#his eyes in the second to last? i would simply exit this ice the arena this plane of existence

[feistypaants-archived]

Between The Pipes [Chapter 24]

Rating: M Words: 2390 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: when the gala that was only supposed to be one chapter including smut is now going to span three not including the smut.... hoo hooooo. Hope no one minds lol. 

Enjoy!

The ride over had been quick, which Kristoff had been relatively thankful for. The way Anna had shifted had revealed a long, high slit in the skirts of her dress, stopping only inches below the apex of her leg and pelvis, her pale skin a glaring contrast against her dark dress. It wasn’t enough to say that it was a major distraction. 

She had kept adjusting it as she leaned across the car to continue a conversation with Jelissa, but Sven clearly hadn’t missed how Kristoff’s eyes kept darting down to the freckles dotting her thigh. The shit-eating grin that had stretched on his lips only served to piss Kristoff off. He knew he wasn’t going to stop hearing about this tonight.

But fuck he couldn’t stop thinking about slipping his hand under all the layers of skirts and touching her gently, savoring the feel of her soft skin before finding her center and bringing her over the edge with his fingers. It would be so easy…

He sighed as the limo pulled up outside the arena, waiting in line behind other cars to let their riders out on a red carpet, rolled out long and decorated with thousands of lights. A marquee was secured above the entrance, blocking out the usual signage, reading simply The Roaring Twenties.

He supposed they used all their creativity up in designing the theme. 

But he couldn’t lie that he felt himself getting just slightly more excited now that they were here. He watched through the window as some attendees and players walked up the carpet, their photos being taken as they headed inside, and couldn’t wait to escort Anna down the walkway. He knew all eyes would be on her, glowing and beautiful as her dress sparkled while she walked, and he didn’t mind one bit that he was simply an arm to show her off. She deserved to feel like a princess, and he was happy to be her escort.

When they were next in line, Anna and Jelissa made an effort to check one another over, making sure there were no makeup or hair mishaps, and then both turned to face their respective partners. Kristoff couldn’t help but smile as Anna’s knees bumped into his. 

She lifted her hands to straighten Kristoff’s bow tie and he felt his whole face flush. “Hey,” she smiled, resting flat palms on his chest, just like she had on their first night out, and Kristoff prayed she couldn’t feel his heart racing beneath them. “I know I’m probably not going to see too much of you once we’re in there…” Her palm came up to his cheek, pressing gently against it. “I didn’t want to forget to tell you how handsome you look. Like…seriously, you should wear more bold suits more often.”

He couldn’t stop the toothy smile that took over his face.

His hands found her wrists, and lowered her hand before cupping them between his, and placed a tender kiss against her fingers. “Come find me whenever. I can leave for a bit. Sven won’t mind, I’m sure.”

Sven rolled his eyes but agreed as their driver stopped the car and stepped out to come around and open their door. He stepped out first, giving his hand to Jelissa as she adjusted the long train of her gown around her legs. His suit was white with blush pink accents and she wore pinks and golds to complement, and even Kristoff couldn’t deny that they looked perfect together. His fedora sat perfectly atop his curls and she had her hair done in a way that it fell over her shoulder in a waterfall of waves. 

The driver peeked in and gestured for them to exit too. 

Kristoff did his best to exit the car in a seemingly effortless way, but his large size always seemed to complicate it. Holding his hat to his head as he stepped out, Kristoff tried to ignore the flashing lights as he reached a hand back down for Anna.

She twisted perfectly, the slit of her dress showing off her skin and heels as they touched the ground with more grace than he could ever hope to have. It only took a moment for him to remember that she was from a wealthy family and there was a decent chance she had done events like these before. But when she stood up, her skirt billowing around her as she reached for his arm, Kristoff didn’t seem to care at all that she was miles out of his league.

Anna was here with him. And for now, she was his. 

He couldn’t help himself as they approached the end of the carpet. He spun her twice, admiring the smile on her face, and bowed at the waist as he stepped over the threshold, his hand out and ready for her when she skipped the last few steps forward. She followed him through the door, both of her hands resting in his as he stood back up, soft smiles gracing both of their lips. 

“Anna… You-“

“Anna!” Honeymaren came darting up, grabbing her hands out of his, and urged her to follow, the smallest wave of a hello and a goodbye the only thing letting him know that Honey had even noticed him.

Anna waved over her shoulder as she was pulled away, he assumed to get on with some of the recording for IBTV, and Kristoff let out a heavy sigh before another hand clapped down on his shoulder. 

“You ready?” Sven grinned, squeezing once. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Part of the fun of the event was the gambling - every attendee was given fifty dollars of chips to start, and the more they played, the more the team hoped would sell and therefore be donated to the charity. And since the players were the dealers, it was always popular.

Kristoff and Sven got lucky enough to work the blackjack tables, and they always had lines.

The arena was fully transformed.

The whole right half was now a casino - there were about ten blackjack tables, six for poker, and two for roulette. A few other games sat around the edges, manned by some of the newer players, some spinning wheels with random prizes that cost chips to enter, and even a few unmanned slot machines. A few of the guys were at the auction tables, a few serving drinks, and then a couple more even behind the bar. It was an all-in experience where fans could be close to the players and get to know them a bit better while doing some good and giving back to charity. 

And, as always, there were copious amounts of alcohol. 

Through the night the guys worked one shift, getting half of the night to work and the other half to play - and Kristoff was ecstatic to be on the first shift. That meant he had the whole back half of the evening to have fun with his friends and drink a little and maybe even sweep his gorgeous girl off her feet and, if he had enough to drink, bring her to the dance floor and see how she could move.

The night was speeding by and before he knew it, his shift was done - He hadn’t even had a minute to be sad about not seeing Anna while he was working before Nieminen was tapping him on the shoulder and letting him know he was free to go. It was clear that his backup goalie was a little tipsy, but it was all part of the fun.

He thanked his last patron, grinned at Sven, and ran to find Anna the second he left his seat.

—

-

—

Anna waved over her shoulder as Honeymaren literally dragged her to the back room to get her set up for the opening shots for IBTV. It was a whirlwind as she was escorted around the room with a camera in her face, interviewing attendees and players and directors about how this night had come to be. They shoved a drink in her hand, told her to pretend to drink it and talk up the specialty cocktails before leading her back to the front entrance and having her record a quick introduction and conclusion to the video. 

As worn out as she already was, she was glad that she only had to participate in this for a short while. Then she would be able to spend the rest of her night actually drinking and having fun with her friends.

She heard him before she saw him. Just as they were wrapping up the video’s outro, Anna stood up straighter at the sound of her fathers’ voice booming over the music and practically traveling directly to her. She looked up, meeting his eyes briefly before she smiled and headed his way. He was finishing up a quick questionnaire with Gerda as she approached, and he nodded down at her when she got close enough to hug him. 

“Hi papa.”

It only hit her then that she hadn’t seen him in months. It hadn’t felt that long.

“Where are mama and Elsa?”

He scoffed, and Anna was immediately reminded why it had felt that way. 

“I assume your mother went straight for the bar. Elsa… I’m not sure.” He looked around, his eyes narrowed as Anna bit her lip slightly and stepped back, her own dropping to the ground between them. She knew this wasn’t his scene and she was proud he had shown up, but the suspicious expression that was taking over his features had her nervous and biting at her lip. 

Then she heard her name from a familiar voice, and felt her whole body relax. 

Elsa was coming towards them, a smile on her face, and an icy-blue gown hanging low on her shoulders and trailing on the ground behind her. Anna practically ran at her sister, enveloping her in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Elsa.”

Immediately her father disappeared, and Anna was almost relieved.

“So,” her sister started, a teasing tone in her words. “Where is this boy toy of yours? It only feels right that I meet him.”

Anna laughed and shoved her sister’s shoulder before looking around for the time, missing Elsa’s eyes glancing up behind her. It was already almost half-way through the event. “Oh, he should be done any minute now!” 

As if on cue, Anna felt a pair of hands wrap around her shoulders, and a warm mouth press against the back of her neck, making her flush from the chest up. 

Elsa smiled knowingly. 

“Kristoff,” Anna sighed, wiggling under his grip just enough to get his attention. “This is Elsa.” She paused to wait for a reaction but wrapped her fingers around his wrist when he gave no sign of caring. “My sister.”

That got his attention.

“Oh,” he started, standing up straighter and moving his palms to rest on Anna’s bare shoulders. “I’m sorry, um, hi.” He reached out with his right hand and let out one awkward laugh when Elsa shook his hand around Anna’s body. “It’s… nice to meet you.”

Anna blushed deeper as Elsa cocked an eyebrow as her eyes moved up and down the pair, as if trying to make something add up. “Yes, Kristoff, I’ve heard… so much about you.” And deeper still.

It wasn’t like Anna had disclosed the size of his cock to her sister, but she was sure she had spilled more details than Kristoff would really want her sister knowing. And she was positive that Elsa wasn’t able to stop those facts from flooding her head again as she looked at the pair of them. It wasn’t like it was a secret that she was tiny next to him, and one could rightfully assume...

“I’m,” hummed, stepping out to stand beside the both of them. “I’m getting a drink. Anna… a cosmo, right? Elsa, would you like anything?”

Elsa smiled and asked for just a vodka tonic, and Anna let out a happy sigh as he pressed a kiss against her cheek before trotting off to the bar. 

And then she felt Elsa’s eyes lock onto her. “I can see why you’re… interested in him.” She winked. “He’s cute. And… larger than I expected.”

Anna rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, shrugging. “Goalie gear, right? You never know what’s… below it.”

Elsa snickered beneath her hand.

“Shut up.”

It was only a short moment before he came back with their drinks in hand, seeming to be concentrating hard on not spilling them as he made his way through the dark room. He gave Elsa’s hers as smoothly as possible before gripping Anna’s by the bottom of the stem “Here, baby,” he grinned as she took the glass from his fingers. 

He had never called her baby before. Anna felt her heart skip into her throat before she pressed a nervous palm to his cheek. “Thank you, honey.” 

She swore she saw something new glimmer behind his eyes before he ducked down to kiss her, his now free arm snaking around her waist as his other hand rose to the back of her head. This was different. She couldn’t figure out why, but it was, as his lips moved against hers softly and slowly, not rushing, not pushing, just… savoring.

And then Elsa coughed from beside them, causing him to pull away so quickly she thought she might have been on fire. 

Though the way she was blushing this time might have burned her alive anyway.

Kristoff mumbled something along the lines of promising drinks for Sven and Jelissa on the dance floor, and promised to be back as quickly as he could before placing another kiss on her forehead and one more on the tip of her nose as she smiled up at him, her eyes dreamy as a soft smile spread across her lips. Anna wanted nothing more than to follow him and join their friends, but she also wanted her sister to meet them. So she stayed put, eyes following Kristoff as he strutted up to the bar, and only returned her focus to Elsa when she heard her name laughed from her peripheral. 

“Sorry.”

Elsa’s lips where pressed together now, a smile evident in her eyes.

“So… fake, huh?”

#feistypantswrites #btpfic

[mattsammonsez]

Hockey’s Voice

Sometimes you meet people who embody everything you believe makes a good person. Mike “Doc” Emrick is one of those people, and I enjoyed the few times we interacted in the past 13 years.

Mike “Doc” Emrick in his second home. 

When you work in sports broadcasting, your path crosses with the paths of a lot of prominent people, including athletes, coaches, and executives. It’s all part of the job, and admittedly one of the many perks that comes with the territory. While it’s fun to cross paths with these people, there are a select few where you feel blessed that your paths crossed. Mike “Doc” Emrick is one of those people, and you always felt like you knew him and he knew you all your life even if your real life interaction was only 5 minutes. With the announcement from Emrick earlier this week that he is retiring from calling NHL games, I wanted to share a few stories about the times my path fortunately and blessedly crossed with Doc’s.

Like many people my age, we got to know Doc on a regular basis on national television. For me, it was his weekly appearances on the NHL on Fox game of the week in the mid 90’s, as well as numerous New Jersey Devils highlights earlier in the decade as that team was building into a dominant team. In 2005, Doc became the primary voice on the NHL on OLN broadcasts (later Versus, then NBC Sports Network). In 2006, I became the pregame host of Tampa Bay Lightning radio broadcasts, and as I started to settle into my role that season I started gaining new job duties. One of those duties was to pull together guest interviews for our weekly radio show Lightning Hockey Night. In the 2007 playoffs, the Lightning drew the Devils in the first round, and thus my first interaction with Doc would happen as I was trying to get a guest for the program.

We weren’t looking to get Doc on the show as a live guest, but with Doc at the time still calling Devils games I figured he’d be the perfect guest for the show as he was a well-known voice and face even to hockey fans in Florida. Before the morning skate of game 4 with the Lightning up 2-1 in the series, I introduced myself to Doc and asked him if I could get him for just a few minutes to talk about the series. He said he could, and we continued with our usual morning skate routine for the next couple of hours. I hung around the rink until the Devils were done with their skate, and after the locker rooms were closed to the media I approached Doc again to see if he was still able to do a quick interview. This was close to 1 p.m., and with a game starting at 7 or 7:30 that night Doc had plenty of prep to do. Plus his color analyst, the humorous Glenn “Chico” Resch was hungry and wanted lunch. Yet when I politely asked, Doc without hesitation obliged and we sat down in the stands for a few minutes to discuss the series. It was such a special moment, and such a fun interview, I’ve saved it 13 years and counting.

Emrick yucking it up as Jim Carr, the carpet-coiffed play-by-play announcer for the Johnstown Jets in the cult classic film Slap Shot, at Hockeyville USA, 2015.

Fast forward to September 2015. I’m now the Director of Broadcasting & Programming for the Lightning, and I’m on the team plane to Johnstown, Pennsylvania, as the Lightning and Penguins will be squaring off in the first Kraft Hockeyville USA preseason game. Game day was hectic, as the NHL and NBC rolled out the red carpet not only for both teams but for as much Slap Shot as possible since Johnstown was the location of the film shoot 40 years earlier. Along with being that night’s radio engineer for our broadcast, my mission was to pull together as many interviews as possible for a podcast on the event. Knowing the legendary Hanson Brothers would be there, I targeted an interview with them which I was able to score. 

The Cambria County War Memorial Arena was opened in 1950, when comforts such as being able to stretch your legs were not baked into many civic building blueprints. In a tiny locker room I waited for the Hansons to come in, and I did so next to Doc who agreed to also do an interview with me once I was done with the Hansons. The Hansons came in, and not only played the part of their characters well for my interview, but they too were incredibly friendly and great to talk to. While the interview went on, there was that brief fleeting moment in my head; “I’m interviewing three of the greatest hockey movie characters while one of the greatest hockey announcers is sitting in the background watching this.” Quite the moment to say the least. After my conversation with the Hansons, I sat down with Doc to talk to him about what the game meant to him, a former college teacher and newspaper writer in Western Pennsylvania 45 years earlier. You could sense in Doc’s eyes and voice this Hockeyville experience in his old backyard with all the Slap Shot fun and frivolity mixed in was quite the moment for him. The Hanson Brothers and Doc interviews were the cornerstone of my podcast, and all these years later it’s still one of my favorite podcasts of more than 100 I did.

