#Hence why I was talking to the popular girl

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

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

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

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

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

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

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

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

December 9th, 2024. 

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

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

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

“Do girls like flowers?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

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

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

If Mingi showed up, great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

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

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

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

“I guess…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

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

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

“You’ll come?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

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

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

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

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

“Oh, when is she up?”

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

“She’s last.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, son.”

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

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

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

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

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

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

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

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

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m still proud of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You good there, princess?”

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

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

Why wasn’t he there?

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

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

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

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

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

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

“Really?” 

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

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

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

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

“Wh-what!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

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

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

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

“Mmmm.” 

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

“You still going to that game?”

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

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

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

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

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

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

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

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

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

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

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

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

“Want me to call Kyo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was everything but your scenery. 

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

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Song!”

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

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

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

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” 

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

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

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

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like to see you try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boyfriend?” 

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

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

“I take it, you know him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

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

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How, uhm…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

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

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

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

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

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

“What are you even talking about?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Beans?” 

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

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

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

“You wanna talk about it?”

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

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

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

“He doesn’t.”

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

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

“Why are you crying, bean?”

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

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

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

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

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

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

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

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

“He really hurt me.”

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

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

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

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?!” 

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

“Surprise!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s got you all happy?”

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

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

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

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

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

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

“So it’s true?!” 

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

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed at the reply.

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

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

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

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

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

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

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

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

[thedvilsinthedetails]

lmao (wow so many life update posts today) also this is the first chemistry lesson I’ve actually taken notes in this (school) year and i took rlly good notes and it’s bc my friend was missing the lesson so he was gonna copy my notes and that feels James Potter coded of me haha

[murasakiirohana]

.

[centrally-unplanned]

(Extreme on-brand post incoming) Some translation discourse about Chainsaw Man's latest chapter right now - in English this scene is translated as "slut":

But in the original it is 痴女/Chijo:

Literally "dumb woman" but almost always today used to mean "female molester". So people are complaining that, particularly given that Asa was the initiator of the current sexual encounter in question, that this is an incorrect translation - her anger is more over being a violator than shame over her sex drive or whatever.

I don't think they are right about that - "slut" is the best translation of 痴女. It doesn't not mean 'molester', it is used for someone who actually does that, but that is comparatively rare - its primarily used more metaphorically for a "sexually aggressive woman". Here is a typical dictionary entry for the word, which includes this line:

色情におぼれ迷う女

"to lose oneself in lust". Because the idea of this molester is that it isn't some calculating predator or anything, it is that she is overcome by her emotions, unable to reign herself in, and thus crosses boundaries. Hence the word origin - "dumb woman", right? Sounds like a slut to me, pretty similar to how we use that term - even if it has no connotations of sexual assault in English.

Also this is just the culturally accepted translation of the word, I think that counts for something.

But I want to go deeper - after all, there are other words in Japanese that mean "slut", like パンコ/Panko - yes like-but-not-exactly the breadcrumbs let's not get distracted okay? So why use 痴女? Here, I am going to note that this is a manga, it's part of a specific culture. Maybe you've noticed that in eroge male media - even tame ones like harem shows - compared to western porn the men are pretty passive? They don't make a lot of stories of chads pulling chicks, it is nerds having alien space hotties throw themselves at him.

This definitely comes from wider Japanese culture, don't get me wrong (and I lack expertise there, lets not oversell myself), but it is definitely the case than in animanga a male passivity streak is just sort of embedded as the default. And you can see that in the use of 痴女 in the medium.

So let's run an experiment! Let's go to e-hentai, and find the first relevant result with that word in the title. Here we go:

 カースト上位のあの子は実は淫乱ドスケベ痴女

"The girl in the top caste is actually a lewd, perverted chijo"

And yeah, its about a hot, popular teen girl being paid to fuck some guys who propositioned her. The fourth page literally includes a guy saying "I am so excited, this rules". He isn't being consent violated in the slightest, the fantasy that makes her a chijo is how eager and lustful she is.

Audiences read all this stuff and cross reference each other, like language does. Its a pretty common term in the space. None of the cultural focus is on the violation aspect, all of the cultural focus is on the desire, and it has added punch as a sort of shameful secret ("Popular girl is actually..."). It's just slightly confusing because there are undercurrents of default norms in the sexual language that we in English don't have. The default Japanese slut is 20% more aggressive, as it were.

Slut, therefore, is the correct term for a manga translation. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[atlabeth]

table thief

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer's routine, thoughts, and plans are thrown off by a girl he meets at his favorite cafe --- not necessarily in that order.

a/n: i dont know where this came from but uh. enjoy this lil fluffy blurb! ill get to those 3k requests sometime. set during spence's time at caltech

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): none, all fluff

Spencer’s mind is a whirlwind of information while he stands in line at his usual coffee shop, trying to keep everything in order as he goes over everything he needs to get done. It’s a particularly busy afternoon for him, hence his coming here directly after class instead of stopping by his dorm. 

There’s a research paper for him to finish, office hours to make for his most elusive professor to get some questions answered—why she only has them open for two hours on Wednesdays, Spencer has no idea—a thousand papers to grade for the class he’s a TA for, and naturally, a coffee to give him the energy for the rest of what is going to be a long night. 

Of course, he knows he should probably try and do it without caffeine—it’s one of the most popular drugs in the world, and most people live in ignorance of their obvious addiction to it—but Spencer has decided to forgo some caution in the name of getting all his work done. 

He doesn’t really have a choice, honestly. He’s planned out this whole day meticulously, much like every other day. He packed his bag with everything he would need for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to make the aforementioned stop at his dorm, he picked the line with the barista that has never gotten his order wrong—and, he’s realized over numerous trips to this shop, is the fastest in the entire cafe—and his usual table is big enough to hold all of his books and papers. 

But as Spencer finishes pouring in his last bit of sugar, he realizes his meticulous plan is foiled before he can even take the first sip. 

Because his table is taken. 

The table he sat at the first time he stopped in here before class and the table he has sat at every other time since, the table that has honestly become a part of his routine and is the only one big enough for all of the work he has to get done this afternoon, is taken by some woman wearing a Caltech sweatshirt and reading a book. You’ve got your own thermos in front of you, so at least you care about the environment, but that thought doesn’t stop the flareup of annoyance inside of him. 

You have to be a student, and you have to be his age, and you have to either be oblivious or have a whole lot of nerve because Spencer has seen you around campus and in this coffee shop before. That means you know this is his table and you still took it anyway. 

“That’s my table,” Spencer says, and after it leaves his mouth he’s able to hear how stupid he sounds. It’s a table in a public coffee shop. Of course he has no claim to it—just because it’s obvious to him doesn’t mean it’s obvious to you. You probably didn’t even know. 

You look up from your book, and the second stupid thought to hit him is how pretty you are. “I know.”

He frowns. He can’t think that table thieves are pretty, especially ones with apparent malicious and knowledgeable intent. “You— you know?”

You nod. “I’m here almost as much as you are, Mr. Reid.”

“Doctor Reid,” he corrects, almost on instinct. 

Your eyebrows rise. “Doctor?”

“I have two PhDs,” he explains, though he feels even more stupid doing so as he gets on the edge of stammering. “I’m working on a third. Chemistry.”

“And already I know more about you in a minute than I’ve gotten in the past month,” you muse. “That’s why I took your table, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer frowns even more. “You took my table so I could tell you about my PhDs?”

“So I could get an excuse to talk to you,” you correct. Your smile grows a bit and you huff a quiet laugh, more to yourself than anything. “You’re a little intimidating.”

That gets him completely, his brows furrowing deeper yet. “I— I’m intimidating?”

“Well, yeah,” you say. “You’re a gorgeous guy who always looks like he’s got something to do, so I never wanted to interrupt you. But I really wanted to ask you out, so I finally decided to take matters into my own hands.”

Spencer feels like his brain is short circuiting. He’s still stuck on the intimidating comment, and he’s still kind of annoyed that you took his table, but you specifically went out of your way to get his attention and now you’re calling him gorgeous— 

Just who the hell are you? 

“You’re not busy, are you?” He’s drawn out of his head temporarily as you speak again, dazzling smile still on display. “I would get it if you were. I mean, third PhD and all.”

“No,” he says immediately, shaking his head far too rapidly, “no— no, I’m not busy.”

He just has a whole lot of work to do, work that he came specifically to this cafe to do, but you’re throwing him off of everything in the first five seconds of knowing each other. 

“Wonderful.” Your smile grows and Spencer feels his face grow hot. He finds his annoyance quickly fading, replaced with some mix of confusion and interest and embarrassment. “If you’ve got the time, I’d love to sit down and talk some. Get to know you a bit.”

And again, Spencer hardly even knows what to say. He— he doesn’t talk to girls. Girls don’t talk to him. But here you are, stealing his table and flashing pretty smiles and wanting to get to know him— wanting to ask him out. It’s all so absurd that a part of him thinks he might just be dreaming, but he’s sure he’s fully conscious. 

“Why?” he blurts out, and he would be even more embarrassed if it wasn’t such a genuine question. 

You give him a wry look. “Why what?” 

“Wh— why would you want to get to know me?” Spencer stammers. “There’s more than 2,000 other students here. There’s almost 40 million people in California. I’m no one.”

“You are Doctor Spencer Reid,” you say, looking him right in the eye. “You drink your coffee with an absurd amount of sugar and cream, you always seem to be in a hurry, you’re one of the most beautiful guys I’ve ever seen, and I want to know more about you than passing observations. That’s why.” 

For once, Spencer finds that he’s speechless. He doesn’t think anyone has ever been this blatant, this honest with him, over a matter like this. He— he doesn’t think he’s ever been asked out. Are you asking him out?

“If you think this is totally weird and you want your table back, say the word and I’ll get out of here.” Your eyes move to the free seat across from you, and you tilt your head. “But… if you don’t think it’s totally weird, there’s room for another.” 

Spencer stands there for a second, a thousand things flitting through his mind once again. On one hand, he has a lot of work to do. This is throwing off his entire routine, and even if he just spends ten minutes talking here, he’s going to have to get all his work done, and he’ll probably end up running to his office hours to make it there in time. Part of the reason that he plans things out so meticulously is so he can avoid sprints across campus that he’s most certainly not built for. 

On the other hand, he’s known you for two minutes and he’s already enraptured. He wants nothing more than to ignore that voice in his head and sit down across from you, absorb every bit of attention you’re willing to give and every word you say, and get to know this strange table thief. 

It takes another moment, but Spencer slings his bag off and takes the seat across from you. He sets his bag on the ground and his oversugared coffee on the table, and he notices the way a weight seems to leave your shoulders. 

You were nervous. Nervous to talk to him. The thought is almost laughable, that someone feels the way about him that he usually feels in every social interaction. 

“It is a little weird,” Spencer says, and he finds a small smile tugging at his lips that he can’t fully control. “But that’s kind of my specialty.” 

Your smile grows, and Spencer thinks you’re one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. He has no idea how he got lucky enough for you to intercept him like this, but he’s grateful for it. 

“Good to hear,” you nod, and you let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry for stealing your table, by the way. It was the only thing I could think of to get your attention.” 

He shakes his head as he blinks a few times. “I don’t blame you. It’s a good table.” 

“It’s not really the table,” you say wryly. “It’s you. You’re very intriguing.” 

“Well,” Spencer says, clearing his throat as he tries his hardest to calm his nerves, “I guess it’s not really my table anymore. It can be our table, going forward.” 

Your eyebrows rise, and your smile is as bright as your eyes. “I like the sound of that, Doctor Reid.” 

His face burns as he tries to act casual, and he hopes you can’t tell how much he likes the sound of that. 

You start talking, asking him questions about himself and what he does and how in the world he has two PhDs already when you’re the same age, and he finds himself attached to every word—it’s an active effort to not get lost in those bright eyes of yours. 

(Spencer never does make it to those office hours.)

[project-sekai-facts]

someone asked for the full list

don't question what i use tiermaker for

Tier 1: As stated in today's fact, Shizuku and Haruka can be considered the most attractive characters in the game, as multiple characters have shown attraction to them. Shizuku moreso than Haruka, but there's not too much of a difference to separate the tiers.

Tier 2: These characters have all been stated somewhere to be attractive.

Mafuyu is considered to be outstanding in all fields, including appearance. It's occassionally commented that she is quite pretty. Ichika and KAITO's first kizuna title is "Ikemen while playing", ikemen meaning handsome or cool. Ena has a Twitter account for selfies that has a reasonable following, and she often gets comments saying that she's pretty or cute. Len has a similar sort of idol aura to Haruka does, and is referred to as 'princely'.

Tier 3: These characters are never explicitly stated in the game to be attractive, but you can work it out.

A few background characters in Petit SEKAI Episode 9 mention that Akito and Toya are hot. Given that the miniseries is non-canon and a gag show it's up for debate how true this is, although it is a believable detail, hence why they're in this tier.

