her to shake her head.

“What’re you looking at?” she asked, peeking over at his phone screen. He held it up, showing some family insta photos. “Ah, okay.”

“Yeah, my cousin uploaded some holiday photos, and I’m just going through them,” he commented, showing her another photo of him and his aunt at the beach wading through the ocean water.

She opened her mouth to say something before shutting it, taking in the photo for another second. Kirishima looked great there, so full of life and free. Her heart clenched again, thinking about how, if she were to break up with him, she would miss those joyous smiles directed at her. She winced, avoiding eye contact, “You all look so happy.”

“Yeah, we were.” He nodded, shutting his phone off with a click. Carefully, it tucked the phone into his pocket and shifted in his spot to face her, one leg folding to rest on the couch while the other still hung off. “Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask- You’ve been off lately. Sad.”

“I-I didn’t think you noticed. I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled, finding her fingers in her lap very interesting all of the sudden. She felt his index finger tap gently on her shoulder, and her eyes slid up to meet his for a moment. He wasn’t upset. He held a soft smile on his face and his eyes hadn’t lost their shine. “I-I actually have something to tell you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She raised her head, her eyes a bit wider than before. “Oh, okay. You can go first then.” Maybe he would say something that could convince her to stay with him, she thought. Maybe what he had to say could turn this entire thing around and make her change her mind, forget all her doubts.

That was impossible, and she knew it.

“I think we should break up.”

She felt her heart stop beating in her chest.

What?

That was one of the only things she hadn’t imagined coming out of his mouth. He still smiled at her as she spoke, and she felt shocked and tense. How could he be so calm, saying something like that?

All she could muster out was a soft, “Why?”, too emotional to think of much else and speak it coherently.

“Because you’re not in love with me, and that’s okay,” he sighed, placing a hand on the shoulder, his hand running up and down her arm soothingly. She felt the kind, but curious eyes of Ochako lift to watch the interaction, and Y/N couldn’t blame her for wanting to eavesdrop. Y/N was terrified. Despite his gentle and calm nature, she worried she had done something wrong to make him hate her, wanting to break up.

She whispered, “B-But, Eijirou, I do love you.” but, God, was she confused. She didn’t love him, but she didn’t want to deny years of her life either. “I-I don’t know anymore, but-”

“It’s okay. I know you aren’t in love with me,” he told her, stopping her from rambling on any longer. “It’s always been about him, hasn’t it?”

“Him?”

“Shinsou, obviously. We all could see how he felt about you, but I thought maybe you just saw him as a friend and I was willing to fall in love with you,” he sighed. “But, I knew you missed him. I knew you had a special relationship with him that you and I could never have.”

“Eijirou, you don’t understand. I always loved you. Shinsou was my friend, and yeah, I missed our close relationship, but I enjoyed every second with you. I loved you so much.”

“I know. I’m not saying you didn’t. I’m just saying that maybe you can love two people at the same time, and one person will always be more important deep down” he suggested. “You never cheated on me, of course. You’re not the type of girl, and Shinsou definitely isn’t the kind of guy to steal someone’s girl.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” she cracked, placing her hand over her eyes to avoid his. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with him. I wanted to be with you forever. God, I loved you so much, Eijirou.” Tears had pooled in her eyes and she let them drip down silently, soaking them up with the sleeve of her sweater. “I realized a couple months ago how I felt about him but I tried not to acknowledge it. I thought it was gone, but it’s not, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

He reached over, wrapped his hand around her, moving her hand from her face. “It’s okay. Sure, I’m gonna miss you a lot, but it’s okay.”

“I don’t get it. Why aren’t you upset with me? I betrayed you,” she asked, staring into his eyes. He only eased further, his brows softening, fingers squeezing around her tighter.

“I can’t even be mad. That guy, he loves you more than anything. He has since before I met you. You are his entire world, and I’d be damned to take that away from him.”

She stopped him, her brows furrowing. “Shinsou doesn’t like me like that. He told me himself.” She felt her becoming more confused than before. How could Kirishima be so sure about Shinsou’s feelings for her when they weren’t true? She did love Shinsou, that was the truth, but she didn’t have a chance with him.

“Are you kidding?”

Shaking her head, she assured him, “No. He told me he was in love with someone and it wasn’t me.”

“You should talk to him again. Like, go now. Find him.”

She shook her head, but he was already pulling her by the arm from the couch. “Baby, Y/N, I care about you, and I’m making you find Shinsou and be happy, and you better not fuck it up,” he explained, pushing her forward a bit so she stumbled away from the couch and toward the hall. She turned to look over her shoulder, the redhead smiling and waving for her to move forward with the task at hand.

Ochako caught her eye, who was looking at her beside a bored Tenya. She sent over the shyest of smiles and nodded encouragingly. Y/N felt embarrassed, realizing that the entire class knew about their supposed connection before she did, and even now he had a hard time accepting it. Shinsou Hitoshi was not in love with her. It was impossible. He never mentioned it or let off that he cared for her anything other than a childhood friend.

She pulled out her phone from her pocket, and searched for his contact. The dial rang in her ear, and she was tempted to hang up before he could answer, run to her room, and pretend nothing even happened. She feared so much change, and it seemed so much easier and safer to hide under her covers and sleep until everything went back to normal.

“Hello?”

“Hitoshi, where are you?” she asked, her voice just barely quivering.

“Uh, I’m outside on the lawn with Midoriya and Todor-”

She hung up the phone before he could say anything else. She rushed down the hallway, an urgency to each step she took, steps closer to the purple haired boy she cared so much for, her best friend. She was so scared, she could feel her teeth clicking and goosebumps bubbling up on her arms, the hairs standing on end into her long sleeves. The sun shining through the door was all too bright for such a situation, and she had to squint as she left the building out the backdoor.

Indeed, across the lawn were the 3 boys, sitting together on the ground with empty bottles of water lying amongst them. Todoroki stood with a wet towel slung over his shoulder, sweat soaking through his tank top. Meanwhile, Midoriya sat with his notebook in front of him scribbling down quick notes no doubt things he’d taken note of during training moments before.

She felt exposed in front of the other boys, but honestly what other eyes could she care about than the violet ones drawn right on her scrambling figure.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked as she approached. She came to sudden halt right at his feet, her arms crossed over each other to hug her torso tightly, trying to quell down the ripples of anxiety coursing through her. Now, as she stood in front of him, she felt excitement building up in her stomach, butterflies (as cliche as it sounds) tossing and turning.

“Hitoshi, you lied to me, and-and you need to tell me the truth.”

“Lied? About what, Shinsou?” Midoriya asked, peeking up from his book for a moment to get in on the action.

Shinsou shook his head, not quite sure what she was talking about. He noticed the dried stains of tears on her cheeks, and the way her body was tucked inward, practically hiding from him. He racked his mind for answers, but he couldn’t think of that she could possibly be talking about.

As she stared down at him, she felt power surge through her, courage to confront him. The words tumbled from her mouth before she could even think about censoring herself. It didn’t cross her mind that their friends were gathered around. The only thing she could think about was him. “You’re in love with me. You’ve always been in love with me, haven’t you?”

“Y/N, what-”

“Just tell me,” she said, “Kirishima just fucking broke up with me because of you.”

He stood from his spot on the ground, and suddenly he towered over her. Yet, she wasn’t intimidated. She just stared up at him as his face morphed into one of horror and shock. “Listen, Y/N, I had nothing to do with Kirishima breaking up with you. Don’t go blaming me-”

“He broke up with me because I’m in love with you. I love you, Hitoshi, Jesus, I really do.” It was completely silent. Midoriya sat there on the ground in shock, his mouth fallen open and his eyes widely staring at her. Shinsou only stood there, the words she had just spoken rolling through his mind over and over again. “I should have told you the other night when we talked, but everything you said changed my mind.”

When Kaminari suggested that she might confess to him, he completely brushed it off. There was no way she could feel the same way about him. They were friends. She dated people this whole time without ever showing any signs of wanting anything more than friendship. But somehow, everyone knew but him.

“I-I thought I loved Eijirou, but it was always you. I feel so stupid not realizing all this time.”

He finally spoke, voice quiet, hesitant, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, you really wasted 3 years of my life, didn’t you?” he asked. Her eyes widened, and she looked to him with surprise written all over her face. Was he angry, she worried, hugging herself tighter just in case. Before she could make a move, he had brought his hands up, one resting on her cheek while the other pressed to the back of her head, pinky finger skimming her neck and sending shivers down her spine.

He leant down and pressed his warm lips to hers. Her entire body stiffened at the sudden and unexpected touch, but just as quickly as it came, he had relaxed into his grasp. For a moment, she kissed him back, lips moving ever so gently across his own, the smell of minty gum filling her senses.

As he pulled away, she relished in the taste of his tongue on her lips, running her own along her bottom lip.

“I-I see,” she stuttered, not daring to make eye contact now after that. How embarrassing.

“Yes, I lied,” he confessed, “I have loved you for so long, Y/N. God, I wish you would have realized sooner how you felt.”

She nodded, peering up into his eyes shyly. His shone so brightly with happiness and pride, and she felt her heart swell up in her chest. “I really missed you, Shinsou.”

“I missed you, too.”

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero #x reader #x y/n #reader insert #im sorry i use passive voice im such a dumb piece of shit

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hopevalley · 4 years ago

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Season 8, Episode 9: Pre-Wedding Jitters

Y’all know what’s wild? The season is coming to a close! I feel like we just got started with Season 8, and it’s already nearly over. I’m not ready for things to end...except the love triangle. Lol.

One important thing I want to talk about, before we move on to my regularly scheduled episode write-up, of course, is the quality of the writing and filming this season. I really feel like the team took a step back and thought very carefully about how to improve the show, and then they went through the effort of actively trying to improve things.

Are there still badly-written areas of the show? Absolutely. Are there things I loathe seeing? Yes. Are there plotlines that are extremely contrived even by Hallmark standards? Unfortunately there are.

But I don’t think anyone can deny that the writing this season is, overall, an improvement over Seasons 5, 6, and 7. The only thing that I feel about S8 that is worse than 5/6/7 is the love triangle, but it had to come to a head eventually so it was always going to be a point of contention among the fans.

I’ve seen a ton of negativity going around the Internet, and you are all entitled to your opinions, but let’s hold back from being too angry until we see how things will work out. After all, there is a chance, however small, that Hallmark will end up surprising us.

So here’s to hoping that the writing quality uptick will continue as we move into Season 9.

And now, our plotlines from this episode:

The Dilapidated Love Triangle

The Wedding Planning/Party

The New & Improved Henry Gowen

Miscellaneous (Car Investigation, pastor position/Jesse and Clara + Cafe, Carson and Faith, Mike and Fiona)

This was another episode that felt pretty smooth in its storytelling; it had some smaller plots going on, but two primarily large plots, a smaller one that revolved around Henry, and then a few small (connected) plots from previous episodes/that overarched the whole season!

Sorry for the muddle by the way, it took me hours to type this and I’m too tired to read it over thoroughly before posting. If you see any glaring issues please let me know so I can fix them, though!

