#is there even an audience for welcome home fics??

[quibllyfish]

welcome home : curfew — part 1

every day in the neighborhood was a perfect day, but when the sun went to rest. . . what festered in the dark of night?

julie joyful has trouble getting some shut-eye! hey hey hey! this is a minific series im making as a teaser for an upcoming welcome home discord server!! if you have questions, or are interested in helping, please leave an ask or contact me in DMs. Also! Im unsure about how long this series will be. It honestly may only consist of two parts! cw :: insomnia? this is just a small drabble, so not much to worry about

[ masterlist ] [ next ]

01. the sheep wont count themselves

Everything about Julie’s life had to move fast, fast, fast in order to keep up with her. No time for second thought, no time for a breather! The biggest waste of time—in her eyes, at least—was more than a moment spent in boredom.

Whilst this philosophy often served as bewildering for other neighbors, it was tried and true for Ms. Julie Joyful! Never had she been woefully betrayed by jumping from task to task. Sitting in silence, on the other hand? Why, she just couldnt grasp how Frank could simply hunker down with a book for hours on end, nor how Wally could be satisfied spending his day gazing at a canvas.

It was nights like this one where her desire for non-stop action would almost get the better of her.

If there was one thing she (begrudgingly) knew to respect, it was the sanctity of a rulebook. In a world where the quaint neighborhood of home was nothing more than a game, being sure to get in bed by nightfall would be at the tippity-top of the rule-list! That was simply the way things had always been. Now that Julie thought about it… She didnt actually know why.

The neighbors had all speculated, jokingly, bringing reasons up in passing. Sally Starlet’s tall tale about things that go thump in the night; Barnaby’s remark about bears that resided deep in the woods (that ultimately spiraled into a drawn out practical joke). 

Tossing and turning under the covers, her mind spun into senseless tangles and knots. Perhaps she hadn't gotten enough energy out during the daytime; maybe she had indulged in one too many sweets after dinner. The fact of the matter was: she simply could not keep her eyes shut. With a drawn out huff, along with a groan, she tossed all caution and warnings to the wind.

Julie threw herself haphazardly into a sitting position, legs kicking layers of sheets and blankets away from her. 

The only thing left to figure out was: just what was there to get up to at this time of night?

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

The Nine Worlds series (Hands of the Emperor)

nothing less than the world by ariex09

At least there wasn’t an audience for the look Ludvic turned on Kip and the too neutral way he said, “Tor?”

Kip could feel himself flushing - in Astandalas this was the kind of thing that had lost him jobs before - but he had the excuse of, first of all, amnesia, and second of all, “He didn’t give me any other name!” Kip hissed. “He deflected me off the topic twice!”

-

AU where the landslide at the Liauu happens several years earlier, and the younger Kip has a rather different experience of the future.

diving for a flame pearl by ariex09

It took me an appalling three hours and thirteen minutes to even realize that Kip was gone.

Ah, but that was too charitable. Once we had a timeline together, we discovered that Franzel had seen Kip last, turning in for bed at twelve minutes before midnight, and it was not until Shoänie went to wake him at dawn that anyone knew he was anything but asleep in bed. This meant that by the time the knock on my study door came, shortly past the third hour of the morning, Kip could already have been missing for more than nine hours.

-

In which Cliopher goes missing midway through The Hands of the Emperor. Fortunately, he has friends and family willing to do whatever it takes to bring him home.

A nap at the feet of the sun by SunInGlory

Prompt: Cliopher somehow falls asleep on HR’s robe, and rather than wake him, HR has one of the guards cut that part of the robe off of him. Just looking for something soft and sweet here, but of course go in whichever direction you’d like. Bonus points if Petty Treasons era.

---

Cliopher decides to take a nap. Okay, perhaps decides is too strong of a word.

Stranger Things

Robin's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Newly Adopted Former Mean Girl by formosus_iniquis

She extends a hand, ignoring the laugh it gets her, “Welcome to Hawkins, I’m Robin, occasional Dustin babysitter.”

The girl’s smile pulls lopsided at her mouth, kissed with a bit of irony and undeniably charmed. “It’s nice to meet you Robin,” her voice is soft, and a little unsure. Wavering like Becky Simpson’s tone deaf oboe playing, unsure of what pitch and timbre to land on. “I’m Stephanie Henderson, Dustin’s cousin.”

The bit crumbles immediately between Robin’s fingers.

“Stephanie? You went with Stephanie? Are you kidding? We workshopped so many names!”

Marvel

Three Kinds of Learning by luchia

Erik intends to recruit Raven's supposedly amazing, all-powerful older brother. Instead, he finds himself dealing with Charles Xavier, a weak, tweed-addled professor who seems to think powers don't matter nearly as much as personality. Erik's misconceptions are blown apart when Raven goes missing.

SVSSS

In Durance Veil by Mikkeneko (+ podfic)

Right, the villain's beautiful daughter, who had caught a glimpse of the Protagonist from afar and, naturally, fell madly in love at first sight. She'd used her knowledge of her father's lair to sneak into the dungeon where Luo Binghe was being held and eventually proved the key to his escape, betraying her father for love. "So, you want to try to find some random girl who's willing to sneak in past the guards to Luo Binghe's prison and..."

"What random girl could we possibly trust? I'll do it myself!"

"You know what," Shang Qinghua said. "Somehow I feel like I should have expected this."

---

Shen Qingqiu self-detonated at Hua Yue City, but he didn't die. Instead, he wakes up to a world where Cang Qiong is victorious and Luo Binghe has been imprisoned beneath the mountain. What's a poor transmigrator to do? He has to find a way to free the Protagonist before he breaks out and razes the Sect to the ground! Clearly, the best way to do this is to pretend to be one of Luo Binghe's future wives.

Clearly.

Harry Potter

A Place That Fits by BitchesLoveAngstImBitches

Harry had been prepared to save Sirius’ life, no matter what the cost. Harry put himself in danger, and Sirius had come running, and it was the last thing he ever did.

And then it turned out Harry’s life wasn’t even worth saving: Neither can live while the other survives.

At the rate of Voldemort’s rising power, Harry would be lucky to survive the year.

Sirius had died trying to help Harry. He’d died for nothing.

-

Harry is struggling in the aftermath of the Ministry battle to come to terms with Sirius' death. His isolation and mistreatment at Privet Drive only make things worse. Remus Lupin checks on him in Surrey, but with both of them grieving, his assumptions about Harry might only hurt him more.

[finalgilmoregirl]

your newest mike fic has me dead on the floor omg. can you please write something with grumpy mike and his sunshine reader?

a/n : i love this concept it’s such a classic, leans towards fem!reader but no she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, lots of fluff and a smidge of angst

☆ moments in grumpy!mike x sunshine!readers relationship :

1 ౨ৎ putting on performances with abby. for a child her age, an active imagination is a given. however with the kinds of things she has experienced in her life, the possibilities are truly endless. it's not uncommon for mike to come home and see that the living room has essentially been transformed into a broadway set. and even though he's often coming home from a long shift, exhaustion be damned, you and abby still sometimes manage to wrangle him into the worlds you've created.

if you and abby are the knights of opposing royal courts, he is the jester. if you two are witches, he is the evil henchman. if you're competing fighters, he's the referee. if you two are ballerinas, he is the judge (and he always chooses you as the winner).

but no matter how many times you and abby tell him that he has to do the voices too, he still won't learn. he's essentially just an audience member of your theatrics, sitting on the ground in whatever costume one of you have placed on his shoulders and simply trying to fathom how to two people can have so much energy at the end of the day.

2 ౨ৎ grumpy!mike is your own personal bodyguard. although your sunny aura is extremely welcoming on its own, the constant frown on his face is enough of a signal for a person to turn and walk the other way the moment they notice him next to you.

he's often uncomfortable in public, too aware of his surroundings and overanalyzing everyone's actions. this results in his having a hand on you at all times to calm his nerves, whether that be with your hands clasped together, his hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulder. at first glance the two of you could look like complete strangers that just happen to be in close proximity to each other, but the second mike turns to look at you and his expression softens, it's obvious the two of you are in love.

3 ౨ৎ for the first few weeks of you and mike getting to know each other, he’d never really smiled. sure, he was always kind and polite but the most he would give to express joy was the raise of his eyebrows and the tiniest bit of an amused smirk. so of course when you had been in the middle of recounting a story and mike had laughed, smiling with all of his perfect teeth on display, you were pleasantly shocked.

"so that's what that looks like." you grinned at him, earning a tilt of his head in return.

"what does what look like?" he asked.

"your smile." mike was quick to blush, coughing and looking down for a moment to try and regain his original composure, but before he could feel too embarrassed you continued, "i like it, you should do it more often."

from then on you couldn't get enough of his smile, always trying to make him laugh. which as serious as he is, deep down he lived for it, just basking in your joy and the fact that he was the cause of it.

4 ౨ৎ that being said, mike has a bit of a temper and you know that, taking his waves of bad moods in stride and trying your best to cheer him up, but sometimes he gets so riled up that there’s only so much you can do to help, and mike loses patience.

it’s very rare when he snaps at you and when he does he almost immediately regrets it after seeing how it effects you.

the ever-present smile you hold that has the power to lift everyone’s spirits falls in an instant when one of his outbursts catches you off guard. your eyebrows furrow and you look down to try to keep your own composure. you know he’s not actually mean, at least never to you. you pushed him too hard, you think to yourself and it’s in this moment that mike snaps out of his rage, like a demon that was possessing him had left his body and all he feels is his heart ache.

here you are, the light of his life and he’s the reason you’re not smiling. he rubs his palm over his forehead and reaches out for you, “fuck, i’m sorry” he sighed, “i don’t know why i yelled”

you feel his hand hover over your shoulder and look up, seeing his face full of regret. you reach your hands up and hold his face, which mike immediately melts into, his hands moving to hold your waist. he grabs you tight, desperate even, thinking that if he lets you go you'll leave and he'll lose you for good.

“i know baby. you’ve just had a bad day, i shouldn’t have pushed you.” you sympathize with him, to which he shakes his head.

“yeah but that’s not an excuse, you just wanted to help and—" he pauses and sighs, disappointed with himself, "i’m grateful for that. i love that you care about my problems, no matter how stupid they are.”

you smile gently at his confession, and a weight is lifted off of his chest.

“they’re not stupid. plus, i know you’d do the same for me. you can groan all you want about it but deep down you’re the biggest softie i know.”

mike rolls his eyes playfully, and leans his forehead against yours, “only to you.”

you giggle and connect your lips to his, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away and whispering, “yeah, i’d hope so.”

thanks for the request ☆

[amakumos]

kiss and cry — yang jungwon.

synopsis. At the age of 22, Yang Jungwon wants to retire. The ice, which was what he considered his second home, does not seem as welcoming as it used to be. Figure skating is no longer fun - the sport that he devoted his entire childhood to seems more of a chore, rather than a passion. He claims that this season will be his last as a competitive figure skater - that is, until he meets you, who somehow makes him fall in love with the ice (and you) again.

genre. fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, slowburn (?), figure skating au

pairing. figure skater! jungwon x figure skater fem! reader

warnings. swearing, mentions of injury, coaching abuse and unhealthy training habits, jungwon is 22, reader is 21, and both compete for south korea. set during the 2025/2026 figure skating season. major character retirement (wait and find out)

word count. 22k

author's note. gosh. am i surprised that the most i've ever written is a figure skating fic? no, not particularly. i was watching so many of yuzuru hanyu's programs while writing this and oh god. only fanyus will understand the immense impact the beat drop into the chsq has in pyc seimei. fucking hell that's powerful. anyways, this fic is my baby and i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ^_^ here's a playlist u can listen to while reading if you'd like and feel free to lmk what u think!

ONE. negative (goe.)

Where is home to Yang Jungwon?

Jungwon thinks that he has two.

First, he would obviously say his apartment. The plush couch, the comfort of his own bed, and sunlight peeking through the curtains in the morning – Jungwon is comfortable when he is home. 

His second home, albeit a little bit unconventional – is the ice skating rink. His blades gliding against the smooth ice, cool air hitting his face as he skates, the chatter of his training partners ringing in his ears when he’s trying to focus that he finds annoying when he’s trying to focus. 

But his second home seems a little less welcoming and comfortable lately. The passion that he once held for the sport that he loved seems to be diminishing day by day, like a fire that’s almost been put out. 

Jungwon devoted his entire life to this sport. Maybe a little too much of it, even. 

His childhood was seemingly swept away by the ice. Instead of running around the playground, making friends with other children his age, Jungwon was spending hours of his day jumping and spinning, wearing boots with blades on them.

At one point, even falling over on a jump that he’d have to repeat for hours seemed like something he could use as determination. I’ll be able to do it the next time I jump it, was his thought. 

But now, when he falls, all he feels is that he wants to quit. 

Jungwon knows that if he gave up that easily when he was younger, he wouldn’t even be half the figure skater he was today. Standing on top of that podium didn’t bring him the same amount of joy as when he stood there a couple years ago. A small smile would grace his lips, showing courtesy – but deep inside, Jungwon could only describe the feeling he felt as numbness. 

Because what did all these medals truly mean to him? Success brought him joy a couple years ago, but now it only puts pressure on him. 

Pressure to do better. Pressure to get the scores that he deserved. Pressure to show the other skaters that he was better. 

Figure skating is no longer fun for Yang Jungwon. 

The sport feels draining – as if every minute spent skating on that sheet of ice sucked all the energy out of him. The movements that he did with such vigour just a couple years ago now seem sloppy to him, even if they aren’t to the audience. His limbs move around robotically, without elegance or gracefulness. 

Yang Jungwon feels like a robot. 

Programmed to do this quad lutz at a certain moment. Programmed to execute the hydroblade to perfection a few seconds later. Even programmed to smile brightly, holding up the gold medal while standing at the top of the podium when he doesn’t feel a single emotion at all. 

So, Jungwon thinks it’s time to hang up his skates. 

Yes, 22 might be a little too early to end his career as a competitive figure skater, but Jungwon is done. He’s tired of the ice, which is something that he never thought he’d say, or even think. The ice doesn’t bring him joy, and competitions don’t bring the adrenaline and thrill that he’d used to feel. Winning doesn’t make him feel pride. Instead, he feels burdened. 

“Next season will be my last season as a competitive figure skater,” he tells his coach, Irene. 

Irene isn’t shocked. But she’s strongly against Jungwon’s decision. Jungwon knew she’d react like this. 

“You’re so young, Jungwon! You still have a couple of years to go – you can make it to the next Olympics too. You’ll be 26 then, and you can… you know, retire after skating at the biggest stage.” 

“I will be skating at the biggest stage next year, if I make it into the Olympic team. Then, I will be retiring at the biggest stage.” Jungwon tells her, lacing up his skates. Even tying the laces feels frustrating – and Jungwon knows that he truly does not want to do this anymore. 

“But you have to give a reason, Jungwon. I know you’re tired, and you lack passion for skating, but why don’t you just take a break? Maybe you’ll regain your motivation, regain your passion for the sport. You’re already one of the greats – you could be even greater.” 

Irene would consider Jungwon to be her star pupil. He’s stuck with her ever since he swapped coaches when he was 8 – and he’s never spoken a word about wanting to be coached by anyone else. In fact, Jungwon was one of Irene’s first students after she herself retired from competition. Jungwon was her first student to podium internationally, first student to land a quad in competition, and first student to make it to the Olympics in 2022, back when Jungwon was 18. 

He placed 6th. Not bad, for his first ever Olympics. 

Jungwon remembers the day when he was called up to the South Korean Olympic team. All he felt was pride. On every young athlete’s bucket list, being able to compete in the Olympics was at the top of that list, and Jungwon was no exception. He remembers being an emotional wreck, crumpling into tears of joy. The Olympics was a figure skater’s biggest stage. Skating on Olympic ice seemed unreal, until Jungwon found out that he would be doing exactly that. 

Jungwon wants to feel the exact feeling he felt when he skated on Olympic ice. He wants to feel pride, passion, and joy – not emptiness. Jungwon knew that he was competing with the best of the best, and a medal at the Olympics would be incredible, but Jungwon just wanted to skate. The Olympics seemed to be like a mark for him – he’s made it. He’s skated at the biggest stage for an athlete, and no matter the result, he would be grateful and happy that he was able to compete on Olympic ice. 

4 years ago, Jungwon just wanted to skate. 

Now, Jungwon wants to leave the ice behind. 

You could be even greater. Irene’s words have no impact on Jungwon. He doesn’t think he has any desire to become greater. If anything, Jungwon just wants to learn how to love this sport again – but he doesn’t think that he’ll be able to. 

“That’s the problem, Irene. I don’t want to be greater anymore. I’m tired of this. I have no passion in what I do – why would I continue doing something that I don’t love?” 

“Jungwon–”

“I don’t think anything can change my mind, Irene. I’m really done,” he sighs. Jungwon gives his coach a small, sad smile. “So… let’s make the next season great, hmm? I’ll go out with a bang.” 

Irene gives Jungwon a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay.” 

“I have music ideas already,” Jungwon says, and Irene nods. “Tell me what you have in mind, and we can go through it with Taemin.”

“I was thinking for the short program, A Walk In The Skies by Joe Hisaishi. From the Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack, and for the free, World Dreams. Also by Joe Hisaishi. A couple fans from a few years back told me that they’d like to see me skate to those songs, so… I’ve decided I will. They gave me a list of other options, but… I like these two the best.” 

“Okay. I’ll talk with Taemin about them.” Irene says, and Jungwon notices the look on his coach’s face. He knows that she’s not happy with his decision, because Irene’s never really liked people who give up. Jungwon thinks that to her, his decision seems to be as if he’s saying that he’s giving up. 

In one way, he is. But now that Jungwon thinks about it, does he have any other goals in this sport? He’s won Nationals. He’s won Grand Prix Final. He’s won Four Continents. He’s won Worlds. He’s been to the Olympics. The one thing he hasn’t done is win an Olympic medal, and maybe he’ll be able to do it next season. But Jungwon thinks that he’s checked off most of the boxes on his figure skating career goal list, and combined with the fact that he’s simply got no love for the sport left, he thinks hanging up his skates is the best idea. 

He gives Irene an apologetic look, even though he feels like he doesn’t really have to apologise for anything. He then makes his way onto the rink, skating a few laps around to warm up. 

He skates his program from last season as practice, first jumping a quad salchow that he lands cleanly. The sound of the blades scratching the surface of the ice no longer brings him comfort, but Jungwon continues skating around the rink as he enters into a back counter triple axel, landing it cleanly as well. 

Jungwon executes the rest of the elements well, with no falls or underrotations on his jumps. He presses his lips into a thin line when he finishes skating his program, putting his hands on his hips as he sighs. 

“That was good.” Irene said. “Gold medal worthy.” 

“Thanks.” Jungwon replies. He would usually feel nothing but joy when Irene would compliment his skating like that. 

But Jungwon finds that a gold medal is something he does not desire anymore. 

TWO. triple double camel spin axel 

The off-season is great. 

The pressure of competition is gone, and you’re able to rest without intense preparation and training for a couple weeks before you’re back to your usual routine. 

You do decide to head to the rink today though, just so you can get in some skating time with your new coach. 

Irene Bae was your idol growing up. When you saw her skate at the Olympics from the comfort of your own home at the age of 4, you knew that you wanted to be like her. Graceful and elegant, yet powerful and strong on the ice.

Your parents enrolled you in skating classes at the age of 3, and it was like the ice was practically calling your name. Your first coach, Hyuna, had told your parents that you had talent — and encouraged them to let you continue skating. 

And so you did. As the years went by, what your first coach said proved to be true — you did have talent. You won medal after medal, and you were said to be a rising star. 

So when the opportunity arose for you to be coached by none other than your idol, you of course had to take it. 

When she complimented you on your skating, you nearly screamed. Having the person you’ve admired for your whole life telling you that you were doing great gave you a huge confidence boost — and you’d like to think that her words encouraged you and made you do even better than you usually did during your free skate at Worlds.

Being coached by the Irene Bae seemed surreal. She won one silver, one bronze medal at the Olympics, was a 2 time worlds winner and a six-time national champion. She was even known for being an incredible coach, coaching skaters like Yang Jungwon, and Kim Jiwon — who would now be your training mates.

You feel nothing but excitement when you enter the Taereung International Skating Rink, and you hear the sound of blades across ice that brings a smile to your lips. You see Irene, standing rinkside with her arms crossed, and skating on the rink, is Yang Jungwon.

Yang Jungwon’s made quite a name for himself in the last few years. 6th at the 2022 Olympics, a great finish for someone who was only 18 at the time. He also just won Worlds, and was a five-time national champion. 

Yang Jungwon is an incredible skater. His movements on the ice are as fluid and soft as water, but when he jumps, he’s incredibly powerful, like a rocket taking off. You’ve seen many people say that Jungwon’s one of the few ‘complete skaters’ — those who can combine artistry with jumping seem to be extremely rare nowadays. 

He’s one of those skaters that can get you mesmerised the second he steps onto the ice, and when he finishes his program, loud applause resounds throughout the arena, with tons of people throwing cat plushies onto the ice.

Jungwon is incredibly talented. Thinking about the fact that you two are going to be training mates brings a smile to your face — all the conversations you’ve had with Jungwon went quite well. You remember his pleasant voice and his kind smile, the one where his eyes crinkle into crescents and could make anyone swoon. 

You make your way over to Irene, who turns her head and greets you with a kind smile when she sees you. “(Name)!” she beams, wrapping you in a hug. “Nice to see you.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Irene!” you say, and she smiles at you. “I’m excited to be working with you.” she tells you, and her words just fill you up with joy.

“Thank you so much,” you beam. “I’m excited to be coached by you.” A smile graces Irene’s lips at your words. “Jungwon’s on the ice right now, with Taemin. He’s just learning the last part of his choreography for his short program for next season.” she tells you, and you nod.

“Jiwon’s gone for lunch break, and Eunchae and Jongseob should be somewhere around here… you can go meet with them and say hi later.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Irene!” Taemin, the choreographer, calls out to her. “Jungwon’s got this. He’ll absolutely kill it.” 

You notice how Irene and Taemin’s smiles seem wider than Jungwon’s when Taemin says that. The smile plastered on Jungwon’s lips barely reaches his eyes. 

“Why don’t you go lace up your skates? You and Jungwon can share the rink.” Irene suggests to you, and you nod. You find a seat, pulling out your skates from your skate bag as you take your regular sports shoes off, slipping into your skating boots. You tie the laces incredibly quickly — after all, you have been doing this for years.

You take off your skate guards, leaving them on the bench as you skate onto the rink, skating laps to warm yourself up as you put your gloves on. 

Somewhere along the way, you find yourself accompanied by Jungwon, who catches up to you. “Hey,” he says. “Heard that Irene’s coaching you now.” 

“Yeah,” you beam. “We’ll be training mates from now on, huh?” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Saw you practicing your short program for next season… you’ve started quite early. Howl’s Moving Castle soundtrack?” 

“Mhm,” Jungwon says. “I like to get started earlier, so I’m more familiar with it when it’s time to compete. Do you have any ideas for the music you might skate to?” 