As for Rui, we have to look at the Valentine's Virtual Live from 2021 (wiki screenshots below). Keep in mind here that Rui is not popular in school at all and doesn't have many friends at this point in the game. He mentions that he received a few boxes of chocolate in his shoe locker on Valentine's Day, which admittedly could be platonic. However, the fact that this continues on into a joke about Tsukasa trying to claim that he got chocolates too before revealing that he got friendzoned by multiple girls (more on that in a second), makes it seem more likely that these weren't platonic. Linking back to the fact that he's not popular and doesn't really have many friends, he's probably pretty good-looking.

Tier 4: An being scouted as a model was an important part of the plot of Wishing For Your Happiness Upon The Blue Sky, and it's mentioned in an area conversation that Kanade has been talent scouted for modelling before.

Tier 5: Full disclosure that probably all of the MMJ VSingers are either pretty or cute, the ones mentioned here are just the ones I remember it being stated/implied. In the April Fools 2022 area conversation with the Lukas, MMJ!Luka says that WxS!Luka is very cute. N25!Luka calls her MMJ variant out for calling herself cute, and MMJ!Luka says that she herself is cute. (TL)

Kohane is mainly referred to as cute by An, which is biased, but other characters have pointed this fact out before as well, so she qualifies for this tier.

Mizuki loves cute clothes and accessories and always tries to look cute. I believe a few other characters have called them cute, but unfortunately the only instance I can actually remember is one transphobic faceless background character saying "you can't tell and they're super cute".

Also Minori and Airi are here because they're idols and have been called cute because that's part of being an idol I suppose.

Tier 6: Yes he gets his own tier because it's funny. This guy runs on rule of funny like 50% of the time. Anyway, as mentioned earlier, in the 2021 Valentine's Virtual Live, he gets annoyed when he hears Rui talking about receiving (implied romantic) chocolate and tries to claim that he too received (implied confession) chocolate, before saying too much and revealing that he only received friend chocolates that girls gave out to all the other boys as well.

Tsukasa's actually a lot more popular than Rui and doesn't have the same "outcast" reputation, plus in his A Once-In-A-Lifetime Pandemonium card story, Ibuki (Taniyama) mentions that Tsukasa's friends from class are really popular with girls, and Rui's friends are surprised he's in that kinda crowd (not that Tsukasa quite gets it). What I'm saying is that he's in a crowd of popular guys that are good with women and he's failing in that second aspect. The reason why is never stated but considering the school's resident outcast is able to get Valentine's chocolate for probably no reason other than looks, it's safe to assume Tsukasa is maybe lacking in that field.

But.

I think two guys have flirted with him? One definitely has anyway. The other is more up for debate but was probably written with the intent of ship tease. Depends on how you choose to interpret it.

In other words on a scale of attractive to unattractive he's the secret 3rd option (appeals to the mlms).

[sidsinning]

Not that I excuse any of them, but I think why people are more mad at Colin for his mistakes rather than Anthony's is bc they're so much more relatable to be on the receiving end of. Having the guy you like talk shit about you to their dudebros, having him friendzone you through unknowingly invalidating your womanhood, etc. I feel like girls can see this happening to themselves, or have even already experienced these events themselves, rather than like- he impulsively proposes to your sister bc he's afraid of his feelings for you lol.

(Also, the torture Anthony went through fighting his desire for Kate, and seeing his desperation for many episodes was worth it bye)

Everything Anthony did wrong to Kate was bc he was emotionally stunted and was unable to understand his love and passion for Kate, while Colin just didn't appreciate Penelope as much as she's been there for him. Which is partially not his fault, he didn't know how deep her feelings went for him, but it's just that much more realistic and painful to relate to as girls have probably felt like Penelope has at some point. Lacking in self confidence, being a wallflower, bullied by the popular crowd, etc. Doing your best to be there for him while you do not get the same kind of devotion back.

(And I think besides helping her family, much like Eloise, Colin has not been an equal friend to Penelope bc she is always there to listen to him while not returning the same amount of vulnerabliity when it comes to her life and issues. That is partially her own fault. Until season 3 where she snaps and fully vents to him. Which was rough at the start, but led them to become closer. It's not like Colin ignores Penelope's issues, she just never shared them so he didn't get a chance to support her in return until now. Hence doing his best to find her a husband. W for him until he falls for her. Sucka.)

[jinxthejubilee]

I don't know why the fandom is having such a hard time picturing Azul having a little brother based on Morgana from the second Little Mermaid movie. It could totally work in canon!

Let's break this down for a second:

Azul's parents are divorced. He was raised by his bio mom and his step-dad.

Azul says himself that his step-father is "the father he respects," which could mean that he has absolutely no contact with his bio-dad. He wouldn't know what he was up to or if he had other children.

Azul's bio-dad could've also been a cecaelian (octo-mermaid) and had another child, or he could've been a normal mermaid who got with another octo-mer after he divorced Azul's mother.

Heck, maybe that was the cause for the divorce in the first place. Maybe he had an affair and destroyed his marriage himself. Or if you want to go a bit deeper, after their marriage fell apart for whatever reason, Azul's bio-dad wanted to recreate the family he lost and got with another cecaelian woman and had his little brother.

This point, in particular, could be a reference to the popular theory that Morgana was Ursula's half-sister. Same mother, different fathers.

The theory goes that Ursula was the result of an affair Triton's father, the former king, had with an octo-mermaid. Such a scandal would bring shame upon the royal family, hence why Ursula lived with her mother away from the prying eyes of the court, but it would also make sense why, in her youth, Ursula still had ties to the castle and lived there from time to time (according to the movie).

A few years later, Ursula's mother had another baby girl with a normal mermaid. He wasn't anyone special like the king, with no royal lineage or special magic of his own, making Morgana "unremarkable" in her mother's eyes. Or maybe their mother truly loved this man, and the relationship didn't work out, so she takes her anger and insecurities out on Morgana.

With all of this in mind, it's possible that Azul's bio-dad could resent Azul's little brother in some way, giving him an inferiority complex a mile wide, just like Morgana. He wouldn't stop talking about Azul and how great he's become, how his brother should strive to be more like him.

It was always: Azul this, or Azul that, or (INSERT NAME), why can't you be more like your brother Azul?

He would grow to despise Azul, his own brother, who he's never even MET. That's perfect angst potential right there. To add fuel to the fire, maybe little bro tried to reach out to Azul and connect with him, but their father sabotaged that somehow and made him think that Azul just didn't care.

Now you might be asking, how would Azul's bio-dad even know about Azul's accomplishments? Glad you asked!

Either A): Azul's mother is the only one in contact with him and updates him on how Azul's doing from time to time.

Or B): His bio-dad enrolled the Morgana stand-in in Azul's school by chance and heard through the grape vine that Azul became the deal maker non-technical crime boss he is now.

Or both. Honestly, both of these combined would push little male Morgana over the edge. His classmates hear the rumors about an octo-mer who granted devious wishes a few years back and are either scared of or really unimpressed by the little bro's lack of magical prowess.

The bullying and self-hatred haven't skipped a generation, and neither has the body issues. Instead of being insecure about being overweight, Azul's little bro is insecure about being way too skinny.

This went on way longer than I thought, but to wrap up: All this to say, if we got Jamil's sister, who is a reference to Jafar's twin sister from that obscure Aladdin game, I think it's plausible for Azul to have a brother.

Thank you, and goodnight!

[heavenlymorals]

The Camp Girls: A Pedestal of Morality

Warning: This post contains the exploration of period-typical attitudes that can border on sexism, as well as spoilers for RDR2.

RDR2 is a game, that for the most part, values its historical setting in the sense that the setting actually matters to the story and the characters. The characters are not only reacting to the historical attitudes, but they are a part of it as well. Of course, Red Dead 2 is a bit more tame in some aspects of 1899 America, especially compared to RDR1, which makes SURE to remind you of the prejudices of 1911 America.

For this post, however, I want to talk about more domestic attitudes that were a part of the gang- to be more specific, I want to talk about the Cult of Domesticity or the Cult of Womanhood and how that idea relates back to Dutch's gang.

The Cult of Domesticity or the Cult of Womanhood was an idea that was popularized in the 19th century by the Victorian middle class that spread to America and explained, encouraged, and pushed specific gender roles and cultural ideas to the masses. As the name probably explained, this idea was pushed onto mainly women. There were two main aspects of it- the private sphere and the harbinger of morality.

The Private Sphere had everything to do with a woman's role in the house- hence the private sphere. The Private Sphere had everything to do with housekeeping, childrearing, being a good host, and overall creating a safe haven for the men in their lives. While the men had to deal with the public sphere, which was business, work, protection, etc., women took charge of the private sphere.

The morality aspect of it is about how women were expected to bring morals to the house. Men were expected to hold women in high regard and women provided sectors of emotional safety and humanity to men, as well as providing children with a moral code and instill them with manners.

This excerpt from usahistory.org explains it better than I can: "A TRUE MAN was concerned about success and moving up the social ladder. He was aggressive, competitive, and rational, and channeled all of his time and energy into his work. A TRUE WOMAN, on the other hand, was virtuous. Her four chief characteristics were piety, purity, submissiveness, and domesticity. She was the great civilizer who created order in the home in return for her husband's protection, financial security, and social status."

Of course, men perpetuated this idea, but a lot of women also supported this model of living, believing it to be the way it should be. Writers like Sarah Hale published magazines that explained what should be the behaviors of a proper lady. Women's magazines like Godey's Lady's Book sold 150,000 copies in a year. Catherine Beecher was an advocate for bringing the women's sphere to the classroom in order to instill a proper moral code into their students.

But why does this matter? I mean, the camp girls aren't exactly the moral standard of womanhood in the 1800s. Mary Beth is a thief. Karen is a scam artist. Tilly ran with gangs and murdered a man. Abigail was an ex-prostitute and a thief. Grimshaw was probably all of those things combined at one point or another.

Well, you could argue that because they live unconventional lives, morality was a bit greyer, but overall, the women of the camp still, in one way or another, adhered to this idea regarding the cult of domesticity.

The private sphere and the public sphere definitely existed in the gang, which is why there were so few missions with the camp girls. The girls were mostly resigned to the "house" or to the camp. They worked to make the camp a livable place for the men who gave them protection and financial security.

It is a common sight seeing Tilly washing clothes, or Mary Beth and Karen sewing something, or Abigail wiping down tables, same as Grimshaw. There are all very domestic roles- while in camp, the women are almost always working, except for Molly and Sadie, while the men are almost always lounging around- typical of the 1800s home.

The girls mention this as well through interactions.

Tilly mentions how much she hates washing and mending the men's laundry and how she wishes the men could do their own laundry.

Karen tells Grimshaw to shut up because Grimshaw isn't the one feeding her, so she won't take her bullying.

Abigail screams how the men aren't being men because they couldn't protect Jack from being kidnapped. She also critiques Dutch's philosophy because it doesn't feed them.

Mary Beth is yelled at for not working in the camp as she should by Grimshaw.

There are more examples of this, but we will be here all day if I have to go through all of them.

Grimshaw is kinda obvious. The girls have to work to please this fierce dragon, who is always working. Arthur mentions in the entering Valentine mission whether or not Miss Grimshaw could spare them, showing how the general priority of the girls in the camp is domestic work.

We also know that the girls doing men's work is generally rare due to this one interaction with Karen- "Not so long ago, I was a damsel in distress. Now they got me protecting the men."

The now implies that this isn't a normal routine and that protecting the men is not something that she usually has to do.

So that was just the domestic aspect of it, but there is also the morality part of it.

I think the biggest representation of this is the mini-therapy sessions with the girls, telling you to be better and offering advice to what might make Arthur a better man, with Arthur being more comfortable opening up to them BECAUSE they are women and because he expects their morality to keep them from using such information to hurt him, which is something he has to be careful with when it comes to the men in the camp. But there are more representations of this.

There is Abigail begging John to put his old ways behind and to be a better man, a real man. There is Hosea speaking about Bessie, talking about how while she is in heaven, he will be looking up at her from hell, implying that Bessie had the moral compass that Hosea did not (the interaction also probably destroys the fandom's interpretation of Bessie and Annabelle being very active members in the gang, when that is most likely not the case). Even Mary, though not a camp girl, still acts like a moral harbinger to Arthur, telling him to be a better man and stop being an outlaw.

John has a line in Undead Nightmare that is a complete reference to this thought process: "Abigail, teach the boy right from wrong."

So what am I getting at here? What is the point of all of this? It seems like I am just going off on old historical attitudes, but what does this ultimately mean?

What it means is that Dutch allows women into the gang in order to dignify his ambitions.

Dutch likes to differentiate himself from the other gangs that still roamed in America. While the other gangs stole and robbed for fortune, Dutch robbed for his romantic ideals and to be a western Robinhood. While the other gangs had many men, Dutch had a few strong men whom he knew personally and trusted. While the other gangs targeted innocents, Dutch's gang targeted only those whom they saw as committing the sin of avarice.

Dutch wants to see himself as morally superior to other gangs and other criminals, so what better way to do it than allowing women into the gang? Women who suffered great misfortune in their life and had no other place to go. With women being a pedestal of morality back in that time, Dutch having women in his camp as a way to differentiate himself from other gangs- a way to show people that he is better than them.

Every other gang encountered in the game has no women.