Emrick could make any broadcast better, including a Morning Skate Show in desperate need of some good news in 2018.

Fast forward to May 2018. We’re not in the preseason, we’re in the thick of the postseason, and the Lightning are about to battle the Washington Capitals in the Eastern Conference Final. Prior to game one at the morning skate, Doc and I are two of seemingly 200 people gathering around Alex Ovechkin for pregame interviews. We looked on from a distance, laughing more at the spectacle then actually listening to anything Ovechkin was saying. When the scrum was done, I casually asked Doc if we could have him as a guest on our streaming video program The Morning Skate Show when the series shifted to Washington D.C. for game 3. Doc said he wanted to, we just needed to route the request through NBC public relations, which is always a coin flip on if your wish gets granted. Thankfully for us, it was.

Never before did we need a personality like Doc Emrick like we did then. The Caps humiliated the Lightning for two easy wins in Tampa before the series went to our nation’s capital. In planning for the show, we decided to talk as little as possible about the first two games, and simply turn the show into the Doc Emrick talent show. For almost 45 minutes, Doc talked about everything from the NHL playoffs to memories of AHL games in Halifax 40 years ago when birds in the rafters of the old Halifax Forum pooped on the ice during games. At the end of the show he very quietly but confidently reminded our viewers that if any team was able to get out of 0-2 hole to the Caps, it was the Lightning. It was the reassurance and the fun story telling we all needed, and low and behold the Lightning rallied for three-straight wins before the Caps pulled it together and won the series in seven games on their way to their first Stanley Cup championship. As of 2019, it was still one of the most-watched episodes of the show.

Finally, fast forward to October 2019. Two months earlier, I was informed my position was being “eliminated” at the Lightning, but I refused to be eliminated from the scene. Newly hired to provide a weekly Metro Express podcast to the Philadelphia Flyers (and later the Capitals), I arrived at Amalie Arena for a morning skate prior to a Lightning and Penguins game that was being aired nationally on NBC that night. Once I found out Doc was on the call, I knew I needed to get him for a few minutes to talk Metropolitan Division hockey. I saw Doc sitting in the first couple of rows of seats when I arrived, and I quickly slipped in next to him and asked if I could get his thoughts real quickly. Doc was there to study lines and defensive pairings of both teams, and now at the age of 74 had to double-check all players and facts before putting on another flawless broadcast that night. I was very respectful of his time, and as always he was respectful enough to grant me a few minutes of his busy day.

While there were many similarities to that first interview with Doc in 2007, this time around technology would come back to bite me. Feeling satisfied my iPhone would work as a microphone just fine, I started the interview. Midway through Doc’s first answer, my phone started ringing, cutting off the voice memo app I was using. Thankfully I silenced my phone so it merely buzzed, but in my head I was cursing while Doc was talking. There was no way I was going to ask him to start over again, I was just going to have to eat the moment as I feverishly hung up on the call and pressed record on the voice memo again. While I did this without interrupting Doc’s thoughts, I still got a good 7-8 minutes from him and used it in that week’s show. It was special to connect with Doc again, and I was reminded even as a veteran hockey broadcaster at this time to never ever again do an important interview on my iPhone.

Doc’s retirement announcement didn’t come totally as a surprise to me. I figured with COVID-19 still a factor in our lives for at least the next year or two, the last place a 75-year-old cancer survivor needs to be is in a pressurized airplane cabin or travelling from one cold city to another in the winter. And even though Doc is a pro’s pro, it’s extremely difficult to call a game from a television screen. Whoever is named his successor at NBC has some very big shoes to fill. 

As for me, my career has moved forward from my exit with the Lightning, and while potentially great things await I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover a daily beat in an NHL arena anytime soon. That’s perfectly fine with me, as I’m always looking for a new challenge and can’t wait to see what is ahead for me and my family. That also adds even more emotional value to the times my path crossed with Doc’s path. Hockey fans have been blessed to have him as a prime voice for decades, and I was blessed to interact with him several times in my career. A visit from this doctor was always welcome in the homes and hearts of hockey fans.

[khaosgaming22]

Cryptic Messages from the Deep Stones Below

“Had another nightmare huh?” Rick held the sides of his head and nodded. Chao did not have them nearly as often as Rick and his were much lighter when they occurred. Most of the time he didn’t want to talk about them, but the few times he did he described one as a regular dream. It started out with him in a field of flowers with the sun shining, nothing but the city in the background nestled into the mountain side. Then the sun disappeared, the field of flowers immediately wilted and the city in the background changed. A tower arose and turned the sky from blue to red and it snapped in half to come crashing down on top on him. Then nothing but darkness and an endless army of Exos that came rushing to fight him, leaving no option but to fight back. Chao stopped asking after that dream...

~

The two of them eventually got up and put their armor on to go to the Tower, Exos didn’t need to eat either. Chao did with Ken and Drake on occasion but most of the time he skipped the pointless activity. They made their way toward Shaxx before going to the Crucible for the day, however the Titan threw a bit of a wrench into their plans.

“Ah! Chao and Rick my two favorite Crucible warriors! How has the morning been for you two?” Chao looked over at Rick who gave a shake of his head signaling to keep quiet.

“Been good so far Shaxx.” Chao responded fixing his mark a bit.

“Good to hear. Sorry to interrupt your utter domination of the enemy team but can I ask you something?” Chao shrugged.

“Sure thing. What do you need us to do?” Shaxx showed them a map on a tablet.

“I am thinking about where to put a new Crucible arena and this place looked interesting.” Chao looked at the area and nodded, then he stopped for a second when he read the location: Enceladus. A moon in Saturn’s orbit that was full of ice to most, but to Exos... it was full of terror. He knew he already agreed to it so he couldn’t back out now.

“We’ll scope it out Shaxx.” He replied nodding and Rick gave a thumbs up, the two were inseparable, whatever Chao did Rick did and vise versa.

“Excellent! I would pay you in Crucible tokens but I think you have enough of those already.” Shaxx said laughing in his booming voice.

“Glimmer is just fine, don’t sweat it.” Chao replied, Shaxx nodded and waved as they transmatted to their ships. Chao took the lead and Rick followed as they passed the asteroid belt and the large mass of the gas giant Jupiter.

“So I guess we’re goin pretty far today aren’t we?” Chao responded with a simple “yup”, refraining from telling where they were heading for the time being.

“So... where then?” Chao tensed his grip on the controls of the ship, he couldn’t lie to him, but he could tell him half of the story.

“Moon of Saturn.” He said simply, trying not to say it too quickly in fear of arousing suspicion. Luckily it didn’t and Rick nodded in his cockpit. Chao navigated them past the giant hole in the planets ring, the battleground of the Awoken people’s first push against Oryx the Taken King. Many lives were lost to the energy pulse that created the large gap and it was also the last player Mara was seen until one guardian discovered the Dreaming City. Chao and Rick touched down on the icy surface of the frozen moon and loaded their weapons just in case.

“Huh... this place seems oddly familiar somehow.” Rick pondered as the two walked to the site Shaxx mentioned, which wasn’t easy because the wind was strong and snow was blowing around everywhere. Chao stayed quiet, he would either figure it out eventually, or wouldn’t. He hoped it was door number two.

“Alright, here we are.” He said looking up at the map and taking in the large expanse of ice sheets from the cliff of a glaicer. He looked confused until he saw the cargo ship encased in the mass of the cliff.

“So... where exactly is he thinking this area is going to be?” Rick asked and looked down at where Chao pointed. Rick gave a very pleased smirk. “Oh helllll yes!” Chao laughed and began to make his way down to the ship as Rick followed taking glances at the surroundings. He could see almost all of the planet in the distance.

~

Chao and Rick jumped down onto what was the dock of the Golden Age freighter and looked around. The ship was completely lodged into the ice so they didn’t need to worry about it coming down.

“I can see why Shaxx wanted to put it here, the view is amazing and this ship is the perfect size.” Rick nodded in agreement.

“Definitely, I could see point A here, point B over there and point C right....” He stopped and looked at the logo on the other half of the split ship. Chao glanced over to him and could tell something was wrong even without his helmet off.

“What’s wrong Rick? oh....” He saw the insignia that read clear as day the words every Exo started from: Clovis Bray...

“Clovis Bray?! But we’re not on Mars, we’re on..... Enceladus.” Rick paced around frantically and his vision began to become distorted like he was having flashbacks, except they weren’t, more like visions.

“Hey hey hey, Rick stay with me bud.” Chao said attempting to snap him out of it, it wasn’t working though. Rick’s vision got worse then it blackened and he saw the tower in the distance. Nestled into the mountain range with the city, the ice disappeared along with the ship and Chao was only seen as an enemy to him. Rick’s eyes turned red and he lunged at Chao with arc energy crackling in his fist. Chao jumped and put up his barricade.

“Rick what the hell?! This isn’t the time for a match!” Chao noticed his eyes and terror ran down his synthetic spine. Rick took out his shotgun and rushed him spraying shells that only bounced off his wall. He jumped over it and switched to his Lunas Howl firing hancannon rounds at Chao. Chao realized this was no Crucible fight, if he died now he would tear apart Servo and he’d die for good.

“Alright then Rick, if it’s a fight you want, then it’s a fight you’ll get.” He said switching to his Recluse that hit him dead on but didn’t kill him entirely. Rick made an attempt with his grenade launcher and Chao put up his Ward of Dawn to shield himself from the explosives. They bounced off and hit Rick which sent him flying toward the edge of the ship. Chao exited his bubble and walked over to him keeping his SMG aimed and ready. He couldn’t imagine what this was like for Rick. Rick picked himself back up holding his side and lunged at him slamming the ground in one final push. It knocked Chao off his feet but he quickly shut him down with a well placed tracking rocket. Rick was blasted away and Getty appeared to revive him.

~

“Phew! That was intense.” Chao said putting his weapons away. Rick was back soon and held his head in his hands.

“What... what happened? And why does everything hurt?” Chao helped him up and sat him down on a crate that was frozen shut.

“I honestly have no clue, but since we are on Enceladus I’m guessing the Crypt got to ya somehow...” Rick’s optics snapped open.

“The... the Crypt? Oh god Chao what did I do?!” He grabbed his head and looked down at the dock.

“Hey hey Rick calm down everything is fine okay? You just went a little nuts for a bit, all that matters now is you’re back.” He stopped panicking after a while and nodded slowly. Chao smiled knowing his friend was back but knew that they probably should leave soon in case it happened again.

“Hey?” Rick asked Chao looking at the box they were sitting on. “I think this is a weapon symbol.” Sure enough the crate had the letters CB and a rifle in the middle of the two.

“Well... what say we crack this thing open and see what’s inside? Glimmer from Shaxx will be nice buuuut it’s not like we should let these go to waste.” Chao said smirking and Rick nodded, punched the layer of frost off and shot the latch. A pile of weaponry spilled out onto the dock and Rick grabbed a machine gun.

“Ooh! That looks like it could pack a punch!” Chao said looking it over, it had a dark red paint job with vents on the side, probably to keep it from overheating, as well as the Clovis Bray insignia. Rick arched an eyebrow and slung it over his giant shoulders.

“Yeah well I saw it first soooo dibs.” Chao looked at him and grinned.

“Now Rick, you know our policy with dibs.” Rick cursed under his breath.

“If you call dibs and someone else challenges you fight for it.” He quoted. “Yeah yeah alright...” He put the gun up on another crate and readied his handcannon. “Ready to get your ass kicked Chao-5?” Chao laughed and loaded his Recluse.

“Nope! But I hope you are Rick-6!”

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny titan #destiny exo #destiny the game #bungie

[lavenderbones22]

Dark Paradise- Ben Hardy

Summary: Ben's girlfriend is one of the most famous singers in the world. What happens when one night his jealousy gets the better of him?

Requested: 'hiii 💖could you please write something angsty with Ben where the reader is a celebrity, paparazzis and fans follow her all the time and Ben gets mad bc he just wants to be alone with her and he's not used to all of that and they get into an argument? Thank u, have a nice day :)'

Word Count: 2963

-----------

She lived for the attention. She loved the way her name sounded when it was shouted throughout an entire arena. She loved the signs her fans would make, holding them up amongst thousands of people hoping for a chance to be seen. She loved hearing her lyrics sung back to her; so deep and so personal.

She wasn't narcissistic, no, quite the opposite actually. Although she exuded an intense confidence when she stood in front of the microphone, the second she came off of that stage she morphed back into the girl she really was. That girl wasn't weak nor was she self demoralising. She was just a portion of the woman she tried to portray to her audience; someone who was strong enough to live this life and void of pain from the things said about her.

She'd sung since she could talk. Her mother alway said that she could never get her to stop once she knew how and that memory always made her smile. She was addicted to Sing Star, her friends never understanding how she was so good and they were not. It was something that just came natural to her, something she didn't think twice about.

She had thought twice about a lot of things in her life and along with singing, her boyfriend Ben was another. Having met two years ago and shortly after entering into an exclusive relationship, Ben had quickly become her second vice. She wasn't known when they met, he more familiar to the public due to his character on Eastenders. In the two years they'd been together her career had grown, thrusting her full force into a farfetched level of fame that she had only ever dreamed about.

And although she had work commitments most days, more times than not often taking her out of London, her relationship with Ben still continued to blossom.

Ben always remembered the moment he met her as clear as day. They were in a coffee shop, her arms full from the orders of everyone in her office; she was the new receptionist. She had nearly dropped the tray but lucky for her Ben's reflexes were on point and he was able to stop them from falling out of her arms.

"Thank you," her voice was sweet as she looked into the eyes of the blonde boy.

"S'alright," he'd responded, helping her put the coffees back in their original spots. "D'ya need any help?" He couldn't stop himself from looking at her pink, plump lips as she licked them unintentionally.

"Erm, I'm fine thank you." The way she had looked at him, as if begging him to say something more. The lip bite too, was what proceeded to made him weak at his knees and what followed was totally out of character for him.

"Well then, I'd really like to see you again. Can I have your number?"

And that was it.

Weeks later they were dating exclusively, neither second guessing the speed at which they were moving in their relationship. They figured if it felt right, so why not?

Lately though, Ben had been feeling aggravated. He loved his girl more than anything but that was just the problem. He loved her and he wanted to spend all the time with her that he could but so did everybody else in the entire world. She was being pulled constantly from pillar to post and trying to please everyone and of course Ben saw that, he saw just how hard she tried to balance all the aspects of her life but that didn't make it any easier on him and how he felt.

He was busy too though, filming 'Bohemian Rhapsody' where he was playing rock legend, Roger Taylor. She'd only managed to visit him on set once. And that once was basically her socialising with his co-stars who at the time hadn't realised she was dating Ben and naturally all freaked the fuck out.

He loved seeing that side of her. He knew why everyone loved her, she was an incredible person. But he wanted her to himself. Was that so bad?