“Oh, I’ve got no idea. My friend told me to skate to Bolero, though.” you say, and you see Jungwon grimace at your words. You let out a loud laugh that makes Jungwon chuckle. “Bolero? Really?” he asks.

“Riki knows nothing about figure skating, but I think he goes on Twitter to find what music people hate seeing skaters skate to the most… Bolero is definitely one of them, which is probably why he recommended it to me.” you laugh. “Once he even asked me if I could do a ‘triple double camel spin axel’. Like what in the world is that?” 

Your words make Jungwon burst into laughter, and you think it’s one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard.

“A triple double camel spin axel? Your friend might just have invented a new jump.” he quips, and you nod. “Are you ready for the Olympics next year?” he asks you, and you shake your head.

“Who says I’ll make it?” 

“Of course you’ll make it. Your skating’s great.” Jungwon says, and you thank him. “You’ll definitely make it. To next year and the one after. You’ll probably make it to the one in 2034 too.” 

“Hah, that’s funny. But no, I won’t be making it to the 2030 or the 2034 one. It’s probably nice to think about, though.” Jungwon replies. 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why? I mean... maybe 2034 is a bit of a stretch, but surely the 2030 one.” 

“I’m retiring after this season.” 

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at his words. Yang Jungwon was going to retire? At the age of 22? Was he joking? 

You almost can’t believe it.

“What? Why?” 

“I don’t like skating anymore.” he hums, and he says it so casually. “It’s more of a chore now, rather than something I love. I guess I fell out of love with the ice.”

You can somewhat understand how he feels. You had burnout too, but you never got to the point where you wanted to quit. You just wanted to take a break, to refresh your mind and to take care of your health and body. 

But Jungwon sounds like he’s determined to quit. As if nothing will get him to change his mind.

“What would it take for you to fall back in love with it?” you ask.

Jungwon shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t think anything would be able to change my mind at this point. Skating is just so incredibly… draining. I want to enjoy it as much as I used to, but I just don’t think I can continue competing.” 

He sounds like he’s truly given up hope on finding love for the sport again, and it makes your heart ache. Yang Jungwon is undoubtedly one of the best figure skaters you’ve ever seen, and to see him possibly end his career because he just simply ran out of love for the sport saddens you. 

And for some reason, you want to try and get him to fall back in love with the ice again. 

So with a sudden burst of confidence and determination, you decide to ask him: “Are you free any time next week?” 

Jungwon looks at you, puzzled. “Yes?”

“I’m going to try and get you to fall back in love with the ice.”

“(Name), I’ve made up my mind—” 

“That’s fine. I just want you to enjoy skating again. No competition, just having fun. You know, I was in the audience the day you won the Grand Prix final two years ago. You looked so, so, incredibly happy — I want you to feel the same feeling you felt when you were skating on that ice.” 

Jungwon looks at you hesitantly. “You’d do that for me?” 

You nod. “We can get to know each other better too. What do you say?” 

Jungwon pauses for a moment to think. 

“Sure.”

You beam at him. “Cool. I’ll give you my number after practice and we can make arrangements.” 

Jungwon nods, and you two end your conversation there, focusing on training instead. 

As you land a clean triple salchow-triple toeloop on the ice, you add a new goal to your bucket list.

Get Yang Jungwon to fall in love with figure skating again.

THREE. seal skating aid

You meet up with Jungwon two days later at a public skating rink with a bright smile on your face. 

He looks confused when he sees the amount of people who have come to the rink today. “How are we supposed to skate with this many people here?” 

You smile, lacing up your skates. “We can still skate. We just can’t jump.” 

Jungwon looks hesitantly at you. “But skating laps is boring,” he says. “How am I going to fall back in love with skating like this?” 

“Because,” you say. “This was how you first fell in love with it as a kid. You didn’t know how to jump, how to spin, or how to do spirals. Sometimes doing simple things, such as just skating around the rink can be fun. There’s no pressure of needing to execute certain elements properly — look at everyone skating here today. They’re just here to have fun.” 

Jungwon looks at the people skating on the rink. There’s a bunch of couples, holding hands as they enjoy their date. There’s also lots of kids taking classes, learning how to balance on their skates just like he did when he was younger. There’s also two or three people who do seem like they’re good skaters, and Jungwon spots one of them doing a Biellmann spin right in the middle of the rink. 

And you are right. This was what the first rink Jungwon stepped on looked like. The rink he skated on wasn’t as busy as this, but sure enough, there were couples, kids that were learning to skate, and people like the girl doing the Biellmann spin was what made him think that he wanted to be able to do something like that. 

You motion for Jungwon to join you as you step onto the ice, and he does. You two skate around the rink slowly — much slower than Jungwon is used to. He sees a couple of young kids who seemingly recognise you and him, pointing you two out to their friends.

“You’re famous,” he says, chuckling. “You’re more famous, Mr Placed 6th In The Olympics.” you reply, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s still 6th. Not a podium finish.” he says, and you sigh. “6th is crazy good for an 18 year old. Plus, you were competing with the greatest of the greats.” 

“That’s true, I suppose.” Jungwon muses. “I’ll just do better this year. Might as well go out with a bang, hmm?” 

“I guess so.” you say. 

Jungwon looks around him, seeing little kids who are seemingly learning how to skate for the first time struggle with their balance. He discreetly motions for them to put their arms out and bend their knees, to which they do. They seem to balance a lot better, and Jungwon gives them a soft smile.

Those kids remind him of himself when he was first learning how to skate. A helmet perched on his head with his knee and elbow guards on, and rental skates that Jungwon would never even dare to wear now. He ran onto the ice, falling over — then getting back up. Falling over, then getting back up.

When it comes to skating, Jungwon now feels like he’s fallen. And he can’t seem to just muster the strength to get himself back up. 

Perhaps you will be able to get him to ignite the passion that he had for figure skating once again, but there’s a chance that it won’t happen. 

Jungwon realised that it hurts to fall out of love with the very thing you sacrificed your entire life for. His childhood was spent at the rink, doing the one thing he knew best — skating. Now that he realises his passion for the sport has crumbled away, all he can ask himself is: was it worth it?

Jungwon wants to say yes. But he isn't quite sure if he believes that now, considering that the ice no longer feels like home.

“You’re thinking a lot.” you hum, and Jungwon nods. “I was just thinking about… how I started.

You motion for him to go on.

“I used to love skating. I loved it more than anything,” Jungwon says, staring at the ice. He once said that the boots on his feet somehow felt molded to his body, since he wore them so much. But now, these exact boots are uncomfortable — they are suffocating, and Jungwon knows that when he's under the pressure of competition, he’ll want nothing more than to take them off. “But now, I just feel emptiness. And I’m just thinking… what could’ve gone wrong?”

“I don’t think anything went wrong,” you reply. “I think you pushed too hard. Like you said, you devoted your entire life to this sport. Even the brightest of flames burn out. You just have to find the thing that’ll be able to light it back up again.” 

“That’s poetic.” Jungwon says. “Being a poet was my backup career option, if this whole… skating on knife boots thing didn’t work out.” you quip, and Jungwon cracks a smile.

“This conversation got deep,” Jungwon says. “Sorry for bringing the mood down. I know we’re here to have fun.” he says, and you shrug. “It’s alright. Maybe letting out your feelings about it will help too,” you say. 

“Maybe,” Jungwon says. “But I think I’ve been thinking about them too much lately. I need to try and rid myself of these emotions, because I’ll just end up overthinking and I’ll end up spiralling.” 

You nod. “That’s fair.”

You then spot a seal shaped skating aid, and you look at Jungwon with a twinkle in your eye. You skate a little faster to get to it, and you bring it back to where Jungwon’s standing, and you motion for him to sit down.

“What?” Jungwon asks, confused.

“Sit down!” you beam. “I’ll push you around the rink.” 

Jungwon reluctantly sits down, burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment. He feels like he’s 4 years old, with his sister pushing him around the rink. But he also remembers how fun it was, the cool air hitting his face as loud music played from the speakers in the rink. Christmas music, Jungwon remembered it being.

“I’m gonna push you now,” you say, and Jungwon nods. You start skating, and you begin to skate faster — your blades scratch across the surface of the ice as a small smile begins to make its way across Jungwon’s lips.

Jungwon never thought skating laps could be so… fun. It’s like he forgot this feeling — skating with no jumps, no spins, no spirals. Just moving forward. It was so simple.

Simple is fun, Jungwon realises.

Simply skating forwards seems more exciting than the intricate movements he has to make. He doesn’t need to worry about possibly falling on a quad, he doesn’t need to worry about underrotating a jump, or getting an edge call — he can just skate. 

“Wait,” Jungwon suddenly says, and then you stop.

“Let me push you,” he says, getting up. You nod, plopping yourself down onto the seat as Jungwon grips the handle on the skating aid, which is shaped like a seal’s tail.

Jungwon starts skating, pushing the skating aid forward. He skates around the rink, moving faster with each lap he makes, and you put your hands up as if you’re riding a rollercoaster.

“This is fun, isn’t it?” you ask.

Yes, Jungwon thinks. This is quite fun. 

Despite just skating laps in a public skating rink, Jungwon thinks this might be the most fun he’s had on the rink in the last year.

FOUR. one ice show, two realisations

You see Jungwon two days later at the rink. 

He waves at you from the ice, taking a sip from his water bottle. His phone pings with a message, and he picks it up to view the text.

His fingers fly over the screen as he types a response while you lace up your skates. “Who’s texting?” you ask, skating onto the rink.

“Oh, just Yuzu.” 

“You’re talking about two-time Olympic gold medalist Yuzuru Hanyu?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah. We’re friends.” he says, placing his phone back onto the bench. 

“What’d he say?” you ask — you don’t mean to be nosy, but Jungwon seems more than comfortable with telling you what the Japanese figure skater had texted him about. “Fantasy on Ice,” Jungwon replies. “The organisers wanted to reach out to me and ask me to join them on the tour, so he probably texted to give me a heads up.” 

“You should definitely do it, Jungwon!” you smile, and Jungwon purses his lips. “I don’t know.” he says, and he seems hesitant to accept Yuzuru’s offer.

You cross your arms. “Remember, it’s not a competition. Ice shows are meant to be fun. It doesn’t matter if the performance isn’t perfect — as long as you're having fun, and the audience is having fun, then that’s all that matters.” 

“Right.” he gulps. “I just haven’t done an ice show in a while.” 

“It’ll be a good experience to have, Jungwon. You can get rid of the pressure to prepare everything for next season and just enjoy skating, and you can go make new friends too.” you say, and Jungwon seems to consider it.

“I only have one gala program prepared.”

“Choreograph a new one.”

“Taemin’s busy.” 

“You don’t have to ask Taemin. Choreograph one yourself.” you suggest, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to do that.” 

“Jungwon, you’re an artist. You can come up with something.”

“It’ll be bad.” 

“Have some confidence in yourself,” you say, patting his shoulder. “You won’t know if you’re good or bad at it until you try, right?” 

Jungwon gulps again. “Right.” 

“So are you going to take up Hanyu’s offer?” 

Jungwon shrugs. “Maybe.” 

“Make that maybe a yes,” you say. “Really, skating in an ice show might help you enjoy skating again. Trust me. The crowd hypes you up, the skaters are all supportive, and it’s just a really nice environment to be in.”

Jungwon ponders the idea for a moment. Maybe he should really do this ice show. He hasn’t performed in a non-competition capacity in a while, excluding the galas after competitions. Now that he thinks about it, it seems nice to skate without the pressure of competition.

But the little voice in his head tells him that he absolutely needs to work on his programs next season. He wants to go out with a bang — he can’t do that if he’s underprepared.

Then your voice rings in his head. Fuck it, he hears you say.

A few shows can’t possibly hinder his performance that much. And it’s not like he won’t get any practice time in, and he’s already learnt the choreography for both programs… so it shouldn’t be a problem… right? 

Jungwon wants to love skating again. 

Maybe an ice show is the second step out of many in his quest to possibly find his love for skating again.

“Okay.” he says, picking up his phone. He moves his thumb over Yuzuru’s contact, typing an ‘I’d be interested’ before sending it without hesitation. You look pleasantly surprised, a smile on your lips as he places down his phone before looking at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up into a small grin. 

“Nothing,” you say, looking down at your skates. “I’m just happy you’re trying to regain your passion for this sport.”

Jungwon hums. “Yes. I hope I will be able to.” 

“I hope you can too.” you say. “This ice show might help you change your mind.” 

“I just wanted to ask you — why did you offer to help me try and love the ice again?” he asks, and you purse your lips. 

This conversation is not an easy one to have, you think. 

“I guess it’s because I’ve been through something similar,” you start. “There’s a whole backstory to this, so I might as well tell you. I was 13 when I started being coached by Seo Minju.”

When you brought up Seo Minju, Jungwon knew that what you were about to say was not going to be pleasant at all. A couple of friends Jungwon had were also coached by Seo Minju, and had ended up getting multiple injuries — and some even had to retire early. 

“I trained… way too much, to say the least. More than you do now. I was breaking my body and my mind from the inside out, training even though I was — excuse my language — fucking exhausted. There was a point where in the middle of JGP Courchevel, I felt like I’d black out after I did a triple axel.” you say, and pressing your lips together in a thin line as you relive the memories that you’ve always wanted to forget. 

“And I was in so much pain. I don’t know how I still trained with that much pain — I guess it was Seo who tried to make me keep going. Then one day… I just fractured my ankle,” you gulp, as Jungwon looks at you with his eyebrows knitted together, and his eyes seem to be watery. 

“The doctors said my career could have ended. That was the most terrifying thing to hear as a 14 year old kid. I had to rest, heal, and I couldn’t be on the ice for months. I swapped coaches, almost immediately after I got the diagnosis. And when I was told that I could go back onto the ice again, I was fucking terrified. I was scared that one wrong move would end my entire career for good.”

You sigh. “It took me months to heal. I still loved the ice — but my fear of it seemed stronger than my love for it. I had to relearn new techniques, get back my triples… that’s why I disappeared for a whole season. And when I managed to become comfortable with the ice again, I kind of just started thinking in a different perspective. I guess I kind of just want you to maybe think of the sport differently than the way you see it now. Because at the end of the day, when we decided to start, it was because we loved it, right?” 

Jungwon finds that a tear trickles down his cheek after you finish speaking. “Don’t cry,” you say, a frown on your face. “I’m okay now.” 

“I’m so sorry.” he says, and you smile. “It’s okay. I just kind of always have to remember to take more care of this ankle right here,” you say, pointing to your right ankle. “My problem child.” you quip, trying to lighten the mood.

Jungwon’s only gotten to know you better in the past few weeks, but he thinks that you’re the most incredible and most admirable person he’s ever met. And the fact that you would go out of your way to try and help him enjoy skating again — it makes warmth bloom across Jungwon’s chest and fills him with nothing but happiness. 

He thinks he’ll be eternally grateful for you.

“Come here,” he says, arms held out to pull you in a hug. You skate closer to him, and he wraps his arms around you, and you do the same, wrapping your arms around him.. Jungwon’s hugs are comforting, and you feel nothing but warmth despite you both standing in the middle of an ice skating rink.

He smells like fresh linen, you realise.

You also realise that you don’t really want to let go.

FIVE. spiralling 

You receive a message from the Fantasy On Ice organisers a few days later as well, asking if you’d like to join them on tour.

Of course you say yes.

Jungwon seems more cheerful lately. His mood dampens a little bit when he’s on the ice, but it seems barely noticeable to Jiwon and Jongseob — maybe you're just extra attentive when it comes to him.

Jungwon will admit that he is feeling a little bit better. Skating to a program that he knows he doesn’t have to compete with is freeing, fun even. But the little devil on his shoulder keeps pestering him, telling him that he has to focus on next season’s programs.  

Jungwon tells the devil to fuck off.

He heads back to his apartment, the weight on his shoulders slightly less heavy than it was a couple weeks ago. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might get to love skating again.

When he opens the door, he’s surprised by his cousin, Wonyoung, who stands in front of the door with balloons in her hands. “Congrats on your Worlds win!” 

She pulls Jungwon in for a hug. “You’re two weeks late, Wonyo.” he jokes, and Wonyoung scoffs. “I texted you, because I was in Paris and I couldn’t come watch you.”

“I know, I know.” Jungwon says, putting his skate bag away before he flops on the couch, Wonyoung sitting next to him. “How’s skating?” she asks.

“Terrible,” Jungwon responds. “Well, not entirely. But 90% terrible.” 

Wonyoung looks surprised. “What? You just won a major competition though.”

“Yeah. I guess. But it’s not exactly fun anymore,” Jungwon sighs, and Wonyoung frowns. “I feel way too much pressure to be perfect. Every day of my life, it’s just training, training, training — I feel like I know nothing outside of figure skating.” 

Jungwon’s phone rings, and he furrows his eyebrows before pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the caller ID. It’s Jangmi, his older sister.

“Hello?” Jungwon says, putting his sister on speaker mode. 

“Why did we have to find out from Irene that you’re retiring?” Jangmi’s tone does not seem happy, and Wonyoung, who’s sitting beside him, seems shocked. 

Jungwon sits up properly, frowning at his sister’s words. “Because I didn’t think that it was any of your business at the time, and probably because I would’ve told you when I was ready?” he replies. “Why do you sound so angry?” 

“You’re like… 22. You’re way too young to retire.” 

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, Jangmi.” Jungwon says, sighing. 

“Why are you even retiring anyways? It’s not like you’re injured or anything.” she says, and Jungwon frowns. “I just don’t love the sport anymore, Jangmi. I should be able to retire when I want to, and I think that I want to.” 

“All because you don’t love the sport? You’re throwing away all those years of your training because you don’t love it anymore? You’re just finding an excuse to quit, Jungwon — and you know our family doesn’t like quitters.”

Jangmi’s words make Jungwon fume. He’s furious, and Wonyoung can tell from the way his expression immediately changes from frustration to one of pure anger. 

“You would never understand, Jangmi. I sacrificed my entire childhood for this sport and I wish I fucking knew why I fell out of love with it but I just don’t know why, okay? I wish I could just suddenly start fucking love skating like I did when I was 4, but that’s not possible! I’ve gotten to the point where I simply just cannot continue because I’m not going to spend my days being miserable doing something that I don’t love.” Jungwon’s hands tremble as he holds his phone, tears welling in his eyes and Wonyoung pats his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him — it does not seem to work at all.

“Do your medals and titles really mean nothing to you? Do they not give you motivation to keep going? You’re literally Yang Jungwon, Olympian, 2025 World Champion, and a 5 time national champion!”

“They seem to mean more to you than they do to me.” Jungwon says.

“Jungwon, you can’t give up.”

“But I can.” 

“Jungwon—”

“Jangmi, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. Call me when you can accept my decision.” Jungwon says, before hanging up. He sighs, leaning his head back on the headrest of his couch.

He blinks away the tears in his eyes, and he lets out a loud sigh.

“Are you okay?” Wonyoung asks, even if she knows that her cousin is anything but okay.

“I’ll manage.” Jungwon replies, and Wonyoung gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Jungwon gives her a stiff smile. 

None of them say a word for a while, sitting in silence until Jungwon suddenly speaks up. “I just don’t know how this happened.” 

“What?” Wonyoung asks. 

“How I managed to start disliking the one thing I swore I’d love my whole life. I spent my entire life, I sacrificed my entire life just to get here… and now that I am here, I find that I suddenly hate skating. The passion I used to have seems like it just disappeared into thin air.” 

“What Jangmi said was wrong.” Wonyoung says. “It’s your career. Do whatever you want.” 

“But now that I think about it, do I really want to retire?” Jungwon lets out a sad laugh. “I was telling my friend, (Name), that I wanted to love skating again. Maybe that’s just all I want.” 

Jangmi’s phone call somehow really struck a chord within Jungwon. He knew that his sister only cared about his titles — it’s been like that since they were kids. Saying I’m figure skater Yang Jungwon’s sister somehow gave her an automatic “cool” pass. Then it became national champion Yang Jungwon. Then, Olympian Yang Jungwon.

Figure skating is all Jungwon’s ever known. Saying that he wants to retire seems easy enough when he knows he hates what he does. But when his last competition rolls around, Jungwon knows that leaving the ice might be the most difficult thing he’s had to do, ever.

Jungwon might hate the sport he’s sacrificed his life for, but what he hates more is that he allowed himself to start hating it.

SIX. rental skates

After a few weeks of practising your gala performance and a little bit of your programs for next season, you and Jungwon are headed to Japan for Fantasy On Ice.

Jungwon hasn’t exactly been in the best mood lately. You’ve tried to cheer him up, and it works sometimes, but he still looks exhausted and tired of it whenever he steps on the ice.

You hope the ice show will make him feel better. Sometimes performing to an upbeat and supportive crowd can help cheer people up (at least that’s what it’s like for you.)

You’ve given him supportive comments while you’re watching him rehearse his program for the show, and you manage to get him to crack small smiles while he’s skating — you know he’ll have to take this one step at a time.

You two are seated beside each other on the plane, and Jungwon settles into his seat comfortably, headphones propped on his head over a baseball cap.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask him, and he shrugs. “I haven’t participated in an ice show for a while. I really don’t know what to expect…. so I’m a bit worried.” he replies.

“Don’t worry. Ice shows are meant to just be for fun,” you say. “Skating is something you should enjoy with the audience.”

Your take is interesting. All his life, Jungwon has just been aiming for the medals — he never thought about how he was feeling while he skated. It was as if his mind was blank, only knowing that he had to do this certain element at this certain time. 

Because getting medals was what would bring him joy, right? 

That was what Jungwon used to think. 

“Mhm.” he replies. 

He doesn’t know why his sister’s words from weeks ago are still stuck in his mind. He goes quiet, lips downturned into a small frown that you notice. 

“How’d you start liking the sport?” you ask Jungwon, noticing his mood to seemingly be less than pleasant. Maybe your question will help him take his mind off whatever’s been bugging him.

“My sister’s birthday party. We all went to the ice rink together. I remember just running onto the ice, and I fell a couple times. There was this one learn to skate class being held during it, and I just saw other kids my age having so much fun. Then, I saw this one girl do a Biellmann, and she did some double jumps too. And I thought — how cool would it be if I could do that?” he says, and he smiles a little when he thinks about those good memories.

“What about you?” he asks, taking a sip from his water bottle as the pilot notifies everyone that they’re about to take off.

“My parents just signed me up for skating lessons. But then I ended up really loving it after my first class.” you reply, and Jungwon nods.

“Now that I think about it, classes were really fun for me when I was a kid.” Jungwon says, and you crack a small smile. “We should do a learn to skate class for jokes,” you say, and Jungwon chuckles. “The coach would definitely ask us what we’re doing there. They’d be so confused.” he replies. 

“Let’s wear rental skates.” 

“Oh, god no.” Jungwon grimaces at the thought. “I swear the blades at the rink haven’t been sharpened for years.” 

“You should try a triple in rental skates,” you joke, and Jungwon makes a face, wincing. “I can already feel the pain from that… I’d most definitely fall and injure myself.” 