"We are what we are. A bunch of desperados on the run. But with the women, a change of clothes, we're a choir, or a gang of pilgrims, or something."

See, that one line from Guarma from Dutch basically explains the whole concept. Without the women, they are desperate criminals, clinging onto nothing, but with the women, they become virtuous by association. But someone like Micah doesn't care about this virtue or morality because he explains that he would rather just be a criminal and run with a few strong men, which is what he does in the end.

The concept of the private sphere and the public sphere of the camp can also show that Dutch wants to dignify his gang by giving it a sense of civilization to make it truly like a home or family.

What an interesting idea, don't you think?

[awildeternity]

Kendrick Lamar vs Drake, my own little rant

FIRST OFF, THIS HAS CREATED SOME OF THE MOST IMMACULATE MUSIC I'VE EVER LISTENED TO. I AM VIBRATING AND NOT MANAGING TO CALM DOWN, SO I'M GOING TO RANT ABOUT IT. There's so much background to this. Drake was the one to originally put Kendrick on the world stage. Kendrick was literally an opener for one of Drake's tours back in 2012. That was before Section.80, which was Kendrick's first real studio album, and even then it was more of a mixtape at the time. So, Drake and K-dot were always basically involved with one another. However, while I don't know all of the background to it, I'm pretty sure Drake has been taking shots at literally like half of the rap game for the past few years. Future, A$AP Rocky, Kanye, and obviously Kendrick a couple of times. Saying that his first big hit was basically because of Drake, and that he kept doing features with big artists like Rihanna (LOYALTY.) and SZA (All the Stars). This all leads to a lot of bullshit recently. I'm not EXACTLY sure on the timeline (Feel free to correct me if there is anything wrong), but there are a couple of notable events, notably Drake using a *AI VOICE OF TUPAC* in a song (which led to him getting a cease and desist and a LOT of heat because, well, obviously.) Kendrick accuses him of being a culture vulture, basically trying to appropriate the Black US culture that he did not grow up with. LET'S REMEMBER DRAKE WAS ORIGINALLY BORN IN A GATED COMMUNITY FOR WHITE PEOPLE IN TORONTO. HE HAS NEVER BEEN "HOOD", NEVER LIVED THROUGH GANG VIOLENCE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. HE STEALS ACCENTS TO SEEM LIKE HE BELONGS AND BASICALLY APPROPRIATES THE CULTURE LIKE A BITCH. I'm pretty sure J.Cole also dropped a song that called himself, Drake and Kendrick the "Big 3" of the Rap Game, to which Kendrick responded in Like That by saying "Fuck the Big 3, [] it's just big me." which obviously means that he considers himself a step above both of them. That's basically when we get to the most recent stuff, and the MEAT of the topic. Drake drops Push Ups. It is some tame shit, let's be honest with ourselves. That song calls out the fact that Drake "handed" Kendrick his first number one hit, which, yeah, he kind of did, but whatever. There's picks at Kendrick's height, his foot size, the fact that his label TOP DOG takes 50% (Hence the lyrics "drop and give me 50" and the push ups title, dropping a song and giving TPE 50% of the profits) Also calling K-dot "wiped down" by more popular artists like SZA, Travis Scott and 21 Savage. Also weirdly enough taking a shot at Metro, a producer that had worked with Kendrick on Like That, but like, why??? AND THEN. FOR A FEW WEEKS, KENDRICK SAYS NOTHING. ON TUESDAY OF THIS WEEK, THOUGH, HE DROPS THE ABSOLUTE BOMB THAT IS EUPHORIA. Euphoria is the title of Drake's show he co-produced that got a bunch of heat for having some weird sexualisation of teenage girls, which is already a pretty good hit, but the LYRICS THEMSELVES. KENDRICK LITERALLY CALLS OUT DRAKE ON SO MANY THINGS. Talking about how he's not a rap artist but a scam artist that wants to be accepted (culture vulture, again), talking about the Tupac shit with "I'd rather do that than let a Canadian [] make Pac turn in his grave", once again calling out Drake being fucking CANADIAN and trying to appropriate the culture. Also making a reference to YMW Kelly and calling Drake and J.Cole his "friends" (YMW Kelly murdered two of his friends, hence why that is a diss and not a compliment.) I have to comment on the absolute HATE FEST too. "I hate the way that you walk, the way that you talk, I hate the way that you dress I hate the way that you sneak diss, if I catch flight, it's gon' be direct We hate the bitches you fuck 'cause they confuse themself with real women And notice, I said "we," it's not just me, I'm what the culture feelin'"

[wonryllis]

Give your moots tropes they suit!

、ㅤ🎬 ⋆ ࣪ 午 MOOTS AS TROPES ᵎᵎ

so i already did this with a few of my mutuals HERE, and hence i'll only do those who i haven't done and those who i have talked to at least a couple of times. ( MUTUALS )

@jaylaxies co workers to lovers au like a chem prof and eng prof having beef that the entire college knows of and suddenly they start seeing each other differently and and appreciating their differences (like their personality and style of teaching and the way they think etc yk) students are flabbergasted when they announce their relationship AFTER being accidentally discovered by someone lol.

@alvojake college au with a project partners to friends to lovers trope where they both think the other is boring but quickly are proven wrong when enjoy the time together more than expected and then going on 'hangouts' after the project is over, just the two of them and then denying feelings for the longest time sigh.

@sserasin crushing on crush's crush and then getting successful trope if that's a thing. like going to a hangout with a bunch of friends at an amusement park or something very active and coming across her crush's crush and totally getting why and then finding it hard not to fall but at the end of the day her crush is changed and now it's like a competition.

@pockettwinzz legit like legit stalker x celeb, i married my anti fan au but reverse like i married my die hard fan? hazel being famous for supporting the celeb but like not in a creepy way and loving them while heartedly and then suddenly something happens and the celeb has to work with hazel's company for something and the celeb requests to be assisted by hazel for everything and that's how the story starts!!

@hooniehon classic airport crush turned fling you never seen again but boom you find them in your vacay hotel and they work as the bartender there. claire going to some exotic place, alone, for a work trip(surprisingly) returning to the hotel early evening after a meeting and then going out to the bar near the pool and finding that same airport crush bartending and then they talk the entire night and—

@pprodsuga idk if this because of the jay lawyer au but .. lawyer x lawyer and add a whole lot of comedy because they're kinda frenemies, basically eawyw choi suyeon and kwon minwoo ahhh!!! rivalry as coworkers and denying feelings because no way you like that person and then getting drunk and confessing josie pie is so suyeon and minwoo coded it's insane!

@koishua i did this for you on my previous account but this now my perspective has changed.. ahem ahem so found family in a romantic love setting au like just finding your person, your home and everything you have ever wanted to have to feel alive in your lover. fluffy little moments that means so much and evoke a range of emotions vie never expected.

@eeunoia popular girl with her nerd bestfriend turned fake date turned real lover trope. psyche tried of all the fans hovering around her and asking to go out with her, begs the bestfriend to fake date her for a few months, pda in the corridors and the cafeteria and uni festival and just everywhere anyone is that they don't even realize when it's not longer an act anymore.

@leaderwon classic classmates to lovers trope, but like new classmates yk. staring at each other on the very first day and being like oh they're good-looking! and taking more notice of each other as the days pass by and they talk between classes and sit together during lunch but it's slow burn and then high school comes to an end and they part ways but hit it off after a reunion years later.

@tyunni ta x student trope (they're same age!!) can totally see may being a worldclass genius, top of her class, loved by profs and then in comes the love interest who's just changed classes and can't for the love of god get a single thing inside their head. so every tuesday and thursday may gives lessons and they slowly fall in love..

@jjunae childhood best friend but then turned enemies and then fling .. things happen and like no matter how hard they try something just keeps coming in the way and like by the time they are together they're too old kinda the 'love rosie' movie.

@lheebra a coming of age au with a summer fling somewhere in europe, a 'float' movie au like dani taking a break from lawschool and going on a month long trip to somewhere small and cozy and then falling for this cute guy in the town who shows her around and everything.

@fakeuwus kinda like an "if i stay" au. period. nic getting into an accident and falling into coma where her soul is having an out of body experience and everyone around just wants her to stay but she does not feel like it until, that person that makes her see things differently that makes her want to live and that makes her want to try. crying.

@lilyuwon chaebol heir with the hardworking intern at their family's company. i can also imagine yev as the hardworking intern always scolding the heir about not trying anything because everything will eventually be given to them. and also yev being a bratty nepo baby heir who annoys the hell out of the intern because she's bored.

@sainns college au but sports rivals. captain of two different teams and always bickering about and everything. always fighting in the corridors about who's the better one and throwing glares before getting on their bus for the tournament but texting each other encouraging messages the night before the match and even going to support secretly.

@stwrjvke this is everything, maid of honor x best man trope. you can't tell me it's not ash like them both preparing for the wedding while bickering their asses off and then on the wedding day they bawl their eyes out watching their friends get married and then after the marriage is over part ways albeit with feelings grown and then meet years later somewhere and hit it off.

@intromortal new clumsy secretary with a supernatural being boss? like nia getting a job at a fashion editorial or something and the boss turns out to be a vampire or like a demon or incubus or something and nia accidentally finds it out and now she can't be allowed to quit because she knows and that secret brings them closer and closer ..

@glitterjay omg omg listen basketball captain x cheerleader au. absolutely can see sea being that pretty cheerleader that rolls her eyes at the captain and that's what makes her so attractive and worth chasing. and they have this thing of fooling around the lockers and the bleachers before and after match but the commitment.. ?

@kareyuns this is absolutely not because you live i hawaii .. actually it is so like love triangle between tour guide and her friend and the tourist. mimi taking up a summer job as a tour guide and being assigned to a backpacker who randomly chose the place and showing them around and her friend getting jealous by the amount of time she spends away because that's basically dates. and then the backpacker decides to stay longer and the rivalry for mimi omg.

@theyluvvaubery idk why but like a royal au, but set in modern day with her being the next in line to the throne and the love interest being someone of a lower rank and they struggle to be together. sneaking around at first and then being separated and then eloping away.

[d3m0nicdream]

Prom Night: Colby Brock (Part 1)

**Colby Brock Prom AU Poll Winner**

Colby Brock x fem!reader - a budding story about two people believed to be very unavailable to anyone, until they set their sights on eachother.

Part 2 is now up:

Part 2

tags: Slowish-burn, multi-parts, POVs will change in each part, I'll put tags on each part as they get posted. (there will be smut in later parts)

***************************************************

There is a difference between being well known and being popular. Y/N was both but Colby Brock was well known.

Y/N was a popular girl in high school. She wasn’t mean to people, she talked to pretty much everyone and she had pretty good grades all in all. Everyone knew her and everyone liked her. Especially the boys, but she would never accept anyone's proposal for dates or hang outs. It frustrated the majority of the male population but they weren't mad per say. They saw it as more of a competition against each other. If you could bag Y/N for just a hangout session, you would be a legend. So of course, Y/N had a lot of the male attention.

Colby Brock. He was a funny guy, he was also known throughout the school. He was nice to everyone, talked to everybody like they were friends, no matter who you were. His stunning dark hair and blue eye combo had all the girls fiendish over him and he would hear them out but politely decline.

While sitting and watching the football players practice, an event she was invited to by the entire football team. Y/N and her best friend Kat sit on the bleachers and witness the calamity that is their football team. Truthfully she felt more like a distraction than anything so with that she yells to the team.

“Hey, I going to head to study hall guys, good luck!” She waves and they all wave back, telling her to drop by again sometime which would not be happening unbeknownst to them. Her and Kat walk down the track but her eyes wander to the marching band, setting up for a football game performance.

"Hey Kat? Is that Colby Brock?" She points to the dark haired boy setting up his clarinet, him oblivious to her presence.

"Yeah, he's a band nerd haha. What a loser." Kat scoffs and rolls her eyes.

"What's wrong with being in the marching band?" Y/N quizzes as she stares at the group and their instruments, she had always wanted to learn how to play an instrument but never had time for it.

"Uh. Only nerds are in band, Y/N. Come on. Haven't you seen like any high school movie ever? Why are we staring at them. We need to go to study hall." She glares at the group and then walks away. Y/N jogs to catch up. She doesn't go unnoticed because there were two boys watching her, one being Colby Brock.

************************************************************************

"I don't know dude. it definitely looked like she was staring at you. Could you imagine?" Sam pipes up smacking Colby in the arm.

"My best friend bagging the legendary Y/N. That would be crazy!" Sam beams.

"Yeah, hence I'm not doing it." Colby goes back to packing up his instrument. He thought it was so ridiculous. Sure she was pretty but every dude was fawning over her. He would probably be murdered by someone to get to her, he believed people were that crazy.

"Hey, you think her friend Kat would go out with me?"

"Doubt it. She seems bitchy. I don't get how they are friends." Colby heads to his dreaded 4th period class where he's forced to watch people make fools of themselves for Y/N. It was quite painful to witness if he was being honest. As he's walking, he overhears what sounds like a threat by someone to his left. He sees Y/N being pressed up against a wall by some football douche with no escape.

"Sam, follow me." Colby walks up behind the guy, grabbing his shoulder.