The Dilapidated Love Triangle

Let’s just get the pig slop out of the way, shall we? I think we are all in some sort of agreement by now that we’re tired of the triangle and just want to see it resolved as soon as possible so that we can get on with our lives and invest our interests in the right place(s).

I also believe most of us are also in some kind of agreement, however we feel about the characters, the triangle, and who Elizabeth’s choice should be, that this thing has been very poorly paced. This sentiment seems to be echoed across the Internet right now. The pacing is AWFUL. After two years of almost nothing happening, now we’re going to bullrush to the end of the triangle? That’s a yikes from me, Chief. (Wait, didn’t I say that last week, too?)

I was never a fan of the narrated beginnings of episodes. I think they’re really tacky and boring. That said, there’s no other way to get into Elizaeth’s head easily because...I don’t know. Either Erin isn’t that skilled or the director doesn’t know how to direct her, or the script sucks. They struggle SO MUCH with show-don’t-tell that they have to resort to telling...which is fine, sometimes. This is an instance where telling is just mega redundant since she says the same exact thing probably 10 more times in the episode. I wish they’d have just kept the first part of the reflection or focused more on that—how Nathan talking about it...makes it feel fresh and raw again in a way she didn’t expect.

Anyway, Elizabeth writing that she’s been “left to reflect, once more, on the senseless accident that took [Jack’s] life” is ridiculous. Senseless? He was in charge of the training mission, but unless I’m losing every last marble I’ve ever had, wasn’t it Jack’s choice to go after the younger recruits who had been separated? Wasn’t it thanks to Jack’s quick thinking and intervention that only one person lost his life that day (Jack himself)?

This is where the whole “Jack died heroically” thing kind of matters, actually. Especially when you butt it up against Nathan being the original person intended to go. Would he have risked his life like that? We’ll never know, but I’m sure Nathan thinks about it a lot, and it’s not something that should be left out of this story.

It’s valid for Elizabeth to wonder why Nathan kept the Secret hidden from her for almost three years, but what is really troublesome is the weird shift she seems to have between Casual Curiosity and Stricken Grief about it.

I grew tired of mopey Elizabeth in S4 and 5, so I’m not happy to see her back. Fewer eye drops, please. -_-

Anyway, it almost felt like a breakthrough when Elizabeth asked Rosemary why she thought Nathan took so long to tell her about Fort Clay, but Rosemary’s response was so bad. “He didn’t think it was important enough.” WHAT? WHO WOULD SAY THAT? Rosemary can be a bit thick-headed but that was almost too contrived for me to willingly follow. Anyone with a brain would realize it was IMPORTANT and THAT WAS WHY IT WAS A SECRET.

And when Elizabeth’s like, “Not important enough?” BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY IT IS IMPORTANT... Rosemary just tells her that Jack’s death wasn’t Nathan’s fault.

Which. She’s right. But that doesn’t make the secret unimportant. It’s still kind of a big deal. He’s confessed to being in love with Elizabeth multiple times now. Even Rosemary can’t be so dumb that she doesn’t realize that the connection between Jack’s death and Nathan is...meaningful, especially to Elizabeth. And that Nathan knew this and couldn’t bring himself to tell her because he knew it would hurt her.

Anyway, I’m doing my best to give Elizabeth a bit of grace here, because she’s just so self-centered I almost can’t stand it. To be clear, Elizabeth has ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS. It’s just that usually the issues at hand aren’t about her, they’re about someone else.

Rosemary’s right but what she said was straight-up stupid. I don’t know, I don’t think the characters are out of character so much as the dialogue just didn’t flow very naturally and I felt like the characters were making assumption jumps to force certain responses. If Elizabeth can’t agree with Rosemary that Jack’s death isn’t Nathan’s fault, then she should have expressed that a bit more directly so that Rosemary could draw the conclusion that Elizabeth does feel it’s Nathan’s fault. It came across like Rosemary was speaking to the audience more than to Elizabeth, and I didn’t like it.

The most delightful scene in the entire episode has to go to Allie and Lucas. That was so cute and wholesome and good. Her asking if she could sit at the bar, him offering her a treat, her trying to return the gift ‘cause she felt caught in the middle and like it wasn’t fair to accept it... SO GOOD. They remembered the gift multiple episodes later AND incorporated it into this episode flawlessly. LOVED IT.

Also, she asked an important question. LUCAS...where DO YOU LIVE?!

His story was a bit silly but I actually enjoyed it. It gives him a more playful vibe and also I think was almost entirely to ensure that Allie felt more comfortable and less anxious about what was happening around her. It was also his way of reassuring her that him courting Elizabeth wasn’t going to take Elizabeth out of Allie’s life...and that things will be okay.

I enjoyed it.

Things were a bit awkward with Elizabeth and Allie but they felt...better than before, so I felt like the conversation helped.

Lucas calling Allie “Allie Grant” was nice now that her adoption is official! I appreciate that.

Elizabeth and Lucas talk about how Lucas told Allie he’ll “work things out” with Nathan and Elizabeth definitely doesn’t appreciate it, and with somewhat good reason: she doesn’t like being caught in the middle of things any more than Allie does.

The thing is...she has had the power...all this time...to tell Nathan straight-up to leave her alone/that she isn’t interested. I stand by what I said before, that she shouldn’t have to tell him no for him to respect the boundaries she’s set, but if he’s not respecting those boundaries she needs to be firm about it.

I like how Lucas comes off in this scene. He wants to understand, he listens, he’s patient, he doesn’t push. I’m here for it.

She tells him what Nathan told her and he seems a bit overwhelmed by it, too. It’s pretty clear that he realizes she must be feeling all kinds of things after finding that out, especially after all this time.

Again, for the second time, Elizabeth doesn’t seem all that grief-stricken about the secret being kept from her for so long: she tells Lucas she just doesn’t understand how he could keep it from her.

He asks permission to suss out an answer and Elizabeth politely declines and says she’ll ask herself, but to please forgive her, she needs some time to...think.

She watches Lucas go and then...touches her wedding band.

Nathan meets Rosemary in the library and goes on a long boring monologue about how he’s read like, three whole books that women wrote, but still doesn’t understand women. No shit, sherlock. That was terrible writing...just straight up bad writing.

But I’m not exactly surprised because the very next thing that happens is that Rosemary tells Nathan...she’s been in his eXACT position before!

No...you have not. Yes, you were the unwanted third wheel, but that’s where the similarities ended, and you should have clarified. This just didn’t hit well for me, I don’t know. I don’t want to say it’s out of character, but...I don’t think Rosemary is this soft gentle personality anyway. I feel like she was always a bit more in your face with the things she said, not “try to encourage a manner of action in a very roundabout way” like she is in this episode. But again, without a logic jump from Rosemary, this scene doesn’t quite work.

I think I might have preferred Rosemary to play dumb and ask what specifically he didn’t understand about women. Make him freakin’ say it. And then she could react better.

We get Love Confession #3 or whatever we’re on with Nathan, now. Let’s go over the entire scene.

Elizabeth walks into Nathan’s office and instantly asks him why it took him so long to tell her what happened.

He says he felt guilty and when she tells him she doesn’t understand, he goes on to say that after the accident he requested a transfer to Hope Valley. He never met Jack but he knew he’d left behind a wife and child, and felt it was his responsibility to look after them and protect them.

She asks why he would assume that, and he explains that he felt it was his duty. And that when he found himself falling in love with her, he felt like he was betraying Jack and his memory. That’s why he didn’t tell her.

He then takes it ONE STEP TOO FAR and says, “I fell in love with you, and I think that love is always worth fighting for.”

Elizabeth says “Excuse me,” and leaves. Nathan’s face afterward is maybe a decent mix of “I probably shouldn’t have said that” and regret, but...woof.

Anyway, I was fine with this up to the point where Nathan said, completely unprompted, that love is always worth fighting for. How does he know? What are his experiences with love? Books he read, written by men??? PLEASE.

READ PRIDE & PREJUDICE U SWINE... ELIZABETH FALLS IN LOVE WITH MR. DARCY BECAUSE HE DECIDES HE WANTS TO CHANGE AND BE A BETTER MAN AND THEN DOES SOOOOOOOOO oh wait this is turning into an Elizabeth/Henry argument...OOPS?

Anyway, yeah. Not a fan of that line. It almost feels like there’s something missing. She’s standing in front of him about to cry because she feels hurt that he didn’t tell her this, you know, crucial information, and he’s just like “Yeah I didn’t tell u cause I love you and felt like i was betraying jack’s memory and also lol love is worth fighting for babe!” What kind of confusing mess of babble is this?

Honestly, it just left a bad taste in my mouth. :( I have so many really obnoxious opinions about Nathan and what they’ve done with him this season, but I feel like I should save them for a season summary podcast or something, just in case Hallmark ends up surprising me. Right now I just feel like they really just wanted to give him what the fans hated about him (he wasn’t passionate enough, not manly enough, not forward enough with his emotions, at least from what I read on Reddit and Instagram last year), but in like THE WORST POSSIBLE WAYS and for the wORST POSSIBLE REASONS in the VERY WORST SCENARIO.

I feared that would be Nathan’s reason for coming to town from the moment the character was announced and...I wanted to be wrong.

Anyway, I really liked his self-awareness up to that point. He never met Jack, which keeps some of the weirdness at bay. Also, he felt like he needed to make sure Jack’s family was okay, and that’s fine. I wouldn’t call it noble (as Rosemary later does), but it’s not exactly bad, either. Then we got the line of him admitting that it felt kind of bad to fall in love with her. I wish he’d gone on to say that wasn’t supposed to happen, or even given her a reason he loves her (so that it doesn’t feel like we’re just being told everything), because his line about love being worth fighting for right after he says he felt like he was betraying Jack’s memory by loving her...was...really strange??? Maybe a few sentences were edited out?

Elizabeth tries to refuse to play Fiona’s blindfold game and LITERALLY NO ONE SAVES HER (though I think Rosemary considered trying). I hate the idea of this game solely based on the fact that several people participating shouldn’t even be there (Nathan, Bill, Mike, Fiona, Molly), but Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to accidentally choose Nathan if he wasn’t there, so... -_-

I think I might have actually liked this (her “no” with Carson was super cute actually, probably the cutest laugh she’s ever had on this show) if she’d had the chance to reject a few more guys on the way down the line. If she was closer to the end of the line she’d feel her options were running out and might second-guess herself. Having Nathan be the second person she touches and having her choose is...eh.

Nitpicks aside (their hands wouldn’t feel the same and she held Lucas’s hand quite recently actually), it could have been worse. At least she stated who she was searching for...

BUT UGH THE EMBARRASSMENT.

The thing that gets me about the whole scene is 100% that everyone in town would know about the Triangle drama, so it feels...weird to see everyone so gung-ho to watch this happen... I don’t know... I like having fun too, but NOBODY even TRIED to step in???

At least Lucas found some humor in it right away (he smiles).

I think I wish someone had said something. Maybe Nathan could have said, “Nope, sorry” to lighten the mood a bit? Or Lucas could have said, “Almost!” since he was standing right next to Nathan?