Just last week he'd organised a date night at her favourite restaurant in London. Not only were they followed from the car to the restaurant by the incessant snaps and calls of the paparazzi, but during their dinner the paparazzi were pressed up against the window constantly taking photos. The pair ended up moving tables where they weren't seen but by then, they had both had enough and taken the back door exit .

"Ben?"

Her voice rang through the home they shared in Chelsea.

"Are you home?"

Putting her Louis Vuitton bag down on the kitchen table, she went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of iced tea.

"Babe?" She called again.

"'m here," he responded lazily, walking in from the study.

"Why'd you not answer me the first time?" She questioned him, rinsing her glass and putting it away.

"Sorry, I was concentrating." He typed away at his phone. She frowned. "Was going over some lines."

She could sense he was acting a bit off. Usually being so affectionate and attentive to her, kissing her almost immediately when she walked in the door. Unpacking some things their housekeeper had bought from the grocery store, her eyes remained on him as he hadn't yet looked up from his phone to even acknowledge her.

She let it go a few moments, maybe she was overreacting. But after at least five minutes had passed and zero interaction on his end, she had to say something.

"What's going on?"

He looked up at her, finally. His green eyes, usually bright and igniting, were dull.

"Nothin'."

She rolled her eyes at his mediocre response. "I don't appreciate being lied to Ben." The air around them was beginning to tense, the low sounds of 'The Doors' playing from the study where he'd been inhabiting the past two hours was the only thing making the situation at present even slightly bearable.

"I literally only said nothin'" he scoffed with a smirk on his face she wanted to slap right off. He pulled a chair out and sat at the table, face glued to his phone once more.

"No need to be condescending," she sighed. "You're being a dick, Ben. Have you got a problem with me?" It saddened her. She knew they were about to get into an argument, something they never did.

"I've barely spoken since you got in," he laughed arrogantly. "How am I being a dick?"

"It's the way you're talking Ben!" Her voice was getting louder. He was being impossible. "You're speaking to me like I'm a piece of shit on the ground." She slammed the fridge door after having put the milk inside.

"Calm." His tone insinuated he was mocking her.

He knew he was being an ass to her; it was purposeful. Although he knew none of what was going on was her fault, she was simply the only person he had to take it out on. And besides, she could try a little harder with their relationship. To put it simply, Ben felt second, heck, he felt one hundredth best in her life right now.

"If you speak to me in that tone one more time, I'm leaving." She knew he thought her threat was an empty one. She even thought that maybe it was but she also knew that she had so many other places to go if Ben wasn't going to treat her right.

"You're not leaving," he put his phone down on the table and looked at her. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Shit. Now he felt bad.

"If you're not going to speak to me in the way that I deserve then I will leave Ben. Don't tempt me, because I'll get my shit and I'll be out of here so fucking fast." She could feel the tears brimming the corners of her eyes and she was desperately trying to avoid his big eyes that were now heavily set on her.

"Stop acting like I'm some sort of abusive bastard," his accent was pronounced like it usually was when he spoke sternly, something she usually found charming, but not when it was directed at her.  "I treat you like a queen and you know it!"

"Then talk to me Ben!" She yelled, gesturing her hands at the blonde boy. "Tell me what the fuck is going on inside of your head because although I know you like the back of my hand I can't read your mind so I really need you to help me out here!" Her voice was breaking as she spoke to him. The tears having already fallen down her cheeks.

His anger had dispersed and made way for his guilt. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe all of this was getting to her too.

"I just miss you," he spoke lowly.

She raised her brows. "You miss me?"

He nodded. "You always have everybody wanting your attention. I never feel like I get to have you to myself anymore. There’s always paparazzi or fans or friends or whoever the fuck else," he explained. “I just miss the days when it was you and me against the world.”

Her heart broke a little at what he was telling her."Why haven't you told me you felt like this sooner?" She was stood beside the table where he was still sat in one of the chairs.

"No clue honestly. I guess I'm just not as used to all of this as you are."

"You need to speak up Ben. Because if you don't tell me I can't try and change anything," she pulled the chair out opposite to him and sat down. "Besides, you're going to have to get used to this sort of attention yourself once the movie's out," she smiled. "The girls will go crazy for you."

"Yeah, right," he laughed. "Not likely."

The two shared a moment in laughter. Both feeling more relaxed now that the worst seemed to be over.

"We okay?" She asked him, leaning across the table and grabbing his hands in hers. "I love you. It’s still us against the world. Always will be."

"We're fine," he smiled, his green eyes lighting up again like they always did when he looked at her. "And I love you too."

She took this moment to get up and sit on his lap. "You know what..." her voice had lowered now, sultry.

"What?" His hand was on the top of her ass rubbing lovingly. Hers both around his neck as she looked down at him.

"I'm not busy now..."

Ben certainly wasn't a miss to her suggestion, picking up what she was laying down right away. He pulled her onto his body fully, her legs sitting either side of his muscular thighs as he began to ravage her neck

"Well you will be in a second," his lips against her skin felt like heaven, hands rubbing her full ass that was covered in her tight jeans. She started rubbing herself against him by moving back and forth, feeling him grow underneath her as the pressure between them became more taut.

His mouth was attached to hers in a hot kiss, tongues messy, moans slipping wildly from each of their mouths.

Breaking the kiss, Ben pulled away looking over her gorgeous face.

"You are so beautiful." He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. She giggled. Then he kissed her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," She replied, her hand on his neck, their foreheads against one another.

Ben had a way of making her feel like she was the only girl on the planet. That was why her reaction to his behaviour the last little while was so dramatic; it was completely out of character for him. Whenever they were together, which was most of the time, she always felt safe, protected, desired but most of all she felt loved. He was her number one, her partner in crime. So naturally, when one feels that beginning to strain stress levels rise.

She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his teeth dug into the skin of her neck.

"That's right baby, be as loud as you need to be," he coaxed her. He loved it when she screamed, let him and the neighbours know who was making her feel so good.

Her  fingers clenched onto the fabric of his t-shirt on his shoulders while his big hands gripped tightly at her hips. She started to grind against him harder, he was practically fully hard now. He groaned loudly as the pressure between their bodies was at an all time high; she needed him naked as soon as possible.

"Take this off," she demanded, running her hands up his stomach against his hot skin and helping him pull his t-shirt off. "I just don't understand why you even wear shirts," she giggled eyeing the muscles that moved underneath his skin. She certainly didn't miss the enlarged veins running along his forearms.

"I just don't understand why you do either," he retorted with his hands immediately underneath hers, t-shirt and ripping it over her head. His lips were along her collarbone, licking, biting, sucking and she drove her nails into the skin of his back. He groaned, Ben loved it when she left marks across his back.

He moved his hands behind her back and unclipped her bra, it falling down beside them. His mouth was on her nipple without a thought. She arched her back so he had a bit more room and had her hand behind his head holding him in place. His tongue flicked and bit down creating more noises from her. Ben had always been a boobs guy, often telling her that hers were one of his favourite parts of her body.

Hands moving up her body slowly, pulling her into him as he devoured one breast then the next. This man could virtually bring her to orgasm by simply doing that.

"Fucking hell your tits!" He growled, pulling away and kissing her passionately again. "They'll be the death of me," he chuckled.

A smirk and a hand along his waistband brought his attention elsewhere.

She opened his jeans , his erection already rebelling against its restrains. Pulling them down along with his underwear she freed his huge cock, the veins already prominent and thick, and she began to jerk it.

"Mmm, let me..mmm," he could barely get a sentence out with her fingers around him like they were. He didn't need to vocalise what he wanted; she knew.

"Here," she released him for a second while she pulled her underwear down and over her legs, throwing them away. "Better?" she smirked.

"Much better," a contented smile on his face.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his finger against her wet folds. He pushed it in, curling it at exactly the right spot, causing her to squeal. Pinching her clit hard, she gripped him tighter and let out a small shriek. He moaned against her lips before kissing her hard and sliding two of his long fingers into her pussy. She let herself sink forward, not being able to support her own weight anymore, and she moaned against his neck while she continued to jerk him.

"Make up sex is so hot,"he groaned, hardly able to keep concentrated on her, but still alert enough to keep fucking her with his fingers.

Their foreheads rested against each other while they both moaned, enjoying the moment of intimacy after such heated words and stressful situations. "Me too," she groaned when he rubbed the palm of his hand against her clit and added a third finger.

That was the moment he chose to retrieve his fingers and put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. "Fuck, you taste good baby." A fresh set of goose bumps ran down her spine and arms. This man was the king of turning her into a melting mess. She smiled at his comment and directed his face to her own, kissing him with all that she had.

He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her back, sucking on her lower lip, rubbing his nose against hers.

She jerked his dick softly in a circular fashion and kissed him, licking his tongue. "I love you so much... so fucking much," she murmured between kisses and she felt him smile against her lips. "I'm sorry for making you feel forgotten." His hands settled down on her hips, lifting her up a little.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her "But I love you more darlin'," he grinned and positioned her over his erection. "Ready?"

"Born ready," she announced happily and moaned while he sank her down on his erection. His dick practically pierced into her small body. She was sure that if she took her hand out of Ben's hair, she could feel him in her belly. He increased the pressure on her hips and started to move her up and down his cock, causing him to groan and to start panting.

"Oh fuuuuuck," he moaned with an open mouth and big eyes. She absolutely loved the way he moaned so freely and loudly. He ran his hands through her long hair and moved with her, pushing his dick into her. "Oh fuck, you feel good. My beautiful girl you feel fucking good..."

Her fingers were tangled in his hair as she bounced up and down. Not so soft sounds falling out of me like raindrops from the sky.

"I'm nearly there," she warned him. "So close."

He gripped her tighter, knuckles white, as he brought her to her orgasm. Loudly, she tightened around his cock, her juices coating him nicely. That feeling brought his own orgasm on rather quickly, shooting into her before he knew what was what.

There was no mistaken that make up sex was indeed one of the best.

"Fuck babe," he laughed as he dropped his sweaty forehead against her shoulder. "Such a good fuck."

"And remember," she put her fingers underneath his chin to make him look at her. "No one else gets me like this. Only you Mr Hardy."

TAG LIST: @fuckinghurricanesoul @spidreling @tanya-is-dead @ziggysstarrdust @screaminggalileochickenwrites @galileoqueen-mama-mia @mortifiedmoon @softbenhardy 

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy smut #queen fanfic #queensmut

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, Ch. 11 (11/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8  9 10

Chapter 11

Mayhem. Total and complete mayhem.

The darkness surrounded Emma and her hand went directly to the taser she carried at her lower back. She positioned herself closer to Belle and one thought repeated through her mind as the seconds ticked by.

How the fuck had Killian pulled this one off?

The lights came back on suddenly, their brightness blinding for a brief moment. She reached for Belle, ensuring she was still standing next to her.

And then chaos erupted.

In the ring, the two boxers were fighting, their people trying to pull them apart as tempers ran high. The violence spread to the audience and Emma could only imagine what the casino floor would be like. The lights out, all those chips within reach, everyone blind and no one to put a stop to it. It would be too big a temptation for most people.

She was sure it wasn’t pretty on the floor.

Moving into action, she instructed Belle to grab her coat and stood next to her as they exited the arena with Gold. The man’s face was twisted into a grimace, his eyes flashing bright and his posture rigid. A man like him didn’t like losing control and that was exactly what was happening, and on a night that required him to take extra precaution. If Killian had wanted to put the man on edge, he sure picked the exact thing to do just that.

Emma’s hand twitched at her side as she remembered that Killian was currently being held somewhere in this building, at the mercy of Gold and the thugs that made up his ‘security’ team. But before she could follow those thoughts to their natural conclusion, her jacket pocket vibrated and an unknown ringtone blared through the air around them. Shaking her head in confusion, she reached inside her pocket as Gold and Belle halted.

She looked down to find a burner phone, the display flashing with an incoming call from an unknown number.

“Are you going to answer, Miss Swan?” Gold’s voice was flat and curt, a man obviously annoyed by another interruption to his already hectic evening.

“This isn’t mine,” Emma stated before she swiped the screen and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Can I speak with Mr. Gold, please.” The voice on the other side was distorted, and not by static. Something was masking the voice to make it unrecognizable.

The hairs on the nape of her neck rose in an instant, but she tamped it down. Panicking right now would solve nothing. Keeping her voice calm and even, she handed the phone over to Gold. “They are requesting to speak with you.”

With a huff, Gold grabbed the phone from her hand and put it in his ear. “Who is this?”

The reply came loud and clear through the speaker. “The man who’s robbing you.”

Emma turned around, her eyes scanning the place as she reached for her taser. There were multiple incidents going on around them, but nothing security wasn’t already handling. Gold seemed to have done the same, because his reply came back a second later.

“I don’t see anything going on in my casino that my team is not already taking care of.”

“You might want to take a closer look, Mr. Gold.”

/-/

The trek to the security room was a short one, and while neither of them ran, they sure put some speed in their steps. Muting the phone, Gold entered the room, his eyes scanning the monitors.

“Is there something out of order on any of the floors? The vault? The library?!?”

The security guards sat with their backs straight, all of them leaning in to study their monitors. “Everything looks fine, sir. We had a couple of incidents on the floor, but nothing that our team doesn’t now have under control.”

Just as they finished speaking, a few of the monitors blinked, their images suddenly changing. Emma’s eyes widened as she walked towards the monitors, what she saw on them making her gasp out loud despite herself. Three masked men were in the vault, tossing stacks of cash onto bags that laid on the floor. The three guards charged to protect the vault were lying bound and unconscious in the corridor, their submachine guns pushed well out of reach.

Gold was being robbed. And she knew exactly by whom.

Emma turned to find Gold clenching his jaw, and the hand that wasn’t holding the phone morphed into a fist at his side. “Find out how much money we have in there tonight.”

The room erupted into a buzz of activity, the noise making hard for Emma to concentrate on anything other than the masked figures moving around unhindered the best-guarded vault in Las Vegas.

The ice in Gold’s voice broke her from her thoughts. “Alright, dearie. You've broken into my vault. Congratulations, you're a dead man.”

“There’s no need for threats, Robert.”

Gold looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. “Here’s a non-threat for you: good luck trying to exit my vault - or my casino for that matter - unscathed. You’re trapped down there.”

“Mhmmm. Perhaps. Perhaps I’ll simply have you carry the money out of the vault for me. By now your records have told you that you have a little over 160 million in that vault, you know, with it being fight night and all. Now, take a closer look.”

Everyone in the room - Gold, Emma, Belle, the security personnel - leaned closer to the monitors. Next to the bags being packed sat a stack of money in the middle of the floor, carefully bound with a few packs resting on top

“Are you watching? That there is half of your money, being held hostage and booby-trapped.”

Gold closed his eyes and punched the console next to the video feed. Time seemed to stretch for an eternity, but it had to have been no more than a minute or two. When he opened his eyes, he stared directly at Emma. “Miss Swan, please escort Belle to her suite and keep her safe.”

“But Robert, I -” Belle started, but Gold waived his hand in dismissal.

“I need to deal with this, Belle.”