"Damn, out here trying to bag Y/N?" Colby smirks.

"I wouldn't hold my breath buddy." Colby whispers in the kids ear while patting his back.

"Back the fuck off. She was just about to tell me she was going to see later. Right, Doll?" He smirks at Y/N like shes a meal and it doesn't sit well with Colby at all. He looks at Sam and he nods over to her. Sam understands him without a word being spoken. Colby grabs the dudes shoulders and yanks him around, pushing him out into the hall where he stumbles and falls to the ground. Colby towering over him while Sam slides by and grabs Y/N to move her out of the way.

"You better get going, class starts soon and you probably shouldn't miss it." Colby winks.

"This is not how you play the game, Colby."

"Oh buddy, I'm not even playing." He waves the guy off. He gets up and mumbles a 'fuck you' to Colby before heading down the hall. He turns and heads to Sam.

"Hey, uh. Thanks for that. Usually I can handle them but he was... persistent." Y/N speaks up immediately as Colby walks up. He waves at her.

"It's all good. We need to get to class though." All three walk to their class together and make it just before the bell. The rest of class, the room is buzzing about them all showing up together.

After class, Colby and Sam leave to meet up with Jake and Corey but they end up finding them first.

"Dude. You seriously got into a fight with Brent Snider? That's ballsy." Corey grabs Colby by the shoulders, playfully shaking him. Colby smiles at his friends actions.

"It wasn't that big of a deal. I was just helping someone."

"That someone being Y/N!" Jake flashes his screen at Corey and the boys. Corey's jaw drops.

"Dude. What the fuck. I thought you weren't in the game?" Corey stares at him wide eyed.

"I'm NOT. Look, he had her pinned to a wall, what was I supposed to do? Leave her there?" Colby rolls his eyes.

"I'm going home. I'll see you guys later." Colby pushes through everyone and they look at each other.

"COLBY! WAIT FOR US, DUDE!" Jake yells and runs after him, the others in tow. On the other side of the school, another conversation was being had between Y/N and Kat.

"Seriously! If Colby wasn't there, Brent would have done something to me, dude." Y/N shudders as she goes on about what happened to her to Kat. That was one thing she was afraid of when it came to the guys and this 'game' as they call it. She almost wishes she had someone like Colby around to ward them off. They walk towards the parking lot to their cars.

"Well, I'm glad you are safe. that sounds really scary. Hey.. Was Sam there with him?" Kat asks nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with her friend who is clearly staring daggers into her.

"Sam Golbach? Yeah, he pulled me out of the corner while Colby was doing his thing. Why?" Y/N could read Kat like a book.

"Oh, uh. no reason. Let's go."

************************************************************************

:)))) thanks for the love <3

Part 2

[97-liners]

ok so le sserafim won inkigayo this week w eve psyche and the bluebeard’s wife, which is such a deserved win bc that song is a bop, but i saw ppl talking about how the top three were that song, kitsch by ive, and thirsty by aespa, all three of which are a few months old at this point. (hype boy was fourth place!!!)

but the thing with inkigayo and the reason it’s so hard for boy groups to win on inkigayo is that they put a heavy percentage of the score to digital streams, so winners tend to reflect which songs ppl are actually listening to. (hence inkigayo, popular song) it’s why girl groups are able to get such good longevity on inkigayo— people actually listen to their songs, and they keep streaming even after months because those songs are— get this— fun and enjoyable to listen to. like, idk. no matter what army and bg stans will try to tell you, you can’t mass-buy albums and artificially inflate your way to relevance

[leajdh]

Gold rush

Chapter four: Ayo, fuck this. Are we dating? Are we fucking? Are we best friends? Are we something in between that? I wish we never fucked, and I mean that. But not really..

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:

Against all odds, everything is going smoothly. 

It’s only been two days since the picture was posted on my instagram, so I shouldn’t crow too soon, but how can I not when the wildcard Satoru Gojo follows all my rules without any objections?

It’s just too good to be true, but it is true. 

At least for now.

We haven’t really started yet with creating a narrative. So far we just handled everything between each other. I sent him a list of rules that he agreed on and we both signed a contract. Our contract likewise our fake relationship needed an expiration date, so we came up with 21 days after his first game at the Stanley cup. 

With that we make sure that people don’t suspect us from faking the relationship. We also decided the reason why we will break up is the long distance, something like; My life and home is in Idaho and his life and career is in New York City. I know, not romantic at all, but realistic. 

Coming to my rules, they are simple but strict.

Satoru isn’t allowed to post anything without asking me beforehand (exceptions are campaign pictures and videos).

The reason for this rule is simple. I don’t trust Satoru to not post anything stupid that will ruin the narrative I’m going for. With the picture of his head on my thigh, he set a tone for our relationship from which I want to break away. Everything will be family friendly from now on. A lovestory Disney would want to cinematize.

This rule also includes no talking to the media unless his team (which I am part of) approves.

2. Decluttering his social media.

Initially I thought I had to do much more. Suguru told me after the crash Satorus PR-team deleted every party picture or video. It didn’t matter if alcohol was in the frame or not. All this is gone. However, I decluttered even more. Yesterday I started my research on the people Satoru follows. Without mercy I deleted everyone I thought wasn't good for his image to be associated with. The only problematic one I didn’t unfollow is one of his teammates. Toji Fushiguro. 

Apparently a welcome visitor at casinos and race tracks. Bad enough for me already, but the cherry on top are the allegations from older women that, before he became a pro ice hockey player, he used to scam them for money and housing. 

But I looked more into it and I would rather say these old hags did not really get scammed. More so they were his sugar mamas and now they are mad at him for leaving them. Hence there was never a criminal prosecution. 

The biggest problem with Satorus social media are all the girls he follows. 

With a lot of them, he publicly hooked up. All gorgeous women; either models, singers or actresses. I gulped at that and thought on how to handle it. My initial thought was to simply not do anything. Just let them follow each other. I don’t want to come across as the girlfriend who is super jealous and if the media figures out (which they will) that Satoru unfollowed all his former liaisons, it will be a headline and I will be the villain. 

But this issue clashes with another rule.

3. For the entirety of our fake relationship neither him nor me are allowed to engage in any romantic or sexual relationship with another person. Doesn’t matter if it is happening in real-life or just online. Nothing that can cause any fanfare.

Personally I do not think it will be a problem for me but I have less (a lot less) faith in Satoru. He is known for his playboy lifestyle, so I was generally surprised as he agreed so easily to this rule. Even as I wanted to include a paragraph in our contract that I am given the honor to cut his penis of if he cheats. 

Sadly Ichiji told me such a paragraph isn’t legally allowed. 

It would have definitely strengthened my trust. 

Back to rule 2. I therefore just unfollowed some of them. Some had been canceled before for actually serious stuff like internet scams or selling their fans overpriced junk. As soon as I saw a post with CODE: whateverhernameis20 I unfollowed. 

4. I created an excel list with amazing athletes, especially female ice hockey players for him to follow. As an athlete himself, he needs to be more supportive and generally show more interest in what is going on in the sports world. 

On different dates he will follow certain athletes so it doesn’t look suspicious that he randomly decides to follow a ton of them. Everything in nibbles. 

Saving his reputation is a climb not a shortcut. 

5. He attends AA meetings each week. For this rule I was given an annoyed snort from Satoru but he did not say anything after I looked daggers at him. I will drive him there and pick him up, no excuses. 

Five rules but the most important one isn’t for him. It is for myself. 

I need to try to trust him. 

Trusting someone isn’t easy, especially after everything he did to me. But I have to overcome my issues with him to make this work. 

In spite of everything, I want him to be loved by his fans again. I want the best for him.

Only when he succeeds will I be able to make peace with myself and move on. 

Every therapist would shake their head and rip out their hair at this statement but I never learned how to correctly get over things and move on. All I know are challenges and they made me move forward, so I will handle this my way. The way even Suguru thinks would suit me the best. 

Today I am late as I run down the tribune in my boots. Satoru is already training, skating sideways in zigzag lines as Mei Mei screams instructions at him. 

Stumbling down the stairs I notice Suguru, who’s intensely watching the training. With a huff I fall next to him on the bench. “Sorry, I’m late but I couldn’t find the pink stockings off the set. I hope white is fine too”, I breathe as I tie my white skates on. Suguru turns his head to the side and watches me, blinking a few times. 

As for today, we will take the first official photo of Satoru and I together. Essentially confirming our relationship. So far everything is just rumors, neither of us has confirmed anything. With this picture we will officially start the fake dating storyline.

“White’s his favorite color and it suits you, you look really pretty”, his eyes are glued to my face and he smiles. Before I have the chance to turn red, Mei Meis' scream startles me. 

“You’re late!” 

I look at her as she is now turned towards me. Apologetic, I put my hands up and Suguru snickers beside me.

“How did your ears survive her screaming all those years?”, Suguru asks me as I finish tying my skates. I put a hand behind my ear and joke: “What did you say?” 

He laughs lightly again and I am happy about his reaction. 

Standing up I stretch a bit before I go on the ice. Upon hearing no more skates scratching the ice, I look at the rink and see Satoru staring at me, which sends a shiver down my spine. 

Since the day I agreed on being his fake girlfriend I have had a hard time maintaining eye contact with him, hell, even being near him makes me unbelievably nervous. 

Worst of all, I can’t tell why. I should actually be more relaxed around him since we buried our conflict and work together now, but as soon as I feel his freaky blue eyes on me, I feel like a deer in the headlights. 

Suguru softly strokes his index finger over my hip bone. I quickly turn my head towards him.

“Hey, are you alright?”, he asks and looks at me with a frown. His glances never make me nervous. When he looks at me, it feels nice and warm. Meanwhile Satorus peeks make me feel vulnerable like he can see right through me. 

All flaws, all my thoughts, open for him to see and mock. His stare gives me a weird sense of self doubt. 

I shake the thought off. 

“Just feeling a bit fussy”, I sigh: “You know, this is all really weird.” 

“I know”, he grins: “but it will all work out, so no need to worry.” I wish I could be as much of an optimist as Suguru. He gets up too and I notice the significant height difference between us. Even with my skates on he is taller than me. Half a head shorter than Satoru, but Satorus is also freakishly tall. 

“You are going on the ice too?”, I point at  Sugurus' feet which are in skates. 

“Somebody has to take the pictures”, he responds. 

“Right”, I reply with a neutral smile but internally I am pouting and stomping my feet. 

This makes everything even harder. Playing all lovey-dovey with Satoru will be hard enough, but now having Suguru focus on all the details and probably giving pointers. 

I should have stayed in bed. 

We walk down to the rink entry. I throw the blade protectors to the side and step on the ice, gliding over it with ease. I stop next to Satoru, whose entire focus is on me. 

“Good to see you, princess. Looking like there was no pea under your mattress”, he grins and I twist my mouth in confusion. 

“The princess and the pea. Did your dad never read you fairytales?” 

He knows the answer to that, but he still likes to get a rise out of me. 

“I know the fairytale but your comment still makes no sense.”

He skates closer to me and I focus on his nose, so it at least looks like I am looking in his eyes. 

“It’s no fun explaining it.”

“No one is forcing you.”

“Well, maybe there was no pea under your mattress but you definitely stood up with the wrong foot.”

I roll my eyes and skate a bit backwards. 

“It is my way to say that you look well rested.”

“Thank you?”, I frown, unsure what well rested means. A weird compliment? A strange gag? Whatever it is, nothing about us screams boyfriend and girlfriend. 

“And you look well exhausted.”

His hair is flat on his scalp, single pieces of hair glued to his sweaty forehead. He has reddish cheeks and sweat drops travel down his neck to his covered collarbone. He breathes still a bit heavy, the hot air he puffs out turning white due to the temperature. 

I curse myself for finding him incredibly hot at this stage. 

Why does he have to look hot all the time? 

This is unnatural!

“I’ve been here since 7am while you probably had some sweet dream about me”, he grins again, well not again. He is grinning at me the entire time. 

“You mean about your sponsors. Burberry wants inclusive rights for my public outfits, making me an ambassador.”

“No need to thank me.”

“I am not thanking you, I will thank you once Dior comes through. Checked clothes do not really suit me.”

He chuckles: “Quite picky.” 

“Are you really surprised?”

“Not at all.”

I foolishly look in his eyes and feel that shiver again. Turning my head instantly, I gulp and look for Suguru. He’s talking with Mei Mei, both of them stepping on the ice as well. As they glide towards us, I feel strong arms slinging around my shoulders from behind, holding me into place so I do not slither away. Satoru places his sharp chin on my head and exhales. I’m as frozen as the ice under my feet. 

“I know women hate this more than anything, but smile. We are in love or have you forgotten?”

He is right, but how can I smile at him if I can't even look in his eyes. This is going to be a disaster. 

“You’re messing up my hair”, is all I can mutter.

He inhales and I feel his broad chest extend against my back. His body is a living heater in this cold hall. 

Warmth spreads through my entire body, especially in places I should not feel hot for him. 

“Nonsense, you look like an angel”, his chin moves from my head to my shoulder as he leans more forward, his arms still around me. 