Anyway, we’re spared having to wait because the very next scene is Lucas checking on Elizabeth and laughing about her choice.

One line I wish they’d added in is that someone else got it wrong. Imagine if Lucas said, “At least you didn’t pick Bill like Clara did!” Or even just made a joke about it in general like: “Of course I’m not upset. But if you would have picked Bill I might be a little hurt. My hands aren’t that old yet.”

Elizabeth tells him that she spoke to Nathan about the whole...thing and it was awkward. She chooses to not tell Lucas the rest of the reason Nathan gave, but instead only admits that he told her he loves her again. When Lucas asks what she said in response she said she didn’t say anything.

Lucas seems...a trifle upset at this, and understandably so. I think he can sense she’s...not really a sure thing and is worried about it. :( I feel so bad for him right now.

Rosemary stops by to see Elizabeth after Lucas leaves, and tells her she ran into Nathan at the library yesterday. Elizabeth tells her what Nathan said in his office and Rosemary says it was noble and selfless of him.

(I mean...it wasn’t selfless. Like at all.)

Elizabeth says she never asked him to be noble. She didn’t ask him to fall in love with her, either.

She asks Rosemary if she encouraged Nathan’s feelings for her at the library. Rosemary says no, but Elizabeth asks again and she interrupts her to ask Elizabeth if she’d rather hear what she actually said or just assume.

Rosemary goes on to say that she just wants what’s best for Elizabeth.

And we get Elizabeth asking how anyone would know what was best for her.

I mean, that’s like 90% on you for not communicating with your friends, but also, it’s 100% on you for just assuming you knew what Rosemary said to Nathan. I think she’s just looking for a reason why Nathan is being so persistent and in her mind encouragement from someone else is the only thing that makes sense, ‘cause she sure as heck hasn’t been encouraging him herself!

This hurts Rosemary’s feelings, probably because she was about to say that she wants what’s best for Elizabeth so she asked Nathan to stop getting in the way lol, and says maybe she should leave (since Elizabeth is in a bad mood). Elizabeth agrees she should go.

End episode. On this note. Woof.

Overall it wasn’t too bad I guess? But I’m not a fan of how some of this was written. It really felt like they cut lines out to make the episode shorter, when...they could have cut out one of the boring side plots. You know. The entire thing with Jesse and Clara, for example.

The Wedding Planning/Party

I admit that I got a little enjoyment out of Florence saying no to all the dresses. Highly relatable.

Then, at the barbershop, Fiona says the exact wORST possible thing about Florence wanting a hairstyle that’ll “knock Ned dead” FLHDSFAJDSA.

Florence goes on to say she wants anything but “ordinary Florence” and Molly steps in.

Honestly, I wish they’d just let Molly stick to being Florence’s BFF because that’s the role she plays best. Also, I’m almost sad Florence and Ned got together because it means #teamflomo is no mo’. :(

Paul shows up...

I don’t know what I expected but this boy would have been a literal BABY in season one, which makes the whole thing with Florence almost sadder AND it gives Florence more in common with Elizabeth (widow with a young child) BUT I HAVE OPINIONS.

I know what you’re thinking. “Manna, you always have opinions!” Yes, you’d be right.

They based this off of ONE (1) line of dialogue that Florence had in S1 when something was stolen from her house. She says, “while my child slept nearby” or something like that.

They brought a child in...for that? On one hand...I’m impressed.

On the other hand, I kind of had just assumed they’d retconned that and that Florence had no children (which is why she was always goofing off gossiping with Molly) so I don’t really know how to feel about the whole thing.

Rosaleen starred in an episode and never showed up again after S1, so I think I’d have preferred to see her return instead of a child we literally never laid eyes on. But he’s a cutie. And he’s named after his father just like little Jack so...I’ll take it!

The party begins and we have to do “the men are stupid and don’t know how to plan” again which is really annoying. The highlight of this entire thing was Ned saying (about his hairline) that he’s been driving with the top down since his 30s. I respect you AND ONLY YOU, Ned.

The party continues on and they play charades. Rosemary chose weird awful options that don’t make any sense and are hard to act out. Ned’s could have been funny but the one Bill got is just...so weird.

The funniest part about it is looking at everyone staring at Molly as she guesses it.

I think it was supposed to be...cute? Or something? It was just really weird for me.

“Cuddle up a little Closer, Lovey Mine” (yes, it’s “lovey” not “lovely”) was written and recorded in 1908. You can listen to it here. Lyrics here.

They then play the Most Awkward Game Ever, one that would have had me sweating bullets if I’d had to play it. Florence has to find her man by only holding the hands of the other men.

As Fiona says, it’s a bit...risqué, but Florence rejects Jesse quickly and finds out the second man is Bill by squeezing his hands too hard.

Bill explains that his arthritis is flaring up and of course Sara and I jumped on that almost at the same moment:

We like Bill. :P

And then Florence correctly guesses that the next man is Ned. It’s very wholesome and sweet.

But then it’s Elizabeth’s turn because I guess she’s not been traumatized enough this episode. I covered that in the triangle part of the plot, though.

The New & Improved Henry Gowen

We start off with a BANG here with Henry and Christopher. Christopher misses Rachel because he’s a twitterpated little FOOL and he tells Henry all about it...while Henry sees Bill tearing apart the stolen car in the distance.

He asks Christopher how he got to Hope Valley from Hamilton and Christopher just straight up comes clean about it: he drove a stolen car that his buddy stole.

Henry scolds him a bit, tells him he can’t borrow a stolen car, and explains that he doesn’t want Christopher to end up like him. Christopher seems kind of surprised by this and says, “You turned out good.”

To which Henry replies, “The jury’s still out on that.”

Christopher says he’s done with that kind of thing, and Henry tells him he believes him.

Honestly, Henry’s “I believe you” got to me. It sounded SO genuine. And also, can I say YET AGAIN that this kid was an impeccable choice to play Henry’s son? WOW. I can’t get over how much alike they are even in mannerisms and looks.

But THEN when Henry tries to say Rachel has something to do with Christopher being done with that old lifestyle, Christopher tells him “And you” AND I ALMOST LOST IT. SOOOOO GOOD. Henry goes on to explain that “long after” he divorced Christopher’s mom, he met Abigail, who saw the potential for goodness in him. And that he can’t help Christopher be a better man because he’s still figuring that out for himself, but if he thinks Rachel can help him, he should do what he can to not lose her.

Later, Henry invites Christopher to Ned’s party and Christopher declines but asks what happened to the woman Henry mentioned earlier—Abigail, of course. Henry says she left town to help her mother.

Is this a...hint of things to come? I’m...not sure.

Henry sits down for two seconds before Lucas asks to speak with him outside. Once there, Lucas admits that he contacted Christopher. This is one of the most contrived plotlines we’ve had in a bit, if only because I just can’t figure out how Lucas would have known who Christopher was, let alone whether or not he would be useful? He doesn’t even have the same last name... I mean, what, did Henry write in sparkly gel pens or something?

But for some reason he contacted Christopher to come work for Henry to keep an eye on him. He’s not proud of having done it, which makes sense. I guess I wouldn’t be either.

Henry’s upset about it. Lucas tells Henry that he took advantage of him and that he had to make sure Henry could be trusted.

Christopher doesn’t know that Lucas told him, though, and Henry asks that Lucas keep it that way.

It makes Christopher’s behavior with Lucas make more sense (when he kept trying to push him around earlier this season), but the timing is just...awful? Maybe talking to Elizabeth about Nathan’s secret made him feel guilty about his own? I’d buy into it more if I felt like there was a really compelling reason for Lucas to feel that Christopher would do any good...but it’s just too contrived for me.

Christopher randomly decides to go to Bellingham to see Rachel. Henry tells him not to make trouble if her parents ask him to leave. Henry makes to leave, and Christopher stops him.

I CANNOT SING THE PRAISES OF THIS SCENE ENOUGH. Christopher tries to tell Henry about the thing with Lucas and Henry’s like...you’re different now, you’re starting over it doesn’t matter anymore!!!! Everyone deserves a second chance!

AND THEY HUG AND CHRISTOPHER TELLS HENRY HE LOVES HIM.

They almost got me to cry. ALMOST. I refuse to cry at this show because I refuse to give Brian Bird the satisfaction, but boy oh boy was this close.

Henry responds with a “me too” and makes Christopher promise to write. Then the stage leaves and that is that.

The rest of the storyline for Henry is under the car investigation. They’re related but...only intertwine at the very end so I separated them. ;)

Miscellaneous (Car Investigation, Pastor Position/Jesse and Clara, Carson and Faith, Mike and Fiona)

Car investigation: Nathan starts this episode off on the wrong foot. I think that was...a mistake. THAT SAID...I’m relieved Bill isn’t being written as a complaining whiny pile of trash for once, so I just want to say that...they had to realize after last episode the fan opinion of Nathan would be...not great, so mayyybe they shouldn’t have started this episode off with him literally complaining about doing his job...while he’s in uniform no less. Also he has NO PASSION at all for his job, or for investigating, which I hope means he’ll end up quitting the Mounties. (It could be a hint of things to come...I hope.)

I mean, does he think Bill got his position for...no reason? Also, thank God Nathan turned down the promotion to Inspector if that was how he was gonna treat actually doing the work?? I’m pretty sure this is their idea of “humor” but boy did it fall flat after the love triangle mess that’s been going on.

The owner talks to Nathan on the phone later and is coming from Hamilton to get his car. Nathan seems to be telling Bill this to discourage him from wasting his time investigating, but Bill doesn’t want to stop lol.

Ned’s comment from the party about his hairline being him “driving with the top down” gives Bill an Idea in the middle of the bachelor party and leaves. Ned looks shook that he produced An Idea.

And follows. Ned is absolutely adorable as he assists Bill. They should interact more?? Long story short, Bill figures out that the top was probably up when it was being transported to Hope Valley (as you wouldn’t want people getting a good look at your face if they’re looking for a stolen car), and finds a footprint in the removable top.

The next day, Bill approaches Henry up at the oil derricks and comments on the fact that Lucas told him that Christopher checked out of his room at the saloon. Henry is up front and honest about where Christopher went, and says he went to Bellingham to see Rachel Thom.

He says, “You know how it is. You love someone, you’d do anything for them.”

The one interesting thing about this comment is that...no, Bill does NOT know. He’s never admitted to being in love in his life. He married Nora, but that was out of obligation (something he makes clear several times). Like, he obviously cared about Nora, but he wasn’t in love with her.

Obviously he’s loved someone enough to do anything for them (his son), but considering he’s dead, and possibly died in a really traumatizing way considering how it’s portrayed, that seems a bit...insensitive. :P

Bill counters it with, “Almost anything, maybe.”

He then goes on to tell Henry he found a footprint in the stolen car.

And he just. Kind of. Gives Henry. A look. Because he knows exactly who stole the car, he just has to prove it.

Henry stops Bill and says: “A while back I remarked about how you had never solved the mine disaster. Perhaps if you and I get together, I might be able to help.”