“No, you’d be good, Mr 2025 World Champion.” 

“You try it, Ms 2025 Grand Prix Final winner.” 

Jungwon thinks that he feels the most comfortable when he’s around you. It takes him a bit to warm up to people, but you two had formed a close relationship practically the minute you guys became training mates. Talking to you is easy, and fun – he doesn’t think he’s had a good laugh on the rink in years, and Jungwon realises that skating is more fun when you’re around.

Goofing around on the rink, taking practices seriously but also not at the same time is something that seems new to Jungwon, at least in the last few years. So seeing you find joy in practice, which is something he hasn’t been able to do for years, makes him think that maybe he could do that too. 

You encourage him, as well, pulling him into your antics that make Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae laugh. Slowly but surely, all your training mates seem to realise that Jungwon’s loosening up – he allows himself to have fun on the rink, and he allows himself to take breaks.

During a conversation between Jongseob, Jiwon and Eunchae, Jiwon had mentioned that she thought that Jungwon would probably fall in love with you. 

“She seems to make him happy,” was what she said. She’s not wrong, too – everyone’s noticed the way Jungwon seems to seem livelier and happier lately. Jongseob remembers the way Jungwon seemed to be constantly stressed, eyebrows almost always knitted together in worry, and never-ending sighs escaping past his lips. 

Jungwon’s love for skating hasn’t fully returned yet, but he thinks that he’s starting to like it a little again. It’s not as draining as it was before, and perhaps it’s because you’ve taught him that above all, skating should be fun. Jungwon allows himself to have fun on the ice for the first time in a couple of years, and when he glides across the ice with not a single ounce of worrying about him needing to prove that he’s the best, all he feels is relief. 

And he would be eternally grateful for you. For teaching him how to have fun on the ice again. To let go of all the pressure that’s been on his shoulders for years, and just to enjoy the sport.

Gold medals and countless titles might have brought him fulfilment years ago. But now, he thinks that simply just skating would bring the same amount of fulfilment, if not maybe even more.

SEVEN. side by side (quad toe)

Ice show practices are fun. 

Everyone’s got a smile on their faces. The first thing Jungwon notices is how warm and welcoming everyone is. The minute he walks into the rink alongside you, he’s welcomed with a hug from Harua, a figure skater from Japan that he remembers having a few nice conversations with during competitions. 

“It’s nice to see you again!” Harua beams. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Jungwon replies, even though he saw him at Worlds just a few months ago. “I know right?” Harua says. “I’m glad you’re joining us this year, though! I remember the organisers wanted to see if you wanted to join us last year, but Irene told them you were busy.” 

Jungwon brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah, I was busy during the off-season last year. Preparing for competitions, you know… I thought I’d have a break from that and just join you guys this year.” 

“Mhm,” Harua nods, and he hears his name being called out by someone. “I think I’ve got to run along, but it was nice seeing you! It’ll be lots of fun. Nice seeing you too as well, (Name)! Let’s talk more later.” 

Harua runs off, as you give Jungwon an amused smile. “You guys seem close.” 

“We’re not super close… we’ve just talked to each other a couple times at competitions. He’s a really nice guy, though.” Jungwon says, taking his skates out of his skate bag. He looks at the rink, and there are a few skaters he recognises just warming up. 

“He does seem really nice.” you hum, sitting down next to him as you take your skates out from your bag as well.

“You ready?” he asks, standing up. You quickly finish lacing up your right boot before nodding. “Let’s go,” you say, linking arms with him as you lead him towards the rink.

You do it so casually that Jungwon needs a few seconds to process the action. He doesn’t know why his face starts feeling warm, and he doesn’t want you to let go of his arm.

The funniest thing is, the minute he thinks that, you let go, placing your hands into the pocket of your jacket.

“Hey, let’s do a side by side jump.” you suggest, and Jungwon nods. “Triple?” he asks, and you shake your head. “Nah, let’s do a quad. Quad toe?”

“Sure.” he says, and he starts skating, doing backward crossovers on the ice. “Should I count? How do pairs do this?” you say, as you skate beside him.

“Just count,” he says. 

“Okay, one, two, three.”

And you both take off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing, completely synchronised. You look at Jungwon with a huge smile on your face, giving him a high five. “Nice.” you say.

“That was good.” Jungwon says, patting you on the shoulder. “New pairs team in the making!” you two hear Jongseob joke, and Jungwon lets out a chuckle. 

You tell Jungwon that you’re going to practise your gala program for a bit, and he nods as he watches you skate off. You glide gracefully across the ice, Jungwon admiring how beautiful your jumps and spins are.

He doesn’t realise that his expression is one of awe until Harua points it out. “You look very enamoured, Jungwon.” he smirks, and Jungwon immediately snaps out of it.

“Huh… what?” he asks, almost as if he’s in a daze. He blinks a couple times, and Harua only chuckles. “Do you like (Name)?

“Of course I like (Name). She’s my friend.” he says, completely clueless to what Harua’s hinting at. “No, no, I mean like… in a romantic way.” 

A romantic way?

It might sound a little crazy, but Jungwon does not think he’s ever had a crush on someone in his 22 years of walking on this planet. Skating was his number one priority — love wasn’t anywhere on his list of priorities. In fact, Jungwon doesn’t even think he’s thought about love at all.

So Jungwon isn’t quite sure how to tell if his feelings for you are romantic or not, because he simply just doesn’t know what having a crush feels like. He knows that you linking arms with him was nice. He knows that he didn’t want you to let go of his arm.

Was that the first sign of a crush?

Jungwon truly didn’t know.

He scratches the nape of his neck awkwardly. “I don't… think so.” he replies, but it comes out sounding more like a question, and Harua only smiles at him, amused.

“Cool. Cool… tell me that next year when you two are dating.” the boy says, and Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “We’re not going to… what?”

“You seem much happier when you’re around her, you know.” Harua says, earnestly. “At Worlds, you didn’t seem very happy. You seemed tense, as if you were always burdened by something.” 

“But now, you seem like you’re feeling better. You’re smiling again.” Harua says, and Jungwon takes a few seconds to process his words. 

“She… she’s trying to get me to like skating again.” Jungwon says, and Harua lets out a knowing ‘ah’. “I guess I have started liking skating more again… because she’s helped me learn to have fun.”

“That’s good. See, your relationship is like a whole Netflix movie plot.” Harua quips.

“I really don’t see the vision you’re trying to paint in my head, Harua.” Jungwon says, and Harua shrugs. “Just think about your feelings when you’re around her. I guess if you feel like… warm, and happy when she’s around, you like her? Or if you think about her a lot. Or if you want to kiss her, I don’t know. You should Google it. Ask Google how to tell if you like someone, or something. You know it has all the answers.” 

Jungwon’s drawn to two parts of what Harua just said. One, the part being that Harua told him to ask Google how to tell if you liked someone, and two, the part where he told Jungwon to think about whether he wanted to kiss you. 

Jungwon’s not going to Google to ask for relationship advice. 

And Jungwon also doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you or not. He doesn’t even know if he likes you romantically, either. All he knows is that you make him happy. Much happier than he used to be.

But when you skate up to him with a bright smile on your face, Jungwon feels his heart beat faster than it was just a few seconds ago. And he knows it’s not because he’s tired from skating, because after all, he has been standing still while talking to Harua.

Maybe he does like you. 

Just a little bit.

EIGHT. let me entertain you

Tonight is the first show of Fantasy on Ice for this year, and you’re bursting with excitement. 

You get dressed into the costume for the opening, and you raise an eyebrow when you see the dress. It’s not… terrible, but it’s not something you’d wear at all.

You leave the dressing room, looking into the mirror as you tilt your head. You walk towards the hair and makeup area, where Jungwon’s getting his hair done.

“Do I look okay?” 

Jungwon thinks his heart skips a beat. 

The costume is... alright, but that’s the case with Fantasy On Ice costumes every year. But, you make it look really, really good. Unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips, and you take it as a good sign.

“You look great.” he says, and you smile. 

“Thank you, Won!” 

You just called him a nickname. His smile seemingly gets wider as you scurry off, being called for your own hair and makeup to be done. 

“Do you see what I mean, Jungwon?” Harua says, sitting in the chair beside him. “I really don’t.” Jungwon replies.

“You two are definitely going to fall in love. I’ve got great matchmaking skills.” Harua smirks.

“Who’s falling in love?” Yuzuru asks, overhearing Harua’s words, and Jungwon buries his face in his hands. “Jungwon! And… (Name).” Harua says your voice very quietly, in fear that you might hear him.

“Oh?” Yuzuru says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys would be cute together. Did you guys get closer recently?” 

“Mhm,” Jungwon nods. “I don’t think I'm… in love though.”

“You’re married to the ice like Yuzu, huh?” Harua quips. “I said I wanted someone who would benefit my skating or be very supportive of it.” Yuzuru replies.

“Elsa.” 

“Enough.” 

“No, but I just haven’t thought about love, you know?” Jungwon says. “Skating takes up my whole life… I don’t exactly have the time to think about it.”

“Valid.” Yuzuru hums. “But seriously, you two would actually be really cute together. Harua says he hasn’t seen you smile genuinely in years.” 

Jungwon thinks Harua might be exaggerating a little. He would smile at Harua (genuine smiles!) after he finished skating. It was just during the skate, during the Kiss and Cry, and during the podium where Jungwon would do the smile that never quite ended up reaching his eyes. 

“You’re making me sound emo!” 

“You are though?”  Harua replies, laughing. “Wait, no… not anymore.” he nods his head in the direction of where you are, and Jungwon rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not falling in love.” he says, before getting up from his chair. He hears Harua say Whatever you say! teasingly, and Jungwon just shakes his head as he makes his way over to you. 

“Hey,” he says, greeting you as the makeup artist swipes a pretty pink colour on your lips. You look up at him, waving (because you can’t exactly smile right now.) 

“Hi! You’re lucky you’ve got a puffer jacket on. Man, it’s freezing here.” you say when the makeup artist is done, shivering slightly. For someone who’s on the ice almost all the time, your tolerance to the cold isn’t exactly high — but in your defence, they did have the aircon on in the room.

“You can just take mine,” Jungwon says, unzipping it. He drapes it over your shoulders, and the action suddenly makes your cheeks start feeling hot.

You’ve heard about this feeling before, but you don’t think you’ve ever really experienced it. If those movies and books were right, you think you might just have the tiniest crush on Yang Jungwon.

You think that becoming friends with Jungwon might’ve been one of the best decisions of your life. He’s kind — always caring about you even when he’s feeling down in the dumps. He’s funny too, but he doesn’t seem to show it to anyone other than you. And, he is undeniably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen.

Him lending you his jacket just makes your heart flutter. 

“Oh, thank you.” you say, and for the first time, you find yourself at a loss for words when you’re talking to Jungwon.

“It’ll keep you warm until before the show starts.” he says, and you nod. “You ready?” you ask, and Jungwon shrugs. 

“I don’t know. I’m a bit scared. I hope I do well.” 

You take his hand, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “I know you’ll do well. And just remember that this is for fun. It’s not a competition. You’re here to have fun, you’re here to let the audience have fun.” 

“Okay.” he says, taking a deep breath. “I’ll make sure to have fun.” 

“Loosen up, Wonie.” you beam at him. “The crowd will love you, I’m sure of it.” 

You see everyone starting to line up in order of their appearance for the opening, and thankfully, you’re behind Jungwon, so you two can continue your conversation.

“I just wanted to ask.” you start, and Jungwon hums, motioning for you to continue. “Do you think you’re starting to love skating again?”

Jungwon is silent for a moment.

“A little bit. Because now I know that skating is meant to be fun, above all.” he says, and you smile.

“Cool.”

“Thank you.” Jungwon grins at you.

“For what?” you ask.

“For helping me with liking skating again. I really thought I wouldn’t be able to find my love for it again. I guess I just thought that if I trained harder and got better results, I’d be happier with my skates… but I was wrong,” he replies. “I needed to learn how to have fun again. I needed to remember why I started loving the sport in the first place.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Won.”

“No, but I do. I know I wouldn’t have done this ice show if you didn’t convince me to. And from what I can tell and the cheers I can hear, I think it’ll be a lot of fun.” he smiles. “So thank you. For pushing me to loosen up. For pushing me to learn to have fun.”

“You’re welcome, then.” you smile. The organiser tells Jungwon that he’ll be up next. “You’ll kill it out there.” you say.

“So will you.”

Jungwon thinks that deciding to join this ice show might be one of the best decisions he’s made. 

NINE. ice days

Jungwon has never felt so happy to perform.

The crowd is loud, lively and cheers him on, applause sounding throughout the arena after he lands a jump. The atmosphere makes Jungwon excited to skate on the next show.

It’s been a while since Jungwon felt excitement towards the ice.

Cheers resound throughout the arena when he finishes his program, and he finds that he doesn’t have to plaster a smile on his face — he already is smiling. A huge, genuine smile. 

He doesn’t see you until the group number at the end, and when he spots you, he skates a little faster in order to catch up with you. “Hey, Won! You did great.” you say when you notice him skating beside you on your left. 

“Thank you,” he says, a smile on his lips. “You did great too.” 

“Was it fun?” you ask, playing with the coloured scarf tied around your neck. You notice that you and Jungwon have the same exact one – they’re both orange and pink (a colour combination that you’re not quite sure you like too much.)

“Yeah. It was really fun.” 

“What’d I tell you?” you say, grinning brightly at him. “There are a lot more shows after this, so you’ll get to experience all this over and over again.” 

“I’m glad you made me do this,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun on the ice in a long, long time.” 

“That’s good. Do you think my quest to help you love the ice again is working?” you ask.

“I think it is.” 

You take his hand and squeeze it. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Jungwon doesn’t notice the crowd seems to get louder after seeing your action. He thinks that someone must’ve done a cool trick, like Jongseob doing a backflip. 

“That’s enough, lovebirds!” Harua says, skating up to you two. “We’re about to leave the rink.” 

All the skaters skate to the centre of the rink, and Jungwon does too, with you following him. You all link hands, bowing at the audience before each of you leave the rink, one by one.

As Jungwon’s hand is in yours, you can’t stop thinking about Harua calling you two lovebirds. Obviously, you and Jungwon weren’t together, but now you can’t stop thinking that perhaps there could be a possibility, provided that you managed to figure out all the mixed feelings you had and if he reciprocated.

But strangely, something about Jungwon just makes you feel at home.

There is something so comforting about his presence. You feel at ease with Jungwon — it’s easy to talk to him, it’s easy to crack jokes when he’s around (you realised that you do it more often when he’s around just so you can see him laugh.)

It’s also easy to just sit in silence with Jungwon. Usually you’d feel compelled to fill the awkward silence, but with Jungwon, sometimes words don’t need to be shared. You feel like you’re able to understand him, and he’s able to understand you, despite only growing close during the off-season.

You’d like to think that he’s the closest friend in your circle of skater friends.

When you’re finished getting changed out of the costume and remove your makeup, you try to find Jungwon in the packed room, but to no avail. 

“Who are you looking for?” Kaori asks, and you turn around to face her. “Oh! Jungwon.” you say, and Kaori points in the direction she saw him go in. “He’s just over there, with Harua.” 

“Thanks!” you say, grinning at Kaori before heading in the direction she pointed at. Sure enough, Jungwon’s sitting there, typing away at his phone.

“Won!” you say, and he looks up, a smile immediately on his lips. “(Name)! I was waiting for you.” he says.

Your heart flutters. Harua smirks whilst trying to stifle a giggle. Jungwon shoots a pointed look at the boy.

“Oh?” you ask. “Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner before heading back to the hotel together.” he says, standing up from his chair.

“Of course!” you reply, nodding. “Cool,” he says, placing his puffer jacket into his bag. “Harua says there’s a good ramen place around here.” 

“Yeah. It’s really good. I would go with you guys but then I’d be third-wheeling.” Harua says, still seated in his chair. Your cheeks flush pink at his words, whilst Jungwon furrows his eyebrows. “Why would you be third-wheeling?” 

“Oh. Just because,” Harua says, a smirk on his lips. “You guys should run along now. They close pretty soon,” he checks the time on his phone.

“Well! We should hurry then… see you tomorrow, Harua.” you say, and Jungwon waves at the skater. “Bye!” 

Have fun on your date, Harua mouths at Jungwon. Jungwon rolls his eyes in response. 

“The crowd were cheering really loud for you tonight,” you tell Jungwon. “Oh, really?” he asks — he thought they were just as loud with everybody else. 

“There were less people in the audience during the last ice show I did, but yeah. They were really loud — they seemed to really enjoy your performance.”

A small, proud smile makes its way to Jungwon’s lips. “I’m glad they enjoyed it. They seemed to like your performance too. I know I did.”

Goddamn Yang Jungwon. His words were making your heart beat as fast as it was when you were competing on the ice. 

Your cheeks feel hot, and you fan your face with your hand to try and stop them from getting warmer. Jungwon seems to notice your actions. “It’s hot, isn’t it?” he asks.

“What?”

“The weather.” he says, pulling out his phone. “It’s 32 degrees right now.” 

Thank god Jungwon is dense when it comes to any aspect of romance. You understand why though, because when he was younger, he was fully devoted to the ice. You don’t think he even gave any attention to the people who were chasing after him and yearning for his affection — because it was like his heart belonged to the ice.

“Oh. Yeah, it is.” you say. You think you dodged a bullet there. You and Jungwon arrive at the ramen shop soon after, and Harua is right — the food is absolutely delicious. 

Speaking of Harua, the ramen reminds you of him mentioning that if he came with you and Jungwon, he’d be third-wheeling. 

Somehow you feel… giddy at the thought of that. Not Harua third-wheeling, but the idea of you and Jungwon on a date. 

Wait, was this dinner a date? 

No. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. Jungwon only sees you as a friend. 

But the idea of you two possibly being something more seems to now be engraved in the back of your mind, and while eating ramen in 32 degree weather with Yang Jungwon in the streets of Makuhari, you realise:

You like Jungwon.

TEN. 4Lz (ur, fall)

Jungwon finds that Fantasy on Ice ends faster than he thinks. It was nearly two months of touring — time really does fly when you’re having fun.

He thinks he’s starting to enjoy skating again. He’s found a new appreciation for his craft — and with the knowledge that his skating is able to make so many people happy, he thinks that he should be able to make himself happy with his own skating. 

He returns to the Taereung skating rink with a bright smile, and Irene notices the change in his demeanour the second he walks in the door. 

“Welcome back, Jungwon.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Hi, Irene. Thanks.” he replies, placing his skate bag on the floor before taking his skates out. He takes off his usual training shoes, putting on the skating boots that've been with him every day for the last 3 years.

“How was FAOI?” Irene asks. “Good. It was fun.” Jungwon says, finishing lacing up his skates. 

“That’s good. Are you ready to practise for next season properly now?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. “Yeah.” he says, skating onto the rink. 

“You remember the choreographies, right?” she asks, and Jungwon nods. He thinks he remembers them, but now that she asks, he’s not too sure if he remembers them completely. 

“We’ll do the short program first.” Irene says, pressing play on her phone as the music plays through the speakers. 

Jungwon glides on the ice elegantly, his movements as fluid and soft as water. He spins and turns on the ice, doing backward crossovers as he prepares for the first jump — a quad lutz. 

He’s usually confident in this jump. He takes off, spinning in the air — but as he’s about to make his landing, he falls. Irene makes a noise just as Jungwon gets up, and he presses his lips together in a thin line. It’s fine. Jungwon thinks.

The next jump is a quad toeloop-triple toeloop combination, and Jungwon thinks he’ll do fine, and he lands the quad well, but he feels the landing on the triple is a little shaky.

Doubt fills his mind. Did he get worse somehow while doing the ice shows? Sure, he didn’t do as many quads when he was in Japan, but he thought he’d be okay. Or maybe he’s just having a bad day. He’s done three jumps. Two of them he wouldn’t consider done well.

Flying camel spin. Jungwon’s spins are always done well, and Irene nods in approval — but every thought in Jungwon’s mind is telling him that he shouldn’t have done that ice show. He slacked off, and now he’s not doing as great as he was before.

Final jump for his short program, a triple axel. He lands it cleanly, but he feels little satisfaction for it. Dread is what Jungwon feels. He shouldn’t have gone. He should’ve listened to the devil on his shoulder telling him to stay — he needs to train. He needs to practise.

Spin combination. Jungwon does them well as usual. Then the step sequence, which as he’s skating, he hears Irene make a small hum in satisfaction. But Jungwon does not feel any satisfaction from his performance at all.

The last element of his program, a sit spin, is completed perfectly. 

Jungwon is surprised he remembers the entire choreography when he’s in his finishing pose. He sighs, skating around the rink with a frown on his face.

“You didn’t have enough height on your quad lutz.” Irene says, and Jungwon nods. “I know.” 

“Train that for a bit.” 

Jungwon listens.

And he falls more than he usually does. 

The more he falls, the more his brain tells him that he should have stayed. He notices you entering the rink, and that lifts his mood slightly — but as he attempts another quad lutz, and falls, he’s just completely tired.

He motions to Irene that he’s going to have a break. He leaves the rink, putting his skate guards on as he heads towards an empty bench, burying his face in his hands.

You immediately notice the dejected look on Jungwon’s face, and you hurry over to him to ask him if he’s okay. 

“What’s wrong, Won?” you ask, sitting down next to him. “Nothing. I’m frustrated.” he replies with a sigh.

“You can talk to me.” 

“I spent too much time having fun. And now I think I forgot the choreo to my free skate, and I can’t land my quad lutz — usually, I’d be way ahead in terms of preparation. And I’m just scared that I won’t do well next season.” he says, his voice shaky, and you frown.

“I’m not blaming you for saying I should’ve gone to the ice shows, by the way. I enjoyed the ice show. But now I feel underprepared.” 

“It’s okay. But Jungwon, Grand Prix is like in… September. It’s July.” you say, in an attempt to reassure him.

“I know. I know. I’m just… worried.” 

“You have plenty, plenty of time. And hey, maybe it’s just a bad skate day. I get those sometimes.” you say in a soft voice, placing your hand on his shoulder, and Jungwon thinks your words make him feel a little better. “Doing not as well on one day doesn’t mean you’re terrible now, Jungwon. You have lots of time, and you’ll only get better. Don’t stress, okay?”

“Okay.” he says, sighing. 

“You’ll do great. I know it.” 

Your words are able to comfort him. Jungwon is thankful for that. But he feels this blooming feeling in his chest that he doesn’t really think he’s ever felt before. The words Harua said a month ago pops back into his mind. You two are definitely going to fall in love.

Love may be a bit of a stretch for now. But Jungwon thinks he certainly does like you. He feels warm and happy around you. He thinks about you a lot. And the possibility of being something more than friends has started to linger in the back of his mind.

“Thank you. You will too.” Jungwon says. You give his hand a tight squeeze as encouragement, telling him ‘fighting!’ — which makes him crack a small smile.

Shit, maybe Harua is right. Jungwon thinks. He heads back onto the rink, deciding that he should try the quad lutz again. Maybe it’s just a bad day. 