“Have I ever told you how much your little skirts turn me on?”

My breath is stuck in my throat, even if I had something on my mind to return, I physically couldn’t.

“Well, have I?”

Why does he have to torture me? I shake my head, still unable to move much less talk. 

He huffs disappointed. “I would prefer if you used your words, but I will teach you another time.”

He instantly lets go of me and I can barely stand on my wobbly legs, only now noticing that he held me really secure. Before he skates past me towards Suguru and Mei Mei, who are only a few feet away now, he pinches my left butt cheek. 

“Now smile, we are in love, don’t forget it”, without giving me a second look, but I know he is grinning like the devil himself. 

I will kill him. 

“Are you ready?”, Mei Mei asks me. With a dry mouth and still in a state of shock I nod. 

I’m the furthest away from being ready. 

After what felt like hours, we still did not manage to take a good picture. We tried different poses, tried to fake spontaneous pictures and even left the rink to take some pictures on the tribune. I cross my arms over my chest and try to remain positive. Just one good picture and I can get away from him. 

Get a grip!

The worst thing is, Satoru is a natural talent. He looks perfect on every photo, while I look- “It looks like you just met a fan!”, Mei Mei tells me: “You know you can look at him, right?” Why does everyone have to torture me? As if this entire situation isn’t awkward and embarrassing enough. 

I sigh loudly and throw my hands up in frustration.  “I’m trying”, I mutter. I can’t even look in his eyes for a second, before turning my face away and becoming a nervous wreck. 

“Then stop with this customer-service-smile!”, Mei Mei spits back. She isn’t known for having patience. 

“I don’t know, each pose seems way too unnatural. I don’t like how the pictures turn out”, even if I had been able to look at Satoru all lovey-dovey, the pictures wouldn’t give me the vibe I want. 

“Usually you aren’t being that difficult”, she adds and I want to strangle her. 

Satoru says nothing, just leaning on the edge of the rink, waiting for instructions. He hasn’t tried anything funny, but his gaze never leaves me and I am too well aware of that. 

I shake the goosebumps off. 

“I just don’t like it…”, I mumble and Mei Meis nose flares. I can tell she is angry with my behavior. 

Before the situation can escalate, Suguru suggests: “How about we try it again tomorrow with a new approach? It has no value to try and force it now, besides Satoru has a massage appointment in thirty minutes.”

I don’t want another try, I want to get this over with, but Suguru is right, as always. Whatever block I have in my mind, it is my problem and I need to fix it. I chew on nothing and act as nonchalant as possible. 

“Okay fine, tomorrow.”, I hum and want to set off, just getting out of the rink and home. But Suguru stops me just as I am about to leave the ice. “Hey, just so you know, you did well. This”, he swirls his index finger in a circle “isn’t easy. It takes time to get used to each other.”

He is so nice. I sometimes hate him for it. 

“But Satoru and you will be a great team, I can feel it”, he cracks a crooked smile at me and I smile back.

“That’s the smile I wanted!”, Mei Mei screams over and I instantly lose it, looking back and forth between her and Suguru, whose smile turns softer. 

“I will see you tomorrow”, I step off the rink and wave good-bye to Mei Mei and ignore Satorus gaze again. 

I’m such a coward. 

With a groan I fall on the couch next to Utahime, who is eating soup and watches TV. She turns down the volume and pats my head. 

“From your reaction I guess it didn’t go well.”

I just groan more into the soft cushion of the couch.

“What happened? Do I need to kill him? You know I would do it.”

Utahime was against this entire fake relationship. She can’t stand Satoru, thinking the same things as me. He’s arrogant, self-centered and reckless. And his good looks do nothing for her. 

I wish I was immune to it too. 

“No, not he is the problem. I am!”, I flip over on my back and look up at her: “I get so uptight and irritable when I am around him. I don’t know how to explain it and it affects the photos.” 

She frowns.

“You know what this sounds like?”, then she gives me a small grin. “Stop, no, it isn’t like that at all.” And it really isn’t. 

The more I think about it, the more it is clear that everything is connected to the first day we met. Hell, we nearly had sex in my car and afterwards we wanted to blackmail each other. Not the best way to start a fake relationship, but I can’t tell her. Nobody knows about any of this and I am just glad no one asked how Satoru even got a picture of his head on my thigh. I’m a good liar but I have no tale for this one.

“So what is it then?” 

“I don’t know”, I sob in my hands. Hime just keeps on patting my hair. 

“You can always quit, right?” 

Another slight fabrication I told her, so she wouldn’t get too concerned. Contractually I’m bound to Satoru until our end date. 

“Yes, but I don’t want to”, I sigh: “I just need to get a grip.” Suguru is right, it takes time to adjust to the entire case. 

I managed tougher challenges. 

I can do it. 

“And rethink this entire photoshoot. It looked like we were high schoolers going to our first prom and my parents forced us to take pictures. Maybe we should just hire paparazzi, who take the first picture of us together on a date or whatever”, I sigh, frustrated with myself. 

She still pats my head and slurps her soup, just allowing me to let my mind figure out something on its own.

“Or maybe we should just let our PR teams make it official and never post a picture. No, that’s not good either”, I grunt some more and sit up. Instead of answering me, Hime just holds a full spoon under my nose, not saying a word. I put it in my mouth and eat. She knows me. I don’t want any advice, I just want to think out loud. 

In the end I know I will find a solution. I always do. 

And if not, I still have Suguru, who seems like the true mastermind of solutions. 

He will get me. 

I can count on him. 

I spend the rest of the day running errands and buying myself a new phone using one of  Satorus cards. 

He insisted on giving me one. Not just to buy a new phone (it was his fault I threw my old one against the wall, obviously), but also for other stuff I want. I told him I don’t want his money, which he didn’t understand. Why else would I have agreed on being his fake girlfriend?

I didn’t have the guts to tell him everything Suguru and I had discussed and my five reasons, so I told him I have my own reasoning and it actually isn’t his business. 

While I said that, I got nervous again and couldn’t look at him, crossing my arms to at least look a bit confident. 

However, as I mentioned before he can see right through me and I swear to God he stared me down without saying a single word, just to make me more nervous until I had no other choice than to grab the card out of his hand and declare defeat by accepting it. 

But this arrangement has nothing to do with money. I’m not buyable. I do this to grow as a person. 

And for a new phone (again, his fault I broke it). 

After that I will put his card away and never touch it again. I do not want to be in his debt in any kind of way. 

It is better if he owes me something, which he does. Just by me agreeing to help him, he is in my debt and I would like to keep it that way. 

If he is on the edge of messing up, I can guilt trip him. If he is even really capable of feeling guilt.

At least towards me. 

I still don’t get him. How he feels towards me is an enigma. 

Does he like me? Ha, good joke. No, why should he? All we did so far was playing with one another. He wants a fake relationship with me because I’m a goody two-shoes in the public eye, not particularly because he likes me. 

Does he hate me? Also no, I would say. I don’t hate him. If I was, I wouldn’t be able to do this and so would he. 

That’s why my guess is he accepts me but doesn’t particularly like nor dislike me. Just what I feel for him. 

Yeah, because whatever I feel automatically applies to him. 

Nevertheless what I definitely know is that I am on high alert around him and he fucking knows it and uses it against me. Again a game he plays with me. Something to keep him entertained. 

Maybe that’s what he feels towards me. He sees me as a little plaything to help him through the boring time in recovery. 

So much for trying to trust him. Not even in my own weird scenarios do I give him the benefit of the doubt that he isn’t a sadistic ass. 

Does he really need me to save his career or is it all a charade? 

I can’t get this bile of a thought out of my head. He talked too much about my father, who is the coach of his archenemy team. I have the eerie feeling it is all connected to him and Satoru is lying to me. Lying that it has nothing to do with my father. 

In the end I have to accept I’m not a special snowflake like Suguru made me seem like in our conversation. Satoru could have chosen hundreds of other girls with a similar reputation as mine without the ties to one of his archenemies. 

And again, so much for trying to trust him.

Trust takes time, especially after everything Satoru and I have been through. He probably doesn’t trust me either. 

Maybe in the long run I am in the wrong and Satoru has no interior motives, but as long as I am not a hundred percent certain, I will have my doubts. 

Keep your fake boyfriend close, but your enemy closer, and Satoru is both for me. 

After all I didn’t not hear the final whistle. The match is still on and so far we have the same score. 

I fall in my bed and set up my new phone, putting in my old sim card and working through all my notifications I got over the last few days. 

It is around 11pm when I suddenly get a text message. I was just looking through pinterest for some inspo pictures for tomorrow's photoshoot as a message pops up: Come over.

I instantly know it is Satorus number. Who else would want to talk to me? 

Suguru maybe, but he would word it differently, even better call me. 

No, I know it’s Satoru.

For a second I ask myself how he knows I have a new phone but he probably can see the debiting of his card on an app or something. 

Why?, I plainly wrote him back after a few minutes of contemplating.

I fucked up, I get back and my heart stops for a second. 

Fucked up? What? 

This could mean a thousand things. 

Satoru, what did you do?, I type faster than I have anticipated. 

We didn’t even announce our fake relationship and he already messed up! 

Fuck against all odds, I should have known a wildcard like him has no chance of bettering himself. 

I go from shocked to angry as he simply answers me: Just come over and I will explain.

He doesn’t need to repeat it another time. I am on my feet in an instant, changing into one of my training skirts and pulling my snow boots on to keep my legs warm. I’m in too much of a hassle to even think about putting tights on. I would only rip them. 

How could he manage to mess up already? 

I stomp outside and use my phone light to navigate to the resort. It is cold but my anger keeps me warm as I sprint up the stairs onto the third floor. From Utahime I already know Satoru stays in room 301 so I don’t even ask him over text as I knock softly on his door. I’m on the edge of kicking it in, however I don’t want to disturb Shoko, Suguru and Ichiji, who are staying on this floor too.  

After a few seconds Satoru opens the door and without an invitation I step in. 

“What did you do?”, I walked inside his room, leaning at a wall across his bed and twitching my right leg nervously, waiting for him to finally talk. 

But as always he takes his time, closing the door quietly and entering the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed with wide legs. His hair is damp. My guess is he must have showered a few minutes ago. He wears a compress shirt, which must have been a pain to put on after having freshly showered. 

I try to only conduct that thought. 

Not how unbelievable tight it fits around his muscles and flexes perfectly with every move he makes. Focusing on his pants doesn’t work either. 

He wears grey sweatpants. That’s all I have to say.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say he does it to get a rise out of me. Nothing but entertainment for him. 

I will not give him this victory. I cross my arms and for the first time in forever I manage to look in his eyes. 

Anger wins over nervosity. 

“I fucked up”, he just repeats what he told me over text. 

I roll my eyes. “For fucks sake, what did you do?”, I want an answer now. No more beating around the bushes. A clear answer.

“I fucked up by believing in you”, his eyes wander from my exposed thighs to my eyes, looking sharp and challenging in a way.

“Eh?”, I mutter and frown, being flabbergasted. He just leans back on his elbows and stares at me. My anger leaves and my confusion mixes with the overall nervosity I feel when I am with him. I instantly can’t keep up the eye contact and look elsewhere. My mind starts to race. I can’t think of a reason why he should not believe in me. 

I mean, yeah my doubts about him are good reasons but he doesn’t know about my inner thoughts. 

Right?

Yes, right. He is not a mindreader, even though when he looks at me in this certain way I feel like he is. 

I hate his piercing blue eyes. They freak me out so much. Of course I think he can read my mind. His type of eye color would be given to supernatural beings in movies. Beings able to read minds. 

He laughs deeply and cuts me instantly out of my thoughts. I dare to look at him again. His focus is still completely on me and I clasp my arms firmer around me to calm myself down. 

“I believed you would be able to pull this fake relationship off, but you can’t even look at me.”

He noticed. 

Of course he did.

Fuck. 

I take a deep breath and act nonchalant, giving him a skittish smile. 

“You called me over in the middle of the night to tell me that? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. So what’s your problem?”, he counters. 

“I have none”, I lie. 

“Lie”, he immediately fires back.

“I was just frustrated with the whole thing, like come on. The photos looked so fabricated in the worst way.” 

“Because they are”, he blurts and tilts his head to the side, analyzing me. God, I hate his glance on me. 

“Duh, Sherlock, but it shouldn’t look like it”, I huff and turn my head to the side. 

He holds himself more up from the bed and grins: “Well, and aren’t people in love supposed to be able to look at each other?” 

I have no answer for that. I’m caught in a dilemma, again. He knows exactly how to get me and he enjoys it. 

“So I will ask again, what’s your problem?”

He won’t let go of this theme until I answer him and too bad he seems to be able to read through all my lies. 

I contemplate on trying another lie or just sprint out of his room, which would probably be easier than feeding him another fabrication. 

However I can’t run away from him or lie my way through this fake relationship. 

In the end I agreed on our deal and talking openly about my struggles is hard and even embarrassing, especially in front of Satoru, but I would rather want him to see me as an emotional fool than a wimp. 

And I would be damned to be the one quitting this deal. 

Letting him win, no. 