He turned his back on them without another word, completely focused on talking to his security people. Belle’s face crumpled for a second, the hint of a few tears coming to her eyes. Before Emma could reach out to offer support, she shook her head, turned around, and stormed out of the room. Emma hurried after her, trying to keep up with Belle’s furious steps.

“Belle, wait!” she called after her.

Without warning, Belle came to a halt and Emma almost ran into her. As she took a step back, she looked over Belle’s shoulder to see what had caused her to freeze in her tracks.

A familiar back dressed in white shirt.

A familiar head of black hair.

And a very familiar voice speaking over the phone.

“You let half of the money go, and you get to keep your eighty. That's the deal. You try to stop us, we'll blow everything up. You’ll lose it all.”

He slowly turned around, Emma was faced with a smirking Killian Jones giving both her and Belle a once over. Biting his lower lip, he tilted his head and spoke again. “Gold, you can choose to secretly lose eighty million dollars tonight or you can lose a hundred sixty million publicly. It's your decision. I’ll even give you five minutes to think about it, but at the end of that time, I’ll need to know... Do we have a deal?”

Putting the phone on mute, he lifted his chin towards them. “Hello, love. Did you miss me?”

/-/

“Killian how did you-?”

“Escape?” The bastard cut her off, a smug grin sliding across his face. “It cost me a few million, but nothing I can’t afford if this goes through. Which it will.”

The ass had the nerve to wink at her with that last one.

If Killian thought Gold would fold that easily, he was deluding himself. “Gold is not going to fall for this trick, Killian.” She wasn’t sure why she was saying anything at all, she should be calling Gold’s security and having Killian escorted to one of their holding rooms. Again.

She should. Gold had hired her. She worked for the man and needed this night to go smoothly so she could finally have the answers she’d been looking for.

As if reading her mind, Killian smug smile faded, his eyes filling with concern. “Gold was never going to help you. He’ll find a loophole in the deal and back out. Or he’ll find some way to string you along, promises of just one more job before he delivers on what he’s promised. Deep inside, you know it. You know I’m right.” He caressed her cheek, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into it and forget the world outside of them existed. He moved his arm, holding the phone back as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. “I have the answers you seek, Emma.”

His confession took the air from her lungs. He couldn’t know, could he? Emma searched his eyes looking for the lie, for any hint that his words were just an attempt to con her. But there was nothing but truth swimming in the blue of his eyes and the broken way he whispered fervently. “Come with me. Your career is in shambles. You know he was behind several bad deals gone wrong. You know none of his promises matter. Come with me, love."

She hesitated, her heart beating frantically against her chest, her thoughts racing through her head. She wanted two seconds, just two seconds to breathe and think this through.

Belle’s voice brought both of them back from their own little world. “Wait a minute…” She looked between the two of them. Realization dawned in her eyes. “This is her? She’s the one from Tuscany?” She swatted at Killian’s arm. “I can’t believe you, Killian Jones.”

Chuckling, he pulled away from Emma. “You can’t believe what? The lengths we would go to get the girl?” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Think again, Belle, and while you’re at it, think about where your husband might be right now.”

Belle stomped her foot on the floor. “That idiot!” Turning around, she quickly darted down the hallway with a stream of expletives flying from her mouth.

Emma started to go after her. “Belle…”

Killian, though, caught her arm and brought her back to him. “Let her go, Swan. This was not their first fight and it won’t be their last.” Bringing his attention back to the phone, he motioned for her to remain silent. “I’m glad we see eye to eye, Mr. Gold. This is how this is going to work. Ten minutes from now, the men in the vault are going to deposit six bags in the vault elevator. I’ll wait until you find someone to write this down.”

Cupping the phone again, his eyes searched hers. “Looks like Gold just bit the bait and I really need to get going. So I need to know: are you in or are you out, Swan?”

It was a decision she needed to make in a split second. Though, she wasn’t sure she really needed even that. She knew she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but crashing her lips to his, Emma decided to take a leap of faith. When she finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. “You better deliver, Jones.”

He smiled and reached out to seal his lips over hers one more time. “You know I will. Now wait for me. Pretend like you still care about the security of this place or something, and keep Belle safe. Please.”

Killian returned to giving directions over the phone while Emma turned and chased after Belle. She wasn’t sure that she’d made the right call, but it was too late to back out now.

#csbb #sea squad #lenfaz fics #cs ff #cs au

[winryofresembool]

Love Can Melt the Ice, ch. 19

Summary: Figure skating time! Part 2.

A/N: I’m not gonna say much this time. I just... really hope you guys will enjoy this one. It’s important. Thank you ♥

Previous chapters:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5.5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 pt 1, pt 2, 16, 17, 18

Next chapter: x

Companion pieces (note: these are all post Olympics happenings so reading the main fic first is recommended): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Words:4543 (yup. A monster)

Genre: hmmm.

Warnings: pls have your tooth brushes nearby.

Winry closed her eyes for a moment and peeked through the glass door again. Was she really seeing correctly? Ed? Talking with Mei Chang? Alone, without Al? What was he doing with her? There was no mistaking him, though; she could clearly see his long golden mane, the crutches in his hands and the cast in his left leg.

She knew they hadn’t seen her yet and tried to figure out how to get out of the arena without being noticed. If she just marched out there and asked what was going on, she would probably get to hear a bunch of lies, making the situation even worse. Still, she couldn’t stand behind the door either; people were coming in and out, and she’d get caught staring. She decided to use another exit on the other side of the arena, casting one last look towards the door before biting her lip and turning away.

Had Winry stayed 10 seconds longer, she would have seen Al joining Ed and Mei, giving Mei something as he arrived. Not long after, the group separated, Ed leaving towards the hotel, Al and Mei towards a restaurant. But she didn’t see any of that, so her mind was racing 120 km/hour as she took the longer route to another exit.

One, a small part of her was yelling extremely loud curses in her head, but the rational part of her tried to convince her that what she had just seen meant nothing. Maybe Ed had just been waiting to see her and accidentally bumped into Mei. Winry knew Mei well enough to know she was very familiar with hockey, so maybe she had recognized Ed and wanted to introduce herself. Besides, after the sweet, private moments in her room, would Ed really just ignore all that? That didn’t seem like something he would do.

Winry realized that if she was going to make this, what could be a beginning of a meaningful relationship, work, she had to trust him. And in the end, nothing about the meeting she had witnessed had suggested anything more than a friendly encounter. But still, where had Al been? And why had she smiled so widely at him? And why did all of this have to happen now that she was supposed to focus on her competition and they were going to leave to their home country in only a few days?

When Winry got back into her hotel room, she decided to do what best calmed down her mind; drawing blueprints for her next mechanical project. When she began drawing, she had no idea what she wanted to make, but soon the sketch started to become clearer; it resembled an arm. At first she thought she was unconsciously drawing the exact copy of Ed’s automail arm, but at closer inspection she realized it looked different. It looked more like the person whom she was imagining using it; a flame symbol decorated the top plate, reminding her of his fierce nature. Even though the material she wanted to use for this automail was lighter than the one he was now using, the layers it had made it stronger. She had to admit, she quite liked how it ended up looking.

Just when she was putting away her pencils and erasers, her phone started ringing.

“Granny! Hi! How are you doing?” Winry had been thinking about her grandmother quite a lot for the past few days, so hearing her familiar voice made her feel better.

“I’m doing just fine, dear. But I must say, I am slightly surprised you haven’t called me since the team event. I hope everything’s fine there, though, because it’s not like you to ignore your grandmother.”

“E-everything’s alright! I hope you saw my performance today. Only 0,10 points from the lead!”

“I saw it! You looked wonderful out there. But you don’t sound very convincing, I hope it really is alright.”

“It’s… a long story. Granny, I… like someone.”

“Really? Now that’s a surprise. I thought you are so into your sport you don’t have time for anything else.”

“Yeah… I kinda thought so too. So, do you remember Edward Elric from Resembool? Our ex neighbor?”

“Of course I do! You guys were always at it, fighting with each other all the time, but if someone dared to say a bad word about you, he was always there to defend you.” Pinako smiled at her memory. “Have you seen him there? Doesn’t he play hockey these days?”

“Yes, I have, and he does… You see… He’s kinda the person I like. And I think he likes me too.”

“Oh! Well, if he’s anything like his parents, I’m sure he’s a decent person.”

“He is… Only, today I saw him talking with my rival and… I don’t know what to think about it. I mean, it probably was nothing, but… I got jealous.”

“If he is in his right mind, he doesn’t even look at anyone else when he could have my granddaughter. Don’t worry, Winry. If that bothers you, why don’t you just ask him?”

“I already had one opportunity, but I chickened… And I can’t ask him now because I said we should keep some distance between us until my competition is over.”

“You have put yourself in quite a situation. But my advice is that just talk with him. That way you’ll know what exactly happened.”

“Right. Thanks, granny.”

“No problem.”

After saying her worries aloud, Winry realized how silly they must have sounded. After all, it wasn’t like Ed wasn’t allowed to talk with other girls. That’s why she decided to change the topic: “Hey, listen! I just drew some blueprints for an automail and I’d like you to take a look at it. I’ll send you a photo and you can then tell me your opinion on it!”

The grandmother and granddaughter spent the rest of the evening discussing Winry’s automail, Pinako giving Winry some advice and improvement suggestions and Winry doing the necessary changes. By the end of the evening, she was feeling like herself again, and was already imagining how Ed would react when she’d show him the blueprints.

 …

 “Next up, performing her free program, Winry Rockbell!”

Winry inhaled and exhaled deeply and shook her limbs to warm the muscles up before finally stepping on the ice. She had thought the previous performances would have calmed her nerves a bit, but as she was waiting for the music to start playing, she realized that this was every bit as hard as it had been earlier. Maybe even harder in a certain sense. The reason for that was sitting in the stands, or at least she assumed he did. For some reason, knowing that he was watching, made this performance more personal.

When Garfiel, who usually made Winry’s choreographies, had suggested her free program would have a romantic theme, Winry hadn’t liked the idea. Romantic love had always been a foreign area to her, and she had never even officially dated anyone even though the reason for that wasn’t the lack of interested people. It was the lack of interesting people. The few times she had been on dates, she had noticed the other person was on a totally different wave length from her, not caring about the same things she did, or asking her out simply because they had recognized her from TV. Sometimes she had wondered if there was something wrong with her, or if she was simply an a-sexual, but she hadn’t gotten answers to her questions until she arrived in the Olympic venue.

Was it love she was feeling towards Ed? Winry had always been one to think that real love didn’t strike anyone that fast, but when she had told Ed she was falling for him, she had meant it. She might not be quite there yet, but she was on her way. The thought of getting to spend more time with him and learn to know him even better excited her. On the other hand, she had felt jealous when she saw Ed with Mei, which was an emotion only familiar to her from her childhood when she had seen her classmates getting hugs and kisses from their parents, and she had only had her grandmother. She knew Ed could be a tough person to handle on his worst days, but somehow, she believed the good days would win them 100-0. If he gave her a chance…

Because of all this, she felt she understood the character she was acting in her performance a lot better now. Earlier, she had often gotten critique for performing the elements cleanly but lacking in the emotion department. The audience would see a robot doing what she was supposed to do, not having any emotional connection with the performance. Now, she wished that she could use her recent experiences to build a believable story that did move something in the audience’s hearts.

She quickly tested that her hair and the bright red dress with a lot of glitter on it (Garfiel’s idea) were where they were supposed to be and finally heard the first sounds of the romantic song starting to play, meaning it was go-time.

The first element in her free program was a triple Lutz – triple toe loop combination. She managed to land it cleanly, but was worried her body language was screaming she didn’t know what to do… If only she’d get the three first jump elements out of the way, then she could breathe a bit. The step sequences and spins had always been more of her thing.

Double Axel. Done! And she felt she would have had enough speed to keep on rotating but decided to not risk it this time. There would be a time and place for a surprise factor later on…

Then came the final jumps of the first half of her performance, a triple Salchow – triple toe loop combination. Unfortunately, Winry had gotten a bit too confident after the double Axel, and she slipped a bit between the jumps, having to cut the rotation short and making it only double toe loop. Not a big loss, considering she still hadn’t fallen or otherwise failed, but it still bummed her for a moment.

She didn’t have time to get stuck on that one slight slip, though, because she already needed to start focusing on the first spin. It was successful, and finally she managed to make herself smile a bit as she moved onto the step sequence. Even though step sequences had always been her favorite part of her programs, she found this particular one challenging because she was supposed to express the happiness of having met someone special. Now she understood that emotion better, though, and the audience oohed and aahed with excitement as they watched her move swiftly, the smile coming from her heart instead of being forced.

…

“How the hell did she do that?” Ed asked as Al and he were watching Winry performing a triple flip – double toe loop – double loop combination. To Ed even one jump was amazing, to perform 3 of them in a row was beyond his understanding.

“It’s called routine, brother, she has practiced that for years,” Al stated. It was really amusing to watch how into Ed could get into this sport he knew nothing about, all because of that young woman who was currently gliding on the ice. If he was honest, Ed was the last person he would have expected to see in such a situation, but it was a nice change, and he could see it was doing good to his brother.

Ed yelled proudly when he saw Winry perform another jump, triple Lutz this time, then turned to look at Al briefly:

“Do you think she has a chance of winning this?”

“It is going well, I don’t see why not. But the competition is tough.”

“Right.”

“Hold on a sec.” Al held his breath for a moment when Winry was in the air again. “That isn’t… yup, it is! Triple Axel!”

Ed didn’t really know what a triple Axel was, or how it differed from the other jumps (he made a mental note to learn more about it later), but it must have been something awesome because the entire audience around him was roaring with excitement.

“W-what?” he asked.

“Brother, you really should do some studying on figure skating… Only a few female skaters have managed to land it successfully in a competition. She did it in the team event here, but I believe that’s when she got hurt… But based on her reactions there were no issues this time! Now she REALLY has a chance of winning!”

Ed focused his attention on Winry’s facial expressions and noticed that she really did seem like a huge weight had fallen from her shoulders as she was performing a choreographic sequence. In fact, her expression looked a lot like the one he had only seen on her face when they had been alone in her room. But why would she…

“Uh, Al? What do you think this performance is about?” he asked suddenly.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s a love story, she meets someone and shows her love for that person.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

Ed felt a blush spreading on his face as he took Al’s words in. Suddenly focusing on the performance felt a bit harder. He did see her jump one last time (Al did say the jump’s name but he missed it) and do the spin combination that finished the routine, but his mind was elsewhere. He would have to tell her about his decision soon.

…

“Congratulations, dear, that was a fantastic performance! I am so proud of you! And that triple Axel? Only you would have had guts to do that again after what happened the last time! But the risk was worth it!”

“Thank you, Garfiel!” Winry said as she hugged her coach. “I felt… I needed to prove myself I could do it even though I would have probably done just fine even with a double Axel… “

“To me it looked like you also did a lot better job portraying the emotions of your character… Is there any specific reason for that?”

“Uhh… nothing you need to know right now… I’ll tell you some other time,” Winry answered awkwardly.

Winry barely had time to take a breath after pulling away from Garfiel when two new sets of arms surrounded her.