Bill doesn’t say a THING...he just leaves. But he looks kind of...put off by the whole thing.

Like he knows what Henry is doing.

Do you know what Henry is doing?

Anything.

For someone he loves.

(Pst. That someone is Christopher.)

As soon as Bill is gone, he picks up a pair of shoes and throws them into the fire.

I think it’s pretty clear that Henry is using this mine disaster thing to protect Christopher, and he’s doing it for this reason WAY MORE than he’s doing it to come clean and be a better man. That’s just my theory, though. I think if Bill hadn’t found anything out about the car, then Henry wouldn’t have brought it up.

But I guess he knows something. The question is...what? And also, when did he mention Bill never having solved the mine disaster? I’m really struggling to remember Henry ever saying that to him, at least not recently. Does anyone recall offhand?

Anyway, I’m wondering if they’ll tie up that whole thing about Noah and Peter that was never addressed on the show to the fullest. You know, the whole thing with them going into the mine knowing it wasn’t safe and not warning anyone. I think a lot of people who watch this show have never been in poverty or lived paycheck to paycheck, but sometimes a person just has to put their head down and keep working even when it’s not safe, because they have to keep living. Or because they had more time to put a stop to things before anything bad happened.

I think blaming Noah and Peter as much as Henry is pretty stupid, but they still shoulder some blame. They were working to fix that problem. Henry wasn’t. He did what he was told and shut up. But maybe there’s a bit more to that story. Could be interesting.

Could also be the worst reveal ever, so...who knows? I’m curious to find out.

BUT ALSO what do they mean Bill didn’t solve that case? The widows sued and won. Sure, he got beat up in S1 carrying evidence out of the mine, but it’s not as if there wasn’t a lot more of it inside the mine, too. Everyone knows the fault of the collapse was due to working conditions being unsafe. What’s left to solve? Is Henry going to give Bill the names of the people who told Henry to keep his mouth shut?

Or...are they talking NOT ABOUT THE HOPE VALLEY MINE DISASTER, but the original one that sent Henry to Coal Valley (and Nora into a marriage with Bill)? Because that one was not solved. The company just made Henry a scapegoat in that case.

THE WAIT TO FIND OUT MORE IS GOING TO BE TORTURE.

Pastor Position/Jesse and Clara + Cafe: I enjoyed Minnie in this episode and seeing her step in and help Clara and become part of the town was great. Jesse giving more credit to Joseph than Lee was pretty funny, and a nice set-up for Lee realizing that Joseph is a pastor. Lee is apparently head of the search committee to find a new pastor...which...sure...okay. Also apparently the newspaper died?? Uh.

I’m kind of hoping Rosemary’s new passion will be the newspaper since she’s supposedly going to dig her nose into things next episode and she used to write a column for the old paper (so she has some experience). Thoughts on that?

Anyway, Joseph agrees to pastor the church instantly the second Lee asks...so it feels weird that his original goal/plans/whatever just...don’t matter anymore? Okay.

They buy a bell.................WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY BIGGEST PETTY COMPLAINT OF THE EPISODE. BRO THAT BELL STRAIGHT UP LOOKS 3D PRINTED FJLKDSAHFLDSAHFLDSAHFKLDSA

Anyway I’m teasing. The Liberty Bell weighs a little over one ton, and two horses could easily pull that.

No complaints. My husband complained last week that there wasn’t a bell and now there is. It’s like he knew.

Joseph talks about what a “calling” feels like (I think this will come back again with Rosemary which has me VERY HAPPY): a tug on his heart.

Joseph also tells Lee that the men in his yard earlier were surveyors and that he won’t move, at least not far, because he has a congregation to lead, now. Makes me wonder if he’ll actually sell!

Anyway, Jesse and Mike are cute pals and decide to have a snack in the cafe while the gals are socializing with Rosemary (who has just returned from the library).

Rosemary’s books are on land acquisitions, surveying, and territorial law.

Minnie and Rosemary decide to talk about this while Clara leaves. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe just ‘cause it was boring lol.

She gets back as Mike and Jesse are talking about, uh, her, actually, and Mike asks if all is quiet on the homefront.

Yes, it is. Unlike the trenches of WWI.

But seriously I thought it could be a joke reference to “All Quiet on the Western Front”...a WWI novel. Since...you know...WWI is going on and hasn’t been acknowledged at all even though it’s almost over now.

Joke’s on me, though...that’s too advanced for Hallmark.

Anyway it’s only quiet for like two seconds, because Clara busts in, thinks they’re eating the food she’s been busting her ass over for the party, and yells at Jesse. It makes everything awkward. Jesse simpers about like a sad little clown instead of trying to be understanding. Yawn. Awful. Bye.

I don’t know what would fix that scene, but I think part of the problem is...I’m just not invested in Clara and Jesse anymore. It’s perfectly reasonable to expect them to need more time to get over the problems in their relationship but I don’t care about them enough to care about the journey...if that makes sense. I’d rather watch Bill dust for prints on the car some more.

They do have a chat, and work things out, so that’s good I guess.

Carson and Faith: Carson has officially stolen the dock from Abigail and Frank, and so my hatred for them doubled instantly.

Me, a territorial loon: THAT SPOT IS NOT YOURS!!!!! FIND YOUR OWN!!!

Anyway Carson makes things awkward and then busts out that he accepted the fellowship without talking to Faith.

She’s kind of hurt by this?? UNDERSTANDABLY?? But then he asks if it would have made a difference. I mean, common courtesy would be at least sitting down like this and telling her, “I’ve decided to accept it.” But no. He just. Accepted it without telling her he was going to. Bro...

They aren’t on the same page for even two seconds. He tells her he was committed to the relationship and put all his plans aside so that she could be happy.

Honestly, as much hate as Nathan’s getting right now, if people gave a damn about Faith I think Carson would be getting his fair share of hate, too. What a jerk???

He goes on to say it wasn’t a waste of his time (when she asks), but never bothers to tell her more or to prove he didn’t feel that way (BECAUSE HE SURE ACTS LIKE IT WAS A WASTE OF HIS TIME). He just says he hopes she changes her mind and comes with him to Baltimore.

At the party Carson and Faith go outside to talk where Carson admits that he should have told her he was accepting the fellowship before he wrote. She tells him that the year she was gone was almost too much time apart for her, and Carson promises to write her and tells her she can visit him, too, but she brings the conversation back to reality. They’ll both be super busy.

He suggests they get married, and then immediately says he’s not asking (it’s not how he’d propose), but that they could look forward to getting married. (Good thing they laughed ‘cause I sure wasn’t. It was super awkward...) He suggests seeing how they feel in about a year. (Oh...perfect timing for...next season...hm.)

Faith tells him she loves him and wants what’s best for both of them, even if that thing isn’t them being together. They agree to just enjoy the night and worry about the rest later.

Anyway, I feel like these two just have NO chemistry (they’re worse than Bill and Molly in my books). I really appreciate the attempt to give them meaningful material, and I like that Carson has a passion again, but boy oh boy are these two hard to watch. The plotline is really good, but the characters just...aren’t great. I figured if anything they’d give a plot like this to AJ and Bill to tie that up (some kind of conflicting reason she can’t stay in Hope Valley to be written off the show for good) so I was surprised to see it going to Carson and Faith instead, but like...in a good way because it’s actually compelling for their situation! I've been in a similar situation and it feels REALLY BAD to like someone a lot but not be ready or willing to commit to an extreme for whatever reason. Faith doesn’t want to go to Baltimore because she loves Hope Valley and she undoubtedly doesn’t want to see it go without a doctor at all. Carson likes Hope Valley but his passion is in surgery and he can make a huge difference in a big hospital. He could still make a difference in Hope Valley, too (undoubted he’s the only surgeon for many miles around these smaller towns) but he also likes hospitals and their equipment and maybe misses what he had a long time ago.

So it’s a great plot. It’s compelling. It’s even a bit tragic when you think about it!

But my God do these characters just...not come off as convincing. :(

Mike and Fiona: The scene with Ned was SUPER cute. Genuinely funny. Mike asking Fiona out. Everyone teasing Mike about how much he likes her. It’s very cute and wholesome. So far I enjoy it a lot. There’s not a lot to talk about here but I like that it’s...simple.

I MEAN...she’s so cute.

END THOUGHTS:

I want the next three episodes right now immediately, but I’m also going to be pretty sad when this season ends...I think.

The biggest speculation from this episode, by the way, is that they’re opening things up to write Abigail back onto the show. How do we feel about that?

Any other thoughts? Favorite scenes? Share!

#when calls the heart #long post #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

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merakiui · 4 years ago

Note

You got any yandere hcs of the boys before we start. Im an yandere obsessed anon who lives and brreaths reading this shit and I wanna know how fucked we can get

(Here you go, wonderful anon! I’ll post yandere hcs for the other teams soon. I’d also like to post yandere fics for these boys, but I’m not sure if anyone’s interested. >-< I’ve got two sitting in my drafts, though!)

Yandere Morning and Day Teams

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 TW: (yandere) unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, mentions of kidnapping/captivity, gas-lighting, starvation, abuse

Morning Team (Mane)

🧩 Ghilley 🧩

Ghilley is definitely a stalker. He’ll be in your shadow whether you like it or not. Nothing escapes his watchful gaze, so it’s important that your enemies choose their words around you.

He’s already skilled at sneaking around, so he’ll use that to his advantage. Popping in to give you a spook, showing up when you’re out with someone else, and even when you think you’re alone.

He’ll follow you if he thinks you’re going to get yourself into trouble again. His poor manager just has a habit of attracting bad people. Just let Ghilley handle all those vengeful spirits. You won’t have to lift a finger!

If anyone gives you problems, tell Ghilley and that issue will be solved in no time. And if you get curious and ask him what happened, he’ll just shrug the question off in a playful manner.

His behavior is unpredictable, so you never know what he does in his spare time. Truthfully, Ghilley’s either watching you or he’s playing a few tricks on those who bothered you. They’ll remember not to mess with you if they’re given a permanent fright.

You won’t notice what’s going on until everyone starts to keep their distance. Friends will make up excuses so they won’t have to hang out with you, and those who might’ve had some romantic interest in you have cut communication altogether.

When you’re feeling down, Ghilley will swoop in to cheer you up. You start to normalize your relationship with him because it’s all you currently know. No one else is willing to talk to you, so you can only rely on him.

Ghilley knows it must hurt to be alone, but it’s the only way he can have you to himself. So he’s willing to bury his pain if it means he’ll get to console you.

He wouldn’t hurt you, but he might remind you every now and then that he’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned you yet.

Yet. A word that’s become part of his daily vocabulary. A word that reminds you of the fact that he could leave you one day.

☀️ Ell ☀️

He shouldn’t feel these emotions to begin with. It’s almost...dirty, in a way. Almost like he’s sinning.

He’s not doing anything bad, though. Loving you was what got him kicked out of Heaven in the first place, but that’s not entirely evil in itself. At first, he assumed Cupid’s Arrow was the one to blame for these lovey-dovey feelings, but it’s not Cupid’s job to foster obsession among former angels.