Even when this shouldn’t be a competition, I can’t stop seeing everything between us as a spiel. Surely I need to accept the rules have changed and now we are playing as a unit and if I go against him, it will bite me in the ass as well. 

Granted, I still don’t trust him and probably never fully will, but I need to be able to communicate with him. 

“You”, I answer quickly and give him a side-eye. That’s all I can muster. 

“Me?”

“You”, I say again without a further explanation. 

“Care to elaborate”

Not really, but I have to. I lean against the wall and I am thankful for the dime light in this room. It’s just illuminated by the bedside lamp and the moonlight outside the window. 

“Just everything”, I let it slip out and finally decided to be honest: “in the matter of a few hours we went from wanting to blackmail each other to faking a relationship. We lied, argued and I threw your lunch at you. We nearly even-”, I stop but Satoru ends my sentence: “fucked.”

“Correct.”, I bite my lip: “And I could ignore all this and try my best to move on, but you keep looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.”

I wanted to add his teasing words and touches too, but then I would have to admit this affects me and for now telling him I have a problem with the way he looks at me is enough to confess. 

Small steps. 

“I look at you like I look at everyone else”, he sits straight on the bed and has his arms crossed too. I don’t believe him, but he’s more stubborn than me. If he doesn’t admit it on his own, he will never, even when I would call him out on his bullshit. 

If he doesn’t want to be honest, I will be dishonest too.

“Good, maybe I just have a general problem with your eyes.”

“My eyes are the problem now?”

“Yeah, your freaky blue eyes.”

He laughs deeply again and his white teeth beam in the light moonshine. 

“This is a first one. People normally find my eyes quite beautiful.”

They are. 

In a strange way. 

But I would never tell him.

His intensely colored eyes aren’t the actual problem. I know it, he knows it. It is the way he looks at me with them. It would freak me out with everyone, but his special eyes make it even harder on me. 

“Okay, got it”, he smoothly gets on his feet and walks over to a shelf. Rummaging in the dark through a section he pulls out a sweat headband. I watch him curiously as he slides it over his forehead and over his eyes.

“Problem solved.”

I start to laugh in disbelief.

“This doesn’t solve anything, Satoru. You can’t forever walk around blindfolded.”

He shakes his head and stands tall, looking in my direction. 

“Not forever, just until you are comfortable around me”, he says and for whatever reason he actually seems serious. 

“This is so stupid”, I mutter and get my full weight back on my legs, no longer leaning against the wall but my arms are still crossed and the frown never leaves my face. 

“Stupid is that my girlfriend can’t even look in my eyes without getting flustered.”

“I’m not getting flustered.”

“Sure”, he buzzes and I pucker my lips at that. 

He is right, but I would never tell him.

I hate it when he is right. Which he sadly often is. 

“Are you looking at me?”, he asks as he steps towards his bed with confidence and sits down again. Weirdly enough he is good at being blindfolded. 

“Right at your blindfold”, I answer and pronto earn a smirk from him. 

“Good girl, we are making progress.”

I snort at his comment and tap my foot on the floor. 

“What now?”, I ask and curse myself for getting a heat flush in my cheeks.

Satoru pats on the spot next to him on his bed. I do him the favor and sit down, his head immediately turning towards me as my weight dents the mattress. “Personally I would suggest that you let me fuck this issue out of your brain.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.”

“How did you know?”, I look at the sweatband. It is a thick material that completely covers his eyes. No way he can see me.

“I just know you”, he grins from ear to ear. 

“Creep”, this comment even earned me a wider smile from him. 

“Yeah, your suggestion is not happening”, I quickly add before he continues his shenanigans. 

A big pout appears on his face, which gains him another eye roll from my side. For him to even suggest this out of funsies is moronic.

But what am I even expecting, he literally just blindfolded himself. 

Stupid.

Wait.

I sit next to him and look in his face without getting nervous. It works? Weirdly enough. 

God, I am pathetic. I’m really getting nervous from his stares. How did I ever win Gold medals when just his eyes make me uncomfortable? I had millions of eyes on me and it never bothered me. 

I need to get a grip. Now. 

“No, we will do something I never do when I am in bed with a woman”, he leans slightly forward into my space.

“Talk about ourselves and all this other stuff. That’s what you ladies like to do, right?”, another smirk.

“A creep and a sexist too”, this time I didn't roll my eyes. Satoru laughs heavily and lets his back fall flat onto the mattress. His arms over his head as he continues to chuckle with his shirt rolled up, exposing his lower stomach, which moves with his laughter. With all my willpower I maintain myself from looking more downwards. 

Damn, these grey sweatpants. They should be illegal. 

I would rather look into his eyes now than seeing this. This sight doesn’t just leave me nervous, it makes me think of the night in my car as I nearly said ‘fuck it’ and would have given in to him. 

Regret is a cruel thing, especially when I see how everything after that night has turned out. Nevertheless having sex with him wouldn’t have solved anything. 

Well, maybe I would be able to look into his eyes or let’s be real, I would be even more nervous around him. 

“What’s your favorite color?”, he asks out of nowhere. 

“Why?”, I ask instead. 

“We are supposed to be a couple and barely know about each other”, he extends his arm and snips with his finger against my forehead: “and hopefully knowing me will help you be more comfortable around me. We are in love after all.”

I rub the spot on my forehead he managed to brush and wonder again how he was able to do that with the blindfold on. After a while I answered him, telling him my favorite color. He tells me his too, but I already know it. Suguru mentioned it today. 

We start to talk. First about mundane things like favorite food and seasons, but we soon drift more down into past stories and our general life. Satoru lives in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, and as he told me the price for it, I nearly fainted. He has no siblings and comes from a family of real estate and financial moguls. They weren’t happy with his choice to become a professional Ice Hockey player but Satoru doesn’t care what they think. He never let them dictate his life. 

Unlike me who was put into skates the moment I learned to walk. I envy his carefree nature. The entire time we talked he was always positive, witty and completely pleased with himself, like he never regretted one thing in his life. He laughs at his own jokes before he even utters one word and he is quick with his remarks. 

He can keep up with me, which is something I appreciate in a person. Do I still think he is arrogant, self-centered and reckless? Yes, but I can see why. 

If I had his life and success I would probably behave the same way. You reap what you sow and Satoru was born to be a living victory. Our conversation made me understand him a tad more. 

After a while of talking, I lie down next to him, looking at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry for being difficult. I thought it would be easier for me”, I confess and feel him move closer next to me. His head turns and even with the blindfold on I can feel his glare on me. Slowly he spins in my direction and opens his arms. Instead of giving him the hug he seems to ask for, I only frown. 

“Stop frowning and come here.”

How does he know?

With an annoyed sigh, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to his chest, slinging his arms around me. I slightly yelp at his action but let him be as he starts to slide his hand up my back to my neck, gently rubbing circles with his thumb there. 

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. We are a team now, mate” 

“Mate?”, I grunt in disbelief. All that is left for him to do now is to give me a fist bump and hand me a can of beer before burping in my face.  

I can feel him smile into my hairline as he presses his lips against my forehead. Again, I let him. No protest, nothing. 

With him it is always against all odds.

“So what are we? We aren’t really dating, we sadly aren’t fucking and I bet you wouldn’t consider me your friend.”  

“We are-”, I pause for a good second and think. 

“We are something in between that.”

He groans lightly, dipping his nose in my hair. 

“Call me what you want, just not mate.”

As if he isn’t calling me princess every other sentence. 

“I like partner”, I add and gain another snort from him.

“What, are we a law firm?”, I push lightly against his chest, just now registering that we are really close as I particularly lie in his arms. 

“Okay, partner. I have one more question for you.”

“Mhm?”, I murmur, my eyes slightly closed as my hand stays flat on his pec. 

“Didn’t I tell you how much your little skirts turn me on?”, my breath hitches in my throat. 

“I-”, I start but never finish the sentence, heat glowing in my face. He leans down to hear me better. An act to make me more skittish. As if he doesn’t know exactly that I have no answer. 

“Don’t act coy, you knew exactly what you were doing when you decided to pull up in that outfit.” 

Did I? Maybe unconsciously. 

I try to press myself up, but he doesn’t let me go and crushes my body more into his chest. With a swift motion he rolls us to the side and hovers with his elbows next to my shoulders over me. His face inches away from mine, still with his blindfold on. The only reason I am able to look at him. 

“So let me ask you again, partner”, one of his arms travels down my side, stopping right at the end of my skirt. 

“Please let me fuck this issue out of your brain”, his fingers play with the hem of it, softly touching my skin. 

I don’t move, but my body isn’t frozen like it usually is when I am with him. This situation feels familiar, his fingers on my thighs feel familiar. It was like this when we were in my car. The same grip, the same warmth and the same rawness. I’m not sure if I can resist a second time. 

Thankfully my brain is smarter than my body. 

“This is a bad idea”, I whisper as his fingers move my skirt up my ass, exposing more of my skin. 

“It’s not, trust me. It will help both of us.”

I laugh breathlessly at his answer and stop his hand from moving in between my thighs. I love this fucking blindfold. It really helps to withstand him, but only if I keep looking at his face. Once I get his body in my sight, I will cave in.  

“How will it help you?”, I ask in a low tone. He doesn’t care about my hand holding his back from moving up. He slowly keeps going until he reaches the already soaked fabric of my panties. 

"Contractual I’m only allowed to fuck you”, he answers and it certainly isn’t written like this in our contract but in a way he is right. We aren’t allowed to have sexual contact with other people, but we can. 

I should have phrased it better. 

“and sex really helps with the enormous, gigantic, unbearing pain in my leg.”

What a charming idiot. 

Even in the dim light I see the feigned pout on his face and I would giggle at that if his fingers weren’t dipping slightly under my panties. Satoru doesn’t move his hand further in, he waits for my allowance. 

“Is that so?”, I roll my hips lightly, gaining a low hiss from him. 

“Yes.”, he snaps the hem of my panties against my skin, making me quiver. 

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?”, I blow into his ear, grazing his earlobe.

“Only if it works.”, he brushes his finger featherlight over my clothed pussy, securing a whiny moan from me.

“Where are the cameras? Want to film me a second time?”, I joke breathlessly, not able to tease him more.

“No cameras, just us. I’m serious.”, he presses his hand now on my abdomen, still waiting for my go. 

My go?

In a clear moment I realize what I’m just doing here and all my self-doubts come crashing down on me like an avalanche. I wriggle quickly back, but not entirely out of his hold. Hastily I shake my head and he can feel the movement. 

Something in his mimic switches. The playful pout is gone, making his face appear sharp and rough again. 

“Use your words”, he demands: “just say no and I will never try anything with you again, I promise.”

Instead of giving him a clear answer to his question I stutter: “What if you don’t like it?”

His forehead is immediately covered in wrinkles as he sits up, his hand appearing from under my skirt to now push down on my right hip. I know this expression so I continue to stammer an explanation: “We are on a good path, I don’t want to risk it by getting intimate.”

“I get that, but why should I not like it?” 

A logical question from his part, but a hard one to explain from my view. 

By being trimmed to be perfect all the time on ice, the urge to become excellent in every  other aspect of my life is present. Not only always looking put together, no, also always performing impeccably in everything I do. With that comes the weakness to care what other people think of me, as if to make sure my act is superb. Not only to the public, but also to people in my private life. I want to be considered perfect by them too. The fake relationship with Satoru wrench this well put together image I created of myself and it irks me. But I try to see it as a challenge to overcome it, not caring about what random people think of me. However this doesn’t apply to people I personally know. 

And I know Satoru. 

Knowing someone doesn’t instantly mean spending time with them. 

Heck, I am no virgin. I went to the Olympics. After the competitions are over, we celebrate with meaningless hook-ups. 

There is a reason the organizers put condoms in each room. 

But the keynote is meaningless. 

It was just one time and I have never seen them again. 

I didn’t have the need to perform in such a situation.

Do I still care that they thought I was good? Sure. 

But would I freak out if they thought I wasn’t? No.      

Because I certainly didn’t care at these moments. They were often quick and fun and over. A good time where I was able to finally let my guard down and enjoy being just me. 

I’m sure some of the guys didn’t even know in what segment I was competing, because I for sure didn’t know theres. In conclusion I never acted when it came to sex, because I only ever slept with a person one time. 

With that being said, with Satoru it would be different. We will spend time together. A lot of time. He knows me. Dismally the real me. 

I showed him my ugly side by being a competitive, stubborn bitch, who would have loved nothing more than to blackmail him out of my rink. 

The almost sex in my car was a performance. I wanted to trick him, so I performed in a way I knew he would like. I act and act and act to come across as perfect, but I can’t do this when it comes to real sex.

I never got complaints, but the self-doubt of not knowing for sure if I will be good, is eating me alive. I know I am good on ice, because I train my ass off. Every jump and figure gives objective points. I can count it and get a score, but intimacy is subjective. I don’t know what he likes or dislikes and even the thought of not knowing what he is thinking drives me nuts. Satoru is already an enigma to me, but bringing in the mystery of intimacy? 

No, thank you. 

Worse is, he is an expert in hook-ups. At least if I believe the tabloids. 