“If that isn’t a gold winning performance, I don’t know what is!” Paninya squeeled and Rosé agreed with her.

“Oh, come on, guys, you are not here to celebrate me, you are my rivals!” Winry scolded them. “Now, if you don’t go back to your preparations, I’m gonna kick your asses. And Garfiel, we need to go, they are gonna announce the points any minute now.”

They sat down on their seats, and sure enough, only a few moments later the announcer yelled:

“And Winry Rockbell’s points are… 150,15! Together with the short program, that makes 232,10 points! What an astounding performance! That is her personal best!”

“Wow…” was all Winry could say.

“Winry, my dear… I think a new champion has risen.” Garfiel said next to her.

…

Paninya and Rosé’s turn was soon after, and both succeeded well with their performances. Paninya got her personal best score and Rosé got her seasonal best as well. The two of them were already ready to celebrate Winry’s victory when it was Mei Chang’s turn, and they held their breaths (probably more nervous than Winry herself) as she performed. The audience reacted loudly to her elements and it was clear everything was going according to Mei’s plan.

A few minutes later, her points were announced: 148,5. Together with the short program, that wasn’t enough to top Winry. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, remembering what she had seen the day before. This also Winry really had a chance of winning the entire competition.

The last skater of the night, and Winry’s biggest challenger, was Lan Fan from Xing. She had gotten just slightly better points than Winry in the short program, but she was known to shine in her free programs, so despite Winry’s amazing points, nothing had been decided yet.

As expected, she performed her elements flawlessly, but her jumps were slightly easier than Winry’s, and at least in Garfiel’s opinion she seemed to lack the charm Winry had had on the ice. Winry watched the performance in the dressing room with the other girls, but when she met with Garfiel afterwards, she found him biting his fingernails nervously.

Winry wasn’t sure what she was feeling at that moment. The biggest part of her was relieved it was over; no matter what would happen, she already knew she had done her best and would go home with a medal. However, there was a reason why she was a professional athlete; she did have the competitive side in her, and that side tried to argue with the rational side that said she could be proud of herself, either way. A silver would be a disappointment after such a performance.

Winry’s heart was beating fast when Garfiel took her hand as the announcer started to speak.

“Lan Fan’s points are: 149,10! That means she wins the silver medal, winning her country woman Mei Chang by a point. Our Olympic gold medal winner is… Winry Rockbell from Amestris!!!”

…

“Ed, you gotta go!” Al tried to get him to leave the arena before the rest of the audience would.

“What, I want to congratulate her! Dammit, Al! This is the biggest moment of her career so far and you are telling me to leave?!”

“I mean, she’s gonna have a party, and you can’t go there looking like that! Brother, please!”

“Fine. But if you see her, you’ll tell her that I’ll see her soon, right?”

“Of course! Just go now.”

…

 She really was the Olympic champion. When the information sunk in, it seemed like her brain just turned off and she could remember only bits and pieces of what happened afterwards.

There were a lot of hugs. Garfiel, waiting for the points next to her, was obviously the first one to hug her. Rosé, Paninya and Gracia were all waiting for her by the rinkside, giving her quick, tight hugs before she had to go back to the ice to accept her reward. When she joined the other medalists on the ice, they hugged her too, and especially Mei seemed really enthusiastic and happy for her, making Winry a bit confused. Was there something going on she didn’t know about? In that moment, she only wished she could find the person she wanted to hug the most, but scanning the audience with her eyes, she couldn’t find him. One would have thought it would be easy to spot the two golden haired men in the audience, and she knew for fact they had promised to be there, but for some reason she couldn’t find them.

She accepted the flowers and the plush she was given (the actual medal would be given later that day in a special ceremony outside the arena) and after skating a few rounds and thanking the audience, she tried to get into the dressing room to change into something more comfortable. That turned out to be difficult though, with all the passing people wanting to congratulate her and get her first comments, and it took her at least 15 minutes to finally get into her destination.

“You haven’t possibly seen Ed and his brother anywhere?” Winry asked her figure skating team that was already starting the party in the dressing room, popping a bottle of champagne that someone had hidden into the locker.

“No, not a glimpse,” Paninya and Rose answered in unison. Winry started getting anxious. This was such a huge moment for her, and she really wanted all her favorite people to be around.

It took a while before she could leave anywhere because glasses needed to be emptied, speeches given and songs sung. Paninya even threatened to throw Winry into the cold shower like was the habit in the hockey world, but fortunately for Winry, she managed to talk her out of it. Eventually, she managed to sneak out with the excuse that she needed to go back into her hotel room because she had left her party dress there.

Before she would do that, though, she would find out where the hell Edward was. He hadn’t even answered her calls while the other girls had taken Garfiel into the cold shower instead of her. Briefly, she wondered if that meeting with Mei had something to do with this, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time for that.

When she got into the hotel hallway that Amestris’ athletes shared, she debated for a long while if she should go and change like she was supposed to, or if she should just march into Ed’s room and let him hear it if he happened to be there. She chose the latter.

“Edward Elric! If you are there, get your ass out right now!” she nearly yelled as she banged his door. She wasn’t actually expecting anyone to be there, so when she heard the sound of the crutches from inside the room, her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Hi?” Ed opened the door, revealing the black suit and a red tie he was wearing. Winry looked at his outfit with confusion.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She guessed it was too much to ask him to spend this important night with her.

“Aren’t you?” Ed took in the tiny red figure skating dress she was still wearing. Why did she have to look so good in it, he growled in his mind. “I’m not sure that dress is the most appropriate one for a formal party.”

“What are you talking about?” Winry felt she understood less and less about what was going on.

“That you and I are gonna go to your party, what else would I be talking about?”

“I thought… I thought…” Winry couldn’t form a full sentence. He had been thinking about her after all.

“What?” Ed asked, equally confused.

“That you had forgotten. Or didn’t want to go. Or had other plans…”

“And why would you think that?” Ed frowned. He didn’t understand why Winry was acting so weirdly all of a sudden.

“Because I didn’t see you at the arena! And you didn’t answer to my call! And I saw you hanging out with Mei Chang the other day!” she blurted without thinking.

“Again: what? Winry, there’s a good explanation to all of those things. I left the arena early because when it became clear you would win, Al forced me to come back here to clean up because apparently I couldn’t look like an emo at your party. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave. He also promised to let you know I would be waiting here. Which clearly he didn’t. And I didn’t hear your phone call because I was in the shower. And I definitely wasn’t with Mei because I wanted to, but because Al told me to wait with her while he was getting her some flowers or chocolate or who knows what unnecessary… They were gonna go out for a dinner, you see.”

“So… you’re saying all of that was just an unfortunate misunderstanding?”

“Yes, you silly.”

“Great. Of course I would ruin my own party by overthinking things.” Winry sat down on Ed’s bed and covered her face with her hand with embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be mad at yourself. You couldn’t have known.” Ed sat down next to Winry, setting his crutches down, and took her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted it, so she was staring right in his eyes.

“But I…” She couldn’t finish her sentence because she noticed the expression on Ed’s face, and it nearly made her knees go weak. She had seen that fierce, determined look a couple of times before, all of them right before they had almost…

Only this time there wasn’t “almost”. Ed hesitated only one moment, deciding this was a now or never situation, and with his free hand he pulled her closer. He moved the hand that had been holding her chin behind her neck, while he was wondering how she would react to what he was about to do. Winry didn’t have time to close her eyes before he pressed his lips against hers, a bit sloppily but firmly, soon finding the right angle to get best access to her lips. Winry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss when her brain finally registered what was happening. He really was kissing her.

All too fast, he pulled away, his heart pounding faster than in a hockey game and his cheeks adorably red. Winry thought she couldn’t have looked much calmer herself. She had imagined this situation so many times in her head, but now that it finally happened, she couldn’t nearly believe it. From that little preview she knew she wanted that to happen again. And last a lot longer.

Finally, her brain recovered enough to be able to form full sentences:

“Hold on. Ed, would you care to explain what this means? Didn’t you say the other day you had promised…”

“Shhh, just listen. I can’t… I can’t promise it’s always gonna be an easy road, but… I want to try.” Winry looked at him expectantly, so he continued: “You have made me see I don’t have to do this alone, and I really owe you a lot for that. You have made me feel happy even though normally I wouldn’t even be able to get out of my bed in this situation.” Winry knew he was referring to his broken leg and the tournament that had ended too early for him. “So that’s really amazing. You just seem to have that weird power. You know, you deserve to be happy, and I… I want to be someone who makes you happy. Equivalent exchange, right?”

“Ed!” she squealed and hugged him so forcefully he almost fell from the bed.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to give me a shot?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, you idiot!”

This time it was her turn to initiate the kiss. It was much longer than the first one, and Ed even allowed his hand to wander on the backside of Winry’s thin dress, feeling the smooth material and causing chills in Winry’s core.

“By the way… Congratulations,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

“For what?” Winry had nearly forgotten what had happened only a little while ago.

“For winning the Olympic gold, dummy. My girlfriend is world’s best figure skater!” Ed exclaimed proudly.

“Oh… thank you.” Winry blushed and pecked his lips once more.

“So… Will you get your dress changed?” Ed asked with much more confidence when they pulled apart.

“Yes… But if you think I’ll let you watch just because you’re my boyfriend now… well, I dare you to try.”

“You’re feisty. I like that.” Ed snorted and Winry threw a pillow at him.

Ed stayed nicely in his room while Winry went to change, but the whole time both of them had huge smiles on their faces. Somehow, Winry had a feeling she had just won something far more valuable than an Olympic gold.

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fullmetal alchemist #ice skating au #lcmti #aa i'm so excite #i have wanted to write this a loong time #pls review pls

[lutzofviktuuri]

so on my wrist, so on my soul

A Viktuuri soulmates au. Currently unfinished. Planned happy ending because that’s what Viktuuri is for. I’m not guaranteeing it ever being done. If it ever is, I’ll probably throw it onto AO3, but until then, it’s here. Rating: ....we’ll play this one by ear. M, I guess for now Chapter WC: 2,087 Current Story WC: 7,186 Chapter: One Summary: Viktor Nikiforov has known since he was sixteen years old that he was fated to be a champion. Now, at twenty-eight, the fate grates--what has he earned, and what is merely destined? He wishes, perhaps more than anything, that his fate had been a name and not a destiny. Katsuki Yuuri, on the other hand, has known he had a soulmate since he was sixteen years old, and some days, he would give anything, anything at all, for Fate to take it back.

Simple

On Yuuri’s first day of class at the University of Michigan he was still so jetlagged that he had, quite unlike himself, completely forgotten to cover up his fate mark, and as he leaned on his hand in class, half asleep, the slightly over-exuberant girl who sat next to him had sighed in clear longing, “Oh, you have a name! I’m so jealous. How simple that must make things.” It was fortunate that Yuuri was so sleep deprived that he did not process her words until well after the class had ended, or he might have, in his exhausted and stressed state, simply burst into tears. Simple. The words echoed in his head even now, four years later, as he skated in a loud and crowded arena. Fate marks were rarely simple. Of course, that was how the movies usually portrayed fate marks; an image, or a single word, or a name, or all three, pointing clearly to a path, to a destiny. The hero with courage written across his wrist becomes a fireman, the leading lady with justice written on hers serves on the US Supreme Court, the man with a full name written across his wrist puts together a social media campaign to find his match  and inevitably does, with a happily-ever-after ending. There was never really any uncertainty. There was never any struggle. They all walked clearly towards their fates, and they were, in the films, almost always happy ones. They never mentioned the unpleasant fate marks, the ones which read sacrifice, longing, despair. For those whose fate mark was or included name, they never mentioned the ones whose names were not soulmates, as usually thought, but fated enemies. They never mentioned those whose names were platonic, life-long friends. And they certainly never mentioned those unlucky few who wore a name that the other did not even share. A fate mark was destiny and could not be avoided or denied—but Fate was not always kind. Simple. His fate mark was anything but simple.