He doesn’t recognize how suffocating his presence truly is. You’d probably have to tell him to back off before he stops sticking by your side, and even if you did something like that it’d make Ell incredibly sad. Without realizing it, he’ll start to guilt-trip you.

“I’m sorry, Manager! You just looked like you could use some company. I... I can leave you alone if that’s what you want. You might think I’m annoying and—achoo!”

Nowadays, he’s been sneezing a lot, but the idea that his love for you is what’s causing all of this never crosses his mind. He just can’t wrap his head around that. Why would love, a pure, wonderful feeling, make him sneeze?

Under that smile of his are a dozen worries. He’s afraid he’ll chase you away or that you’ll stop liking him. Ell would feel crushed if that ever happened, so all of his energy goes into appeasing you.

He’ll show up unannounced at your office with your favorite snacks, follow you around the campus, and talk to you about literally anything. He could ramble about the grass if it means you’ll spare him your time.

Ell doesn’t really know the meaning of jealousy or hatred. Having been an angel once, he’s not used to negativity. He doesn’t necessarily feel extreme envy, nor does he hate any of the Reapers, but he does sulk about it.

It’s hard to say when he got obsessed. Perhaps it was when you first met and you mistook him for your own guardian angel. Despite the fact that he’s not an angel anymore, Ell likes the sound of that.

It’s a guardian angel’s job to care for and protect humans, so surely you won’t mind if he stays glued to you like a fungus. After all, it’s harmless, happy Ell! You’ve got nothing to worry about!

🐴 Jamie 🐴

Jamie is so strong it’s scary. Good luck trying to beat him in a fight if you ever attempt an escape.

He seems so innocent and kind on the outside, always willing to lend a hand when you’re struggling with Non-Non. If he’s being honest, he likes doing chores with you. It almost feels like the both of you are working on a farm together in the desolate outdoors. Just you, him, sprawling farmland, and no civilization in sight. How cute is that?

No one suspects he's obsessed until they look beyond that soft appearance of his. His gaze will linger to the point where it’s creepy, and he’ll smile while he watches you work.

He’ll get better at technology and city life so he’ll have something else to chat about whenever it’s just you and him.

If he finds out that you’re interested in something, he’ll try his best to learn more about it. Oh, you mentioned a new movie that’s been released in the human world? Maybe he’ll have to see it for himself. Did you want to try a new pastry from your favorite bakery? Jamie will buy it for you, so you should go with him!

He’s reliable, kind, and helpful—surely you’ll fall for those qualities. If not, he’ll find another way. After all, there’s a saying that goes ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way,’ and it’s not like he’ll give up anytime soon.

Jamie likes to imagine a comfortable life with you on the farm. Both of you will tend to the land and the animals, you’ll always have fresh crops, and you'll be together forever. It’s an ideal fantasy, but if you’re not willing he might just have to lock you up in the stables.

Jamie doesn’t fret over potential rivals. If he was able to silence the thugs in his neighborhood, a few pesky humans are nothing.

He’ll get flustered when you say anything nice to him. It really warms his heart to be at the receiving end of your caring words.

And it’s even better when you're accepting his suffocating love. You’ll find that the bed is much softer than the stable. Just don’t push him too far. Sometimes he doesn’t realize his own strength, and your bones can only take so much pressure.

💋 Licht 💋

Licht didn’t think he’d find his soulmate so soon! Whether you click or not, Licht certainly feels a special connection. He’s going to flirt with you no matter what.

It’s up to you whether you respond to his playful advances, but if you decide to humor him be prepared to have this man all over you. If you’re returning his playful gestures and remarks, it must mean something!

Licht lives for storybook romance. There’s something so lovely about sweeping his true love off of their feet, so he’d like to woo you in traditional ways. He’ll gift you your favorite candies, give you a bouquet of flowers, and buy you cute trinkets that remind him of you.

He takes note of what you wear and whether or not you put on a perfume/cologne on certain days. He’ll memorize your fashion style and then try to match it with his own. Licht’s happy whenever the two of you conveniently match outfits. It’s almost like you’re a couple.

He’ll probably spray his own cologne on your clothes if he ever gets a hold of them. You’ll wonder where this new scent came from, and Licht will be over the moon if you decide to leave it as it is.

Licht will invite you on dates under the guise that the two of you are just hanging out as friends. Lo and behold, his real motive is to act like your boyfriend. If you aren’t careful, he might just go around telling strangers that you’re his partner.

He’s always touching you in some way. Sometimes it’s an arm around your waist or his hands are on your shoulders. To some, it’s just his affectionate personality, but to you it’s completely suffocating.

Whenever he holds your hand, it almost feels like he’s daring you to try. Like he wants you to run off and get a taste of the scary world so that he can come in to save you like a true prince.

He hopes that enough flirting will have you confessing. All of these romantic gestures have got to count for something!

Despite this, Licht wants to believe you love him as much as he loves you. Tricking himself is easy, but convincing you is going to be a challenge.

Day Team (Die)

🎹 Theo 🎹

Theo’s harbored some dark thoughts ever since he witnessed you and Nine in the storage room, happily playing the piano like a pair of friends. Like a pair of lovers.

Theo can’t stand it when the others are around you, especially if they have ill-intent. Whenever he takes care of bullies or vengeful spirits, he’s got this dead look on his face. It’s devoid of any feeling, and his eyes are filled with silent anger. It’s a stare that does more than curse; it could probably kill.

He’s rather clingy, always insisting that he accompany you to and from your destinations. If you decline, he’ll just smile and act polite. But if he finds out that you decided to go with someone else...

Theo wants to be the only one in your life. Everyone else is just a worthless germ that needs to be scrubbed away. If they linger around you for too long, he worries you’ll become infected.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, but sometimes you need to learn a lesson. If you’re so picky about eating the food he so graciously went out and purchased, then maybe you don’t deserve to eat at all. Not until you warm up to his cooking, that is.

He’s willing to do anything for you in order to appear perfect. If you were to tell him to shoulder your workload, he’d do it without a single complaint. If you wanted him to watch paint dry, he’d do it with his head full of you.

All he ever thinks about is you. Sure, his mind flits from June to new recipes to the piano every now and then, but it always seems to settle on you in the end.

What did you eat for breakfast? Did you get enough sleep? Would you like something to drink? Where are you going with Youssef? Why is Nine getting close to you? Why aren’t you looking at him?

Theo will know everything about you in time. Whether you like it or not, he’s going to unearth every detail he can. Even mundane habits you don’t pay attention to. Before you know what’s happening, Theo’s got your schedule memorized thoroughly.

He holds no remorse for those who get in his way. As sweet and disarming as he may seem to those around him, Theo’s wicked behind closed doors. That spell book of his has no business gathering all this dust.

🌹 Louis 🌹

Everyone assumes Louis has no interest in anyone other than himself, so it’s a surprise when he starts to give you more attention than normal.

His compliments start getting personal and they still don’t make sense. Just the other day, you were trudging through the hall, dead-tired, when Louis passed you. He stopped, smiled, and said, “Thy radiance outshines the brightest of stars!”

He’s always energetic like that, so it’s not like his behavior is particularly strange. But he spends more time flattering you than himself. His main priority isn’t his beautiful face anymore.

You deserve the world. Why hasn’t anyone given it to you yet? Fear not because Louis is determined to give you everything you could ever want. He’s a prince, after all, so it’s only fair that you sit upon the throne with him.

There’s no room for anyone else in this relationship. It’s just you and him. If you were to leave him, his heart would shatter! Sadness has never been a good fit on Louis, and you know how much he cares for his appearance. So you’ll do him a favor and stay so he won’t wilt like a rose, right?

It’s almost like he lives off of you. You’re his sunlight, water, and fresh air. Any less of your attention and he’s sighing dramatically. Won’t you be a dear and cheer him up? After all, it’s not every day you see Louis so upset.

He doesn’t want you to hate him. If you do, Louis will just ignore your hurtful feelings. He’s got more than enough love to go around. Surely that’ll convince you that he means no harm.

You’ll be treated like royalty, and everyone else is a mere peasant. Sure, Louis can say that he treasures everyone, but some people just aren’t worth his time.

Naturally, a prince deserves the finest, and he won’t settle for anyone who isn’t you.

So don’t fret! Those chains are only temporary, and once you show him some hospitality he’s willing to ease up on his restrictions. Although his sense of freedom is rather cracked.

♞ Ethan ♞

Ethan is a tough case. He hardly shows his emotions, so it’s difficult to determine how he’s feeling. He’ll never show any hostility towards you, though. It’s nothing but warmth and kindness.

When it comes to the others, he’ll give them the cold shoulder and a few cruel remarks. His patience tends to wear thin when he sees people bothering you.

Ethan’s like a hawk. He’ll keep an eye on you to make sure you’re staying out of trouble and he’ll swoop in as soon as something unsavory happens.

He’ll treat you like a glass figurine that’s always on the verge of breaking. At some point, he becomes your unofficial knight in a way. He’s willing to defend you by all means necessary, so everyone else should back off if they know what’s best for them.

At first, he scorned these feeble emotions for getting in the way of his stony resolve, but now he’s come to accept them.

It’s impossible to deter him from his motives. Once he’s got his mind set, he won’t change it. After all, everything he does is completely intentional.

He’ll just stare at you while you struggle in those bindings. If you were smart, you’d just accept your fate and act docile, but Ethan’s not a fool. He’ll keep you bound for as long as it takes.

You can try to reason with him, but nothing ever works. No matter how sweet the deal may seem, he never agrees to any of it.

Ethan will take care of you while you’re adjusting to a permanent life with him. You won’t go a day without a bath, healthy meals, or a lack of sleep. If Ethan says you’ll bathe, you’ll bathe. If he says you’ll eat, you’ll eat. His word are practically law.

Despite his harsh rules, he’s not that hard on you. He’d never lay a hand upon you, nor will you find yourself at the end of his sharpened sword. As long as you fall into a pleasant routine with little complaint, he’ll be happy.

💥 June 💥

June doesn’t realize his feelings for you are unhealthy. He just thinks they’re a natural part of life! Everyone falls in love at some point, right? So you can’t blame him when he’s doing everything he can to spend more time with you.

Your paperwork will never get done because June wants you to watch him while he trains. He’ll even show you his workout routine, hoping you’ll agree to train with him one day.

He’s one of the Reapers who doesn’t get jealous much. Unless someone’s really trying to get him to snap—which doesn’t happen often. But in the event that he does feel envious, he’ll frown a bit, his voice won’t be at its usual loudness, and he’ll sulk.

Immediately perks up the moment you give him any attention. He practically lives off of your reactions and has no problem announcing that to everyone.

June will remain loyal to you no matter what! Nothing can separate the two of you, and he’s convinced himself that you feel exactly the same. If you’re always smiling, it must mean that you accept his feelings! So then why have you started acting awkward when he continues to ramble passionately about how much he admires your strength and persistence?