Screw that, I saw some of the conversations he had per DMs with some of his liaisons. He is an expert, unlike me. 

I can’t keep up this act with him. I am afraid I will slip and perform badly and this will ruin everything between us. 

In a god-awful form I would feel the need to be perfect for him, if we sleep together, because in my head he is perfect in this discipline. And now we are back at the core of all evil. My hatred for losing. Losing against him. 

What if I like it and I am certain I will but he doesn’t? I would never overcome this foul pain for failing. 

“I don’t know, it’s just a thought.”

When I’m with Satoru I mutate into an individual who’s unable to tell a good lie. 

And when it comes down to this theme, I can only try to lie. I would never tell him my real thoughts. Not with something that defines my character so harshly. Being perfect. 

“It’s a stupid thought”, he states and drops his knees to the ground, sitting in front of me, his upper body between my legs. 

I know it is a stupid thought, but it is still lingering in my mind, not going anywhere. 

“I promise I will love it.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can”, no hesitation in his answer. He truly believes it and this makes me even more insecure, even if he meant it to take my worries away. 

“How?”

His huge hands are sitting on my hips, engulfing my entire frame as he looks up at me, still wearing the blindfold over his eyes. As he leans more forward his broad chest parts my legs even more. 

“Because I actually like you.”

I can only roll my eyes at that statement. 

“Yeah right, I gave you so many reasons to like me.”

He cackles and presses his cheek on the inside of my thigh, his hands pulling me closer to the edge of the bed towards him. 

“Right, you did. You are an absolute cunt”, this bastard chuckles, slightly grazing his teeth along my soft skin. I don’t dare to breathe. 

“and that’s why I like you. The beloved, little ice princess for everyone but to me you are a treacherous, filthy wench, who likes nothing more than to see her opponents slowly decay on the ground, while standing winning over them. Fuck baby, we have so much in common. So please, I’m begging you, let me fuck this insecurity out of your brain.”

My jaw is stiff and jammed together. I should yell at him for the way he described me. 

But… indeed I give it to him, he is right about me. I’m not the pure Gold medalist I portrait myself to be.

Still his words don’t make any sense. Why would any person like me for being in his words a treacherous, filthy wench. Only psychos would find this real version better than the one I show off to the public. 

Well, I called him a psycho before, maybe he really is one.

No… I think?   

Eventually after going over his words over and over again, I have no other answer to this than: “Okay.”

And that is all he needs as he pulls me forward with such a force, my back falls flat on the bed. Even with the blindfold on, he knows exactly what he is doing. In a rush and equally eager motion he yanks my panties down my legs, not even being patient enough to completely pull them off my feet, as he arranges my legs on top of his shoulder. 

With a hunger I have never experienced with another person, he leaps his mouth unto my pussy. His flat tongue moves up from the hole to my clit, making me jolt.

“This is not-”, before I can continue, he slaps me firmly against my ass, making me choke on my sentence. 

“I decide how I will fuck your insecure, wet cunt, so shut up and enjoy.” 

I do as I’m told, but I can’t keep quiet for long. I moan his name, not caring about the others on this floor. Satoru isn’t bothered by this, he lets me be as loud as I want to be. 

Holding my hips tight, he is not letting me squirm away. Torture, everything is torture with him as he draws slow but steady circles with his tongue. I just know he likes to see me wince, even now when he is physically not able to do so with his blindfold. Feeling his devilish grin appear between my folds each time I whimper, makes me feel more and more like I’m losing. I talked about the debt I don’t want him to have over me. 

Well, that is now more apparent than ever before. I will never be able to repay him for this pleasure. I’m a hundred percent convinced.

“I already love it”, he declares before filling me up with two of his digits. I grab into his oh so soft and damp hair, wanting to feel him more. His fingers move in rhythm with his tongue. In and out, slowly like he wants me to suffer. Which I do.

He finds the right spot every time his fingers are back into me. I swear to God he knows it, by the way he can feel my inside starting to clamp around his insanely long fingers.

But he mocks, even ridicules me by not letting me come to my high. I’m so embarrassingly close to begging him. 

To please just let me cum. To please just let me finally lose, so I accept it sooner that I will be in his debt forever.  

Luckily he picks up his speed once I clasp my legs around his face, resting my heels on his hard shoulders. 

“So perfect for me”, he chuffs and every little insecurities in felt before melted right away at his words.

I won’t tell him I’m close, I just want to cum without him dragging it out over and over again. 

And he will if he knows. 

Yet, I’m not good at keeping my closeness hidden as I grind absolutely feral and needy against his tongue, shifting my hips hastily up and down. Just chasing my own peak, not caring for a second what Satoru thinks, oddly enough.

But I forgot he has done this rodeo more than enough to read a woman's body. Right as I can almost taste the pinnacle of my orgasm, he stops and bites harsh on my inner thigh. I jerk up, completely out of breath and mad. 

Oh, so mad. 

Before I have the chance to throw ruthless cusses at him, he softly kisses the spot and pushes my legs off him, tossing me downright to the side. He stands up towering over my frame on the bed. 

“What are you doing?”, I ask with teary eyes in between rapid breaths.  

“Did you forget? We are a team now and for our first play I want us to cum together.”

Still I don’t know how he knows exactly where which part of my body is, but he grab my jaw harshly and snickers: “I know how fucking much you love a fair game.”

His thick thumb presses against my lips and I let it in. A mistake. He pushes it down my tongue, trying to gag me by moving it more and more down my throat. First I can handle it, sucking on it. But Satoru is never satisfied, he always seems to take it to the extreme as he holds my throat with other hand in place, lightly choking me from the outside too. I bite down on it as I can’t take it anymore, finally being able to breathe again as I gasp for air. 

“If you ever do this when my cock is in it, you will regret it.”

Spit is traveling down my chin as I look up at him. His face is turned to mine and if he didn’t have the blindfold on his agonizing eyes would look right at me. 

“Want to give it a try?”, I counter in a challenging way and instantly hate myself for it. Satoru is unpredictable and I’m not in the state to deal with his dick down my throat when he is sullen. 

After a few long, gnawing seconds he smirks at me and I allow myself to fill my lungs with air again. 

“Another time gladly”, he just announces before stepping back and gripping the rim of his pants. Satoru hasn’t even seen my naked body, but I can see the rock hard outline on the fabric. I gulp.

“But for today I have already told you my plan.”

His pants are down and he’s not wearing boxers. I knew it from the almost sex in my car that he is huge, but seeing his cock so close in front of my very sight, I whiz down the bed. Satoru notices instantly and grabs my ankle. 

“Satoru, I will die”, I share my unfiltered thoughts with him. I know confessing this will feed his ego well, but I don’t care. 

“No one has ever died”, he wipes over his mouth, which glistens with my juice and uses it to pump his colossal cock with his other hand a few times and adds with a wide grin: “so far.”

It is way longer than the average, even with both my hands I wouldn’t be able to completely cover it. The head is soft pink which sticks out against his pale skin and is already dripping precum. His girth is massive and overall slightly curved to the left. Mother nature really has her favorites and she decided to bless Satoru more than everyone I have ever encountered. 

“Not funny”, I murmur with a dry mouth as he pulls me towards him again, leaning over me. 

“I thought you like challenges.”

“I’m serious.”, and I’m being serious.

He sighs as he slowly reaches out to my face and collects the drool I choked out before. Holding out his flat palm to me, he doesn’t even need to say a word for me to know what he wants me to do. I still hesitate. 

“Never took you as a quitter”, oh, this fucking asshole. 

He knows exactly how to rile me up.

I spit in his hand, drawing a little smile out of his focused face as he coats his length with it. 

With his range I will need all the help I can get, even when my pussy is right now more wet than she ever was. 

Casually he leans on top of me, upholds his own weight with his left arm, so he doesn’t crush me as his right hand aligns the tip of his cock with my hole. I stop squirming and let him gradually insert his tip in. I whine into his shoulder, biting down on his neck as my hands claw into his back. He gasps heavily and shows mercy by giving me a few seconds to accommodate the sensation. 

The only fucking plot twist is, I never truly accommodate to it. It feels like he is splitting me open, leaving me raw and wounded. Once he starts to roll his hips, I see stars and cry into the crook of his neck.

“Psht, my angel, trust me, it will be fine”, he holds my head in his large hand, wiping a tear off my cheek: “I was made for you and you were made for me.”

I can’t even register his lovely words as all my cells are entirely focused on his dick entering me. 

He stops the movement of his hips for a second to kiss my temple, before slowly starting to move again after I adjusted myself a bit. I feel more than full, ready to break into two. He is stretching me completely out. 

After what felt like forever, he is fully tucked in. At this intensity all I’m able to do is keep my mouth open and try to breathe so I’m not fainting. He was right, he can fuck the insecurity out of me, because my brain is not able to think in this state. Every cell is targeting what Satoru is doing to me. 

Gently he takes my hand and guides it down from my chest to my abdomen, letting me palm his bulge inside of me. I can sense it twitching and pulsating inside of me. I whimper.

“See, you didn’t die”, he tries to joke. I would like to think that he does this to smoothen my angst, but he probably means it in a tantalizing way. 

“Ready?”, he asks and the rational part of me screams No! but I want to, no, I need him to move. 

“Mhm”, I weep and wrap my legs around his waist, ready to let him in even deeper. 

“Good”, he quickly purrs and I should have known that he won’t hold back. Slipping out of me, he barges into me again in a rough and provoking manner. Completely out and back completely in. My entire body feels equally nothing and everything all at once. I’m wholly at his mercy as he picks up the speed, pulling one of my legs up his chest unto his shoulder to penetrate me even further. Babbling his name and incoherent words all together, he puts his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. I sink my teeth into his palm and grab the sheets, hoping my body will get used to it, but it never does. Unable to form a thought, just getting dumbfucked for what felt like hours.

Satoru doesn’t seem to be out of breath, while I get brain fog and grasp that not even my training for the Olympics made me feel this exhausted. 

But I don’t want this to stop, it’s painfully good and he hits the right stop each time, bringing me closer and closer but I try my best to suppress the coil forming in my insides that wants to finally be released. He wants us to cum together and he’s not there yet. My hands wander from his back to his chest under his compressed shirt, that clings even more to his body now with all the sweat and heat coating it. Once I touch his chest to caress his solid muscles and he starts to groan gravely into my ear, I can’t take it any more.

“Please, I can’t ‘ake it no more”, I sob: “Allow me to cum, please.”

He only chuckles intensely at my statement, letting his lower body crush more into mine as I feel the waves of mocking laughter.

“I said together”, he is stern again, making it clear that there is no way around. Right now I want to please him more than anything in this world, so I listen and be good.  

Picking up his pace again, I notice his thrusts getting sloppier, his groans becoming lower and sharper. 

“Now, angel. For me”, and I do as he says as he dives into me one last time, painting my walls with his warm cum. My eyes roll back into my head as I come undone. After a few seconds of breathing heavily with closed eyes I open them again and see him staring at me. 

No blindfold. 

How could I ever find those eyes scary?

“So beautiful”, at first I thought I said it outloud, but these are Satorus words.  

I push his sweaty hair back and kiss him. For what we just did, this kiss feels way too innocent, but it is the ideal ending. Shyly letting my fingers linger against his jaw, he kisses me a second time with more force but still nothing compared to the dirty kisses we shared in my car. Resting his forehead against mine, he pants lightly before giving me his usual wide flirtatious smile.

“Did it work?”

I still lie under his huge body, mouth slightly open and my mind too blown to register what he wants from me. 

I just let out a confused noise, which scored me one of his lighthearted grunts. He strokes his nose alongside mine, not breaking eye contact.

“Fucking your insecurities away?”

“Obviously”, I whisper, his eyes being the only things in my field of view. He hovers himself up and glides out of me, making me miss him immediately. 

I watch him putting his pants back on as I just lie there, unable to move. For a minute I am sure he broke something in me because I can’t maneuver my limbs. 

“No need to thank me”, he discloses with a wide smirk as he pulls my panties up and my skirt down to cover me. I’m actually glad that he isn’t cleaning me up or inviting me to take a bath in his room. I will do this on my own. The kisses were already on the edge of being too romantic. Can’t risk more.

“I wasn’t planning to”, I snap back, becoming defensive again as I lift myself up, feeling the soreness in my legs and core. As I manage to stand up with wobbly legs, Satoru watches me with a fat grin. 

“Will you be able to be on the ice tomorrow for the photos?” 

I glared daggers at him for this mischievous tone. 

“I had tougher challenges.”

“I should have really filmed this, just so I could repeat the part where you sobbed because you thought my dick would kill you.”

Asshole.

I show him my middle finger and step past him, concentrating on keeping my steps steady. I walk to the door and turn one last time around, seeing him leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. 

“This was a one time thing”, I declare, but not really believing myself either once I uttered it.

“Sure”, he replies with his mouth twitching slightly upwards. I know he is holding a simper back. 

“I’m serious.”

“And I said sure.”

I roll my eyes and open the door.

“No word to anyone”, I demand and slam the door behind me way too loudly for the time of the day. 