And as he lands one that he thinks is the cleanest one he’s ever done, he decides that perhaps taking Harua’s advice to ask Google how to tell if he likes someone isn’t the worst idea. 

ELEVEN. octuple flip

Grand Prix assignments roll out two weeks after you and Jungwon’s return to the Taereung rink. 

You’re assigned to Grand Prix de France and NHK Trophy, and Jungwon’s assigned to Skate Canada and like you, the NHK Trophy. 

You’re glad you’ll at least be able to see him at a Grand Prix competition. You tell him that when he’s at Skate Canada, you’ll be watching him skate from the comfort of your home. He tells you that he’ll be doing the same when you’re at Grand Prix de France.

You and Jungwon get even closer during training for the Grand Prix competitions. Like you had said, that day when he fell on the quad lutz multiple times was just a bad day. You’ve seen him do both his short program and free program cleanly multiple times now. 

Jungwon thinks he must’ve been having fun during training, because Skate Canada rolls around faster than he thinks. But of course with you around at training, it’ll always be fun. 

He did not end up asking Google for relationship advice. He instead asked Wonyoung, who had asked him to text her about you and just simply describe you and how you made him feel. He had originally texted  ‘nice to me.’, but then Wonyoung told him that he had to elaborate.

Needless to say, after his long paragraph about you that he sent to Wonyoung (she skimmed over it, the first two lines of the text were all she needed to know), she had established that Jungwon liked you. 

And with that thought in his mind, Jungwon does realise he has started to act differently around you more recently. He’s more attentive to you, he’s always by your side when you’re around, and he finds himself sometimes wanting to just hold your hand.

As you send him off to the airport, a bright smile on your lips and a cat plushie in your hand that you give to him, a pink blush tints his cheeks, even if he doesn’t know it. And if he did, he’d blame it on how hot the coffee in his hand is. 

Unbeknownst to Jungwon, your cheeks are heating up too when you see the look on his face after you give him the stuffed animal. 

There’s just something about Jungwon that makes your heart do flips. Triple flips, quadruple flips — even quintuple flips.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. You think it just did 8 rotations. Not humanly possible.

But, your heart just does an octuple flip. 

You text him every day too, when he’s in Canada. He responds almost immediately (if he’s awake, because of the damned time zones), and he sometimes even sends you pictures of himself on the ice too. There’s one where he’s holding up the cat plushie you gave him, a smile on his lips. You find that there are butterflies in your stomach after you see the message.

Time zones are horrible, but you set an alarm so you can remember to open up your laptop and watch him skate. 

You send him a goodluck message, that he doesn’t read immediately because he must have his phone in his bag, since he’s about to skate soon. 

And when the commentator announces Jungwon’s name, you see him skate out onto the rink. You murmur You got this! but obviously, you know he can’t hear you.

“Now, obviously Yang Jungwon is one of the most anticipated skaters at this Grand Prix competition. He delivered a sublime skate at Worlds last season, securing him the title as world champion.” you hear the commentator say, as Jungwon skates around the rink before getting into his starting position. “Yang Jungwon with the music: A Walk In The Skies.” 

The music starts, and Jungwon moves across the ice in a way you’re most familiar with now. You’ve seen him do this program hundreds, maybe thousands of times — but at a competition, Jungwon’s got his A-game on. His movements are delicate, elegant and beautiful. 

“First comes the quad lutz.” the commentator says, and you watch your screen intently as Jungwon takes off, spinning four revolutions in the air before landing cleanly. “Yes!” you say, pumping your fist. 

“Absolutely stunning.” 

You agree with the commentator wholeheartedly.

“The quad toe-triple toe.” Jungwon lands the quad toe the second the commentator says that, and takes off into the triple toe — another clean jump. 

You smile. He’s doing great, you think, as he does a flying camel spin. He looks happy as he skates as well. He seems to be enjoying the sport more and more each day.

Jungwon skates his entire program cleanly, with all green boxes on the left hand corner of your screen. His technical score is the highest among all the skaters, and he was the last to skate — you think that he’ll definitely place first in the short program.

“Yang Jungwon at his best, everyone.” the commentator says. “Yang did absolutely wonderful tonight, and I’m sure it will reflect on the scores.”

He bows, a genuine smile on his lips — one that he hasn’t shown in a long time at competitions as the cat plushies fall from the bleachers and onto the ice. He picks up as many as he can before leaving the rink while the flower kids pick up the rest, as the camera pans to him giving Irene a fist bump.

You think he’ll break 100. There’s no way he won’t. 

As he sits in the Kiss and Cry nervously waiting for his scores, you sit at home on your couch, just as nervous as he is. The camera faces towards him, and Jungwon smiles at it, holding up one of the cat plushies he had received and mouthing a thank you. 

“The scores, please.” 

“The short program score for Yang Jungwon of South Korea is 111.45, his season’s best and currently puts him in first place.” 

The crowd erupts into cheers, and you push your laptop off your lap and onto the couch, jumping up in excitement. 

You watch as Jungwon pumps his fist up into the air before hugging Irene with pure joy on his face. 

Jungwon doesn’t think he’s been this happy to place first in a long, long time. He had fun skating today. He also skated well today. And he’s currently in first. 

Having fun and winning can coexist. Jungwon finds that out today as he bows once more before leaving the Kiss and Cry.

Jungwon thinks that he’s just a few steps away from loving skating again. 

TWELVE. you, me (?) and the ice

Jungwon wins the men’s category of Skate Canada.

You welcome him back to Korea with a huge hug at the airport, slightly startling him but he hugs you back nevertheless. “You did so, so good!” you say, and Jungwon smiles.

“Thank you.” he says. “I haven’t felt this happy to win gold in so long.”

“You know I cried watching your free skate?” you say, and Jungwon looks at you, eyes widened. “Really?” he asks, as you lead him to your car. 

“I was really proud. And happy. Because you looked like you liked skating again.” you say. “I did like skating there. I haven’t enjoyed skating competitively for so long… and I feel like I just did better when I enjoyed it.” he hums.

“Jungwon, you broke a world record, and you had fun while doing it.” you say.

“I did.” he replies. “If you had told that to me at the beginning of the year, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

You load his luggage into the trunk of your car, motioning for him to get into the front seat. He does, and when you slide into the driver’s seat, he surprises you with a cute stuffed toy of an adorable polar bear — which are the plushies that your fans throw onto the ice after you skate.

“I saw this in a store window when I was heading back to the hotel, and it reminded me of you,” he says, handing it to you. “It’s so cute, Jungwon! Thank you.” you say, taking the toy in your hands. “Look, I even got it skates.” he says, pointing at the skates attached to the polar bear toy’s feet, making you chuckle. 

“That’s so cool.” you say, setting it aside so you can drive. “I’m putting this on my nightstand.” 

You do actually want to put it on your nightstand, but you decide to bring it with you to France. You pack it in your backpack the night before you leave. “You’re my good luck charm now,” you tell the stuffed toy.

And this time it’s Jungwon’s turn to send you off. 

Like what you did when Jungwon was in Canada, he texts you as much as he can, updating you on the little things that go on at the rink, such as telling you about how Jiwon bought a hot dog, or Jongseob doing backflips on the ice nonstop.

He keeps his promise of watching you skate. He watches your short program on his bed, his dog Maeumi curling up beside him as he watches in anticipation. You skated clean in the short program, and as if Jungwon was actually in the arena right now, he erupts into applause. 

“Look, Maeumi. (Name) did well.” he says, showing his dog the screen that showed the rankings. Maeumi only blinks at the screen. 

When the time to watch your free skate rolls around, Jungwon drops everything to watch it. He ends his call with Wonyoung, when they’re talking about the family gathering next month that Jungwon doesn’t think that he’ll be able to make it to. “Sorry, Wonyo — something important just came up, I’ll call you back later.” he tells her, ending the call swiftly.

He sees you in the last group of skaters warming up — you’re going to skate last, because you placed first during the short program. He watches as you land a triple loop cleanly, and unconsciously, a smile makes its way to his lips.

He watches the other skaters skate before you, and they all do pretty well. There’s a couple of falls, and Jungwon winces when one of the skaters hits the ice particularly hard. 

And when your name is announced, his eyes are immediately drawn to the screen, diverting his attention from Maeumi, who now also seems to be drawn to the laptop.

“Last to skate is (Name), representing South Korea. Now, (Name) had a wonderful season last year — placing 1st at the Grand Prix finals, and 2nd at the World Championships. Placed first in the short program, she’s surely aiming for the top of the podium here today.” the commentator says. 

Jungwon chews on the inside of his cheek nervously as your music starts. 

Every time you skate, Jungwon is in awe, and today is certainly no exception. You glide on the ice as smoothly as a flowing river, every movement of yours from your arm all the way to your fingertips controlled delicately. 

Quad flip, Jungwon thinks at the same time the commentator says that out loud. You land it beautifully, and Jungwon nods his head, murmuring ‘nice’. Maeumi looks at Jungwon’s laptop screen, just as transfixed on your skating as his owner is. 

Being able to watch your skating is a gift in itself, Jungwon thinks. Your performances are absolutely mesmerising, and Jungwon knows he wouldn’t be able to look away even if he tried. You are a master at combining technique with artistry – without a doubt, it is clear to everybody that you were born to skate. As you continue with your program, Jungwon’s eyes follow your figure on the screen.

He has watched you do this program a million times. Every single time, he gets chills – every single time, you do it better than the last time. Everything is executed to perfection, and there is one thing Jungwon notices clearly as you skate. It is your passion for it. 

You skate as if it'll be your last skate ever. You give your all, expressing every single emotion you feel and sharing it with the audience. You aren’t showing off your skills – you are telling a story. A tale of you and the ice.

You once mentioned to him that you had always wanted to fly. You might not have wings, but you have your skates. Aim higher. Soar higher. Despite how difficult figure skating is, and the injury that almost took you out of the sport — never once, have you thought to quit. Never once have you wanted to give up on your dream, and never once have you ever imagined a world without you skating.

Jungwon wants to skate with as much passion and love as you have for the sport. He has much to learn from you, and it is only when your music stops that he realises that a single tear drops from his eye. 

You have single handedly changed Jungwon’s entire perspective of skating. You managed to help him fall back in love with the sport – and he knows he’s not fully there yet, but he’s close to it, and your encouragement played a huge part in it. He knows he would be miserable on the ice if you hadn’t. 

And when your scores are announced, with everyone in the arena and everyone watching online hearing how you had broken a new world record, Jungwon jumps up from his bed with joy, a huge grin plastered on his lips. 

Nobody deserves that gold medal more than you do. 

THIRTEEN. thin ice

With each skate and each reminder that he should use the ice to release all his pressures and burdens, Jungwon enjoys skating more and more now. 

Irene notices how Jungwon finds skating more exciting. Being subjected to only frowns and sighs of disappointment only for the past few years, she thinks it’s certainly a nice change – and deep inside, she hopes that Jungwon will change his mind about retirement. 

He has been seriously considering it now. With him now being able to enjoy skating competitions, Jungwon finds himself wanting to compete next season, but still, a little part of him still wonders if he should let his first love go. 

He thinks he’ll decide after the Olympics (that is if he makes the team, of course.) Jungwon knows he’ll have to put out a really good skate at Nationals in January. Despite that little devil telling him that if he doesn’t train morning, noon and night, he’ll lose, Jungwon decides to ignore it. He finds that he skates better when he’s having fun anyways. 

NHK Trophy rolls around soon enough, and it’s both yours and Jungwon’s last Grand Prix assignment before the Final. You two are finally travelling together for the first time since the ice show, and you don’t forget to buy a cat plushie to hand to him after his free skate (you know he has plenty of them, but one more couldn’t hurt.)

Jungwon does the same, buying a polar bear plushie for you that he stuffs into his suitcase. 

The competition goes well for both of you, with both of you winning silver medals and gaining a spot in the Grand Prix Final.

You both fall once in the free skate, with the winners of the competition skating cleanly for both programs. The Jungwon a couple months ago would be terribly upset about it – but now, Jungwon is happy about silver. He podiumed whilst skating happily. Something that he didn’t think he’d be able to do again. 

When Jungwon hands you the polar bear plushie after your free skate, he doesn’t realise that a camera goes off the second you take hold of it in your hands. And when you hand him the cat plushie after his free skate, another camera goes off as well – you both don’t find out until somehow Dispatch releases an article about it. 

First of all, Jungwon wonders why you two are on Dispatch anyways. You two aren’t idols, and you doubt that the public would really care about either of your romantic lives, but Jungwon finds that he is very wrong after reading some of the comments from netizens. Second of all, he wonders why he didn’t notice the camera flash when both incidents happened. Third of all, he examines his face closely – and he thinks that the smile he’s giving you is one of the brightest ones of his that’s been seen on camera.

Harua texts him a ‘invite me to the wedding’ with a link to the article and too many emojis that it gives Jungwon an eyesore. Jungwon replies with a no and a middle finger emoji. Harua knows well enough that you and Jungwon aren’t together.

Yuzuru texts him ‘Are you two finally together? Congratulations!’ with perfect capitalisation and a link to the article. Jungwon replies with another no, but this time with a smiley face instead of the middle finger. Yuzuru texts him a thumbs up. His follow up message reads I’m sure it’ll happen soon though, and Jungwon just sends back a ‘hahahahaha’. 

And you’re subjected to merciless teasing from Riki, who spams the article link in your chat. You honestly think it’s much worse than the comments from some of the netizens you read. But honestly, what the netizens say isn't even that bad. Except for the comments from the ones who want Jungwon to be theirs. Those ones you just laugh at, because honestly, they’re quite hilarious. You’ve never read such creative insults directed at you. 

But the articles make Jungwon think. 

About the possibility of being in a relationship with you. He’s established that he thinks he likes you (or at least his feelings for you do fit what Wonyoung and Google have said about what liking someone is like), but Jungwon has never thought about… dating. 

Quite frankly, Jungwon thinks that he’d be scared to tell you about his feelings – because he knows that once you confess, that relationship would be changed forever. You can’t go back to just friends when the other knows that you want to be more than that. And what happens if the relationship doesn’t work out? Do you just act like the whole thing never happened? Or do you just cut the other person off completely? 

The latter option is absolutely not possible considering that you and Jungwon are training mates too. 

This is complicated. And thinking about it makes Jungwon’s head hurt. 

But then he looks at the cat plushie on his bed that you had given to him after he finished skating his free program. The joy that fills his heart is immense, and he can’t stop the lovestruck grin from spreading across his lips. 

Is this what the movies and books described as being struck by Cupid’s arrow? Because if so, Jungwon thinks that Cupid shot an arrow straight through his heart, with your name engraved on the tip of it. 

Jungwon can’t stop thinking about you. His day is instantly made the second he sees you walk through the doors of the Taereung ice rink, and he looks at you as if you've got the whole universe in your hands. Every single move you make, every single smile you send his way makes that blooming feeling in Jungwon’s chest get warmer, warmer, and warmer. 

Jungwon likes you. He thinks he really, really likes you. 

And coming to that conclusion doesn’t make him as afraid as he thought he'd be. He’s calm, and he thinks his conclusion just seems right. As if the final piece of the puzzle is put into place, Jungwon’s feelings for you are finally sorted out. 

Jungwon doesn’t need Harua, Wonyoung or Google to tell him that he likes you. 

He just knows it. 

Confessing is a whole other story, but Jungwon thinks that when the right time comes, he’ll do it. He doesn’t know much about love, with his entire life practically being devoted to the ice – but he knows that when it feels right, it must be the right time. 

So, Jungwon comes to two conclusions that night. 

One: he really likes you, and he doesn’t need anyone else to confirm it for him.

Two: he can’t believe that a Dispatch article made him realise that he really liked you. 

FOURTEEN. public skating session 

You ask Jungwon if you’d like to skate at another public rink after the Grand Prix Final is over.

He immediately says yes.

He doesn’t take you up on the offer to wear rental skates though, so both of you lace up your skates on the bench, Jungwon putting your bags into a cubbyhole. 

“Let’s go, Wonie!” you say, and he finds his heart fluttering at the nickname. He follows you onto the rink like the first time, and you two skate side by side, at a way slower pace than usual to be mindful of the other skaters at the rink.

“How does it feel to be the 2026 Grand Prix Final champion?” you ask him, and he smiles at you. “Hmm. I don’t know,” Jungwon replies. “I should be asking you that.”

You and Jungwon both winning in your respective categories were amazing for the media. Yang Jungwon and (Name), figure skaters rumoured to be dating win Men’s Grand Prix Final and Women’s Grand Prix Final was the headline. But at least Dispatch can add more to their article, and you and Jungwon get to go home with shiny gold medals. 

“Feels pretty good. Two years in a row,” you say, and he pats you on the back. “You deserved it,” Jungwon says. “Have I ever told you how in awe I am whenever I watch you skate?” 

“Thank you,” you say, chuckling as your cheeks turn hot at the compliment. “Your skating is amazing as well — that step sequence in World Dreams? Gave me actual chills. I saw a tear drop from a woman’s eye when I was seated in the crowd.”

“Really?” Jungwon asks, and you nod. “She was bawling by the end of it, I think.” you say, and Jungwon softly smiles. “I’m glad my skating made her feel something… hopefully all good things though.” 

“Most definitely good things. She threw 5 cat plushies onto the ice. I think she’s a hardcore fan.” you reply. “She might’ve dethroned my spot as your number one fan.” 

“Hey,” Jungwon says, pouting. “You texted me when I was at Skate Canada saying that you’d always be my number one fan.” 

“Yeah, but she was like a diehard fan,” you say. “Don’t worry though, I’ll throw out 15 cat plushies when you skate during Nationals. I’m taking my spot back.” 

“I’ll throw out more than 15 polar bear plushies when you skate at Nationals. I’ll throw out 16.” 

“Are you challenging me?” 

“Yeah,” Jungwon says, a smile never leaving his lips. 

“We can just be each other’s number one fan.” you say, and Jungwon nods. “Deal. So can I get your autograph?” he jokes. 

“Sure thing,” you say, playing along. You motion for him to hold his palm out, and you trace your autograph on his hand. “There you go!” you say, tracing a smiley face and a heart as well. 

“I’ll treasure this forever,” he quips. 

“You better.” 

You two fall into a comfortable silence as you both skate laps around the rink, observing the other people there. Like last time, there are couples on dates, there are little kids learning to skate, and there’s people who actually figure skate, doing spins in the centre of the rink. 

“Right, I was going to say. You seem way, way more happier on the ice than you were before,” you tell Jungwon, who nods. “Yeah. I think I actually like skating again. I mean… I can’t exactly say love, because you know… sometimes I just revert back to the way I used to think whenever I fail at something.” he replies. “But competitions are a lot more fun. The ice doesn’t drain me of all my energy anymore, and winning medals sort of brings me fulfilment again.”

“That’s amazing, Won.” you say. 

Now that you think about it. Jungwon wanted to retire because he didn’t love skating anymore. But now that Jungwon enjoys it again, you’re left wondering if he’ll still continue competitive skating.

It’s as if Jungwon’s able to read your mind. “I’m not sure if I’ll retire or not. On one hand, skating is fun now… and I’d like to continue at least maybe for a little longer, but I’m also wondering if I should just… let go. Explore things outside of skating, even though I know I’ll probably come back to the ice every time.”

You let his words sink in for a moment. “I think… you don’t have to decide your future plans this early. You could decide at the Olympics, after you skate. Or you could even go to Worlds after the Olympics and decide then.”

“Yeah. I could do that.” Jungwon breathes out. “I’m just… indecisive and unsure of everything right now.”

“No, I get it,” you nod. “You have time, Jungwon. Don’t rush things.” you tell him. 

Jungwon agrees with you. Thinking about too much and thinking too far ahead were two of the many reasons why he fell out of love with figure skating. Now that he’s slowly started to enjoy it again, he knows he has to rid himself of his bad habits. 

“Okay. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to retire. If I was, I would’ve already done it by now.” he says, smiling. “And if I don’t retire this season, I’ll probably just retire in 2030. I can still fulfil my dream of leaving at the biggest stage.” 

“I feel like I’d do that as well, if I’m not gonna lie.” you say, and Jungwon tilts his head. “So are we retiring together?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I mean… if you don’t retire during this Olympics, then probably. But do what feels right, Won. Don’t do it because you feel pressure from others to keep going. If you love the sport, you’ll always find a way back to it, like something like professional skating, or coaching, or doing commentary. If you think it’s time, then it’s time.” 

Jungwon can always count on you for giving him great advice. 

“You’re right.” he says. “Anyways… enough about that.” he spots a penguin skating aid in the corner, and he skates up to grab a hold of it. He pushes it as he skates, and you can’t help but find the mere action adorable. 

You pull out your phone to record him, and you chuckle as you see him skate faster towards you. “Cute,” you say, and Jungwon’s cheeks flush pink. If you ask, he’ll blame it on the rink being cold. 

“You use it,” he says, pushing the skating aid towards you. You gladly take it, grabbing ahold of the handles, pushing it as you skate with Jungwon by your side. 

Talking to Jungwon is easy. He tells you about how he stores his medals in ziplock bags when he needs to take them to interviews, to which you propose a better idea: using socks (a trick you learned from none other than Yuzuru Hanyu himself.) He also tells you about his dog, Maeumi, who apparently had watched your Grand Prix de France free skate with him – Jungwon says that Maeumi was absolutely mesmerised by your performance, and it’s interesting how every single thing Jungwon says is able to bring a smile to your face. 

You tell him that you’d like to meet Maeumi, and he tells you that you’re welcome over anytime. Your heart flutters at the invitation that you accept warmly. “In fact, you could come over after we leave.” 

“Really?” you ask, and Jungwon nods. “It’s not like we’ll be spending more than an hour here anyways. We already spend most of our days at another rink – we’d get way too bored if we spend hours here like everyone else.” 

Jungwon is right. After 20 minutes of more skating and just talking to each other about your lives (as if you didn’t learn nearly absolutely everything about him during the off-season), you and Jungwon head over to his apartment, where you meet Maeumi. 

And as you play with Maeumi, gushing over how cute he is, you notice the fond smile on Jungwon’s lips as he watches you two from the couch. 

You don’t know why, but that look on Jungwon’s face makes you think that perhaps you two could be something more than friends. 

FIFTEEN. last nationals skate (?)

Jangmi calls Jungwon the day before the short program for Nationals. 

“I’m sorry for getting upset,” she tells him. “It’s your career, not mine.”

Jungwon sighs. “It’s fine. I don’t think I know what I want to do with my career either. Retiring is an option, and competing… also is another option now.” 

Jangmi somehow sounds happier at the sound of Jungwon’s words. “That's… good,” she says, trying to not make it obvious that continuing to skate is still an option for Jungwon. “What changed your mind?”

“I started liking it again.” he says, gazing at the sheet of ice in the Uijeongbu ice rink. The ice finally feels like home again, and instead of bringing him dread, Jungwon feels at ease at the rink now. The pressure is no longer something that drags him under – it is now something he uses to allow himself to skate better. 

Now when he skates, he feels his passion for it again. “Even the brightest of flames burn out,” you had said. His flame dimmed, nearly being put out entirely – but he’s more than happy to have been able to ignite it again. 