Yuuri took a deep breath as he gained speed with a few backwards crossovers. Warm-up was almost over, and he wanted to get in at least one more quad toe before he left the ice. He brought himself into position, getting ready to jump and reach back with his toe pick, setting off the spin, when he heard gasps and cheers from the audience nearer to the other side of the rink. He tried not to let the flash of silver distract him as he watched his idol glide out from a landing of what was probably his signature quad flip. He jumped, reached back with his toe pick, and spun—but as he was coming down he could feel it. His axis was off, he wasn’t going to land perfectly—he tried to save it, to only touch down with a hand, but he fell, and the crowd gasped for a completely different reason. Yuuri winced, pain radiating up his arm and throbbing on his left hip. He got up quickly, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. There was no way the judges had missed him biting the ice so badly. They would scrutinize him more closely in his short program now, he knew, watching more carefully for under rotations in his jumps, or unclear edges on his flip and lutz. He wiped ice shavings off his pant leg just as the announcer called for the skaters to leave the ice. Yuuri cursed internally, his gut twisting with anxiety. Why did that fall have to be his last element on the warm-up? All the skaters save Michele Crispino, the first competitor, made for the exit. Off the ice, Yuuri knew several of them were quite friendly, even friends. But as they stepped off the ice one by one, carefully wiping snow from blades and applying their skate guards, not a one of them looked at the others. They were all in the zone as Phichit was fond of saying. Yuuri, as he glided to the exit and t-stopped before stepping off the ice, followed the examples of the others, avoiding all eye contact. He spared only a brief glance towards a head of silver hair—but he looked away quickly. “Yuuri,” Celestino’s exasperated voice reached him as his blades hit the rubber mat. Ciao Ciao handed him his black and blue skate guards. His coach’s own fate mark was clearly visible: luce guida. Not a name, but a true fate. Yuuri busied himself with putting on his guards, looking down and avoiding his coach’s gaze. They walked together towards one side of the rink when Yuuri finished, headed back to the rink’s small gym so that Yuuri could jump rope until his turn—second to last—on the ice. Celestino walked closely to Yuuri, hiding his face and mouth from the cameras as much as possible. “You knew that was going to end badly before you took off. You didn’t properly set it up. Why did you jump anyway?” Yuuri’s gut twisted and clenched further. Celestino wasn’t scolding him, not really. He just wanted to know what was going through Yuuri’s head, Yuuri knew that. But part of Yuuri felt a barb at the end of the words anyway. You should have known better. Of course you couldn’t make that jump, what were you thinking? “I got distracted,” Yuuri replied honestly, wincing at his own words and rubbing his left wrist over his glove. He was like some lovesick schoolgirl staring after him that way— “Yuuri, I know that this is your first Grand Prix Final, but you cannot let it get to you. You have been pulling great scores all season. If you skate the way that you have been, you can easily end up on the podium—but not if you let the stress affect you, capisci?” Ciao ciao said. Yuuri blinked. Oh. He hadn’t even considered the stress of the actual competition yet, his first Grand Prix Final, but now that Celestino mentioned it… He felt his whole body tense and go rigid. Celestino frowned slightly. “Yuuri,” Celestino said. “I need to jump rope,” Yuuri said quickly. “Come get me just before my time, please?” Celestino’s jaw set, clearly holding back from saying things that he wanted to say. Instead he just nodded, and Yuuri rushed out of the arena and down a little, empty hallway. The gym was at the end of it, and when he pushed open the door he found that three of his fellow competitors were already inside—Christophe Giacometti, who was stretching somehow lewdly on the floor, JJ Leroy who was lifting weights in a corner with his headphones on, and— Yuuri avoided looking at the last too long. He didn’t want to be rude. Averting his gaze from any of his competitors at all, he honed in on his duffel bag, still where he left it in the corner of the room. He fished out his jump rope and his iPhone, shoving in his earbuds to drown everything out while he jumped. He closed his eyes, concentrating on keeping his mind as empty as possible. It was working well too, which was why he startled when he felt someone touch his ear and one of the buds was removed. His eyes flew open, and there stood Chris, grinning at him, Yuuri’s earbud held close to his own ear. “Are you listening to Ska?” he asked. “Chris,” Yuuri protested. Yuuri had known Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland since they were competing together in Juniors, and the man had always lacked a sense of personal space. “This sounds like ska to me,” Chris said, delighted. “It—I—” Yuuri looked down at his phone, strapped to his arm. He’d just been letting Spotify play whatever it wanted, and, sure enough, it was on some 80s J-ska band. “Oh.” “Yuuri, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you were a ska kind of person,” Chris teased him. Then he grinned, suggestively. “It’s always the quiet ones.” Then suddenly, Yuuri felt a hand on the base of his spine that slid quickly lower. He yelped and moved away. “Chris,” Yuuri protested, his face heating. He was familiar with Chris’ antics, but he didn’t think he would ever be quite used to them. “Chris,” spoke a quiet, delicately accented voice that Yuuri would recognize anywhere. “Can’t you at least wait until after the competition to sexually harass your competitors?” Yuuri tried not to stare directly in the direction of the silver haired skater who spoke. Yuuri looked just off to the side; staring directly at him was something Yuuri likened to staring directly at the sun. Chris just laughed. He backed away, but tossed the other skater an easy grin. “What fun would that be?” Chris replied. He winked at Yuuri. Yuuri just sighed and shook his head. Then suddenly the walls around them seemed to vibrate with the force of a cheer going up in the arena. Michele must have finished his skate. “Ah, that’s my queue. I’ll be on deck. See you on the ice, boys.” With a shrug and an easy wave, Chris exited the gym. Yuuri nearly sighed in relief. Dealing with Chris was fine, usually—but not before a skate. “My apologies for Chris,” spoke that soft voice again, and Yuuri went rigid. Was he actually talking to him? Yuuri whirled, and the other skater was watching him, a small, carefully constructed smile on his lips. “We have been friends for many years—he has always been that way, with everyone. He doesn’t mean any harm.” Yuuri tilted his head, for a moment uncomprehending. Then, he realized, with a little rush of embarrassment, that the other skater clearly didn’t know who he was—or, at least, anything about him. Well, why would he? Yuuri thought, with only a tiny touch of bitterness and a much larger touch of dismay and longing. You’ve never been anywhere close to being a threat or an equal. “Ah—well—I know. I’ve known Chris since we were in Juniors. But—ah—thank you? Anyway?” Yuuri spoke, and then cringed internally at the uncertainty of his tone as his heart beat faster than it had any right to do. The silver-haired skater just smiled a little more. It was a polite smile, though. A smile Yuuri recognized from his many press conferences and fan interactions. It did not reach his eyes. “Of course,” he said with a nod. The other skater then went back to stretching, and Yuuri averted his gaze, their sole interaction clearly finished. Adrenaline rushed through Yuuri’s body, and his hand shook as he replaced his earbud in his ear. He’d actually spoken to him. He’d actually spoken to him. And of course Yuuri had managed to make a complete fool of himself. Just like you’re going to make a fool of yourself on the ice if you can’t get yourself together. Yuuri returned to his aggressive jumping rope, doggedly losing himself in an unforgiving rhythm. The next time he opened his eyes, JJ was gone. He stopped jumping rope, suddenly panicked. How long had he been down here? Was he on deck yet? Surely Celestino would have come to get him if it was close to his time to skate? He yanked out his earbuds, shoving his iPhone back in his duffel and making for the door. “Katsuki,” the soft voice spoke, and Yuuri froze, his hand poised just on the door. He turned his head and knew that his eyes had to be wide; he couldn’t help it. “Ganbatte ne.” “Doomo arigato gozaimashita,” Yuuri replied automatically. He speaks Japanese? Yuuri felt like his brain had perhaps short circuited. He stood there for a moment, this time actually staring at the silver-haired skater, the man he had admired for nearly half his life. The man whose name was written across his wrist. Виктор Никифоров—Viktor Nikiforov. “Ah—davai.” He could not avoid, for a split second, glancing down at the other skater’s bare left wrist, even knowing what he’d find there before he looked—nothing. Yuuri gave the other man his own polite smile and, with that, went out the doors of the gym. There was no need to linger. No good could come of talking to an unrequited soulmate. Yuuri rubbed his glove-covered wrist as he entered the arena, assaulted once again by the cold and the noise. Simple. Staying away kept things simple.

Next >

#yoi #viktuuri #yuri!!! on ice #yuuri katsuki #hope somebody has as much fun reading this as I did writing it

[hockeyfanficblog]

I’ll see you soon

Requested? Yes  Hello, I was wondering if you could do Auston Matthews and where some guy starts to fight the reader at a hockey game and Auston tries to step in?

AN: There some cursing and mentions of alcohol. 

This was the first maple leafs you had ever been to. You lived in New York so when the Leafs visited you made sure to make it to the game. You had been given season tickets and the seats were really good. You were right by the Leafs bench. You sat down and watched them do their warm ups. As you were looking at different players your eyes connect with someone else’s. It was Auston Matthews. He quickly looked away and seemed a little embarrassed to be caught staring.

The game started out great. But by the time the 2nd period was coming to a close the Maple Leafs tied it at 2. It was a Matthews goal. You stood up and cheered along with a few other people. You were booed by some people but you didn’t care.

“I don’t even think he’s that good.” You heard the drunk man sitting next to you slur. He looked up at you. “Why don’t you go back to Cananda, girl?” you rolled your eyes. You weren’t even born there, you just liked the team. Matthews and his teammates were celebrating in front of you. As he went to high five his teammates he looked at you and smiled. You could feel your cheeks start to get red hot and had to look away. As the second period close you had to run to the bathroom and try to calm yourself down. Auston Matthews smiled at me! You thought.

“That’s the thing about these chicks.” The drunk guy who was sitting next to you motioned to you as you were sitting back down. “They don’t know decent teams when they seem them. She probably only likes this team ‘cause she thinks the players are hot.” He waved his hands around as he talked to his friend who was laughing, you just rolled your eyes. “What? Am I wrong?” he said to you.

“I just happen to like this team.” You said simply, not wanting to start anything. But the smell of alcohol on this guy was getting on your last nerve. The teams were starting to come out of the locker rooms.

“Yeah yeah, you’re probably just some groupie.” He pointed at you with the same hand that held his beer and it spilled all over your lap. You stood up quickly and pushed off all the ice that was on you. The guy and his friend were just laughing at you.

“Are you serious??” you yelled at him.

“Aw looks like you’re not gonna get to go home with one of the players now.”

“Asshole.” You said.

“Listen bitch.” He stood up.

“HEY get away from her!” you heard somebody yell. You turned around to face the hallway were the players come out. It was Matthews. He looked pissed.

“Yeah what’re you gonna do boy?” the drunk man yelled as he pushed you out of the way. Auston tried to get in the stands after he seen that but the guard stopped him. He was yelling at the drunk guy. He was actually standing up for you. You remembered that you were drenched in beer and ran to the bathroom again to try and clean yourself up. You were embarrassed that Matthews had seen you looking like such a mess. But you were also in shock that he was about to beat that guy up for you. As you were heading back to your seat a guard stopped you.

“Ma’am can you come with me?” He asked. Oh no were you getting in trouble for what the guy did? Or for Matthews standing up for you? Were you getting kicked from the game?

“He started it!” was all you could say. The guard smiled.

“No ma’am it’s nothing bad, just come with me.” He motioned, you walked with him. “Mr. Matthews said he didn’t feel like you were safe so he asked us to bring you up to one of the V.I.P. boxes at his expense.”

“Oh.” You said. Matthews paid for a V.I.P. box for you? He didn’t feel like you were safe. You replayed that in your head.

“You’ll also need this.” He handed you something. “It’s a pass. You’ll need it to get to the locker rooms.”

“Locker rooms?” you asked.

“Oh yeah, he said he would like to speak with you after the game if you wouldn’t mind.” He said. He wants to talk to me??

“Thank you.” You said, and the guard nodded and left. You scanned the room. It looked very expensive. 

You looked out the window and had a perfect view of the whole arena. You were still in complete shock at everything that had just unfolded in the last 20 minutes. Your favorite hockey player just bought out a V.I.P. box for you and now he wants to talk to you. This is not how you imagined the night to go but hey, who were you to complain. You smiled and got a plate of dessert and sat down to watch the remainder of the game.

As the leafs scored in OT you stood up to cheer. Rangers fans quickly exited the arena and you made your way down to the locker rooms showing your pass to the guards who gave you a quick nod and led you to the way.

“Just wait here he should be out shortly.” You nodded your head. There weren’t many people in the hallway considering this was the visiting locker room, they were a few Leafs fans.

“You still trying to shoot your chance with one of the guys??” you heard that same disgusting voice.

“I’m not talking to you.” You turned your back to him.

“Whatever all you puck bunnies are the same.” He shook his head.

“Fuck you.” You said back, you weren’t going to let some drunk talk to you like that.

“What did you just say to me?” he got closer to you and you started to feel a little scared.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave her alone?” Matthews said from behind you.

“You’re not gonna do shit.” He approached Auston but Matthews was clearly a lot bigger than him. He got the attention of the guards.

“Can you escort this man out? He’s had too much to drink and he’s harassing my girl here.” Matthews said. MY GIRL?! The guards led him out. “Are you alright?” he asked you.

“Uhm yeah.” You were a little star struck. “He kind of scared me though.”

“He’s just a drunk and he’s mad his team lost.” You both laughed. “But I was watching you and seen he was causing problems for you.”

“You were watching me?” you asked. He got a little flushed.

“Well… yeah. Uhm.” Now he was the one who was nervous. You couldn’t help but smile a little. “I mean I seen you when we went out to do warm ups and I thought you were... uhm, very beautiful.” He said has hand behind his neck, trying to think of the right words to say. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, and thank you.” You laughed.

“Y/N” He repeated.

Just then another player came out of the locker room, it was Marner, he spotted Auston and came up to him.

“Hey Mats did you ask her yet?” he said.

“Uhm no.” Auston said. “Shut up, I will.”

“He hasn’t stopped talking about you since warm ups.” Mitch said smiling, but that quickly faded when Auston elbowed him. “Ow! What was that for?” Auston gave him a look and Marner threw his hands up in defeat. “Whatever! Just tell us when you finally ask her.”

“Finally ask who what?” you asked as Mitch walked back.

“You.” He said looking at the ground, overall just nervous.

“Ask me what?”

“Uhm… I don’t know.” He said. “Do you want to maybe go out sometime?”

“Okay.” You said trying to keep your composure. He looked at you.

“Really?” he acted surprised.

“Yeah!” you said.

“I thought you were gonna say no.” he said. “Can I have your number?” you nodded and took his phone from his huge hands and typed in your number and handed it back to him. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” You smiled.

“Aw Mats finally did it guys!” Marner said. Matthews turned around and you could see about five or six Leafs players watching you guys.

“Finally! He’s only been talking about her from like 2 hours.” Another one said.

“Shut up!” Auston said, you laughed. “Ignore them. I’ll seen you soon, Y/N. Okay?”

“Yeah I can’t wait.” You said, “Bye Auston.”

“See you.” He turned to head back into the locker room where more heckling would take place from his teammates.

#auston matthews imagines #Toronto Maple Leafs #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

[fancymuffinparty]

Are you taking requests ? If you are can I ask for a Porco x Pieck Ice skating au ?? Pieck is a figure skater and Porco a hockey player and they both have a crush on the other

*disclaimer*: I’m always a tad hesitant with requests because I’m afraid of being a huge let down lol but this prompt was too cute to turn down and I’m a ho for Porco and Pieck so here goes!

Technically,it was after hours at the local skating rink; closed to the public for generalmaintenance. Half of the lights had already been shut off and the only staffmember present was the janitor, Zeke, preparing to work on menial custodialduties.

This wasalways Pieck’s favorite time to come to the rink; work on her routine and get alittle extra practice in for upcoming competitions. During the day, she’d meetwith her coach for the usual training, and then indulge in some freestyleskating afterward to ease her mind from all the intense excursions. She wasonly permitted to do so for a short while until the hockey team would show upfor practice and shoo her off the rink.

It never fazed her, given that she’d return later on in the evening anyway. She’d doneso for the past two years, managing to get Zeke to aid and abet in her habituallate-night rendezvous.

He welcomedPieck with an all-knowing smile, as well as a heads up of sorts.

“You havecompany tonight,” he informed her.

Pieck heard faintnoises that resembled skates gliding along the ice, and when she looked outtowards the rink she saw a familiar blond hockey player maneuvering about,brandishing a rigid hockey stick. A single goalpost was positioned on one end,to which he repeatedly aimed every premeditated shot at, several pucks at hisdisposal.

Pieckapproached the metal railing enclosing the arena and announced her arrival witha polite greeting.

“Hey,Porco,” she called out, waving. When he stopped to look at her she quicklyadded, “Share the ice?”

Porco noddedin approval and returned to his shooting, albeit somewhat distracted. Pieckchanged into her skates and hurried onto the ice, resigning herself to one halfof the rink while Porco secluded himself to his own. He practiced carrying thepuck with cultivated tactics before hurling it toward the goalpost. She glidedalong her half of their shared space at various speeds, warming up her muscles.

Every nowand then Porco would cast a cursory glance her way, watching as she whirled aboutin mesmerizing patterns. He tried to regain focus whenever he caught himselfstaring for too long, but to no avail. His shots were becoming sloppy and helost control over the puck’s direction, all because he couldn’t tear his eyesaway from her.

Pieck wasgaining speed, preparing to rehearse a key move for one of her routines. Aftersome measurable consideration, she lifted herself into the air and successfullyperformed an axel jump, landing with ease.

Porco’s jawdropped, looking slightly aghast. Once again, he lost focus and this time hepaid for it. At the last second he realized he was heading straight for one ofthe goalposts and crashed into the erected frame of the net, tumbling facefirst onto the ice. The disaster was certainly loud enough for Pieck to take notice.

Shit, Porco thought. That’s definitely gonna leave a bruise.

The worst ofit was his damaged ego, really.

Chuckling toherself, Pieck sped over to the site of the incident. “Are you all right?” sheasked, offering to help him up.