I hush down the stairs and stroll as fast as my aching legs allow me to home. His cum is already leaking out of me as I step under the shower. I regretted not fucking him in my car and now I wish I could say the regret I felt wasn’t worth it. I should regret sleeping with him, but I don’t. 

It was as good as winning feels like, at certain times even better. 

But I was right. It has to be a one time thing. He already cracked my body open, no need for him to get closer by doing the same to my mind. 

I let him in today. Not just in me, I mean my inner thoughts. I laid my self-doubts out like an open book while he still hasn’t shown me a bit of a vulnerable side. 

He gained the lead this night, but I’m on his heels. A second time I won’t let myself be so frail and delicate in front of him.

Never again.

The next day I wake up with throbbing legs and a raw feeling in my bottom line. I swallow two ibuprofen pills and wait for them to hit, so I can at least attempt to put my stockings on. I opt for a light grey set. No skirt, a leggings this time. I won’t be able to stand his teasing today. 

I arrive at the rink on time. Suguru is talking with Shoko as I step past them on the tribune. I wave them hello and they both smile at me before falling back into their conversation. I fall heavy on a seat and begin to loosen the ties of my skates, so I can get them on. The painkillers help but everything still feels tender and bruised. Satoru is on the ice already with Mei Mei. Once he notices me, he glides over the ice towards the tribune, ignoring Mei Meis fierce instructions. With his signature smile he walks over to me. 

“Hi”, he says before looking me up and down.

“Hi”, I mumble back, able to look into his eyes. 

“No skirt?”

“No skirt.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want a certain person to enjoy himself too much.”

He snickers and takes my skates out of my hands. 

“Can you walk?”

“No, I flew here”, I roll my eyes: “Of course I can.” barely

“Feisty today”, he catches my legs and gently guides my foot into the skates. He is so enamored in his actions that he doesn’t notice me gloom over his sudden affectionate side.   

“How are you?”, I ask him to break the silence as he ties my skate. He quickly looks up at me and tilts his head like he would have never imagined me asking him such a question.

“Good, but I’m pretty sure Mei Mei is actively trying to kill me with this training”, his hair is already sticky again from all the sweat and his pale cheeks are rosy. 

God, is he beautiful. 

I shake myself in disbelief after that thought. 

“But thanks to a certain person the pain in my leg is bearable”, he grins down as he slips me on my second skate.

“So, you and the certain person are even?”

He huffs and looks up at me after tying my second skate. 

“Not at all, I still expect a ‘thank you’ card and chocolates.” 

“Idiot”, I snarl, but end up smiling. He still kneels in front of me like he did yesterday, but this time it feels lighter, better. Like we made a huge step into the right direction for our deal to work. 

“By the way, you did great yesterday, partner”, he slaps my leg a couple of times.

I give him a dirty look and complain instantly: “You are so corny, it is unbelievable.”

Before he can counter something, probably something even more corny, Suguru shouts from a few feet away: “I got the photo!”

We turn our heads confused at his direction as he walks over to us with his phone. He shows us a picture he just took from us. Satoru with his hand on my lower leg, grinning up at me and me smiling down at him. 

A real smile. Filled with affection. 

“I like it”, Satoru states, getting back on his legs. Both men are now looking at me for approval. I nod, rambling: “it’s really good”, before Mei Mei screams at Satoru to go back on the ice and Suguru tells me he will send me the picture. I just nod again, ignoring what happens around me.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Suguru asks me this question way too often and whenever he does, I am never alright. 

The way I smiled at Satoru in this picture. 

Ayo I’m fucked. 

[findingnemosworld]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: @a-little-bit-rascal

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥.

Y/N was a firm believer of fate, that whatever occurs was predetermined for her - and apparently going through two heartbreaks seemed to be the case, and while it does not seem that big of a deal to some, for her it was; as her heartbreaks were plastered online for everyone to see, Y/N was no ordinary girl, she'd been fortunate to break through the industry as a popular actor and dancer which had garnered her a sizable following, the exact following that saw her break down and come undone only to rise and get straight to work not allowing herself to fully grief the heartbreak until she was in her hometown, and yet somehow, after those heartbreak she was blessed, and it all started the day she had been invited to attend Wimbledon.

She was seated next to a handsome brunette man, around her age dressed in an all black casual yet stylish ensemble, with sunglasses over his eyes, and it wasn't until he removed them that she realized exactly who he was - Chelsea and England's star, Ben Chilwell.

The pair exchanged small talk which quickly formed into a conversation after the event as they exchanged numbers, Ben had even taken the initiative by asking her out on a date, then another and another when time was possible, yet in the midst of those six months nearing seven, they'd never discussed the possibility of becoming anything more than just two adults casually spending time together, while she didn't fault him for not labelling their relationship ( that's if it's a relationship ) she couldn't help but feel lost.

She knew she liked him, quite a lot yet the fear of abandonment, or worse, being dumped for the third time took over, hence why she never brought it up, firmly believing that Ben didn't see them going as far as they can.

Except he did.

You see, while Y/N was stressing over the prospect of them going far in their relationship, Ben was so enamored by her that his England teammates were the unfortunate victims of his affinity for the dancer, particularly James Maddison.

" Mate " James interjects, " I know you're obsessed with her, but for the love of all that is holy, stop! "

It was then that Ben realized that he had been oversharing a bit too much, " Sorry bout that " he murmurs.

" It's fine " James said, " I understand how you feel, I mean I was like that when I first met Kennedy, and here I am, three kids in and happily in love " he grew silent before smiling, " I have an idea, why don't we invite her to come? "

" I don't know mate, she's probably busy " Ben shrugs, as he knew she had a tight schedule of performances and the fact that he didn't want to scare her by making such a big move.

" Listen, Kennedy won't be able to come because she has to watch over the kids, I'll ask her to phone Y/N and see if she can come to Poland instead " James said, then adds with an eye roll, " If she says yes, you will man up, ask her to be your girlfriend and hopefully, get me out of my misery "

____

This is ludicrous, she shouldn't have allowed herself to be persuaded like this yet here she was, at the airport in the small shop looking at something to get for Ben - all the while she was debating if she should just walk out and miss the flight, her thoughts were soon broken by a familiar sound, she looks up to see Aine May in front of her, the girlfriend of Ben's teammate, Conor Gallagher.

" Y/N " Aine May smiles, embracing her before frowning. " You alright? "

Y/N attempted to wave it off with a smile, " Yeah, I just - I was looking for something to get Ben before the flight and I ... " she trails off and swallows the lump in her throat, " Am I making the right choice? I mean, we aren't even serious and here I am acting like a girlfriend " she chuckles.

The blonde girl shakes her head, " Show me your ticket? "

Y/N complies, giving her the ticket; Aine May grins, " we are literally sitting next to one another, come on, I'm getting a new cologne for Conor since he finished his last one "

They spent the next hour roaming through to get what they felt was fitting, and then boarding the flight. Y/N's mind felt messy, yet Aine May assured her that she'll be fine, that Ben would be happy to see her as several of the other WAG's would be there, the only thing she can hope for was that Ben would be happy to see her, otherwise ... this will be a terrible idea.

______________________________________________________________

( I know England flopped in the match but let's pretend they didn't )

The teams were in the tunnel, Ben stood behind James - and while he tried his best to focus, his brain draws back to Y/N and when James turned to him, he sighs. " Mate, relax! " he said, Ben sighs and shakes his head, " I should have asked her to come, I mean ... I miss her a lot, I know I sound like a sap but it's true "

" Yes, you do sound like a sap " James sighs softly, " Now, focus on the game and who knows, maybe she did come, I mean Kennedy didn't say anything but you never know " he shrugs.

They were ushered out onto the pitch, and Ben opted not to dwell on Y/N and instead try his best to pour his focus onto the upcoming match - they'd taken the pictures and were then dispersed onto the pitch in their assigned positions, the first half was definitely intense for England as clearly Ukraine were attempting their best to score early and unfortunately they'd done just that, the goal had definitely placed a damper on them throughout the first half up until the extra minutes when they walked in.

_

Y/N was able to catch the end of the first half and was heartbroken seeing the dejection on Ben as well as the England players as they had hoped not to concede, she took her seat next to Aine May who filled her on what happened earlier, the pair continued to chat until the second half began which seemed to pan out better for England who had thankfully equalized the scoresheet thanks to Kyle Walker's goal.

At around the 58th minute, England were awarded a corner which Ben jogged up to the corner to perform, and right then; he looked up and saw her, his face lights up almost instantly and just then, he turns around executing the corner which thankfully had the ball pushed into the net by Jude Bellingham thus granting England the lead over Ukraine, and provided them with momentum to keep the match in their favor until the very end.

Aine May nudges Y/N to alert her of Ben running over to greet her, what she didn't expect was to be greeted by a warm embrace followed by a soft kiss that radiated a deep sense of longing, " I missed you so much " Ben whispers.

" Yeah? " Y/N beams.

" Thank god you're here " James interrupts them, " He was driving us mad with how much he missed you " he laughs.

" Finally mate " Jude yells with a laugh.

" God knows how long we had to sit and endure him sapping over how much he missed her " Declan joins in.

" Stop it you two " came the voice of their captain and friend Harry Kane, " it's not his fault he's in love " he chuckles.

" But he had us wanting to drive heads up the wall Haz " Jude groans.

" Yeah, plus we couldn't sleep well " Conor said.

Y/N looks at Ben who blushes, " That bad huh? "

" You can't even imagine " Ben chuckles.

[vanishingcherry]

❝ my heart desired for your love then. ❞

❝ why did you love me now ? ❞

With sirius black cuz he's known to be a notorious playboy

TOO LATE

send in a prompt from this list with a character/driver and ill write a blurb!

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

"My heart desired for your love then." Your words cut through the silence, the emphasis on the word 'then' echoing in his ears. You no longer loved him.

He expected that, it had been years and he treated you like shit. If anything he deserved this. But hearing it out loud, hearing you confirm his greatest nightmare, hurt him a million times more than he thought possible.

He had been contemplating visiting you for over a month. It had been 3 years since the two of you had graduated from Hogwarts. 3 years since he broke your heart, dating you for a few months and then throwing you away for what, at the time, he considered better.

You were walking to the great hall together for dinner, talking to one another about your respective days. When he paused in the middle of his monologue, you turned to him in confusion, before following his line of sight to a Ravenclaw girl from the year below.

"Sirius?" you say, lightly shaking his arm, keeping your eyes downcast, not wanting to make eye contact with the girl.

"Huh? Oh yeah sorry! Anyways, as I was saying..."

The week after that, you watched Sirius grow more and more distant, spending a suspicious amount of time in the library and near the Ravenclaw corridor. You knew what was happening, the very same thing had happened to you. But for some reason, you held on to hope, the naivety of your heart growing day by day.

Of course the bubble burst not too long after. He came up to you one day, claiming that it was over.

"Y/N, darling, we both know this relationship has run its course. Theres no point dragging it out any longer when we obviously aren't meant for each other. I've found someone else, and I think she's a better fit for me."

His words left no room for argument. He had walked away before you could even come up with a reply.

If there was anything he knew, it was that he regretted that moment more than anything. Regretted the way he treated you. Regretted the fact that he saw your swollen eyes and washed out face the next day, and chose to ignore it, cracking a joke with James instead.

It was killing him on the inside, knowing that he had let perhaps the most beautiful thing in his life go. That he stood back and let it happen, and didn't realise his mistake till it was too late.

When he realise he loved you, he knew he had to talk to you. Which is what led to him knocking on your door on a chilly Tuesday night, praying that you would at least be open to listening to him.

You hadn't seen him in years, actively avoiding him at gatherings you knew he would be at. Hence, it was a surprise when you opened the door and saw his face staring back at you.

Once the initial shock passed, he explained to you what he was doing at your door. He explained his love for you, his remorse. He apologised over and over. Which is what brought you back to the present.

"My heart desired for your love then. Why do you love me now?" Your tone is soft, almost pitiful.

Sirius felt embarrassed under your gaze. His confidence ripped to shreds at the realisation that his popularity at school meant nothing now. No one owed him anything, least of all you.

"I- I don't know." His voice quivers, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he tries to think of something to say. "I'm sorry, i'm sorry it took me so long to realise what I wanted. But I know now, I want you, only you."

You look down at your hands, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't hurt him. You knew better than to hold grudges in these trying times, and had forgiven him a year after your graduation. Sure, you didn't go out of your way to interact with him, in fact you did the opposite, but in your heart you had forgiven him. Nonetheless, you didn't love him anymore, didn't want him anymore.

Before you are able to respond, Sirius hears a voice call our your name. You turn your head around briefly shouting back a "coming!" to the mystery person.

Turning back to Sirius, you see his expression and try to explain.

"Sirius I- thats um-"

"It's okay." he cuts you off. "I uh, should have known. Do they make you happy?"

You give a small smile and nod at the thought of your partner.

"I'm glad. You deserve someone who treats you well." He pauses. "I'll go now, I think."

You nod once more, taking a step back to close the door. "You deserve someone who loves you too, Sirius. It may not be me, but that person is out there, I promise."

Sirius stares at your closed door for a few seconds before apparating away, a new phrase echoing in his head. I was too late.