And as his music starts playing for the short program, Jungwon realises something as he glides across the ice elegantly. 

If he retires, this will be his last ever Nationals. 

This crowd, this rink, this atmosphere – it’ll be the last time he ever gets to experience this. He stays completely focused on his program, but this thought lingers at the back of his mind when he lands the quad lutz. 

The audience cheers, and Jungwon’s eyes catch sight of the banners that fans have made for him in the crowd, with encouraging words that bring a smile to Jungwon’s face. 

When he finishes his short program, Jungwon pumps his fist into the air, more than satisfied with his performance. He skates around the rink as the audience throws stuffed animals onto the ice, picking some up as he thanks the crowd. 

He bows before leaving the rink, Irene pulling him into a hug after he puts his skate guards on. “You did amazing.” she says, and Jungwon smiles. “Thank you,” he replies, as he makes his way to the Kiss and Cry.

As he waits patiently for his scores, he can’t stop thinking about how if he does decide to retire at the end of this season, that was his last ever short program at Nationals. He didn’t think this far ahead when he told Irene that he wanted to hang up his skates at the beginning of the off season, and now that he realises that he may be nearing the end of his career, Jungwon suddenly starts feeling a wave of sadness. 

He was nothing but sure about his decision when he told Irene that he’d be retiring. But now, sitting in the Kiss and Cry at quite possibly one of his last competitions ever, Jungwon thinks he might just want to hold on for a little longer. 

“The scores, please.” the announcer says, ending Jungwon’s train of thought. 

“The short program score for Yang Jungwon is 112.36, which currently puts him in first place.” 

The crowd erupts into cheers at his score, and Jungwon smiles in satisfaction while Irene claps. “Good job,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her. He stands up, bowing once again before leaving the Kiss and Cry, and everything just slowly starts sinking in. 

If this was his last short program ever at Nationals, at least he did well. 

But Jungwon doesn’t want this to be his last ever Nationals. The feeling of wanting nothing more than to just leave the ice has completely disappeared in a matter of months, and Jungwon now just wants to stay. 

Maybe it isn’t time to hang up his skates. 

After finding his passion for skating again, Jungwon just wants to feel the thrill of competition. He dreaded competitions months ago, but now his feelings towards the ice have completely changed. Winning medals can finally bring him satisfaction again – he’s being acknowledged for being good at something that he loves. 

He can now look at the cameras while standing atop that podium with a genuine smile on his face. He doesn’t feel like he’s a robot anymore, with  every move he makes when he skates programmed into his brain – he feels like he’s a writer, or a poet, telling his story on the ice. 

He changes out of his costume, putting on a hoodie and some sweatpants before leaving the locker room. He checks the time, realising that there’s only an hour until the women’s free skate – he promised you that he’d be in the crowd.

With 16 polar bear stuffed animals that he currently does not have. 

He rushes to the nearest toy shop, asking the staff if they have polar bear plushies still in stock, and luckily, they do. The shop assistant helping him looks slightly concerned when he asks for 16, but still brings them all out in a basket. “Is this for (Name)?” she asks, and Jungwon furrows his eyebrows, confused as to how she would know that. 

“Yeah… how’d you know?” 

“Bunch of people came in asking for polar bear stuffed toys to throw onto the ice for her.” she says, scanning all the polar bears. “Oh. That’s nice of them.” Jungwon replies. 

“You bought the most.” the shop assistant says, putting all of them into a large shopping bag for Jungwon, noticing how he only has a backpack that most certainly won’t fit 16 polar bear toys. 

“Oh, cool.” he says, swiping his card on the reader. The transaction goes through, and the shop assistant smiles at him before handing him his receipt. “Good luck to both you and (Name) on your free skates,” she tells him, and Jungwon thanks her before leaving the store. 

He makes it back to the Uijeongbu ice rink just in time, with Jongseob saving him a seat. “That’s a shit ton of polar bears you’ve got there,” Jongseob says, holding a plushie of Artemis from the Sailor Moon series to throw on the ice after Jiwon skates. 

“Yeah.” Jungwon replies, putting the shopping bag onto the ground. 

“You’re a dedicated boyf– fan!” 

“Enough.” 

There’s five groups of skaters, and you’re the last to skate. Jungwon cheers for each and every skater, but his cheers will definitely be the loudest for you. Jongseob yells as his life depends on it when Jiwon skates onto the ice. 

Soon enough, it’s your turn to skate. You look at the crowd, spotting Jungwon and Jongseob sitting together and you flash Jungwon a smile, whilst a shit-eating grin spreads across Jongseob’s lips. “Good luck,” he mouths to you, and you nod as a way of saying thank you. 

Your program goes well, for the most part – aside from falling on a quad toe loop and stepping out on a triple lutz. Jungwon knows that you’ve done enough to secure a podium spot – and a spot on the Olympic team, and it seems as if you know that too, tears streaming down your face the minute you finish your program. 

You’re going to the Olympics. You’ve finally achieved your lifelong dream.

Cheers and applause resound throughout the rink, with tons of polar bear stuffed toys being thrown out onto the ice by fans, and Jungwon is one of them. You see him throw out polar bear after polar bear from the shopping bag he’s holding, and a sweet smile spreads across Jungwon’s lips as he sees your surprised face.

“16?” you mouth at him, and Jungwon nods. You can’t help but clap your hands over your mouth to hide your laughter, and as the announcer calls your name again, you skate into the middle of the rink, bowing once again before leaving.

Eventually, it is you, Jiwon and another skater named Kim Chaeyeon who get named to the Olympic team. 

Like how Jungwon bought 16 plushies for you during your free skate, you buy 17. It’s a funny coincidence how you both end up going to the same toy shop, and the shop assistant gives you a smile when you enter. “Could I get… 17 cat plushies?”

“This is for Yang Jungwon, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“He said the same thing when he came in yesterday to get 16 polar bear plushies for you,” she says, taking the toys and putting them into a basket. You have a nice conversation with her before you leave the shop with a large bag holding exactly 17 cat plushies. 

You notice multiple things when you’re in the audience. Jiwon has a stuffed animal of a tiger in her lap that she throws out onto the ice when Jongseob skates. She also gives you a look as if to tell you not to tease her about it. You also see tons of people holding cat plushies, ready to throw onto the ice after Jungwon skates, and you’re one of those people too. 

You also notice the passion Jungwon now has for skating. He commands the ice, moving fluidly across the rink – Jungwon is a phenomenal skater. Goosebumps rise up on your skin, and you don’t think any other skater has been able to convey emotions to the audience this effectively. 

Like you, Jungwon qualifies for a spot on the Olympic team. 

He gazes at you as you throw cat plushies onto the ice, and a fond smile spreads across his lips. “17?” he mouths at you, and you nod. 

Jungwon wonders if your heart’s beating as fast as his. 

Little does he know, it is. 

SIXTEEN. born to skate

Just being able to go to the Olympics is truly sensational.

You weren’t even able to fully process it until you saw a staff member walk up to you and hand you your Olympic security pass. Your name’s on it, along with the 2026 Milano Cortina logo on the right – and under your name, it says athlete. 

You can’t believe a security pass might actually make you burst into tears. 

Jungwon hangs his security pass over his neck, and then turns to look at you. “You okay?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “It’s just kind of crazy. I’m going to compete at the Olympics – Wonie, oh my god. I’m an Olympian.” 

“You are,” he says. He takes your hand, locking his fingers with yours and gives your hand a tight squeeze. The mere action makes your face feel hot, your heart beating in your chest incredibly fast. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.” 

“You will too,” you say, beaming at him. You don’t want him to let go of your hand. Jungwon doesn’t want to let go either. 

He only let go when Jongseob and Jiwon were walking towards you two. 

That aside, time seems to go by faster for some reason. You arrived in Italy 2 days before the men’s short program event, and today’s already the day. Jungwon changes into his costume, and zips on the South Korea team jacket before he leaves the changing room. 

“You ready?” you ask him.

“Yeah. I'm a little nervous, but it’ll go away when I start skating.” he replies, and you smile. “You’ve got this, Won.” you say, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Before he starts skating, Jungwon looks into the crowd to spot where you’re seated. You give him a thumbs up, and he smiles softly before getting into his starting position. 

Jungwon has missed the Olympic ice. 

In the crowd, you notice how Jungwon’s skating even better than he did at Nationals. He skates with  pure emotion – as if this skate could very well be his last. 

Then the realisation hits you like a truck. 

If Jungwon did decide to retire, sticking with his original plans – this would be his last competitive short program, ever. And now every move he makes on the ice seems to have a whole new meaning for you. 

He skates like he’s got everything on the line. Time and time again, Jungwon tells the audience that he was born to skate – but this performance proves it. Every jump, every spin, every transition, every choreo sequence and every step sequence is executed to absolute perfection. 

Yang Jungwon is a master of his craft. Nobody can doubt that. 

Nobody will doubt that after this performance.

Jungwon has sacrificed hours, days, months and years to produce a performance like this. He has never felt such fulfilment, such satisfaction after skating – the only word he can use to describe how he feels after his skate is that he is proud. 

He is proud that he was able to put out a performance like that. He is proud that he’ll be recognised for an impeccable short program. But most importantly, he is proud that he delivered a program of such quality whilst enjoying every moment he had on that Olympic ice. 

And when the scores are announced, saying that he is currently in first, Jungwon doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier. Irene hugs him tightly, and Jungwon’s practically shaking in disbelief. 

Nobody beats his short program score for the night. Jungwon knows the medal is just within his reach. 

Feeling victory finally feels good, and Jungwon hasn’t even won yet. 

When you rush up to him immediately after he exits his changing room, you wrap him in a huge hug, and at first, he’s startled by your action. But he immediately hugs you back, his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink that he knows he’ll get teased about if Harua sees it. 

“Won, that was incredible!” you could gush over his performance for hours and hours on end. “You were absolutely mesmerising. The image you were painting inside my head – all of our heads! It was so vivid. I felt like I could feel what you felt as you were skating. Everyone was blown away. You’re absolutely sensational.”

Jungwon thinks of you in an incredibly high regard. So hearing these words from you makes his eyes well up slightly with tears, and you immediately notice. 

“Don’t cry!” you say, wrapping him in another hug. “I just needed you to know how incredible you are.” 

Jungwon needs you to know how incredible you are as well.

He feels nothing but warmth as he’s in your embrace, and truly, perhaps this is what Jungwon thinks he might call love. Because you care for him in a way that nobody else has. You didn’t know him well at the time, but still offered to try and get him to enjoy skating again. You push him to be a better skater, and a better person – and Jungwon didn’t think he knew what love was.

But now he thinks he does.

Quite simply, love is you. 

And he cares for you more than he cares about anyone else, even if he thinks that he is terrible at showing it. He isn’t the best when it comes to love, or relationships – but he’s learning. He’s learning all because of you. 

In less than one year, you have changed Jungwon’s life entirely.

You’ve taught him how to have fun skating again. You’ve taught him to allow himself to loosen up, and not let pressure define him. You’ve also taught him what it’s like to be loved. And how to love. 

Jungwon doesn’t know if this is a stretch, but he feels like you might’ve quite literally saved him. Jungwon is forever grateful for the fact that you walked into his life the moment he needed someone like you. 

And Jungwon is more than sure that he indeed does love you. 

Jungwon feels relief when he finally admits it to himself. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knew that he loved you all this time – he just didn’t exactly confront himself about his feelings. 

With you by his side, Jungwon feels like an Olympic gold medalist already. 

SEVENTEEN. olympic ice

The free skate rolls around faster than Jungwon thought.

But he thinks that he’s prepared. He’ll give it his all tonight. He doesn’t even think about the upcoming decision he has to make about his career – he personally believes that the idea that he could possibly win Olympic gold feels a little more important than that.

He knows you’re in the crowd, watching him. It gives him an extra boost of confidence. Jungwon doesn’t realise this until now, but he seems to skate better when you’re in the audience. Perhaps you’re his lucky charm. 

He’s last to skate, being first in the short program. Jungwon’s fully focused during the couple minutes of warm up, jumping a triple axel that he manages to land well, and a quad toe that he finds is a little shaky on the landing, but he’ll try and land it cleanly in the actual program.

Over the speaker, it’s announced that the warmup time is over. Jungwon and some of the other skaters leave the ice, and the first person skating in the group starts his program. 

Whilst the other skater performs, Jungwon runs through his entire program in his head. He can’t let the pressure get to him – he knows he’ll do worse. He reminds himself to have fun. He’ll be skating on Olympic ice for possibly the last time ever, so he knows that he’ll have to make this count. 

Your words ring in his head as he waits for the skaters before him to finish performing their programs. Skating is something that is meant to be enjoyed with the audience. 

Jungwon decides that he will enjoy every minute and every second of it. 

Irene gives him a thumbs up before he skates out to the centre of the rink. “You’ve got this, Jungwon. Stay focused, stay calm.” she tells him, and Jungwon nods. 

“You go kill it out there.” she says, smiling at him.

Jungwon skates off, and Irene just has the proudest look on her face. She knows that this could very well be the last competitive skate of Jungwon’s life. No matter the result, she would be proud – Yang Jungwon has accomplished so much in his career at the age of 22. 

“Last to skate: Yang Jungwon, of South Korea!” 

The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, Jungwon raising his arms above his head. He lets them fall back down by his sides, doing a couple twizzles around the rink before skating into the centre.

He gets into his starting position, and the music starts. 

He’s done this program tons and tons of times before. He knows exactly what to do at the exact second, twirling across the ice gracefully. First, is the quad lutz. 

You hold your breath in anticipation as he sets up the jump, taking off – and he lands it. 

With one jump, Jungwon makes the crowd go absolutely crazy. Their shouts die down soon after, allowing Jungwon to listen to the music so he knows when and what he needs to do next. 

He successfully lands more jumps, including a quad salchow-quad toe loop combo that he’s able to land flawlessly. Everything is going well, Jungwon thinks. 

As he skates beautiful transitions on the ice, you catch his eye. You’re gazing right at him with the softest look on your face, and Jungwon thinks his heart might melt. You nod at him, as a way to tell him that he’s doing great.

Jungwon doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know how, but in the middle of his Olympic free skate, he feels more compelled to confess his feelings for you than ever. 

He knows that he just has to tell you. 

When he realised he liked you, he decided that he had to wait for the right time to confess. He didn’t exactly know when the right time would be, or if he would ever even find the right time. He also certainly didn’t expect it to be right in the middle of his free skate.

But everything is crystal clear. Jungwon knows it’s the right time, and he can’t exactly shout out that he loves you when he’s currently preparing to jump a triple axel, but he knows the second he’s able to, he will. 

It’s as if time slows, and you’re the only one in the audience. Jungwon only sees you. You two are just in your little bubble – just you, him, and the ice. 

Jungwon skates with so much power, and so much emotion, trying to express every word he wants to say to you, but with his skating. The crowd’s cheers get louder every time Jungwon lands a jump, and it only gives Jungwon motivation to keep getting better and better. 

Olympic gold is so close. If he just reached up and grabbed it, the shining gold plaque would be right in his hands – and Jungwon knows that he cannot let that slip away between his fingers. His whole life has led up to this moment. Falling in love with the ice, then finding that he had let himself hate it, and then trying to ignite that love and passion he had for skating once more. All of this, allowed for him to skate the cleanest program he’s ever skated at the world’s biggest stage for figure skating. 

The music ends, and the crowd erupts with cheers. Jungwon stands there, shocked and still in his ending position. He feels like he can’t move. 

He can’t believe it. 

Did he just win Olympic gold? 

Countless cat plushies fall onto the ice around him as Jungwon just bursts into tears. Irene’s crying as well, tears of joy streaming down on her face as she claps. Jungwon tries to spot you in the crowd, and when he does, he sees you jumping up and down excitedly with Jiwon, and you just look so incredibly happy for him. 

After the toughest years of his career, fighting to try and keep going in a sport he loved no longer, Jungwon is finally able to love figure skating again, and he might have just won Olympic gold in the process. 

He’s still in shock when he leaves the rink, and Irene pulls him into the tightest hug she’s ever given him, as Jungwon cries into her shoulder. “You did it.” she says.

“I did it.” he says – he can’t even believe the words he just said. He heads to the Kiss and Cry with Irene, pulling out tissues from his tissue box nonstop to wipe his tears away. 

Jungwon waits in the Kiss and Cry for his scores – he knows that he’s won. He just needs the scores to confirm it. 

And sure enough, mere minutes later, Yang Jungwon is announced as the 2026 men’s Olympic figure skating champion.

Jungwon can’t stop crying. Tears just keep falling down his cheeks as he bows to everyone. He can’t even use the word joy to describe what he’s feeling. He never thought he could feel this happy after winning a competition. 

If you told Jungwon months ago that he’d be crying tears of joy after winning a competition, he most certainly wouldn’t have believed you. 

The venue ceremony is soon. So soon to the point where Jungwon isn’t even able to come up to you and tell you how he feels. He’ll do it as soon as the ceremony is over. 

As Jungwon steps onto the highest block on the podium, he’s still in disbelief. It isn’t until the medal actually gets hung around his neck, and he touches the shiny golden plaque. He’s not just Olympian Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 2025 World champion Yang Jungwon. He’s not just 6 time National champion Yang Jungwon. 

Now, he’s also Olympic champion Yang Jungwon. 

Falling back in love with skating was hard. Sometimes he felt like simply just giving up was the easier option – but now with the Olympic gold medal right in his hands, Jungwon knows that pushing through it was the right thing to do. He’s never been more sure of that. 

Jungwon has also never been more sure about the fact that he loves you, and he desperately needs to tell you. As soon as the venue ceremony is over, Jungwon rushes out of the rink, quickly changing from his skates to his regular training shoes – he doesn’t even bother to change out of his free skate costume. 

He finds you standing outside of his changing room, and before you can say anything, he wraps you in the tightest hug ever. He holds you like you’re oxygen, and he’s struggling to breathe. 

When he pulls away from the hug, with the gold medal dangling around his neck, he grasps ahold of your hands. “Jungwon, you did it.” you say, tears welling in your eyes. 

“I have to tell you something.” he murmurs. He opens the door of his changing room, pulling you in with him as he shuts the door. “What is it?” you ask.

“I love you.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“I have never, ever known what it’s like to love someone. Even figuring out that I liked you was so hard – because I knew that I felt differently when I was around you, but I couldn’t exactly pinpoint it on what it was. Then, I was told I had a crush on you. I liked you. And that seemed right. Liking you seemed right.” he says, as you let his words sink in. “I was going to wait until I found the right time to tell you that I liked you. But two days ago, I realised that my feelings towards you seem to be more than like. Love. Yes. I love you.” he says, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Saying it sounds right. Saying it now feels right. And I don’t know if you would feel the same way – but I just saw you in the crowd as I was skating today, and I just knew I had to tell you.” 

Jungwon can’t exactly read your reaction until you pull him into a hug. 

“I love you too.” you say.

Jungwon feels like he’s on top of the world. Four simple words managed to make him even happier than he already was after winning the Olympics – he feels like his heart is about to burst at the seams, and he can’t hide the bright grin on his lips. 

“That’s… that’s nice. I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” Jungwon confesses, and you frown, cupping his cheeks as you wipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same way, Jungwon?”

“I don’t know.”

You smile softly at him. “I realised that I liked you after we went to the ramen shop that Harua had suggested to us.” 

“You realised earlier than me, then.” Jungwon chuckles. 

“I guess so.”

Jungwon can’t believe he only just realised the close proximity between your faces. Your gaze travels to his lips, before you look back up at his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon whispers back.

You lean in, connecting your lips with his, and warmth just blooms across Jungwon’s chest, his cheeks, and all the way to the tip of his ears. He can taste the mint flavoured lip balm that he always sees you put on, and it’s only when you pull away that Jungwon realises that it was his first kiss. 

You smile at him brightly, and Jungwon mirrors the expression on your face. It’s hard not to smile when he sees you – you just make him so incredibly happy. Jungwon knows that you make him happier than any Olympic gold ever would. 

The sweet moment is cut short when Jungwon’s whisked away to the press conference, and you tell him that you’ll be seated in the crowd to watch. He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek before running off, his cheeks tinted bright red as you chuckle at his reaction. 

“How do you feel after a wildly successful season like this, Jungwon?” a reporter asks, and Jungwon thinks about what is the best way to answer his question. 

“This was… a tough season for me mentally.” he says into the microphone. “In all honesty, I fell out of love with figure skating quite some time ago. Going into this season, I was certain that I was going to retire after the Olympics.” 

Every single person in the room looks at him with wide eyes. 

“But, during the off season, I was lucky enough to meet someone who helped me start enjoying it again.” he says, looking directly at you. “They taught me that above all, I should be enjoying myself while I skate, instead of focusing on the pressures to win and do well.” 

“I don’t think I expected to do as well as I did all season,” Jungwon says earnestly. “But I realised that the more I enjoyed skating, the better I did. I think coming into the Olympics, I just tried to focus on having fun and showing the audience my best. Because of this, I think that’s why I was able to do well.” 

“So will this be your last competition?” 

Jungwon presses his lips together in a thin line, as if he’s still unsure about what decision he’s going to make. But when he locks eyes with you, it’s like everything clicks into place. He knows what he wants. He wants to skate. 

“It’s not my last competition,” he says. “I’m going to keep competing. At least for a little while longer. I realised that I can’t exactly let go of the ice this soon when I’ve just started loving it again.”

As he says that into the microphone, Jungwon knows that it’s the right call. There’s a proud smile on your lips, and Jungwon returns the gesture.   

The ice finally feels like home once more. But, Jungwon also realises that home is also wherever you are. 

[mingi-s-dimples]

A birthday to remember - jisung (nct)

This is a lil special fic for my lovely bestie @musiclovingfairy, it's her b-day today and I am really far away from her so I thought this would do hihi.

pairing: jisung (nct) x fem reader

rating: G- general audience

genre: fluff, romance, non idol au

summary: Your lovely boyfriend decides to throw you a small birthday party, only between the two of you.

WC: 2.2k

warnings: it literally doesn't have warnings LMAO. Maybe drinking? unedited

Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEE <3333. I know we live soo so far away from each other but I am a sucker for giving gifts, even without a reason, so I couldn't stay still. I love you so much so please, enjoy this lil fic! <3 edit: yes, i know Jisung is not... the best in the kitchen but it's fiction so HAHAHAH

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The day had been long, the kind that seemed to drag with every passing hour. Work had been relentless, the usual stack of tasks somehow growing even larger as the day wore on. By the time the clock finally signaled the end of your shift, you were exhausted, your body aching for rest and your mind yearning for something more than the sterile walls of the office.

But today was special—your birthday. And despite the fatigue, there was a quiet excitement bubbling beneath the surface, a small flicker of anticipation that kept you going through the day. Jisung had been uncharacteristically quiet about any plans for my birthday, and though you tried not to read too much into it, a part of you wondered if he had something planned. The two of you had only been dating for a few months, but every day with him had felt like a new adventure, filled with the kind of warmth and joy that made even the simplest moments feel special.