Try to leave him and he’ll be so heartbroken. June won’t know how to react! Why would you want to leave? He’s never done anything that would warrant this kind of behavior. Maybe he just needs to give you more affection.

Bright and early, he’s knocking on your dorm with a huge grin. “Manager, the sun hasn’t risen yet, but that doesn’t mean we should wait for it! Let’s train hard today! Haha!”

June loves protecting you. Whenever he saves you from danger, he feels like a hero in those action movies he loves so much. Anyone would love to get saved by someone who’d die for them! This sort of loyalty will have you falling for him in no time.

And if it doesn’t, he can just create a few perilous scenarios. What you don’t know can’t kill you, right?

You’re his soulmate, so there’s no way he’d give you up in his afterlife.

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pettyrevenge-base · 4 years ago

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Shit talk me? Ok, I won't hire you.

So I worked at a company that had serious problems with appropriate authority. In our office, the office manager would routinely say terrible things about the company, encourage the techs to quit and leave, etc. When I was hired she was looking for another job and was letting the techs do whatever they wanted. I was hired as a supervisor and discovered several ethical violations and the quality of work from the techs was extremely poor. We had one tech who was just flat out NASTY. She was bigger and tried to physically intimidate another supervisor (who was very short) by standing up over her and getting into her personal space because the supervisor called her out on trying to punish someone else. Basically, they all got pissed because they were allowed for who knows how long to do whatever they wanted and when I showed up and said you have to do your jobs, they didn't like me.

So one day the next level up supervisor decides that we have to fill out a rubric on how well the techs are doing their jobs. Of course I get stuck with the nasty bitch. I do my job, fill it out, and give it to her to sign. She signs it but acts like I took a giant shit in her cereal. Definitely a "how dare you tell me how to do my job" sort of situation. She begins saying really nasty things about me to corporate saying I'm terrible and mean to her, saying I'm not providing enough supervision (never mind she was constantly canceling so I would show up and she wouldn't be there, changed schedules with clients which she didn't have authority to do (I got her in trouble for that before I left) etc.) She was a loud mouth so someone who didn't like her told me all about how she was shit talking me. Tired of all the bullshit, I just said fuck it, I quit and started my own company. I've been very happy since.

Cue revenge: a year later I'm hiring for my company as I'm expanding and guess who applies to work for me! Yup, nasty bitch. I cannot tell you how much pleasure I got out of declining her application and clicking that she was unqualified to apply.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

#pettyrevenge #lol #omg

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pikapeppa · 4 years ago

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Professor Solas/Lavellan: First Impressions

Chap 1 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! In which Nare Lavellan has a chance run-in, literally.

Beautiful art by Nare’s creator, @elbenherzart!

~2400 words; read on AO3 instead.

- NARE -

Nare swept her hair into a tidy ponytail, then gave her face one last critical look before stepping out of her bedroom. She tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door across from her own. “Tamaris?” she called. “Are you–”

“I’m coming,” Tamaris grunted. “Give me two fucking minutes.”

Nare smirked at Tamaris’s customary early-morning surliness, then padded quietly down the hall to the living room. Athera was waiting pertly on the couch with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands, and she grinned at Nare as she approached.

“She’s awake, at least?” Athera asked.

“Awake enough,” Nare said drolly. She sat next to Athera and tucked her legs up on the couch. “Are you nervous about your first day?”

Athera laughed. “Me? Nervous? Of course not! Just a normal first day doing this job for the first time in the only Ancient Elvhen Studies program in the entire country. What’s to be nervous about?”

Nare sympathetically eyed her friend’s bright smile. She didn’t blame Athera for being nervous. Athera had been looking for a research coordinator position for years. Her new job at the University of Orlais was well-earned, in Nare’s opinion, and it was just a stroke of happy fortune that Athera was starting her job at the same time that Nare was starting her Master’s of fine arts with U of O’s prestigious — and infamous — Ancient Elvhen Studies program.

It was also serendipitous that Tamaris had decided she wanted a change of pace and place, resulting in the three girls splitting the rent on a cozy three-bedroom-plus-studio apartment close to the university.

“Don’t be nervous,” Nare said warmly. “It’s going to be great! By the end of the week, the director will be wondering how they lived without you making the whole lab twice as efficient.”

Athera grimaced and ran a hand through her hair long chestnut hair. “I don’t know. Professor Abelas did not sound that impressed with my lack of experience during the phone interview. I’m still surprised I got the job.”

“He probably thinks he can train you up fresh since you’re so-called ‘inexperienced’,” Nare said knowingly. “He’ll see how good you are in two seconds. I’m sure of it.”

Athera smiled at her. “Aw, you’re sweet. I bet you’re going to impress your new supervisor just as much when you meet with him tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” Nare said. But her belly jolted at the mention of Solas.

Professor Solas, she reminded herself. Just because she had a crush on her new supervisor’s voice didn’t mean she could start thinking of him in an informal way before they’d even met.

Oh, but he had such a gorgeous voice. The majority of her communication with Professor Solas had been via email, but the one time they’d spoken on the phone… Fenedhis, Nare couldn’t get it out of her mind. His voice was smooth and mild like a hot vanilla latte, with a curl of an Elvhen accent that made something shiver in her belly in a very visceral way. She was still surprised that she’d managed to keep her calm and sound like a reasonable and intelligent person after hearing Professor Solas’s first few words floating into her ear through the phone.

And that was just from hearing him talk about the Elvhen art stream of the program and the opportunities for exhibiting her work in the galleries in Val Royeaux. Imagine if he ever spoke to her in that beautiful smooth voice about other, less professional things…

Stop it, she scolded herself silently. She was being so stupid and horny, developing a crush on a man purely for his voice. Well, not just his voice: he was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, and strong-willed to the point of stubborn as well, if his academic position papers were anything to go by. But if Nare was being honest, his intelligence wasn’t the main thing that had been keeping her up at night for the past couple of months since she and Solas had last spoken on the phone.

It was stupid to be thinking such carnal things about his voice, though. She didn’t even know what he looked like — not for a lack of trying to find out, if she was perfectly honest. She’d searched online for a photo of her soon-to-be supervisor, but he didn’t have a faculty photo anywhere on the U of O website, and a Google search had been shockingly unhelpful, leaving Nare with only a blank slate to imagine along with that knicker-melting voice.

“Nare, you okay?” Athera said.

Nare jolted slightly, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Athera gave her a shrewd look. “Something tells me I’m not the only one who’s nervous.”

“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Nare teased.

Athera grinned, but Tamaris’s grumpy voice interrupted before Athera could reply. “You guys have nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to impress the shit out of everyone. Now let’s go get some coffee already.” She wandered over to the door and started jamming her feet into her scuffed black motorcycle boots.

Nare exchanged a smirk with Athera, then popped up from the couch. “Good morning, lethallan,” she crooned.

Athera giggled and hugged Tamaris’s arm. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.

Tamaris groaned. “Fuck off, both of you. I’m only awake this early because I have a client in an hour.”

“Wait, is it already nine?” Athera said in alarm. She checked her watch, then squeaked. “Oh shoot! Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet Abelas at the office in fifteen minutes!” She shoved her feet onto a pair of flats and grabbed her bag, then flung open the door. “Bye! Have a good one!” she yelled, and she bolted down the stairs.

Nare smiled at Tamaris. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Lucky you,” Tamaris drawled. “You get to suffer my morning-gremlin attitude all alone.”

Nare chuckled, and they made their way down the stairs at a more measured pace and wandered toward their favourite café at the end of the block.

It was a perfect crisp early-September day. The sun was a lovely warm wash of light, and the air was fresh and cool without being cold. The leaves hadn’t started changing colours yet, but the quality of their verdancy was starting to shift from the lush springlike undertones of blue to the more autumn-like undertones of yellow. When Nare pointed this out to Tamaris, Tamaris huffed in amusement.

“That’s such an artist-y thing to say,” she said.

Nare gave her a chiding look. “You say that like you aren’t an artist yourself.” She pointedly eyed the delicate vallaslin that curled around Tamaris’s left eye — vallaslin that Tamaris had carefully tapped into her own skin, and the same skills which had imbued Nare and Athera with their vallaslin as well.

“I don’t often work with colour, though,” Tamaris said.

“Isn’t your client this morning for a coloured tattoo?”

“Yeah, but that’s different than painting,” Tamaris pointed out.

“Your tattoo work is amazing, though,” Nare said.

Tamaris smirked. “Fine. We’re both amazing artists with mind-blowing skills. Are you going to buy my coffee for me because I’m so awesome?”

“I’m the student here,” Nare said with a grin. “You should be buying me coffee.”

Tamaris tsked. “Fine. Just this once though, you leech.” She pulled open the café door and gestured sarcastically for Nare to enter before her.

Nare chuckled and slid into the café. They placed their orders together, then sat at a sunny table to enjoy their coffee and fresh scones — vegan blueberry for Nare, and lemon-glazed for Tamaris.

Nare took the lid off of her cup and blew on her coffee. “So you’re coming to the start-of-year mixer tonight, right?”

Tamaris slumped in her seat and shoved a hand through her lush midnight curls. “Explain again why you want me to come to this mixer thing. I’m not a student.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’re not a student,” Nare said. In truth, she just wanted to get Tamaris out of the apartment before she started forming roots.

“It kind of does,” Tamaris said flatly. “It’s happening at the campus bar.”

“Lots of non-students go to the campus bar,” Nare pointed out. “It’s a nice bar.”

Tamaris grunted. Nare leaned toward her slightly. “Come on, Tam,” she wheedled. “Come to the mixer. Athera’s coming.”

“She works at the university now,” Tamaris pointed out. “It makes sense for her to go.”

Nare wilted. “What else are you going to do if you stay home?”

Tamaris’s reply was prompt. “I’ll rewatch The Archdemon Rises 3 for the fifth time and paint my nails.”

Nare declined to mention that Tamaris’s eggplant-purple manicure was still intact since she’d last done her nails two days ago. Instead, she widened her eyes pleadingly. “Please come? We’ll make a girls’ night of it. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Tamaris eyed her stonily for a moment, then sighed. “Ugh, you and your baby blues. Fine, I’ll come.”

Nare beamed at her and took a bite of her scone. A leisurely half-hour later, they stepped out of the café.

Tamaris stretched her arms over her head. “All right, I’m headed home,” she said with a yawn. “You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow so we can go to that museum exhibit together?”

Nare shook her head. “I want to see it before my meeting with my supervisor tomorrow.”

Tamaris smirked. “Hoping to impress him with your up-to-date knowledge of the local art scene, huh?”

Nare poked her playfully. “Yes, okay? I want to make a good first impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tamaris said. “You always make a good first impression.”

Tamaris’s tone was dry, and Nare gazed fondly at her seemingly standoffish friend. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you later.”

Tamaris nodded and headed back to the apartment, and Nare turned in the opposite direction toward the modern art museum. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped open her browser to check the price of tickets for the special neo-Avvar exhibit; she was fairly sure she’d get a discounted admission with her student ID, but some of the museum’s special exhibits were even free for students, and Nare couldn’t remember if—

She suddenly slammed right into someone.