Porcograbbed hold of her hand and slowly arose, catching his balance. A faint pink hueappeared on his cheeks, meeting her gaze. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m good. Justzoned out there for a sec.”

“I see,”Pieck teased, her tone playful. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to distract you with myskating.”

Porco rolledhis eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny.” Truth was, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Well I’lllet ya get back to it,” Pieck chirped, slowly gliding away. Before she couldreturn to her side of the rink, however, Porco caved into his curiosity.

“What wasthat move you did back there?” The oneyou did before I fell on my ass.

Pieck tiltedher head. “You mean the axel jump?”

Porco nodded,his visage strangely tentative. “That was… pretty cool.” He began rubbing theback of his neck nervously.

A perky grinslowly played on Pieck’s lips. “Want me to teach you?”

Porcohuffed. “No thanks. I’m not too keen on breaking bones and falling flat on myface.”

Pieck letout a laugh, intent on setting his anxiety at ease and cheering him up. “It’snot all that difficult,” she quipped. “Just takes some concentration andbalance. You hockey players are capable of such, right?”

Porcoquirked a brow, narrowing his eyes. “Questioning my skills?” Two can play atthis game.

“Were younot on the ground five seconds ago?” Pieck sassed back, smirking.

“I see howit is,” Porco muttered, giving way to a mischievous half-smile. “You wouldn’thappen to be up for a little challenge, would you?”

Pieck didn’tleave him in suspense for too long. “Try me.”

With herconsent, Porco grabbed an extra hockey stick and handed it over, allowing Pieckto familiarize herself with wielding the elongated object. After he took holdof his own stick, he passed her the puck and positioned himself in front of thegoal, as though guarding it.

“If you canget past me and shoot the puck into the goal, I’ll buy you whatever you want atthe snack bar tomorrow after you’re done training.” Porco’s words were likemusic to her ears.

“And if Ifail?” Pieck asked, tightening her grasp on the hockey stick.

“Then snacksare on you,” Porco replied, simply reversing the stipulations.

“Deal.”Pieck quickly got into position and waited to make her move. Without warning,she dashed forward, carrying the puck back and forth to a steady tempo. The balancingaspect of it was much different than what she was used to. Juggling an objectwhile maintaining her own composure proved to be a strenuous endeavor. She wasaccustomed to having free reign of her arms.

Before Pieckcould get a clear shot, Porco skated right past her, stealing the puck in aflash. On his face was a cocky smirk, suggesting that his bruised ego had atleast somewhat healed.

“Try again,princess,” he mocked, passing her the puck once more as he assumed his guardingposition.

Pieck wastedno time setting up an attack, aiming for the goal with feverish resolve. Porcoweakly tried to steal from her, ultimately allowing for her to maneuver aroundhim and shoot with ease. She fired the puck into the net, earning a round ofapplause from her opponent.

“Wellplayed,” Porco commended her, clapping a few beats.

Pieckcircled around him once and then stopped to face him, an unimpressed expressionon her face. “You totally let me score. It doesn’t count.”

“Pieck, Ican’t go as hard on you as I do with my teammates,” he told her casually.“You’d get injured.”

“Humor me,”Pieck jested, readying herself for another go.

“You askedfor it.”

Porcoreturned to the goalpost, but when Pieck raced his direction he merely tossedhis hockey stick aside and grabbed her by the waist, easily lifting her overhis shoulder.

Pieck yelpedin surprise, dropping her hockey stick to the ground. “Porco!”

“You told menot to go easy on you,” Porco huffed in amusement, skating at a snail’s pace.

“There’s noway this is regulation,” Pieck exhaled, accepting defeat.

“You’reright,” Porco chuckled. “Most of my opponents would be knocked down andbleeding by now.”

“So I’m anexception?” Pieck asked, sarcastic. “It must be because you like me.”

Porco wasgrateful he hadn’t released her yet, or else she would have bore witness to theglorious sight of his blazing red face. He feigned a cough and dismissed hercomment with his own sarcastic remark.

“I justgotta put you in your place, ice princess,” he said, gently easing her back downonto her feet.

Even whenshe’d been set down, she kept her arms around his shoulders, eyes glued to his.

After a fewbeats of silence, she failed to keep a straight face and burst out laughing.

“What?”Porco asked, slightly embarrassed.

“Nothing…it’s just…” Pieck had trouble articulating a firm response, waiting on herlaughter to subside. “You’re usually so serious. You always have this intenselook on your face when you’re training with your team. But it turns out you’re actuallykind of…”

Porco waitedapprehensively for her to finish. Kind of what?Weird? Dorky? A chump?

“Sweet,”Pieck finally whispered.

The heatedblush was back again, and Porco couldn’t hide it this time.

He was aboutto say something to diffuse his flustered state when they were suddenlyinterrupted.

“Hey, kids,”Zeke announced from behind the rink. “I gotta lock it up for the night.”

“Okay,”Pieck called back, then promptly turned to address Porco. “Seems the fun’sover.”

Porcofrowned at that. “I’ll, um, see you later?”

Pieck nodded,beaming. “Of course!”

With that,she skated away, nearing the rink’s exit. Porco moved to gather his belongings,but strained to say one last thing. He came up with something faster than he’dexpected.

“Meet me atthe snack bar when you’re done training tomorrow,” he called after her, hisattempt at a reminder. “I gotta hold up my end of the deal.”

Pieck gavehim a heartfelt smile. “All right,” she agreed. “Goodnight, Porco!”

Porcobreathed a sigh of relief after she’d gone, his heart pounding wildly againsthis chest.

Was this thekind of ache you felt for someone you’d been crushing on for ages?

Because ifso… fuck!

#mywriting #pokopiku #porco galliard #pieck #gallipieck #hope you like it nonnie! :) #and thanks for le prompt! #the formatting looks funky on my laptop but on mobile its fine lol #ill fix it later

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks -19

  Part 18  Masterlist

word count: 3543

minor swearing

 My own scent is quite ripe in comparison to my fading air fresher by the time I finally get into my car and the only thing in the air now being the mix of antiseptic and sweat - The sweat only being partially mine from handling all the gross men and hugs of celebration. It's a foul odor to a nose not accustomed to such treatment, having to spend a large quantity of my life in sports arenas watching my brothers lacrosse my senses are acclimatized.

A sense of nostalgia flooded my brain with memories of weekends spent hanging around arenas watching my brother play lacrosse or hockey- sitting away from my dad because he had a bad habit of yelling louder than the coach. My moms look of disapproval when I would come home smelling like an equipment bag from carrying my brother's things simply because I could.

My warm fuzzy moment lasted until my heart clenched at the other memories associated with the previous ones but weren't that of good times of love but of hate. My mother's disapproval didn't end at simple looks or glares, she had a burning hatred for my father and she would always make sure I knew it. She was a cold lady in contrast to my warm as the sun father. I could never fathom how they ever got together but the story is something to do with my Nonna's playing matchmaker.

Gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles turn white in an attempt to gain some stability over my rampageous memories that are usually repressed to the extent they don't even exist anymore. A couple of deep breaths reminded of my need to go home and shower but first I need a fatty burger and fries.

My phone buzzed on the passenger seat beside my over sized bag of McDonalds as I pulled into the underground of my building.

Steph: MAde iit HOOME, LOVE YOUUU

wait das for MITCHHHHHY but love u toooooo

sent 11:01pm

Chuckling at the drunk messages I grab a hand full of salty goodness shoving it in my mouth, arranging the McDonalds bag and drink to sit on the roof before grabbing my purse and work bag from the trunk. The hat I was wearing all night sitting on top of my bag made me stop and laugh.

The navy blue hat had the simple Leafs logo in the same shade making rather difficult to make out but the design that sticks out the most to me- would be '34' in silver on the right-hand side above the brim.

"Nice hat," Now makes sense.

Groaning I flick the offending object deep into my trunk grabbing my bag, slinging it and my purse over my shoulder. Grabbing the McDonalds bag with more force than needed I am off towards the elevator in my delayed embarrassed state- grumbling and mumbling curses.

The apartment is silent and dark when i enter still feeling the effects of embarrassment on my cheeks. Kicking off my black runners somewhere near where there are suppose to be, silently making my way up the stairs where the sounds of Steph shower running makes my ears twitch.

"So she's not too drunk," I sigh a bit relieved.

I drop off a box off 10 nuggets on Steph's bed with some sweet n sour sauce the shower still on in the bathroom across the hall, steam, and light leaking through the bottom of the door. The familiar scent of Stephanie's Lavender products hits my nose as I pass on the way to my room.

Laying in bed, my thoughts wandering into my past which brings a feeling that is anything but nostalgic, deep seeded sadness aches in my chest pulling memories of my mom into the forefront of my brain that I do not wish to recall, Staring up a at my ceiling for a moment longer I turn onto my right grabbing my phone off the adjacent table as still charges. I adjusted myself to sit against my head board so I don't unplug my phone.

12:00 am

Scrolling through snap chat stories the sensation of the win re inhabits my chest replacing the dull ache caused thinking too deep, viewing some the guys snaps and Steph's watching the game. Wide smiles take up a majority of the videos and photos. Mitch has a video with his mom dancing in the kitchen with his dad, William has many videos from the celebration in the locker room.

Checking my personal snaps-which a normal person would have done first- I have some from Steph and Sydney all of the game from the WAGS box or their wine glasses captioned STRESSED. Snaps from Will making fun Mitch or just dumb face.

The last one being from Auston. It's a photo of me with that damn hat blocking my face as I massaged out a cramp on someone's leg, The 34 was visible from whatever vantage point he had. The caption 'Always Knew I was your favorite' with a simple smiley face.

Taking a picture of a close-up eye roll 'Haha' sent at 12:14am . Locking my phone and resituating to be on my back again staring at my ceiling, this time a foreign feeling is occupying my chest cavity.

I didn't Mind it.

Am34 opened 12:15am

The next day the routine went the same as any other game but with a better attitude now that the Leafs officially clinched their spot in the playoffs. It was decided before the game that regardless what the outcome was there was going to be celebrations tonight because they couldn't last night.

I had no choice on whether I was going or not. Steph has decided for me and had put a case of red bull into my car and had insisted that I take a nap between the morning skate and the game. As I was asleep she packed me a change of clothes, shoes, and makeup that she would bring with her to Sydney where we would be getting ready with a couple other girls.

"Make sure you drink water and eat this so you'll last tonight. I will meet you in the family area after the game and don't you worry about the rest," Steph said ominously on my way out of the apartment shoving a bag from the Italian bistro café downstairs into my hands. The scent of a pasta entrancing my nose.

"CARBS! LOTS OF CARBS!" She continued to yell at me even as I was getting into the elevator. She sent follow up messages of excitement and further instructions to bring one energy drink in with me to drink as soon as the game ends.

This girl meant business when it came to partying.

There was some importance to the game that remained to be played if they won they would be facing Ottawa in the first round but if they lost it would be Washington. There was more tension right before the game when everyone was dressed than the morning during the skate.

This time I brought my own plain navy blue hat that was completely unmarked, it covered my still sore nose much better than the other one anyways- reminded me the fact I would need a thick layer of both foundations and conceal finished with a lot of powder and concrete setting spray.

The first period was uneventful but the home team was out shooting the visitors going into the second when James got the first 2 minutes into the period than the second 4 minutes after. They held the lead for 10 minutes until Columbus started to light it up much to the chagrin of the Leafs.

The blue jackets were winning 3-2 going into the third and it, unfortunately, stayed that way until the final buzzer where there was some useless roughing around the opposition goalies net before the players cleared the ice with disappointment still on their faces because even though they have their playoff spot they still lost.

Babs still tore them a new before a complete 180 about getting ready for what's to come in the playoffs, media come in like a wildfire and much to Auston's obvious dismay he couldn't escape them. The playoffs now in the near future the media was doubled and more demanding for answers the Media team standing near ready to shut the media down if they asked too much.

As soon as the media was ushered out of the room the guys that were being kept hostage by cameras and microphones flew into the showers to get out of the build. I was massaging out cramps sending players to at least 10 minutes in the hot tub. When I was down my duties and was about to help the physio I was grabbed by the shoulder and pushed into the staff area and instructed to get my stuff together by half dressed Mitch with a smirk- clearly under his girlfriend's instructions.

Exiting the dressing room through the side door and into the family area Steph stood waiting with an evil glint in her eyes with Sydney who was grinning wide an equally evil look.

"Let's get fucked up," The blondes cheered with toned down excitement due to the presence of surrounding people.

"Hope you drank that Red Bull," Stephanie teased as I lead them to the employee parking, having to flash my ID badge to open the door the elevator door and descended to my level. Stephanie was wiggling her ass around and Sydney was shimmering her shoulder to the beat of their own drums.

"You shaved your legs right?"

"and your lady bits" Sydney started and Steph finished cracking each other up, igniting a flame to my cheeks. Ushering the girls out of the elevator and towards the car with a scolding glare both giggling. Sydney calls shotgun but Steph calls AUX. Tossing my crap into the trunk the blondes get situated in the car, as soon as my butt hits the seat a can of energy drink is being pushed to my mouth.

Smartly, Sydney programs her address into my GPS so she doesn't have to yell the direction of the music blasted through my stereo, shaking the whole car. We were those people at the stop light where even though your windows are up you can hear our music. It's not as bad as I am making it out to be, I was dancing to the beat and singing my heart out like it was Car Idol.

I was ordered out of my clothes and into a silky blue robe when I entered the luxurious apartment. We were drinking as we were getting ready. It took a village to get me ready, Lexi Solof Connor Carrick's lovely girlfriend was curling my hair as both Stephanie was working on my face, piling on the full coverage liquids and powder onto my nose layer by layer until the bruising wasn't visible unless you look hard and with the proper light that the club will not have. Stephanie did my eyeshadow with dark brown and golds for a Smokey eye, a lot of mascara and a set of false lashes - my eyes were briefly glue shut.

"All you need is a hot red lip but we'll do lipstick just before the guys get here," Molly soon to be Bozak winked handing out flutes of champagne to everyone that was quickly chugged back in the least lady like way. Notice I am the only one left to get dressed Stephanie handed me the dress bag containing my mysterious outfit as I stepped into the ensuite bathroom.

I cringed at the tall black strap heels at first but quickly changed my attitude as the alcohol courses through my body. Slipping into the sexy but seamless black thong Stephanie packed I knew the dress was tight.

My outfit was hot.

it wasn't actually a dress because it was two parts.

I had one an off the shoulders black top that had specks of golden weaves through different areas that would sparkle if they caught the light in a certain way that stopped inches before my belly button and the skirt was a tight high waisted encil skirt with the same gold accent that stopped just below mid thigh, my stomach was exposed but I felt amazing.

Stepping into the bedroom out of the ensuite the room was completely cleaned of makeup and clothing. The party moved to the living room by the sounds of female laughter clinking of glasses. The now empty bag and robe in hand I re-joined the part with drunken female whistles.

"YES!!" Sydney chanted stunted over in her glorious heels stopping inches still shorter than me, she cupped one of my breasts with admiration on her face.