As you made your way home, the evening air was crisp, carrying with it the first hints of autumn. The streets were quiet, the sky painted in deep shades of purple and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. You reached my apartment building, steps heavy with the weight of the day, heart still light with the possibility of what might be waiting for you.

You fumbled with my keys, pushing open the door to my apartment, and was immediately greeted by the soft glow of candlelight. The living room, usually lit by the harsh glow of overhead lights, was now bathed in a warm, inviting light that seemed to wrap itself around you like a comforting embrace.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you took in the scene before your eyes. The small table in the center of the room was adorned with a simple but elegant arrangement of flowers, their vibrant colors standing out against the soft white tablecloth. A few more candles flickered on the windowsill, their flames dancing gently as if welcoming you home. The scent of something delicious wafted from the kitchen, and as you stepped further into the room, Jisung appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

"Happy birthday," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. He took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you, and before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a gentle hug. The tension in your body melted away as you leaned into him, the comfort of his embrace washing over your body.

"Jisung, this is amazing," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. You pulled back slightly to look at him, eyes searching his for any hint of what else he might have planned. But all You saw was the same tenderness that had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that made you feel safe and cherished.

"I wanted to do something special for you," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "You've been working so hard, and I know today was tough. So I thought, why not make tonight all about you?"

You smiled, heart swelling with gratitude and love. "Thank you, Jisung. This is… this is perfect."

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with that familiar playful glint. "Well, it's not over yet. I have a few more surprises up my sleeve."

Before you could ask what he meant, he took your hand and led to the table, pulling out a chair with a flourish. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, the tension of the day fully dissipating as he sat you down. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, leaving you to take in the details of the scene he had set. The flowers were beautiful, a mix of your favorite blooms arranged with care. The candles cast a soft, romantic light over everything, feeling a warmth spread through that had nothing to do with the flames.

When Jisung returned, he was carrying a tray with two plates, each covered with a dome. He set them down, lifting the covers to reveal a beautifully plated meal. Your mouth watered at the sight of the perfectly cooked steak, accompanied by roasted vegetables and a side of mashed potatoes that looked like they had been whipped to perfection.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, his voice tinged with pride. "I spent all afternoon making this."

Eyes widened in surprise. "You made this yourself? Jisung, it looks incredible!"

He shrugged, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I wanted it to be special. And besides, I know how much you love steak."

You smiled, heart swelling with affection for the man sitting across. "You're amazing, you know that?"

He ducked his head, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I'm just glad you like it. Now, let's eat before it gets cold."

The two of you dug into the meal, the rich flavors of the food making me hum with delight. Jisung had outdone himself; the steak was cooked to perfection, tender and flavorful, and the vegetables were roasted just right, their natural sweetness enhanced by a hint of seasoning. The mashed potatoes were creamy and smooth, the perfect complement to the other elements of the dish.

As you ate, you talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly between the two of you. It was one of the things you loved most about being with Jisung—how easy it was to be yourself around him, to share thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment or misunderstanding. He had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel interesting, his curiosity and enthusiasm infectious.

Once you finished our meal, Jisung stood up, clearing the dishes away with a contented smile. You watched him move about the kitchen with ease, feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude settle in your chest. This was the first birthday the two of you were spending together, and you couldn't have asked for a more thoughtful and intimate celebration.

After the dishes were cleared, Jisung returned to the living room with two glasses of wine and a small, elegantly wrapped box. He handed you one of the glasses and sat down besides, on the couch, the box resting in his lap.

"Before we get to dessert, I have something for you," he said, his voice soft but laced with excitement.

Your curiosity piqued, set the wine glass on the coffee table and reached for the box. The wrapping paper was a beautiful deep blue, tied with a silver ribbon that shimmered in the candlelight. You carefully untied the ribbon, savoring the moment before lifting the lid of the box.

Inside was a delicate silver necklace, its pendant a simple yet elegant design—a small, intricately carved leaf, its edges catching the light in a way that made it almost glow. It was beautiful, understated, and perfect for you.

You looked up at Jisung, eyes misting with emotion. "Jisung, it's beautiful. I love it."

He smiled, a hint of relief in his eyes as he took the necklace from the box. "I'm glad you like it. I saw it and thought it would suit you perfectly."

He gently clasped the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushing against the skin as he did so. The pendant settled just above your collarbone, its weight a comforting reminder of Jisung's thoughtfulness. You touched the leaf pendant with my fingers, feeling the cool metal against the skin.

"Thank you, Jisung," I whispered, turning to look at him. "This means so much to me."

His gaze softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from my face. "You mean a lot to me, too. I wanted to make sure this birthday was special for you."

"It already is," you replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. The kiss was gentle, lingering, and when we pulled away, the connection between the two of you felt even stronger.

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping our wine and enjoying the quiet intimacy of the evening. The candles flickered softly around you, casting shadows that danced on the walls, and the warmth of the room was matched only by the warmth in your heart.

After a few moments, Jisung stood up again, this time heading to the kitchen with a mischievous grin. "Don't go anywhere," he called over his shoulder. "I have one more surprise for you."

You chuckled, curiosity once again getting the better of you as you waited for him to return. A few minutes later, he reappeared, carrying a small cake on a plate. It was a simple but elegant dessert, topped with fresh berries and a dusting of powdered sugar. In the center of the cake was a single candle, its flame flickering softly.

Jisung set the cake down in front of you, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "Make a wish," he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

You closed my eyes, taking a moment to think of a wish before blowing out the candle. The flame extinguished with a soft puff, leaving behind a thin trail of smoke that curled into the air. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was watching with a tender expression that made your heart skip a beat.

He handed you a fork, and together, you dug into the cake. The first bite was heavenly, the light sponge cake paired perfectly with the sweet-tartness of the berries. As you ate, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love and care Jisung had put into making this evening special.

"You really went all out for this, didn't you?" you said, voice filled with gratitude.

Jisung shrugged, a playful grin on his lips. "Well, I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me. Plus, it's your birthday—you deserve to be spoiled."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through. "I don't know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, Jisung."

He reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing over the knuckles. "I think I'm the lucky one."

You finished the cake, the evening slipping into a comfortable silence as you sat together, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in the glow of the candles and the warmth of our connection. It was a moment of perfect contentment, the kind that made you realize how truly special this night was.

As the candles burned lower and the wine in our glasses dwindled, Jisung turned your way, his eyes serious for a moment. "There's one more thing I wanted to say."

You looked at him, heart suddenly racing as you wondered what he was about to say. His gaze was intense, filled with a depth of emotion that made your breath hitch.

"Tonight was about celebrating you," he began, his voice steady but soft. "But it's also about us. I want you to know how much you mean to me. These last few months have been some of the happiest of my life, and I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, heart swelling with love for the man sitting besides. "Jisung, I feel the same way. You've brought so much joy and happiness into my life. I can't imagine being without you either."

He smiled, his eyes shining with emotion as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against mine. "I'm so glad you feel that way. Because I want to keep making you happy, for as long as you'll let me."

You smiled through the tears, feeling a rush of love and gratitude for this moment, for this man who had gone out of his way to make your birthday so special. "I don't think I'll ever want you to stop."

He kissed you then, a deep, lingering kiss that seemed to convey all the emotions the two of you were feeling. When he finally pulled away, you were both smiling, hearts full to bursting.

The night continued on, the two of you curled up on the couch, talking and laughing until the early hours of the morning. It was a night of simple pleasures, of intimate moments that made you feel more connected to Jisung than ever before.

As the last of the candles finally flickered out, leaving you in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows, you realized just how perfect this birthday had been. It wasn't about the gifts or the cake or even the romantic dinner—though all of those things had been wonderful. It was about the love and care that Jisung had put into making this day special and the deep connection that you shared.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, you knew that this was a birthday you would remember for the rest of your life. It was the night that you truly understood just how much Jisung meant, and how lucky you were to have him by your side.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of many more happy birthdays to come.

~Happy birthday, dear Hana <3

[buddierecs]

secret relationship buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

our love is all we need (to make it through) by: chimneysrebar "buck and eddie decide to hide their relationship from their friends. It goes about as well as you would expect" word count: 3.1k important tags: sleepy cuddles, eddie diaz loves evan buckley, firehouse 118 crew as family, fluff

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft by: justhockey “i don’t think you need a dad, that’s not how families work, right? like, they all look different,” chris says. “but it’s okay if you want one. there’s nothing wrong with that.” “what’s it like, having two?” denny asks, and buck has to cover his mouth so he doesn’t give himself away. christopher’s laugh is loud, and sweet, and tugs on buck’s heartstrings in the same way that it always has done. he doesn’t even hesitate to say, “it’s fun. i love them.” word count: 4k important tags family fluff, soft eddie diaz, christopher diaz has two dads, firehouse crew as family it's golden, like daylight by: rarakiplin "the sun comes up" word count: 8.7k important tags: getting together, weddings, fluff, first dates when you come home by: 7ate9 "buck was surviving. that was the least he could do. survive with his son, his new position as a probationary firefighter, while his fiance was overseas. it was too painful to talk about. so no one could know." word count: 19k important tags: army!eddie diaz, reunions, firehouse 118 crew as family, engaged!evan buckley/eddie diaz don't tell my husband (he'll kill me) by: coupe_de_foudre all bobby has to say, as buck is hightailing it towards danger, is a low, threatening, “don’t make me call eddie.” and buck will skid to a stop, pause, and eventually turn around and slink back towards the team like a scolded dog with his tail between his legs." word count: 2.6k important tags: army!eddie diaz, hurt/comfort, light angst, married buddie, pov outsider blindspot by ashwinmeird "hen was starting to accept that buck's life would always be a mystery to her and the others. Then the 136 gets a new probie, eddie diaz, and buck doesn't appear to be the guy's biggest fan. but there's something, some secret, hen isn't privy to and she was going to get to the bottom of whatever was happening between buck and eddie." word count: 10k important tags: alternative universe, pov outsider, oblivious, confusion, relationship reveal

give me a sign, i want you next to me by: 42hrb the 118 knows buck has a really cute kid and a partner he loves, they just think that partner is his husbands ex. word count: 7k important tags: army!eddie diaz, different first meeting au, married buddie, evan buckley and shannon diaz friendship, family fluff and the winner is.... by: heartsdalliances "when maddie convinces buck to join her and the rest of the couples of the 118 on a couples game-show with eddie as his partner, he does so hesitantly, if only because he knows that by the end of it -- the rest of the team will realize he and Eddie are way more than best friends." word count: 18k important tags: game show, fluff, angst, 118 team as family

there's a rumor going around (about me and you) by: justhockey “$100 says he’s not taking a girl home tonight,” eddie wagers. all four of them look at him with stunned looks on their faces, as if they can’t possibly believe eddie is being so stupid. eddie shrugs, holds his arms out in a take it or leave it kind of gesture. of course, they all think he’s insane, so -- “deal,” athena says." word count: 3.1k important tags bets and wagers, drinking, clingy!eddie diaz, karaoke, coming out, flirting welcome to the family by: shutupheather "eddie gets hurt on the job. the team meets and comforts his husband in the hospital waiting room." word count: 3.4k important tags: married buddie, alternative universe, hurt!eddie diaz, worried!evan buckley finally found it right here by: justhockey "he just wants to sleep. but then eddie is placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and shaking. - “buck, what did you just say?” - buck huffs out a sigh. “i said maddie is in lab-“ - Oh fuck. word count: 3.4k important tags: coming out, babies, fluff

explicit rated secret relationship fics mature rated secret relationship fics

[thefrogdalorian]

Hello and welcome to my masterlist!

You can find most of my fics on my AO3, if you prefer to read over there, and I reblog all new fics on @thefrogdalorianfics if you want to be notified here on tumblr when I post something new!

Ongoing Works:

Modern AU!Din x F!Reader: The Best of Both Worlds

Newest Work:

The Bake Sale: When Grogu brings news of an upcoming Bake Sale hosted by the little school he attends between missions with the New Republic on Nevarro, his father enthusiastically throws himself into baking the the sweetest treats to impress his classmates. Even though Din's devotion to the task makes you feel like there is a third person in your marriage, you are charmed by his determination. While the fruits of his labour are delicious, but you discover that Din Djarin's love is the sweetest treat of them all...

Requests:

Currently open, here. No guarantees but if you have anything you'd like to see, feel free to let me know!

I write: Din x Reader, Din x Bo-Katan (but as long as it's Mando related I'm open to giving it a shot!)

I don't write: smut (on request) some ships (ask if unsure!)

Note:

Most of my fics are for general audiences and GN!Reader

I tag my fics thoroughly, please look at the specific warnings for each fic before you read!

I do not own any of these characters (I wish I did). However, this writing is my work and I do not give permission for any part of it to be reposted without prior consent from me.

All headers/dividers are created by me, I do not give permission for them to be reused.

The Best of Both Worlds [ongoing]

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature ✯ 84k+ ✯

Modern!AU Din x Female Reader: To maintain his privacy and his son Grogu's well-being, Din Djarin agreed to the role of The Mandalorian on one condition: complete anonymity. He has never engaged with fans of the hit Star Wars show... until the day he visits a convention and crosses paths with you...

General:

Dincember 2023

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 54k ✯

Summary: Snapshots from your first chance-meeting with Din Djarin on your homeworld, to the life you are building together with Grogu in his cabin on Nevarro and ultimately your preparations to celebrate Life Day together for the first time, including a trip to a snowy mountain paradise.

Downpour

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1k ✯

Summary: Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.

My Pain Fits In The Palm Of Your Freezing Hand

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.2k ✯

Summary: When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

The Bake Sale

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 3.8k✯

Summary: When Grogu brings news of an upcoming Bake Sale hosted by the little school he attends between missions with the New Republic on Nevarro, his father enthusiastically throws himself into baking the the sweetest treats to impress his classmates. Even though Din's devotion to the task makes you feel like there is a third person in your marriage, you are charmed by his determination. While the fruits of his labour are delicious, but you discover that Din Djarin's love is the sweetest treat of them all...

Hold You in My Arms

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2k✯

Summary: Even with its outdated interior and the limitations that entails, The Razor Crest is your home. You find there is a certain charm about the old ship even if the bunk is a little uncomfortable. Though, it's even better when there is a Mandalorian to cuddle, armour and all.

Rest

✯ General ✯ 3.1k ✯

Summary: Despite how often you have pleaded with Din to stop and rest, your calls have gone unheeded. Your stubborn Mandalorian will not stop and take care of himself. So, when he arrives back from his latest job with the New Republic utterly exhausted, you take matters into your own hands and ensure he gets the rest he so desperately needs.

Sanctuary

✯ General ✯ 1.2k ✯

Summary: It's one of those days when your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Despite the horrible day you're having, you try your best to keep it together. A feat you manage, until a certain Mandalorian arrives home and takes you into his arms.

Hold Me Close

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 3.4k ✯

Summary:  In the aftermath of Grogu's departure to be with his own kind, your riduur is nowhere to be found, with little indication - other than a message disk - as to his whereabouts. You anxiously await his return. Yet the man who eventually comes back to you is a broken, shadow of the man you fell in love with.

Always

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.5k ✯

Summary: You wake up from an incredibly distressing nightmare in which Din and Grogu had suddenly vanished from your life without a trace. Fortunately, Din is there to console you with his comforting embrace and soothing words. He leaves you feeling optimistic about the future, rather than dreading what lies ahead for the pair of you.

Such a Heavenly View

✯ General ✯ 2.3k ✯

Summary: For the past few months you've been babysitting the child of a mysterious Mandalorian who lives on Nevarro. One day, to your surprise, he wants to spend the day with you and hike to the top of a volcano. After an unfortunate mishap on the way, you discover that the man beneath the armour is surprisingly gentle and sentimental...

All The Nice Things In Life

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.5k ✯

Summary: During a weekly trip to your favourite Market on Nevarro, you get a little overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. Fortunately, you have an exceptionally caring and attentive Mandalorian for a partner, who manages to calm you down and make you see that you are not a burden to him, despite your worries.

Even Your Worst Days

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 4.3k ✯

Summary: After returning from a recent job with the New Republic, Din finds you feeling overwhelmed and burnt out due to his absence. Din had not realised how much you were struggling and when he realises how upset you are he moves to reassure you, lifting your spirit and boosting your confidence in the way that only he is capable of. You realise that Din loves you unconditionally... even on your worst days.

From Now Until The End

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 5.4k ✯

Summary: After being away from you as part of his job with the New Republic, your partner Din surprises you with a trip to the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine to make up for it. But instead of the fun-filled day he had planned, you are overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds and noises. It leads you to finally share a part of yourself with Din that you had been hiding from him until now.

Teen:

Candles

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3.8k ✯

Summary: Even though Din insists he doesn't want you to make a fuss over his birthday, you cannot resist spoiling him in your own special way. Although your perfect day does not go entirely to plan, you are determined to make the best of it...

Nowhere Else To Run

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3.4k ✯

Summary: Despite the fact that sharing a cabin with you and Grogu on Nevarro has given him the peaceful life he was searching for, Din cannot escape the nightmares of his past which haunt him most nights. Although he feels unworthy of your love, the only time things make sense is when you take him in your arms and dutifully put his pieces back together. Even on nights when he feels he does not deserve it.

Ner Aliit

✯ Read on AO3✯ Teen ✯ 5k✯

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian. Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.

A Crisis of Faith

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 6k ✯

Summary: Although travelling through the galaxy with a Mandalorian bounty hunter was a daunting prospect at first, you were pleasantly surprised by how swiftly the two of you bonded. However, despite your initial closeness, the man who you were thought enjoyed your presence in his life now seems disgusted by his every encounter with you. When you finally land on Nevarro after weeks of being confined to the Razor Crest together, you hope that perhaps, something might fix your fractured relationship...

A New Dawn

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 5.1k ✯

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy with a mysterious nameless and faceless Mandalorian with a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the parsec would probably terrify most people. Instead, over the months you have known Mando, you have discovered his gentler, more affectionate side. Living in such proximity to the man you have an enormous crush on threatens to suffocate you as you determine that he must never find out. But after a job seemingly goes badly wrong on a forest planet, the fear of losing him will perhaps finally be the tipping point for a new dawn in your relationship...

Pieces

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3k ✯

Summary: Your worst fears are almost realised when Din returns from his latest job with the New Republic injured and distressed. Despite your emotions, you diligently tend to his wounds and put his pieces back together.

Mature:

Across The Stars

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature 18+ ✯ 5.8k ✯

Summary:  Your riduur, Din Djarin, whisks you away to Naboo to enjoy the Festival of Love celebrations on the bountiful planet. While there, you reflect on just how much the formidable man, who chose you to be his, truly means to you.

Explicit:

The Arrangement

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ 18+ MDNI ✯ 7.1k ✯

Summary: You entered into an arrangement with Mando find some physical relief from the monotony of hyperspace as you travel through the galaxy together as a formidable team of bounty hunters. When you did so, there were three clear rules: that it would not impact your professional relationship, that there were no strings attached and most importantly of all: that Mando would never, ever remove his helmet. When you carelessly let your emotions get the better of you and undermine those rules, you fear you have lost the man who means everything to you and discover that you miss much more than merely the physical encounters…

Din Djarin Headcanons/Imagines

Din Djarin + Falling In Love

Flowers for My Mandalorian (Valentine's Day imagines)

Booping Din Djarin

Only The Father You'll Be

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.7k ✯

Summary: As he sits on the porch of his new cabin, looking on proudly as Grogu entertains himself with frogs outside their new home on Nevarro, the moment awakens old memories in Din Djarin. He reflects back to a moment when he watched The Child playing with other children in the idyllic village on Sorgan. Back then, Din wanted something very different for him and The Child… it was an occasion when their fates could so easily have diverged from their destiny. But now Din has the one thing that had always eluded him, that he never imagined for himself: a family.

Welcome Home, Son

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 4.1k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin finds himself back on a mysterious planet that is strangely familiar to him, despite the years that have passed since he last stepped foot on it. A visit to the cabin he once shared with his family brings Din face-to-face with someone he never imagined he would again encounter for the rest of his days. Content Warnings: Grief, PTSD, survivor's guilt, grieving for parents.

Soon, I Will Be Back With You

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 1.2k ✯

Summary: Centuries after the last time he saw his buir, Grogu reflects on memories of the life they shared together until it ended in devastating circumstances. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

You Are Eternal

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 1.4k ✯

Summary: When devastating news that High Magistrate Karga has become one with the Force reaches Din in his cabin on Nevarro, he reflects on the complicated nature of their relationship. Din pays his own tribute to the man who witnessed firsthand his shift from bounty hunter to father. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

Some of these fics are explicit so no minors, please.

Carry Your Throne

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Explicit ✯ 182k ✯

Summary: Set one year post-Mando season 3. Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze is struggling to contend with the pressure of living up to the Kryze name and her dark past, while also bearing the responsibility of leading her planet and overseeing its continued stability. Plagued with feelings of guilt and unworthiness - and a suspicion that not everyone supports her claim to the throne - she is haunted by nightmares as she relives her past mistakes. Those around her are concerned for her wellbeing, including Bo-Katan's loyal friend and advisor, Koska Reeves. News of Din Djarin and Grogu's return to Mandalore sets off a chain of events that will change both the course of Bo-Katan's reign and possibly her life, too.

With Every Atom of His Being

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.6k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin's increasing closeness to Bo-Katan Kryze causes an accidental slip of his tongue during a picnic the two share with Grogu during one of Bo-Katan's visits to Nevarro. Din's choice of language has profound consequences, not just for the two of them but also the child they love so much.

Written In The Stars

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature✯ 11k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin hoped that by pledging to serve Bo-Katan Kryze until her song was written, he had clued her into the depths of his feelings for her. As the months pass after Din left to train his new apprentice with still no word from the Mand'alor, he begins to accept that his feelings are unrequited. Din wishes he could stop dwelling on his feelings, but at night visions of red hair and shimmering green eyes haunt him. His aversion to returning to Mandalore continues until one day, his son takes matters into his own tiny hands and forces Din to confront his fears...

To Being Together Again

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature✯ 10k ✯

Summary: When Din Djarin returns to his cabin on Nevarro after some time away he finds something he would never have expected, that will change his life forever. It seems that the woman he pledged to serve until her song was written has finally acknowledged her feelings and found her way back home to him. He can't even be too angry that it cost him a bottle of expensive wine. Or: Peli Motto and Bo-Katan Kryze get wine drunk and overshare... fluff and smut ensues.

The Worm Conundrum

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General✯ 2k ✯

Summary: When Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze hears about a recent conversation Koska Reeves had with her new girlfriend one night, instead of finding its premise cringeworthy, she instead finds that the ridiculous question will not leave her mind no matter how hard she tries. There is just one thought, turning in her mind, over and over...: Would Din Djarin still love her if she was a worm?