She stumbled back, then squeaked in alarm as she tripped over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. Her phone dropped from her fingers, and she grabbed for it even as she tried to find her footing, oh no oh shit she was going to fall down–

A strong pair of hands grabbed her arms, and Nare gasped as she regained her balance. “Shit,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I – my phone, I was distracted…”

“The fault is mine. I apologize.”

A heated ripple of recognition spilled down her spine. That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been replaying that voice in her head for months and wondering what the person who owned that voice looked like: how tall he was, how big his hands were, what his lips looked like shaped around the liquids vowels of that divine Arlathani accent…

Lightheaded with disbelief, her heart in her throat, Nare lifted her eyes to his face.

Her breath left her in a punch of shock. Gorgeous. He was gorgeous. An impeccably shaven head, a mere hint of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes which put him somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s, lush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, a delicate divot in his chin and a jawline sharp enough to cut, and his eyes…

His eyes were perfectly lucid, a perfect quixotic blend of light grey and pale blue that Nare couldn’t quite name, and they were so warm. His eyebrows were creased with a hint of concern, and when the crease in his brow deepened, she realized that she was staring.

“Are you all right?” Professor Solas said.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Which was a good thing, because the only words Nare could think were you are fucking hot.

She nodded dumbly. A tiny hint of a smile curled the left corner of his lips, and he released her arms. “I apologize for the collision,” he said, and he crouched down to pick up his book and her phone. “I should know better than to read and walk at the same time.”

Nare watched stupidly as he rose to his full height. Fenedhis, he was tall.

He held out her phone, and Nare carefully studied his face. There was no recognition there. There was warmth in his handsome face, but no recognition. He didn’t know who she was.

Not that she would necessarily expect him to, since he was a professional and an intellectual, and professional intellectuals probably didn’t online-stalk their new grad students to find out what they looked like.

She took her phone with trembling fingers and swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You are not hurt, I hope?”

Ugh, he was so good-looking. Why did her supervisor have to be her exact ideal physical type?

She dropped his gaze and tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear. “I — no. I’m fine,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Good,” he said. “And again, I apologize for the collision.”

She shrugged and tried to nod at the same time, then wanted to smack herself for being so fucking awkward.

“Take care,” he said. A moment later, he was walking away from her.

She finally dragged in a breath and watched greedily as Professor Solas walked away. For someone who had such a mild voice and such kind eyes, his gait was certainly confident.

Confident and sexy.

Nare blew out a breath and forced herself to turn away. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? Why was her heart beating so hard, not just in her chest but in her entire body?

Why was her mind completely taken over by the thought of Professor Solas stretching her naked body out on a desk, those warm grey-blue eyes scanning her from head to toe before he taught her all kinds of torrid lessons that she would never forget?

Fuck, she thought desperately. I am in so much trouble.

#solas #solavellan #solas fic #professor solas #professor solas au #pikapeppa writes #elbenherzart

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sebumis · 4 years ago

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#lgbtstoriesweek || shoulda, coulda, woulda- shin pd’s dramas

one of the things I will always appreciate about shin pd’s works is his willingness to explore same gender attraction. reply 1997 was the first kdrama that I watched featuring a gay (if one-sided) loveline. I admire that shin pd is willing to explore something other than oppressive straightness across various projects, and I wish more showrunners were willing to take this “risk.” all that being said... it’s the conclusions to his lgbt storylines that don’t give me life in quite the same way other aspects of his dramas do.

so let’s break it down.

reply 1997

in general, joon hee is probably the character I have the least to say about. if I’m being picky, I would have liked more details on his sexuality. I think the ambiguity makes sense for the high school scenes from 1997. sexuality is fluid for a lot of us, and especially during adolescence. like. who knows anything as a teenager? but, I feel like the “present” timeline could have done more exploration on that front. all the other major characters have their futures outlined pretty clearly, so I’m just a little annoyed that the one mlm character gets the lost in translation treatment, you know? show us who was in that damn CAR, shin pd.

reply 1994

binggeurae is a little more complicated. reply 1994 in a lot of ways is my baby (trash as the male lead for all of life amen). but the binggeurae storyline? I don’t know, man. I think in a lot of ways binggeurae works as an extension, or even parallel, of the joon hee storyline. binggeurae shows an interest in trash (less explicitly than joon hee, we’ll get to that) and he has A Secret Person in a Car waiting for him during the flashforward... much the same as joon hee did. but unlike joon hee, we do find out who is in the car during binggeurae’s flashforward. we see him meet a woman, fall in love, and marry her during throughout the drama. the wrap up of binggeurae’s storyline is significantly more clear than joon hee’s, but I’m not sure it’s as successful for me.

I do think binggeurae being bisexual, letting go of his crush, and then moving on to someone else is not a bad storyline on the surface... it just didn’t work for me in practice. my problem is that while joon hee’s love for young jae was explored, binggeurae’s love for trash just... wasn’t. if joon hee’s ending was vague and ambiguous, binggeurae’s entire loveline with trash was vague and ambiguous. there were reviewers who still, even by like episode 16, didn’t know for sure if binggeurae’s feelings for trash were romantic. baro did good lingering eyes, and some monologues implied him fighting with feelings... but we really don’t get much clarity that binggeurae’s love for trash is anything more than admiration. and, at least in the translations I read, the one thing scene that DOES read as romantic seemed to imply that binggeurae did love trash but needed to ~grow up~ and marry a woman. why did they even have that car callback to the joon hee storyline? I wonder sometimes if they asked hoya to come back for that scene and he declined, or if they changed their mind midway through. but all I have to work with is what we have, which again feels like a lot of unexplored territory re: his sexuality and what that entailed.

wise prison life

and finally.... well... let’s talk about han yang. y’all. I truly thought this was going to be it. this was going to be where shin pd made everything up to me. and in some ways, it did correct some of the problems I had with earlier series. this is the first time we see an actual gay relationship in any of his shows. no more of that one-sided pining shit. the scenes where ji won visits him in prison? beautiful. the flashback to their first kiss? poetic fucking cinema.

but that ending, though.

I think wise prison life spends a lot of time on just how damn disappointing and unfair life can be. we see that, to some degree, in pretty much every major character. but at the end of the show, most of those people have some hope. han yang, by my count, is the only character from the prison cell that’s confirmed to have a bad ending. some of them we just don’t know how they end up, but with han yang it’s confirmed that he’s going back to prison for god knows how long.

I think this is the risk you take of using only one or two people from a minority group in your storyline. there are so many straight dudes in the drama that it doesn’t hit as hard that some of them get happy endings while others don’t quite get the justice they deserve. but han yang being the only gay prisoner that we spend any real time with, and having him get back on drugs while his boyfriend suffers... feels especially unfair. there is a storyline to tell there about how strong drugs are and how it can ruin people’s lives. but when you tie that storyline in with your only major gay character… it fucking sucks, man. captain yoo gets the appeal even though there’s only a 5% chance, but han yang goes off the wagon because druggies are the biggest reoffenders? give me a fucking break.

conclusions

so, by my estimate, if you’ve got a loveline with someone of the same gender in a shin pd your future is either: ambiguous, straight, or miserable. it sucks because I love his dramas so much. his shows always have this wonderful blend of funny and heartfelt. he’s got a knack for finding character actors to give life to the rich characters that populate his works. there’s so much good there and I want the lgbt storylines to match that quality, but I just don’t think they do.

I don’t think realism is always a bad thing, but when it’s your gay characters that are almost exclusively suffering for it… maybe some changes could be made.

#lgbtstoriesweek #reply 1997 #reply 1994 #wise prison life #shin pd can make this up to me personally if he has a positive gay storyline in one of the future hospital playlist(s)#or reply(s) tbh #especially if that character is a lesbian #only then will I be able to move on

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Twenty Years Separated and Getting Divorced

Notes:

This is inspired by Sweet Home Alabama, with Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas.

Plot: After 20 years you finally come back to the town you grew up in, which is now basically non-existent except for a couple ghost buildings and wild cows to find your husband and his family, who are the only ones crazy enough to still live there, and get your fucking divorce finalised.