Red Hair, White Cake and Nite Owl Blue

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General✯ 27k ✯

Summary: After retaking Mandalore, Din Djarin abruptly leaves the Mandalorian homeworld with his new apprentice and throws himself into his work with the New Republic in order to avoid dwelling on the nature of his relationship to Bo-Katan Kryze. But a job several months after Mandalore was retaken changes everything for him. When Din is sent to Plazir-15 to track down an old troublemaker, his return to the planet brings back fond memories of time spent with Bo-Katan and causes Din to reflect on his lingering feelings for the woman who he once shared such a special bond with. But before he has a chance to act, a surprise feast thrown in honour of Bo-Katan's recently-announced engagement destroys not only Din's heart but an extravagant white cake too. Has Din left it too late to claim the heart of the red-haired woman he loves? Or will the Mandalorian foundling and the Nite Owl finally find their way to each other?

A New Year on Mandalore

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.2k ✯

Summary: It's almost the start of a new year on Mandalore and Bo-Katan Kryze is feeling the absence of a certain Mandalorian, despite the elaborate celebrations that have been planned. The Mand'alor is feeling lonely... until Koska Reeves brings news that a familiar starship has landed at the spaceport.

Dinbo Week 2024

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 14k ✯

At The Water's Edge ✯ Teen ✯ 4k ✯

Take My Whole Life, Too ✯ Teen ✯ 2.7k ✯

A More Noble Calling ✯ Teen ✯ 2.4k✯

A Sense Of Belonging ✯ Teen ✯ 3k ✯

The Meiloorun Fiasco ✯ General ✯ 2.5k ✯

Dinbo Drabbles

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 0.4k ✯

Summary: Series of drabbles based on specfic episodes from Season three.

Hello again!

Thanks so much if you made it this far, happy reading! I really hope you find enjoyment somewhere in something I've written.

I would love to know if you did, you can always come and chat to me about anything I've written, I would love to know your thoughts!

[covetyou]

send in the clown

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: clowns, dubcon, unprotected P in V, anal play, grinding, titty play (clown motorboating), drug use, hotboxing, the shoes stay on, unconventional use of grease paint word count: 4.1k summary: You lose your scarf on a visit to the carnival. Send in Dieter Bravo - washed up actor turned circus clown.

A/N: Happy Halloweekend, friends! Originally this was going to be some dark evil fic with a murderous clown and some non-con, but basically I can't do that. So here you have washed up actor clown Dieter instead, and he's going to rock your world. You're welcome.

This is not inherently scary, but probably something to avoid if you really hate clowns. It's essentially just clown porn. I'm not sorry.

10 points to anyone who can spot the Oscar.

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Want Dieter at the carnival, but don't want the clowns? Check out Candy by @secretelephanttattoo

Loud noises and knives and fire and bodies bent into strange shapes.

It sounded more like a horror movie down on paper, but the lights and music were dazzling, amazing, turning something terrifying into something beautiful.

You sipped too sweet drinks and munched on overpriced snacks as you watched on with your friends, laughing and gasping with them as the sights before you unfolded. A tiny woman bending herself over backwards, shooting apples off of people's heads with a bow and arrow clenched in her delicate feet. A couple swinging through the air, no wire in sight, fabric fluttering along behind them as they flew. Sword swallowers, fire breathers, acrobats, magicians, clowns.

Clowns.

You were mesmerized by it all, taken in so completely, that when you all stumbled out after several hours and made your way home, you didn't even notice you'd left your scarf until you moved to pull it off as you stepped in your front door. They weren't in town for long, things like this never were, so you turn around and head back to your car, driving back the way you came until the big top comes back into view.

It had been almost an hour since you left and the parking lot was mostly empty now, save for a few cars closer to the entrance. The sign was no longer illuminated, but lights shone brightly from inside the gate as a handful of people bustled around, packing up for the night.

You make your way to the ticket booth, spotting a grizzly old man with a toothpick between his teeth closing up, pulling a small box filled with ticket stubs and loose change out from the desk.

"We're closed," he grumbles, not bothering to look at you as he turns the key, locking the booth, and stomps away.

"I know," you shout, feet squelching in a wet patch of grass as you stumble after him. "I lost something, left it here. Do you have a lost and found?"

He stops, eyes you up, then sends you inside, directing you to an open sided tent. You walk in semi-darkness, listening out for the shouts and jokes of the cast and crew ending their day.

Two people sit there, feet up on a box and cards in hand. One has a threadbare sweater thrown on over a skimpy lyrca outfit adorned in sequins, the other looks like he could have been in the audience if it wasn't for the peak of tattoos from the top of his hoodie and across his hands.

They don't notice you standing there, so you clear your throat. Sequins is just about to play a card, but halts mid way through the movement and looks up, raising his painted on eyebrows at you.

"We're closed," Tattoos repeats, not bothering to turn to look your way.

"I lost a scarf. Was told to come here," you explain. You just want your scarf back.

Sequins slaps the card down on the box then sits back, eyeing you up and down just as the grizzled old man did, crossing his toned arms over his chest. "What's it look like?"

"Woolen, red and brown kind of checks. It's pretty big, almost like a blanket?"

Tattoos scoffs, finally turning to look at you. "Oh yeah, that one. Bravo the Clown took it. No one ever comes back for shit they lose at the circus, toots. If you want it back you're gonna have to go ask him."

"Okay, and where can I find this Bravo the Clown."

They send you off to a trailer on the other side of the camp. You hear their laughter as you turn your back and walk away, squelching back through patches of wet grass that hadn't been boarded over.

The trailer is worn and old, a colorful tarp covering the front window and stapled into the ground. "Bravo" is scrawled on the door in sharpie, scribbles of other color around it so it looks like the name has exploded from the door. There's a faint light from inside, and you can hear music playing, but there's no answer when you knock.

You try the handle, the door opening a crack before jamming. You tug harder, and the door swings open, nearly knocking you down onto the wet ground.

Smoke billows out. You almost think there's a fire when you smell something earthy and herbal. Definitely not a fire.

You call out over the music, a repetitive carnival jingle, and when there's no response, you climb up the few steps and step foot into the trailer of Bravo the Clown.

It's dark inside, the smoke barely cleared and the tarp masking any light from outside in a red haze. The herbal stench in the air is thicker inside, covering the stale musky smell of sweat and dust.

When your eyes adjust to the dark through the haze of smoke, you see the place is a mess. Wigs of all shapes and colors are thrown haphazardly onto a crooked shelf on the wall, something shiny hidden behind a puff of rainbows. Shoes litter the walkway, and clothes and costume pieces are strewn over a bench seat. There's a patch where it looks like someone has been sitting, and next to it, your scarf, screwed tight into a messy ball and pushed down into the rest of the clothing.

You approach, going to grab your scarf and leave, when you're distracted by a long mirror sitting to one side, a worn chair in front of it. There's a vanity where brushes and pallettes are thrown, pots of grease paint left open and discarded.

You drag your fingers across the worn wooden vanity. Picking up one pot of paint - a vibrant white - you are moments from swiping your finger across the pristine surface when a gruff voice startles you.

"What the fuck?!"

You spin, paint falling from your hand and clattering to the ground. Stood there is a half man, half clown, joint perched between his lips, makeup smudged over his face. His hair is sweaty, sticking up at all angles, wig nowhere to be seen. You cast your eyes down him. An oversized striped shirt is pulled open, graying undershirt beneath on show, sweat stains at the armpits and a wet patch on the hem. His red pants are unbuttoned, slung low on his hips, his suspenders unclipped at the front and hanging down low behind him. Large shoes jut out from the bottoms, bulbous and curving slightly upward.

"What the fuck are you doin' in here," he says from around the joint, throwing his hands up in the air.

You stumble over your words, stuttering a few times before you can spit it out. He looks at you like you're stupid, like you're the one with paint smeared over your face.

"I- I lost my scarf. They said you had it, I'm sorry, I-"

"What? Do you think breaking and entering is okay because I'm a fuckin' clown," he yells, pulling the door closed and slamming it hard when it gets jammed again.

He stalks toward you, blowing a puff of smoke into your face, making your eyes water, before he flops down into the worn chair in front of the vanity. It creaks as he stretches back, the tip of one of his too big shoes running up your leg.

"Do you think stealing is okay because you're a clown?" you retort, hands on your hips, shaking your head in disbelief. You never pictured your evening ending in an argument with a half-dressed clown.

More smoke puffs from his mouth as he laughs at you, face contorting strangely as he smiles with a down turned red mouth smeared across his own.

"What're you going to give me," he says, pulling his shirt off and throwing it onto the pile on the bench.

"What?"

He takes another long drag on his joint, and lets the smoke billow from his lungs before he sits back and replies. "For the scarf. What's it worth to you."

You watch his hand stroke down his belly, past the wet patch on his t-shirt and down to the front of his pants. He adjusts himself, rolling his hips as he palms his cock through the fabric.

You swallow a lump in your throat. Maybe it's the smoke going to your head, the haze of the room making you feel stuffy and floaty, clouding your judgement. Or maybe you've always had a fucking thing for clowns, you flithy b-

"Anything," you say, before you can stop yourself. He laughs, throwing his head back as he flicks ash onto the floor.

"Then take that coat off and come here. Show me them pretty tits."

You unbutton your coat, throwing it onto the bench with your scarf. You look down, thick sweater obstructing any view he'd have of your chest, and decide to yank that off too, pulling it over your head and discarding it with your coat. You take a deep breath, lungs filling with smoke and the sweaty smell of Bravo the Clown, before you pull down your tank top and bra, pushing your tits out of their cups and exposing them to the cold air.

"Can I have my scarf back now?"

"No! I want a closer look," he pats his lap, visible tent now forming in his red pants. "Come sit down on Bravo the Clowns lap, sugar tits," he says with husky laugh.

You shuffle forward trying not to trip over his shoes as you wonder how you'll perch on his lap with his knees spread so wide. You don't have long to think when he grabs you by the hand and pulls you onto him, your knees straddling either side of his thighs on the chair. It creaks and groans, and you shift on him, terrified the old chair is going to collapse with the weight of you.

He takes a final long drag from his joint, before snuffing it on the vanity and blowing the rest of the smoke into your face. You cough and splutter, blinking back watering eyes, when two large hands come up and grab your tits, massaging them as your chest heaves.

"Nice."

You blink again and look down to see him smiling at your tits, nodding as he massages them. He squeezes them together, watching as the skin squishes and puckers under his fingers. His hands are rough, fingernails painted with chipped polish that glitters in the dim lighting of his trailer. The grimace painted onto his face a stark contrast to the man underneath having the time of his life.

He's entranced, looking at your tits as he squeezes them. Painted fingertips come and pinch your nipples, pulling at them and making you gasp. Your back arches as he tugs, jiggling both as he pinches and laughing as they ripple with the movement. Your hips shift forward, nudging the hardness in his pants, and you fight to still yourself and not grind against him.

Before you know it, he's mashing your tits together again and shoving his face between them, rubbing the scruff of his jaw across your delicate skin, smearing paint all over your chest. He breathes in, and you feel him start to nip and suckle at your flesh as he rubs from side to side, burying his face in you as you push your hips down hard onto his cock.

As quick as he started, he flops back with a sigh, letting your tits fall heavy from his grasp. He smiles serenely as he looks at his handiwork, white and red and blue smeared into a mess of lavender across your tits.

"Think you liked that as much as I did," he taunts, gesturing to where your crotch sits flush against his stiff cock. "Shame you're in so many fuckin' layers." He runs a hand up your thigh, pinging the thickness of your tights against your leg before fingers play with the edge of your skirt where it's bunched around your thighs. He tugs it higher, pulling it to your waist.

He slides his hands back down, thumbs tracing down the front of your tights, teasing the apex of your thighs. One hand holds you there, stopping you from rocking into him again, whilst the other slides between you, rubbing broadly over your damp, covered crotch.

You close your eyes, letting him massage your pussy with his large hand, the sensation muted by so many layers. You rock into his palm as you float along on his lap, lost in his heavy breathing and the monotonous music still jingling along in the background.

He starts muttering, playing with the waistband of your tights, looking for a better way in, a way to get to your cunt that means you don't have to get off his lap. Your eyes snap open, you watch as he shrugs, a wicked smile pulling smeared makeup across his face. He pulls at your tights, gripping in both hands, tearing the fabric and exposing your inner thighs and panties to him. You can't help but moan as you feel his hand find your bare skin, and push against the wet front of your panties.

He lets out a low whistle, he'd barely touched you and you're dripping, grinding against his hand. "I can do one better than my hand," he says, waggling his eyebrows and looking down to his crotch. He's fully hard now, tent more impressive than the big tops outside.

Before he can say another word, you're reaching for his pants, pulling the zipper down and fishing out his rock hard length. He pulls both his arms back holding them up in mock surrender.

"Woah, woah!" he laughs.

You start to stroke his cock, pumping up and down, drawing the precum dripping from his tip over your palm and down his length with each stroke. He's watching you as you play with him, teasing his tip, reaching down into his red pants with your other hand to stroke his balls. They're heavy in your hand and sticky with sweat, but you squeeze them as you jerk him, making him groan, throw his head back and grip the arms of his chair.

Your pussy is cold without his hand, neglected. You don't want to let go of the weight of him, so you rub his tip over the front of your soaked panties, dragging it over your clit and applying pressure as you circle it with his head. You need more, more friction, so you hold him against you, rocking your hips against one side of him as your palm holds him to you in the other.

"Oh, hell yeah. Are you gonna come just from grinding on me?!" he says in disbelief, listening to your desperate moans as you jerk him against your pussy.

"No," you gasp, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face over the layer of greasy paint. The look of him alone is almost sending you stratospheric - the hair, the paint, the sweat - but the friction against your pussy isn't enough. "I want to put it in me."

He looks like he's won the lottery, wide eyes and thrilled face covered in paint nodding back at you, gesturing down to his dick as if to say help yourself.

You yank your panties to the side as you rock your hips into his cock, still holding him tight to you. Your slick pussy glides up and down his length, his head rubbing directly over your clit with each cant of your hips. You're moaning, wiggling on him as he watches straight down at his cock gliding against your bare cunt.

"Do you have a...?" you say, looking around the room for anywhere where he might stash a condom.

"Nope," he says, popping the P. "If you want it, you gotta take it like this."

You don't even consider any other option, you simply plunge your two middle fingers deep inside you, gathering your slick before smearing it around yourself and down the other side of Bravo the Clown's cock. You raise up on your knees, the chair creaking again as you move, and tease him against your entrance before taking him inside you.

"Oh, Bravo," you moan as you sink down onto his cock.

"Thank you, I'm here 'til Tuesday," he jokes, miming a bow from where he's seated. You bet he uses that on everyone. You soon wipe the smug grin off his face when you lift up and slam back down onto him, moaning his name once again before you begin fucking yourself on him in earnest. "Fuck."

"Dieter," he whines as you bounce on him, chasing a high that seems so out of reach with the high already muffling your head, "Name's Dieter."

"Dieter," you groan, bottoming out and groaning as you rock your hips over him, his cock seated deep in you.

"Fuck yeah, that's it," he grunts, clown shoes planted flat on the floor giving him leverage to pound up into you as you meet his every thrust. The chair is creaking, the trailer shaking, your lavender colored tits bouncing with each pound. His glazed over eyes watch them bounce in front of his face, a frown knitting his brows together and creasing the paint slathered on his skin as he tries to focus on your jiggling breasts. You think you see him go cross eyed as he tries to look at both of your nipples at once.

You're about to reach your hand down, circle your clit and bring yourself over the edge when arms wrap around you pulling you toward him, face falling into his neck. You can smell him more strongly here, the smell of sweat and weed clinging to him like a second skin. He holds onto your ass as he pounds up into you, pulling your cheeks apart. From this angle you can feel the grind of his hair against your clit with every thrust, and you muffle your moan into his neck.

"Ohhhhh."

"Gonna have to give me more than that, ain't been long since I last came," he huffs into your ear as he pulls you apart. You can feel the slick smear of grease paint on the side of your face.

There's another loud rip, your tights being torn again, this time from behind to expose more of your ass. He slows down the roll of his hips into yours as he pulls you deeper, and deeper, letting you grind down onto him even easier, the rub of him against your clit almost perfect now. The feel of his throbbing cock deep in your pussy, rough hands pulling your ass open and the scratch of his pubic hair on your clit feel so good, but you can't quite get there, whatever end you're trying to reach chased away by the fuzz in your head.

You whine from his neck, shifting your hips, trying to see if another spot would work better. Bravo - Dieter catches on and you hear his voice rumble from his chest as you rock on his lap.

"What's your favorite color?"

Now hardly seems like the time to get to know each other, but you humor him. "Blue," you breathe, rubbing your nose against his cheek, the smell of grease paint strong.

"Blue it is."

One arm lets go of you and you hear something on the vanity. You keep rocking your hips, still so close but not close enough. He brings his hand back and you gasp at a foreign sensation between your cheeks.

It's thick and slick, swiping smoothly across your asshole. You moan and gasp against his face, halting your movements and lifting off him a fraction. He laughs, swiping his slicked finger back and forth over your ass, circling the tight ring before dipping a fingertip in just as he pulls you back down flush onto his cock.

It's intense, and you moan so loud Tattoos and Sequins can probably hear you.

"And that's improv," he says, grunting as he picks up the pace of his thrusts again.

"Fuck, more," you beg, as he slips more of his fingertip into your ass, fucking you hard now as you grip his neck and bring your face in line with his.

He laughs at you, panting with the effort of fucking you. "Oh you're freaky, I like it."

"Watch who you're calling a freak, clown." Your grip his neck, holding on for dear life, unphased by the spread of his face paint onto your own skin.

Both arms are wrapped around you, one feeling at your entrance where he pounds into you, creamy slick coating his fingers with each thrust, the other between your cheeks, finger hooked into your tight hole. His finger tugs at you with each bounce onto his cock, stretching you and making you feel fuller than you are. You tilt your hips again, clit colliding with his thick hair, gridning against you, and you see stars glitter around your vision. They're so close now, the haze in your brain diffusing the light as it draws closer and closer.

"Hnnnng, I'm so close," you groan, rubbing your nose against his.

"Fuck," he mumbles as you pull his mouth onto yours. You kiss him, moaning and grinding against his lap, his tongue flicking against the seam of your lips just as the stars align and burst in your vision.

You come with a deep groan into his mouth, clenching tight around his cock as he frantically pounds up into you, hips stuttering as sweat drips down his face. You feel him start to twitch and then his cock is slipping from you, the remnants of your own orgasm fading as his cock slides against the outside of your cunt and spurts thick ropes of cum up against his belly, catching the already damp hem of his t-shirt.

You sit, faces together, panting for a moment, kissing him again just before he slides his finger from your ass, wiping the slick onto your exposed skin. When he looks down at his spent cock, he groans and huffs.

"Not again. I like this shirt."

He tuts at himself, flopping his arms down and looking around for something to tidy up with. He gives up, instead grabbing a tin from the vanity, popping it open, and starts to roll another joint on his chest.

You take that moment to climb off him, covering your pussy with the scrap of fabric of your panties, tugging your skirt down and your tank top up to cover as much of you as you can. The paint on your chest will stain, but you'll think about that later.

You throw your coat back on, not bothering with your sweater or the mess on your face, when Dieter addresses you again.

"Don't forget your scarf."

You roll your eyes, casting an exasperated look at him only to see him looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You take your scarf, unbunching it and immediately sticking your hand in something wet and sticky. Even in the darkness, you can tell it's almost definitely cum. You look over to Dieter, disgusted look on your face as he shrugs his shoulders.

"If I'd known you'd come here begging for some of this," he gestures down his slouched body, "I never would've done that sweet cheeks. That one's on you."

"You're an ass."

"I'm not an ass, I'm the one and only Bravo the Clown." He spreads his arms wide, looking obscene with his flaccid cock hanging out of his bright red pants, belly covered in cum and face paint smeared all over his face. He places the unlit joint between his lips and you walk past him, pushing open the door to his trailer and stepping outside into the clear air. You take a deep breath, head already feeling clearer when you turn back, a question on your lips.

He's stood at the door of his trailer, tucking his cock back in, looking even crazier now that your head is clearer.

"The music?" you ask. It'd been playing this whole time, the same tune over and over.

"It's called method acting, sweet cheeks," he says with a wink, lighting his new joint and tilting his head back to expel a plume of smoke into the night sky.

You laugh, you can't help it, the man is a caricature even of himself, but there's something so intoxicating about it.

"Goodnight, Dieter."

You walk back to your car to the tinkling of fairground music and Bravo the Clown's raspy laughter.

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[fieldsofbats]

a family man : könig x fem!reader

summary: könig wants to know why he hasn't met your family.

tw: bad relationship with mother, mentions of difficult childhood, trust issues reader. please let me know if i have missed anything x

a/n this is completely self-indulging and for v specific audience. mummy issues unite! also my first longer fic :))

you wanted to turn and slam the door in his face, but you knew that would make the situation worse. instead you pushed it open and left it where is slammed against the wall. he followed you into your room, closing the door behind him. each step brought him closer to you and thats all that mattered to him. closer equal comfort, but you felt so far away.

"i just don't understand why its such a big deal?" he whined again. it was the same thing over and over for the pas two weeks. when can i meet your family? why haven't you introduced me? does your family know about me? of course they know about him. well some of them.

you sighed and sat on your desk chair taking off your work boots and socks. it broke your heart a tiny bit to keep answering him the same thing, not strong enough yet to explain to him why you didn't let him meet your family yet.

"it's not a big deal. just...it's difficult." you answered, rushed to think of a new excuse. this time he started to take his uniform off, keeping his hood securely on. the anxiety in you began to grow and bubble up as his questions grew more reasonable, your internal logic falling apart. and you knew the anxiety was just as high in him, he never kept his hood on once you both entered one of yours bedrooms, his or you own.

"but why?" he paused for a moment, shifting backwards onto his heels in defeat. "do you not see a future with me in it?" his voice was scarily calm through the sentence. a future without him? you couldn't even fathom it. is this what you drove him to? the anxiety died down into guilt for pushing aside königs feelings to maintain your high walls.

it just wasn't that easy. having to explain why you never wanted him to meet your family. formulating a response for him seemed to be near impossible without breaking every rule you had set of yourself. every wall that was carefully built to let him in just enough that you seemed normal. its the dropping of the corners of his eyes from his lips frowning, the new shimmer of tears on his waterline that seem to push you over. fuck.

"there will never be a path in my life without you accompanying me, könig." your hand reached up to brush his face through the hood. tears hand't broken yet as the fabric covering his face was still dry, but his shakey breaths told a different story. "just sit down and let me explain."

he obediently sat on the edge of your bed, at this height he was eye level with you.

"firstly, my family live too far away for us to actually meet them anytime soon. and for what its worth, my father and brother both know about you." his hands gripped tighter on your thighs, mostly for his own comfort. he tilted his head in question. you knew before he asked.

"i am not close to my mother. she is still alive. where? i don't know. she is not a nice woman, she is cruel and controlling. she wasn't the best person to my growing up and became worse as i tried to leave home and have any sense of individuality. so no, you will never meet my mother." you sighed out a breath of relief. finally telling him the truth. the ugly awful truth about your own family and your past.

it worried you so much because he is so close to his mother. she is incredible, the epitome of a women. kind, sweet, generous, caring. she welcomed you with open arms when you met her. she taught you to cook königs favourite childhood meal and didn't kick you out after you made so many mistakes.

his eyes wondered downwards as he nodded. his grip never faltered, but you could see the thoughts processing through his mind. you knew you had blown it. fucked it. completely messed it up. this is why the walls are there. this is why you don't commit to people. this is-

"thats alright, perle. thank you for telling me." his eyes had come back up to you during your spiral of thoughts. he wasn't amazing at using his words but his actions always meant more. his hands had risen from your thighs to your waist, gently rubbing up and down in a soothing motion, tugging your shirt up slightly to expose your skin. his hands, free of there gloves, rubbed against your skin. round in circles, up and down, back and forth.

"you know you can just tell me things. i know its difficult but i hope you know you can trust me." he smiled under the hood, "i love you very much."

with that, you stepped forwards on the bed and straddled his legs. both hands wrapped around his neck, chest to chest in a tight embrace. it was so simple but exactly what you needed to hear. his hands remained on your skin, reaching to the top of you back and then down again.

"i love you very much as well." you whispered back. he hummed back and pressed his face further into you. inhaling and exhaling with comfort. you did the same. his shampoo, his body wash, his sweat, his everything.

a moment passed before he said "i'm more scared to meet your dad honestly." you giggled a little at the comment. kissing the top of his head you stood up and stroked the fabric of his hood.

"you should be."

[sanriokamabodo]

Interview with Akaza + Douma (Actor!AU)

A/N: wanted to write this as a full on fic but who am i kidding (not proofread haha..)

“Hi I’m Hakuji Soyama and I've had the honour to play Akaza since the Mugen Train Arc” He gives a brief nod after his introduction. Slinging his right leg over the other, he glances at his counterpart who awkwardly raises his hand.

“...And I play Douma.’�� He states, causing Akaza to erupt into a fit of laughter, the audience and interviewer joining him instantly.

“Well that’s one way to introduce yourself.” Akaza grins, dramatically wiping a tear away from his eye.

“So tell me, what’s it like behind the scenes?"

"I think everyone gets along great, we all have a similar end goal in mind and work hard to achieve that together."

Douma nods before starting. "This is my first big time job and everybody has welcomed me with open arms. The writers even listened to my ideas and we've made some changes together for me to portray him better."

"We've heard rumours about you all doing your own stunts. Is it true?"

Akaza sighs making Douma laugh.

"You know that one scene in the infinity castle where I parkour around like it's nobody's business? That took a week to film, I nearly had to relearn to walk again because I was dangling in the air so much."

"Tch, you're so dramatic." Douma quips.

"You didn't make it any easier for me! You know how ticklish my feet are and you kept taking advantage of it while I was hanging from the ceiling!" He scoffs jokingly. "You guys better appreciate that scene." He laughs, making the audience cheer for the duo.

"How do you guys get ready for a day of shooting? Walk me through the day you started filming the uppermoon meeting."

"Make-up is the first thing we do, during make-up we go over our scenes together."

"Whose make-up takes longest?"

"Hantengu's by a long shot. He's actually really good looking in real life."

"I second that. I think Hakuji's the quickest since he has temporary tattoo's and dyed his hair for the part. He only needs to put in his contacts."

"Muzan's actor is actually really soft-spoken in real life, we had to reshoot the 'Upper Moons' meeting a lot because he would be to gentle with us and we would end up laughing." Akaza chuckles.

"Who do you respect most among the actors?"

"I respect everyone, especially the younger actors! They're super professional. I shot a scene with Ume who plays Daki and she gave me a lot of useful tips."

"The way Rengoku's actor portrays him gave me chills. He did so beautifully! I really respect him!"

"Hakuji came home crying after they filmed Rengoku's death scene." Douma teases.

"It was a long day, alright?"

"Yeah, you guys live together right?"

"We've been best friends since we were like five, so becoming roommates when we both wanted to go to theater school was an easy decision."

"Is your friend a bit like the character he portrays?"

"Absolutely not! When we're not shooting he's cooped up in his room playing video games all day. I don't know how he maintains his figure because all I see him eat is instant ramen. I'm even convinced he's a virgin." He cooes at Douma, pinching his cheek.

"Get off me!" The platinum haired man laughs. "Like you're anything like Akaza, you manwhore."

Akaza shrugs, a sly smirk on his face. "I know a bit of martial arts. That's like my character, I guess."

"The karate workshop we had when we we're eleven? Really, that's your knowledge of martial arts?"

Akaza nods seriously, trying to hold in his laugh.

"Wow, you're really something..."

"We're almost out of time." The interviewer states. "Anything you want to add before we round this interview up?"

"I can't recommend watching Demon Slayer enough! I've never been so proud of a show or movie I've done, this is next level."

"What he said, and hi mum!" Douma says, waving at the camera with a toothy grin.

"Give a round of applause for the one and only Akaza and Douma! Thank you for the interview."

[bluevelvetjoel]

Dance With You Tonight - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Authors Note: Idk who will all read this but hello, I'm Maddie! And welcome to my first written fic ever!! Pls do not judge if this is badly written😭 I would like to thank @punkshort for giving me the confidence for getting this actually written and beta-ing and this and giving me feedback. Much love and enjoy reading! xoxo

Series masterlist next chapter

Synopsis: You were training and studying to become a professional ballet dancer, until fate had other plans. Leaving you crushed and headed into a new career path. Becoming a dance teacher, a way of keeping dance in your life. Still in the process of healing, you meet Joel Miller. A single dad working as a contractor, trying to make his little girl happy by signing her up for dance lessons. Guarded when you first meet him, he teaches you to love a way you haven't before. 

Chapter warnings: Some swearing but that's it for now. Lightly edited. No Y/N

Chapter 1 - Beautiful Stranger (wordcount: 1.5k)

 Dancing was your passion, you had been doing it your entire life. It was clear from the start when your mom took you to see your first professional ballet performance. The costumes, the subtle movements and the rhythm of the music. Setting a goal from when you were just a kid, dreaming you would make it as a ballerina. It was easy to say that dance was your calling, being said from dance instructors. And even being accepted into The Boston Ballet. You had a bright future of dance ahead, you could picture it then. Being on a stage, the bright lights focused on only you. Where you danced for a full audience in a theater. 

Unfortunately right out of graduating,  those dreams came crashing to a halt. It was all because of the accident. It kept you from your training, and not being able to keep up with your dance peers.

You felt there was no direction your life was going anymore, when you had moved back home to Texas to heal, where there was nothing to keep you busy. Then, Miss Beatrice’s dance works came into motion. You were given an opportunity to teach childrens beginners ballet. Your parents urged you to do something productive like this. Thinking you might as well keep some part of dancing in your life, you accepted. 

You were playing the light piano music from your phone, and faced the bright eyed little kids. First practice of the season always seemed to go smoothly. Some were not as excited to be there as others, but nonetheless, you began instruction. Introducing them to the basics, the 5 basic positions. And had them walk across the room doing different movements with their arms.

Then you hear the metal door suddenly open, looking away from your students, you see a broad frame with a duffel bag shoved in his left hand and rushing his daughter to sit on the chair to slip her ballet shoes on. 

“Um pardon the interruption…” he said sincerely. You stop your teaching to smile and walk out of the studio and into the waiting room. 

“That's alright…we aren’t even ten minutes in.” you waved him off, and eyes wandered to the curly haired girl rushing in the waiting room. 

‘Keep on practicing the positions girls..” you say as you walk out the door to greet the dad. You look over to the girl and smile. “You must be Sarah.” You say she nods enthusiastically and beams. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad” he introduced himself, holding his hand out for you to take it. His hands were calloused but felt comforting, different from your delicate hand. You could almost feel your breath hitch. “Sorry for bein’ late for the first practice… I was behind at work and was in rush gettin’ home to pick her up.” he said with a sincere face. You examine his features, dark brown eyes that look like they've seen a lot. And lines that were deepening on his forehead.

You introduce yourself and continue to reassure him.  “Again it is no problem at all, just as long as you don't make it a habit.” you tease lightly. He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. He looks around to see the other parents of the dancers getting agitated, which you notice and realize you need to continue class. “Well Joel, if you aren't busy you are welcome to sit on the bench and watch.” you smile and fold your two hands together. He did just that and took a breath, placing his hands on his knees. “C’mon Sarah, let’s head in.” she skips behind you and you shut the door behind. You gave a warm smile and had her stand at the bar with the others. 

Class then resumes and you catch Sarah up. Joel watches your softness teaching, and your gentle movements as you demonstrated to the peaceful music. Standing on your tiptoes and raising your arms, Joel notices the happiness in your eyes right away. It's as if you entered a completely different reality. He appreciates watching you helping Sarah when she was struggling. Urging her to take a deep breath when she got frustrated. 

Time passed and class ended, the kids rushing out to their parents and babbling. You walk behind them and walk to the desk in the studio office, grabbing papers and handing them to Joel. You were giving him the rundown of fundraising for the studio, and telling him that you needed Sarah's clothing size for therecital costume. You smiled as you saw him struggling to keep a note of all the important things, but he wanted to know and stay involved as much as possible for his kid. He smirked and held the papers up. “You got it.” He then found Sarah, and you waved as they walked out the door with the other families. 

After the studio was cleared for the evening, you collected your bag and water bottle. Then you walked out of the building. 

Unlocking your apartment door you took a deep breath. Not even wanting to think about dinner, you plopped yourself on your couch. Then dialed the nearby Chinese place a few blocks from your place on your phone. Deciding to order takeout, seems like the easiest choice, you think to yourself. 

While waiting for your food you got up and prepared a side salad for yourself in your tiny kitchen. Then rested your elbow on the counter and scrolled through your missed calls. A few being from your mom, shit. You then decide to call her tomorrow, it has already been a long day. Along with wanting to start choreographing the recital dance, even though it would be months away, you still wanted to feel on top of things.

A few hours then passed, and the discarded chinese boxes were still on your coffee table. You had your laptop laying on your chest as you focused. Then looking at the time you groan, placing your laptop at the edge of the couch. You then sit up and stretch, and get ready for bed.

You are now snuggled into the soft duvet and your head resting on your pillow. Your mind wandering in your pool of thoughts as you try to sleep. You cannot help but keep thinking of Joel. Something about him made you want to learn more.  

A few days pass and you are currently in between classes, so you took a break in your office. Typing away on your computer, replying to emails sent by parents, and filling out papers for Miss Beatrice, who owns the studio. 

Completely focused on your work, there was a light knock on your door. Startled out of your trance, you looked up. It was Joel, who had a nervous smile as he held his hand up to wave. 

“Hope m’ not interruptin’ anything?” he says cautiously. You shake your head, close your laptop and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Not at all, Mr. Miller. Come on in.” you give a warm smile and gesture for him to sit down at the seat across from your desk. He does so and sits himself down and clears his throat. “None of that, please…Mr. Miller is my father.” he teases. You smile and begin talking again, “Alright then, Joel. What can I help you with?” you smile.  

He shifts in his seat and rubs the back of his neck. You could tell something was bothering him. “Sarah has been talkin’ about starting dance lessons for a while now, and I’m excited I was able to get her here.” You nod, and Joel continues talking. “The problem is that I had no idea how much this would cost..” he slightly chuckles. 

“Joel, we are very flexible with our parents. We even offer all sorts of different sorts of payment plans.” you explain. He slowly nods and gives a sigh of relief. “And I will do everything I can to help you guys...Sarah is a really bright student. I would hate to see her leave.” you say sincerely. 

“Thank you very much.” he says. “Really means a lot..what you say ‘bout Sarah.” he says proudly. There's a beat of silence between Joel and you. Next thing you know you’re looking in your desk drawer for a sticky note. Scribbling down your number on the piece of paper and slide it across to him. He takes it and examines it. “What’s this?” he drawls. 

“It’s my phone number, in case you have any more questions for me.” you smile. He nods with a smile. “I really wish I could help you more today, but I have another class that starts in a few minutes.” you say. Joel then stands up and puts the piece of paper in his back jean pocket. He then follows you out of the office, and you open the door. Noticing him gently placing his hand on the small of your back. 

After you both say final goodbyes, you take a deep breath. Watching him exit the building you turn around. It's okay, It's okay, you give all the parents your phone number. You think to yourself. Your mind was churning. You enter the studio and begin warming up and greet the students as they walk in.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Featured Fic Friday!

Welcome to Featured Fic Friday! A day where I, or someone who suggests one, tell you about a fanfic that I really enjoy! Spoiler's under the cut! Today's featured fic is...

A Dog in the Cat House by SoloShikigami (General Audiences, Complete)

Nightmare has lived happily with his three cats, Dust, Killer, and Horror. But one day he comes across a poor dog in need of a home, and hey, he could always use a guard dog. But will his three cats get along with the newest member of the family?

A short but cute fic, I enjoy the concept behind it! It's a little unusual to find a fic where most of the characters are animals, but the author does a good job of writing the characters regardless!

Spoilers ahead!

I think it's a really cute fic with an interesting premise, having Cross as a dog in what was previously an all cat house.

The way the author writes the characters makes it known what they think & how they feel even without any dialogue spoken between them.

[ckret2]

Follow up on Bill gender: Bill and Mable's gender conversation implied that one could have a number-of-sides identity which might not be reflected by your... assigned shape? This analogy is breaking down. To the question: Do you think that was true in his real life home dimension, or just something he was chill about on a whim? Will it ever come up in the fic?

Yeah, there were trans shapes. Bill is one of them! Like I'm calling him "triangle" for simplicity but really it's pyramid which is like 4/5 triangle and 1/5 square simultaneously in a higher-dimensional way, but like also he's been calling himself a spherical triangle for literally a trillion years and he's still kinda loyal to that identity because he's only been thinking of himself as a pyramid for 4000-odd years, and spherical triangle captures some of the experience of being 2D in a 3D way but not all of the experience and it leaves out the squareness so pyramid's more accurate but "pyramid" doesn't reflect the whole "grew up with psychic powers" experience and Bill thinks being psychic is an important part of his gender identity still so like he's wondering whether fourth-dimensional hyperspherical pyramid is the best fit, but he doesn't FEEL 4D, he feels 2D in a 3D way—you know what, you know what, it's complicated, you're just a human, you can call him a triangle, it's fine, it's close enough, really, he's somewhere under the triangle umbrella, it's fine, don't worry about it, really don't worry about it, it's cool, he's cool with it.

Hectorgon decided somewhere along the way that he didn't feel like a 2D hexagon anymore and got some work done and is a 3D hexagonal prism now and is content with it. Amorphous Shape has stuff going on with them Bill can't even beGIN to make sense of but sometimes they look like a bunch of squares and sometimes they look like a bunch of other polygons and everyone just nods and goes with it, and tbh naming yourself Amorphous Shape is sort of like renaming yourself Genderfluid Human and then all your friends nickname you Derf. Bill's dad was intersex in one direction and picked up a trans-ish gender presentation in a totally different direction. As a child Bill met another spherical shape that looked like a line in the second dimension but in the third dimension was a polygon—a biangle—struggling to get that recognized as an actual sex.

And all this is like, the shape equivalent of having a gender that can't be described with anything less than five terms and a freshly-baked set of new neopronouns. There were also more conventional trans identities—assigned squares who wanted to be seen as lines, triangles who wanted to be seen as pentagons, hexagons that were sometimes hexagons and sometimes octagons, septagons that felt sideless, etc.

Bill's stance on all this since he was equivalent-to-a-teen has been Anybody Can Do Anything They Want Forever.

He got in fights with his dad about whether including biangles when greeting his audiences—"Welcome, lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more"—would alienate the Traditional Members Of The Audience.

I don't know how much of all of the above will ever actually make it into the fic aside from discussing biangles.

[for-a-longlongtime]

On Dieter, Goya's Black Paintings, and Pedro on Talk Art 

Alright y'all, it's Saturday evening, I have nothing better to do (I actually do but I don't feel like it), so welcome to my mini TED Talk about 'how to pay too much fucking attention to the Pedro cinematic universe'. None of this is new, and maybe everybody already knew about this, but I didn't... so here's a nerdy tangent courtesy of googling/wikipedia-ing.

I was reading a Dieter!fic (this one right here by @chaoticgeminate - go read her writing!) earlier today, which refers to the 'Saturn Devouring His Son' painting - that giant mural Dieter is working on in The Bubble:

(his brush isn't even touching the wall tho, ha)

The original 'Saturn' by Goya

The fic mentioned its part of 'The Black Paintings', so I got curious and started googling. I'm no art major or expert, so please allow me to just paraphraze the Wikipedia page. 'Saturn' is part of a group of 14 Goya paintings that are called Pinturas Negras/The Black Paintings. They "portray intense, haunting themes, reflective of both his fear of insanity and his bleak outlook on humanity" --this was late in Goya's life, and was connected to several illnesses he had experienced (and the fear of relapsing) and political turmoil in Spain at the time (post-Napolean war, changing Spanish government, etc.

Trivia fact 1: Goya actually made these paintings right on the walls of the Quinta del Sordo (so-called Deaf Man's villa) where he was staying -- so I love that Apatow had Dieter also paint right on the walls.

Trivia fact 2: while Goya was living in this villa, he actually became gravely ill (again) - not by a pandemic obviously, but it's hard to not link that loosely to the COVID period. He had never intended for these 'Black Paintings' to become public; "these paintings are as close to being hermetically private as any that have ever been produced in the history of Western art" (the murals were eventually transfered to canvas by other folks once he had moved out of the villa). Switching back to The Bubble -- I love how the tragic influence of Goya's illness(es) and art/things 'made at home away from the world, not intended for an audience' (so obviously, in a bubble) has that connection to the COVID experience and how many folks were suddenly homebound, along with the burden of illness in many ways (lord knows this all did a serious number on our mental health). In the movie, Dieter and the others do not want to go into isolation again, but that solitude is what eventually led him to painting on the walls in his room. This is not a 'grand discovery' of any kind, but I got a kick out of the parellels once I read up on it - and honestly makes me appreciate the movie a bit more, haha.

Not happy about another quarantine period.

Alright, more hyperfocusing after the cut:

Some googling led me to a post from last year by @nicolethered (gifs in this post are hers), and she included screencaps of the walls of Dieter's room (during that drug scene), which I hadn't even noticed while watching the movie. Upon taking a closer look, I noticed they're outtakes from other pieces of Goya's Black Paintings! I thought that was really cool, they sure worked on the details with that set (there's one more that's shown in a different shot but I can't exactly figure out which outtake that is):

First one is a mirror image from Two Old Men Eating Soup and the second one is basically Satan aka 'The Great He-Goat' from the Witches' Sabbath painting. Which IMO makes for fucking hilarious perfection a.k.a. trivia fact 3 -- because we all know about Dieter and his little emotional support goat, LOL. Excellent connection.

*insert sound bit from Hot Ones interview* : "Just let me love you!"

Anywaaay there's more. The Bubble was shot during Feb 22, 2021 to April 16, 2021, right? Pedro has spoken about how his input in shaping Dieter was mostly regarding his outfits (the Crocs, the robe, etc). But then I suddenly remember the Talk Art interview he had done in 2018, and how he namechecks 'The Dog' by Goya - and lo, guess which painting is actually part of the 14 Black Paintings? Yeap - the dog! So I checked the podcast and he was asked, 'if you could be any painting, what painting would you be?' by Russell. Here is the painting, and below it is what he said on Talk Art:

'The Drowning Dog' by Goya

"I think… it's a Goya. Yeah, old school. I think it's called 'Dog Buried in Sand' or something like that. It's so… I remember feeling it was such a visual representation of helplessness, in such a… come on, let's all admit that helplessness is a very recurring feeling for many of us, you know what I mean? When it comes to so many things. I guess… I was in Spain, in Madrid, and I was 20. And I went to the Goya museum. What's interesting about it is that the head of the dog is really quite small and sort of adorable, it looks like a stray mutt, and the painting - if I can remember it correctly - is very rectangular. There's so much above him, like the world just seems so big. It's quite incredible, isn't it? I know it's really sad, and sort of dark, and maybe I really like enjoy perceiving myself like..." (He gets interrupted by Russell, and then continues;) "Yeah, he's certainly not dying, it's sort of - it's a moment", (then interrupts himself with;) "Maybe he's totally dying, there's no way that dog is getting out of that. That dog is SO fucked. Anyway, that's the painting that represents my life". (All three of them burst out into laughing.)

If you're still reading this - I am impressed with your dedication to my silly little post, haha. Anyway, I just thought it was so striking that there basically is a straight line from the painting he mentioned in Talk Art to what Dieter is painting in the Bubble. Makes me wonder if perhaps he - or even Russell/Robert - had any input in that part of Dieter's backstory.

Thank you for attending my TED Talk on artistic analysis of Dieter Bravo during COVID, we now resume your regularly scheduled program for Saturday night. 🤪

(Have I been smoking because a local dispensary actually had 'Mando' bud? I sure as fuck have and I blame that for this post.)

[meraki-yao]

This is a mess of a brain rot

So once upon a time I wrote some ideas of what would happen if we put Nick's characters in a room

Yesterday I was reading a fic from Chinese RWRB fandom where George (Mary & George, Nick) Marco (The Kissing Booth, Taylor), and Tom (The Beneath My Feet, Nick) were side characters and school friends with the daughter oc of the fic

All of them are pre-teens, Tom is an adorable, shy baby, George is the prettiest boy in school and has boys literally falling over their feet for his smile, and Marco is Tom's boyfriend who walks him home and defends him from bullies (as much as a boyfriend as a kid can be)

And I was reminded of a fic series from my other fandom (it's Chinese) where the author basically rounded up the actors' other characters (who kinda had either no chemistry or a shit relationship storyline in their original work), made them housemates, and basically paired them up and created a big cross over rom-com

And I immediately started brainstorming and thinking of an RWRB/ Taylor Nick Universe version of the same concept: Henry as an Eng Lit student and Alex a Law student, Robert (Cinderella, Nick) can be Henry's cousin who's doing a musical theatre degree, Marco, Tom, Johnnie (High Strung, Nick) (and maybe Conor (Handsome Devil, Nick)?) could all be music students, George's whole trajectory maybe can be translating into a sugar daddy situation still with some form of King James, maybe all of Nick's characters are in one apartment complex and all of Taylor's characters neighbouring them etc etc... This whole idea got me so freaking excited

And then a slew of questions flooded my mind: How do I want to do this? Comic? Ask blog? Fic? Bullet point posts? Am I gonna commit to this? Is there even an audience for this? How much bullshit can I come up with?

Also, what the fuck am I gonna do with the characters? I only really know Henry, Alex, Conor, Marco, and maybe Robert, and maybe Timmy. I don't really have the time or the interest to watch all of the boys' filmography (sorry I love the boys with all my heart but I'm a really plot-driven viewer when it comes to shows/movies), what am I gonna do with that? What am I gonna do with shipping? I say this with all the love for Taylor but Nick does have a larger filmography thus more characters than he does, and even just with Marco I have no idea who to pair him up with because there are so many possible good ship dynamics but I prefer just sticking to one ship? What the fuck?

Yeah I don't fucking know if there's a point I'm trying to make or a conclusion I'm trying to reach but here ya go Welcome to the mess that is my mind