Warnings: Swearing, divorce?

~~~

Hoyt sees me strolling up to the house before I even reach the porch. Our eyes meet, a short moment of nostalgia passes quickly- and World War 3 begins.

“Well, hi to you too! Just fabulous to see you, after… half a goddamn century.” Charlie gets up from his seat on the porch and now stands up to 5 feet taller than me… because he’s still on the god forsaken porch and I’m the ground. Goddamn, his ego’s still as big as that ridiculous hat that he’s wearing now. Since when is he sheriff? He didn’t even go to college- I know; I’ve been married to him since we were 18. “Fucking city slicker.”

My jaw falls open. City slicker?? “You know damn well I grew up right here, you two-bit drama queen. And I live in Alice Springs now. Maybe it ain’t your country but it is still butt crack nowhere, you old fucking coot!” After a second, I also say. “And I’m not even 50 years old yet, you asshole!”

“Pft.” He chews on something in his mouth, maybe his cheek, and sets his jaw. “You lived here, what? 20 years ago then? If you wanna get specific about it.” Okay, that’s better, more accurate at least, but I could’ve done without the attitude. “You lived somewhere else more than half your life- don’t go gettin’ excited and acting like you’re a local.”

I mean, going by that logic I’m a fuck-ton more southern then he is- Australia’s as southern as it gets without living in Antarctica. But I digress. We need to get this show on the road.

“I did not come all the way here to argue with you Charlie.” I roll my eyes and sigh deeply, stomping up the porch stairs to meet him at the top, scrunching up my shoulders and feeling slightly sick when he leans over the steps a moment later and spits thick brown shit into the dirt. Why is he always spitting? Why! If he has excess saliva like that, he should go get himself checked out! And if he’s chewing tobacco, then he fucking needs to stop! Restraining myself from saying so though by taking a deep breath as he straightens up again, I instead hold out the A4, manilla yellow envelope that encases our divorce papers - already signed by me, - to him… which he just looks at, of course. Difficult, ancient bastard. “I’ll pay!”

“Is that your way of askin’ for a divorce, honey bear?”

“Why, yes.” I smile, already feeling the relief of cutting ties from this man.

“Then I sweetly decline.” The smile is wiped off my face, and sketched onto his instead. He turns around and goes on into his home, letting the screen door slam shut hard behind him, too, after he gets in.

I sigh in frustration, close to a scream and stand there uselessly for a second before barging in after him and am about to yell for him to get back here, before a rustling sound alerts me to the door on my right and Luda Mae comes out of it. Closing it carefully shut behind her.

Immediately, my mood calms down considerably and I feel a startling, familiar warmth in my chest. The mood Charlie put me in just a second ago all but disappears seeing her. “Luda Mae!”

The moment she realises it’s me, she beams. “Oh, dear. I thought I heard you arguing outside with Hoyt, but I didn’t believe it!”

“Hoyt?” I blink, still smiling but in a confused way. Am I missing something?

“O-oh, I meant Charlie. Sorry, baby.”

After a tight hug we let go and assess each other.

I’m happy to see that she looks healthy. A little sweaty and tired, but she’s always been that way. It’s hard to not be, living here. It’s hot all day, every day - hell, they barely have winter in this part, -, and she’s never really been a summer kind of girl. I suggested to her a couple times that she could move away, but she always said that this is where their family had always lived- and they will always live here. Its where Charlie got it from.

I’m just getting to her eyes, and noticing of course immediately, the sad change in them from the last time I was here and forming a way to ask her if she’s okay when she tucks some grey hair behind her ear and asks me how I am. To be polite of course, I answer. Expecting to ask her the same right after.

“Aw, I’m doing just fine! Trying to get your stubborn son to give me a divorce, but apart from that life’s treating me well. I would love it if you could come visit me sometime in Australia, I have a guest bedroom where I picked the wallpaper and I just know you would love it. Soon as I looked at it, it was so you!” Her eyes brighten at the idea and she’s about to, bashfully decline I’m guessing, but Charlie stomps heavily down the old wooden stairs again like the attention seeking hippopotamus that he is. Has to let everyone know he’s entering. I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you just get a career on the stage, Charlie; They’ll announce your entrance for you. Jee-sus. Save you some time!”

He flashes me an unimpressed and joyless smile, as Luda Mae covers her mouth - not to hide her laughter from her son, but to be polite. She’s classy; I always liked that about her. In fact, I tried to be just like her growing up… I failed, but I still admire the quality on her, - and laughs a bit at my quip. Pride blossoms in my chest and makes me smile wider.

“You keep sweet talking me like that and I’ll never divorce you.”

My smile turns into a scowl and glare. “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” He stops beside Luda and drops the barrel of his shotgun back against his shoulder, like a soldier in Buckingham palace. What does he need that for right now?! “Besides, I’m too expensive for you darlin’.”

“I hate you.” I say slowly, so it gets through his skull and he understands. “And you hate me.” He nods in agreement, still looking far too smug and pleased with himself. “So why can’t we get divorced and never talk again?!” I fail to see a downside!!

“Cuz I like to see your feathers all ruffled.”

“You-“ A slew of insults are about to break free of my lips, but a loud, popping bang comes from the kitchen like something tried to get out, making me look startled from the closed door to the room, to Charlie and Luda Mae. “What was that!?”

“Well… “Charlie looks thoughtful for a second, like he truly doesn’t know what to tell me, before slowly turning his gaze on Luda. “I believe Momma just blew up her pie.”

“Wha- “For half a second, Luda Mae looks like she’s about to slap her son all the way to Tim Buk Tu, before smoothening out her features again and turning back to me. Pasting an honestly believable, bashful smile on her face and speaks in a restrained voice that gives away her displeasure. “Yes. Must have lost track of time.”

Well, clearly that’s a bare faced lie. “Nice try. Charlie can pull off a lie like that, but you cant, Luda. What is it?”

Her smile softens and in two seconds she has smacked Charlie -not enough to hurt. It’s just a warning slap for trying to make her sound like a bad baker when we all here know how great she is, - and takes my arm in hers, guiding me across the hall and into the living room. “Really darling, its nothing. Thomas’ havin’ a bad day. I’m sure he’ll buck right back up though when he sees you! Are you going to stay for dinner?”

Looking behind us, I squint dangerously at Charlie. “If Charlie won’t sign these now, I might not have a choice!” Turning back to Luda, I genuinely smile. “But I would genuinely love to stay and see Thomas and Monty too, and eat your cooking! Thank you for the invitation. Maybe I can help with dinner! I have gotten better since the last time I was here.”

Charlie scoffs at my words, walking in after me and beating us to the chairs. He drops down in a recliner while Luda sits us down on the couch together. “You mean when you broke my oven?” She grins, a cheeky glint in her eye and I sigh, embarrassed.

“Yes… “Giggling, I cover my face a moment before jumping back into the fray. “But I really have gotten better!”

“I’d love to see that dear.” And the great thing is, she really does seem to. She would give any number of chances just to see one of her kids - me included, even if I am just her daughter in law. For now, - succeed. For a moment the room is just silent, and I let myself remember what it was like to be here all the time - the good things, I mean. Don’t you worry though, I remember the bad things like fighting tooth and nail with Charlie better the anything, - and how that felt, before Luda claps her hands.

She doesn’t like emotional stuff, Luda. Charlie’s a drama queen, but that’s where the emotion showing stops in this family. Thomas takes after his mother in not being too emotional, ever, and Monty prefers to keep to himself. He always has, and he goes by that philosophy regarding everything. “Well, I’m assuming there’ll be no driving off after dinner- the airport is a solid 4-hour drive! And you will not be driving that long at night.” She sets me with a cold, stern look over her glasses for a moment and even though I’m a 40-year-old woman, I submissively nod to her like a teenager. “You’ll stay in the spare room! Hoyt- Charlie. Sorry. Go change the sheets in there, and I’ll go get Monty to give you company while I start up dinner! Chop chop.”

“Wh- Did you forget she’s here tryin’ t’ divorce me, Momma? I ain’t offering the bitch any pleasantries like that! -“

“You will and you will do it with your mouth shut, Charlie.” Luda Mae gets up to her feet and Charlie and I both crane our necks to see her face. She gets much quieter, and her gaze goes dark like a parents’ does when they’re pissed. “And watch your mouth.”

Charlie bows his head and gets up from his seat, going off to do as she says. “R-Right, momma.”

My grin gets so big it turns into a laugh, leaning back into the couch cushions as I watch Charlie walk off up the stairs, flipping me off when Luda leaves the room.

~~~TIME SKIP~~~

In the middle of the night, I get the bight idea to get the divorce done, immediately. If I don’t, I’ll just let time fly by again with Luda Mae and Monty, and Thomas who’s a grown up now, and I’ll never get it done. It has to be done now.

So I get out of bed, pull on my coat since I didn’t bring my dressing gown, grab the manilla file and a pen and leave the room. It doesn’t take me long to get to Charlie’s, seeing as its just down the hall, and I don’t knock before barging in. I close the door veeeeery slowly, and quietly, then sneak around to his side of the bed and take the shotgun that’s leaning against the bedside table, the handgun that sits on it, and the knife under his pillow- I still know my husband, thank you very much. And I know that if he hears someone in his room at night eh will not think or look, before shooting me in the head.

Dropping all the weapons carefully on the armchair in the corner of the room, no longer trying to be quiet as I sit down on the side of his bed that Charilie is not sleeping on. His eyes burst open at feeling the bed dip, and as he looks over to my form, his hand reaches out to grab the handgun of course, and… he calms down immediately to his cranky, exhausted, middle-of-the-night mess. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing in here?? This ain’t your room anymore, piss off!”

“I know that, silly!” As he forces himself to sit up and carefully lean his back on the headboard, I hold up the manilla folder. I beam. “Just thought this would be a good time to get our affairs in order!”

“Well,” He takes a gulp from the water on his nightstand. He swallows it like it’s a rock, or a large pill. Is it even water? “You were wrong.”

“Au contrair, mon frair.” I grin, looking around behind me and on the other side of the room for something hard to write on. Ah! Hopping off the bed for a second, I grab a large hardbacked recipe book. “It is the perfect time! You’re sleepy, which makes you 90 percent more likely to be swayed into signing these papers.” I pop the book on his lap, along with the appropriate papers and the pen. “There you go; Now remember, once you sign these, we never have to look at each other’s faces, ever, again. Think about how lovely that’ll be.”

Still with the suspicious liquid at his chin, Charlie slowly raises his eyebrows at me. “Girl, you better get those papers off my lap right now or I’m gonna tear ‘em up.”

“Eep!” Immediately, I snatch them back. Then glare at him as he takes another sip of the drink. “Please.”

“Ain’t no good manners ever made any difference with me.”

I let out a deep sigh, in utter frustration at him.

I turn fully to him, completely comfortable seeing him in his bed shirt and boxers this way- it’s been 20 years and his hair’s going grey, but it still feels natural, fine, to be like this with Charlie. That does not, though, mean that I want to be here. I cross my arms, leaning my shoulder into the headboard. “Why? Why wont you divorce me? Do you hate me that much?”

“No, ‘sweetie’. I love you that much.” I watch him as he sets his jaw, takes yet another sip and glances at me. I gesture for the glass, and he hands it to me.

Taking a gulp as I turn to settle my back against the headboard, I’m pleased to find that the water is not actually water. It’s vodka. Good, I need this after a statement like that from Charlie. “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t try to tell me what I do or don’t know.” Taking the glass back from me when I finish it off, he sets it on the table. I can tell he’s still sleepy, and aching to go back to dreamland, as his words are gentler than usual, and his movements are a struggle. “Bottom line is, Y/N. I’m finally getting everything I every wanted- and I’m not gonna to let you slip through the cracks again.”

“Hard to believe, Charlie. You never tried to contact me during those, oh, 20 years I was gone?” Turning my head, I raise my eyebrows at him.

Groaning from the effort, he turns around in his spot, takes one pillow from behind him and gives it to me. “Yeah, well, I was a bit busy helpin’ Mama raise Tommy. I never stopped thinkin’ a’ you as my wife, though. You’re mine, sugar. Whether you like it right now, or not.”

“What’s this for?” I ask, holding the pillow with a confused look.

“Sleep. Its too damn late for this conversation.” My jaw drops, as Charlie lays back down in his bed and snuggles under the blankets, closing his eyes. “If you sleep here, we can talk about this as soon as we wake up; If you go to your room, you’ll have to wait til’ dinner. Then Mama’ll make you stay another night… I suggest you lay down.” With that, he pats the bed as if as an order, and after a moment of thought I groan. Evil, conniving bastard.

I take off my jacket and lay it at the end of the bed, then get under the covers and lay down my head on the pillow, half annoyed and half ready to sleep- it is late, after all. I am pretty tired. And one more night in bed with Charlie isn’t going to kill me, besides… him still loving me? The news does give me something new to think about. It… it needs to be factored in.

A moment passes where we just lay on the different sides of the bed, him with his eyes closed and probably 2 seconds from entering a hypnogogic state and me unable to get comfortable, before I sigh in frustration again and just decide to try something.

Crossing the space between us without warning, I wrap my arms around his middle in a hug, and press my face the nook between where his throat is and his shoulder, smelling a shock of his scent for the first time in 2 decades and closing my eyes to it, trying to ignore the fast paced beating in my chest.

Goddamnit, it worked. I’m comfortable as fuck now.

Charlie doesn’t comment, thankfully, and just makes a sleepy noise and reciprocates the cuddle, pulling my body closer to him by the waist. My heart beats extra fast at it, but I try to focus on going to sleep.

Cuddling with your soon-to-be ex husband and enjoying it means nothing, right? Haha… hopefully.

#Charlie Hewitt x Reader #Sheriff Hoyt x Reader #Luda Mae Hewitt #Monty Hewitt #Thomas Hewitt #Oneshot #Charlie Hewitt x Reader Oneshot #Sheriff Hoyt x Reader Oneshot

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