" You got a great rack!" She cheekily quipped. Laughing I adjusted my strapless bra back to comfort with a wiggle. A glass full of blue liquid was presented to both of us and instructed to chug. Without question, I obey I down the sweet concoction.

A mini party was had before the guys showed up, when the guys did come I was sat my back to the door on the couch with Lucy soon to be Gardnier talking about her love for Jake, It was the cutest thing. Her love was so raw and true in shown in her eyes and gave her a glow, a lot of the girls here had the glow to think about it. Their smiles shined so brightly they could light the room without the need of the light fixtures currently doing just that. There are about 7 girls here, I being the only single one. Molly, Stephanie, Sydney, Lucy, Lexi, and Jaz who was Kadris Gorgeous girlfriend. All these girls were beyond beautiful it was intimating if I wasn't already buzzed but they are also so warm and friendly.

I didn't turn around instantly being in a conversation with Lucy but as soon as they guys found their respective lady. I took in that the guys were all dressed in their game day suites but looked refreshed, some hair was still damp or at least looked that way. Morgan, James, William, Kasperi, and Auston gravitated to the kitchen for drinks. Glancing at my half full/empty glass of something Jaz mixed, I remembered I still need to apply my lipstick.

"Hey Steph, Where'd you put that lipstick?" I caught her attention instantly with a glamorous smile, she stood with Mitch the heels giving her a lift she comes to his nose but my own hear give me height on Mitch. Now standing 6'1" In the heels.

"See, abs are better than yours," Steph reference the morning at the hotel, earning a glare/pout from Mitch and laughter from the guys and I.

"Don't tease the poor boy," I cooed. Steph kissed her pouting boy who instantly swapped his pout for a smirk.

"The lipstick?" I urged sipping my drink.

"Oh yeah, here" She handed me the lipstick from her bra dropped the weirdly warm lipstick into my palm.

"The warmth makes it apply evenly I swear but Boobs are a creative storage place," She mused playing with the hair at her boy's neck who twitch with a giggle.

The lipstick added the final touch to my look for sure, but I had to work on now smudging it. I carefully downed the rest of my drink feeling the tequila burn my throat a little as I stepped out of the bathroom shaking my head with a bit of a cough.

"AMELIA. SHOT!" Mitch hollered out as I enter the room, everyone had a shot of tequila with lime in hand. One was placed into my hand in a flash by a grinning William.

"LET THE NIGHT BEGIN!" Sydney cheered raising her glass slamming the back the alcohol violently. Following her lead well being mindful of my lipstick I expertly slam it back, goose bumps instantly raising my arms as I bit into the sour lime my shoulder shake on instinct.

"Oh god, that was horrible," Connor groaned out queueing a laugh to bubble from my chest.

Everyone lingers around drinking and talking as I observe I can feel an intense set of eyes on me, looking up to be met with the dark brown and calculating eyes of Auston a smile/smirk combo tilting the edge of his lips up as he talks to Mo and Kasperi. I look away first, finding a conversation with Mitch, Steph, and William.

"Your nose looks great," William quipped with the slightest of knowing smiles and a wink, my elbow 'on reflex' went out to greet his side with 'oof' when I get to his side.

" You look amazing in general though," He added with a genuine grin this time, instantly a blush worked up my neck, ears, and cheek.

It was roughly midnight by the time we were piled into XL ubers to get to a high-end club where the rest of the Leafs would be already celebrating, someone the guys used they're status to get practically a floor for the team and who they wish is what I've gathered from being in car with The Bozaks, Marners and Myself sitting in the back slightly squished by Mitch into the Window.

Arriving at the club we drove past the insane line in the front down a side road to the back of the club to enter privately to the excluded area. Instantly greeted by security and club staff handing wristbands to everyone to get into the excluded area but also the other VIP areas, also taking the names of everyone (even the hockey player) for the cliche list.

I've been in clubs but I have never been in one as intensely luxurious as this one, to get to the area for the guys we have to take an elevator which has two guards in front of it on all floors plus one that stays in the actual elevator.

Getting wear the rest of the team is, there are way too many faces to remember but a lot are familiar which provides some comfort. An elegantly dressed woman yet slightly exposed makes rounds with rounds with food provided by the club and others have trays of alcohol that's cover by I believe the players? Steph had made sure I left everything but my ID and phone in my car much to my dismay.

The first while being in the club, everyone was all over the place talking to each other before people gravitated to booths others went to the main floor to dance. I was currently buzzed and listening to JVR tell an embarrassing story about Mo and his tooth and something about difficulty pronounces some letter at first. The drinks were flowing in me giving me a pleasant buzz as I listen to anyone around me that talks.

My blissful nothing doesn't last long before the twin terrors of Steph and Syd set themselves into the booth beside me both bouncing to the beat of the heavy bass to the loud music, Setting down multiple shot glasses before me.

"Drink! then we're down to dance!" The smaller blonde yelled over the music into my ear. Tossing the vodka shots down with a grimace I nod as they cheer drag me through the bodies on the VIP floor. The added alcohol added to my confidence as I stride with them instead of letting myself be dragged like a child.

"I'm just gonna tell Matt first," Sydney sober briefly rerouting our course to where her boy sits with Mitch, William, Auston, and Connors. Lexi sits in her Connors lap with a drunken grin. pulling up to the table with our own drunken grins.

"LEXI! we're going down to dance! come come!" Sydney encourages before turning to her man with a fire in her eye "You too stud," she shoots an obnoxious wink and a becoming finger, Matt is instantly pushing Mitch and Auston out of the booth to get to his women both eyes burning with desire- leaving his two rookies practically on the floor.

"Oh, Mitchy come come!" Steph sinks her manicured claws into Mitches bicep begins leading towards the exit via the bar where we all renew our drinks continuing to the elevator nodding to the security with cheesy grins plus a loose smile from Auston as we enter.

I observed the desert rookie from the other side of the elevator car as he has swayed to the music but remains tense, his dress shirt is slightly unbutton making his chain noticeable and glimmer under the lighting, and His hair slightly messy in comparison to the way it was slicked back earlier.

He caught my eye with a raised brow but my brain does do it usual melt down, I wink with wide smile showcasing my all teeth. His brows shoot up cause a laugh to escape as the door open and I am being lead to the dance floor with the girls.

Leaving him behind.

NEXT

#auston matthews imagine #mitch marner #Amelia #on the rocks #482754

[shitfics]

The Smallest of Deeds (6/8); jongyu; nc-17

Jinki’s clan is gone.

Killed by humans, with no trace of a motive, on a night he spent away at Jonghyun’s cabin. To save Jinki from his loneliness – and his desire for revenge – Jonghyun suggests they journey south to find Taemin.

Their search for a place and purpose sends them to an organization known as the Inquisition, and the dangers they face after joining force Jonghyun and Jinki to confront parts of themselves and their relationship that threaten to break them apart.

finally, things are looking up for jongyu. ^^ hopefully everyone frustrated with jinki will like this part~

***

Jinki and Seungwan head far enough ahead of them to find the next camp by midnight, and they reach it just in time to still have the advantage of darkness for their approach.

“This group looks to only have two mages and a single warrior, other than whoever is sleeping in the two tents they have set up,” Jinki explains once they reach the nearby ruins. “I can take one mage out with an arrow before he even has a chance to get a barrier in place. We’ll worry about the warriors last.”

Seungwan nods. “And the other mage?”

“I should be able to handle him,” Jonghyun says. “Or at least distract him long enough to let one of you get a blow in.”

“Sounds good.” She smiles briefly at him — he’d gained her trust after healing her, it seems — then turns to Taemin. “I’ll stick with you and clear out one of the tents. I’m not sure how much good I’d be in an open fight without a shield or broadsword.”

“We’ll find you one as soon as we can.” Taemin tucks away the map that had still been in his hand and unsheathes his dagger, and then they split — Jonghyun is left alone, to circle around to the other end of the camp where one of the mages is resting, and the rest of them climb through the runes to keep cover as long as they can before entering the tents.

Jonghyun keeps himself low to the ground and watches anxiously, heart thudding in his chest until he finally sees a quick reflection of an elf’s eyes in the dark. From behind one of the broken columns, Jinki emerges with his bow drawn. The arrow flies in an instant later, piercing perfectly through the back of the Tevinter mage’s neck to exit through his throat.

Jonghyun’s stomach gives a traitorous twist when the mage’s body falls. He knows the man needed to die — deserved it, for being involved in blood magic and one of the Venatori — but did Jinki enjoy killing him? Because he was a mage?

Shouts begin to echo through the camp. He closes his eyes briefly, shaking away his thoughts to concentrate on the pulse of the Fade around him. Reaching into it, he slings a storm of fire towards the mage nearby. The man’s robes catch fire before he can try to counter the spell, and Jonghyun’s chest swells with a mix of sickness and relief when the man screams fall silent a moment later.

He turns his attention towards the two tents set against the ruins. Seungwan emerges from one, holding a sword in one bloody hand and an elaborate wooden shield on the other arm.

She nods to him, lips split wide in a victorious grin, but the moment is cut short when the tent Taemin had slipped into bursts into flames. He stumbles out of it, and another man follows, half-dressed and armed with an twisted ivory staff already glowing with the threat of another spell — a mage they hadn’t counted on fighting.

As quick as he can, Jonghyun throws a barrier towards Taemin, just barely protecting him when surge of lightning hits his back. The force of it still sends Taemin stumbling across the sands, and only Seungwan jumping in front of him with her newfound shield raised stops a second chain of electricity from hitting him.

Jonghyun pants, already drained from the broken barrier he had cast and the earlier fire he had used to kill the first mage. His connection to the Fade is weakening, but he forces himself to reach out for his magic again, this time for ice in hopes that using a new spell will be easier than repeating another.

The jet of cold air he sends forward is weak. The mage’s legs freeze to the ground, but nothing else, and he twists his torso towards Jonghyun with frustrated shout. With a quick jab of his arm, he slings out another spat of lightning that catches Jonghyun off guard.

He hears himself yelp in pain as his hand seizes, then his arm, and he has a half-second to worry about what will happen when the current reaches his chest before it’s cut short.  Stumbling forward, he forces himself to summon a weak barrier, but there’s no need.

Metal juts through the mage’s stomach, and Jonghyun stills, suddenly unable to bring himself to do anything but watch as blood slowly encircles the meeting of blade and robes.

Jonghyun wrenches his eyes away from the wound to the familiar tattooed face behind the man. How had not noticed when Jinki had gotten behind the mage?

Jinki’s gaze meets his, and a shiver runs up his spine. He expects to see nothing but hatred in the twist of Jinki’s lips. Hatred for the mage he’d just killed, and every other of the Venatori that deserved — and it's there.

But the moment his blade is drawn back, the look is gone, replaced by furrowed brows and a examining stare. The fear he had felt fades, but his heart continues to race when Jinki’s eyes travel over him as he steps forward. “Are you alright?”

Unsure how to respond to the concern, it takes him a moment to find his answer. “I...think so. It only stung my arm a bit.”

Jinki nods, and just like that, the concern frown he had been wearing is gone, replaced by the stoically straight line of his lips. Without another word, he shakes the entrails off his sword and hurries to where Taemin had fallen.

He extends out his hand. “Are you alright?”

“Well, I’m alive.” Taemin laughs, battle-drunk, and dusts off his breeches before taking Jinki’s hand to pull himself up. He pushes singed bangs out of his eyes and bats his eyelashes at Seungwan. “And it’s all thanks to my new hero, Seungwan —- even if she couldn’t be so kind as to help me up.”

She rolls her eyes, but grins. “I wanted to make sure that mage was dead before I worried about you being injured. And it’s not that heroic — this was my life before I caught that blighted sickness. You think they never threw magic at us in the arena?”

Taemin and Seungwan’s good mood must be infectious, because even Jinki gives a small smile. “I did notice you angled your shield downwards, to deflect any other spells he might’ve sent your way. Didn’t think they would teach that technique in Tevinter, considering they want mages to stay in power.”

She laughs and pats Jinki’s back. “Since I made them money doing it, they thought it was worth it.”

The conversation blurs in front of Jonghyun when he realizes his hands are aching. He looks down to find his fists clenched in his robes and loosens them, steadying himself on his staff to keep from losing his balance. His head is in a fog from the aftermath of casting so many spells so quickly, but that’s become a familiar sensation since they’d started to fight the Venatori.

But the sickness in stomach?

He doesn't know what to call that but jealousy.

He understands why Seungwan and Jinki get on so well — the rush of adrenaline from a battle, and the companionship of all of them being Tevinter and elves. And he knows Jinki well enough to be certain that the man never had a passing fancy for a woman.

But it still hurt to see. Seungwan and Jinki’s friendship could grow easily, because she wasn’t a mage. Though she could wield a sword and dagger as dangerous as any warrior, and likely killed dozens in whatever arenas existed back in Jinki’s home country, Jinki felt safer around her after only a few days than he had around Jonghyun after months. Simply because she lacked magic.

Jonghyun could never dream of touching Jinki so carelessly.

He forces himself to use his staff as a brace and marches off to prepare camp. He should be happy for Jinki, making friends, but he can’t help but be angry when it only served as a reminder of the trust he had never earned from him.

 ***

 All mages visited the Fade in their sleep. In the Circle, they were taught to fear it as a place of demons and illusions.

But to Jonghyun, it had always been an escape — first, from the Circle, and then, from the isolation of the cabin. Spirits were company, and Jonghyun had gotten used to talking to the benevolent ones whenever he had a chance. His favorite spirit — if you could call any spirit a favorite — was a spirit of compassion.  

He’s needed it’s advice often, lately. As deeply as he cares for Jinki, his feelings are shaking now. He wants to be ready to forgive, when this is over. When they're back at Skyhold or settled into some lonely cabin again, and Jinki can stop thinking in terms of shems and mages and start seeing him as he is again — but he doesn’t know if he can.

His compassion is wearing thin. He’d snapped at Jinki earlier that evening, he’d been avoiding being alone with him for the last week, and he hasn’t felt safe sleeping next to him since their first fight with the Venatori. One more cutting remark from Jinki might break any hope he has at moving past this whole disaster to get back what they had just barely started.

And then what? Jonghyun thinks. I’d be alone again.

The Spirit vanishes from the distance in a sudden burst of light. Eerie green mist of the fade shifts around him, turning darker, but the smell of it becomes familiar, a mix of dirt and herbs and apples and burning wood that makes his heart pang for the cabin he had left behind.

The Desire demon’s presence is familiar. It appeared whenever he got too lonely.

And now, apparently, when his relationship — if it could still be called that — got too strained.

The demon in Jinki’s form doesn’t stop smiling. It would be unsettling, if Jonghyun didn’t miss seeing that expression on him so much.

“You’ve tried this before, demon,” Jonghyun says. “And you know I will refuse you. You can’t give me a person.”

“You’re right. I’ll be honest with you this time,” it says. “ I can’t give you him, as he is.”

A ripple in the air, and Jinki — the demon, Jonghyun reminds himself — is close. Hands on him, warm and sure.  “But I can give you what it’d be like to be with him. All the best parts of him, freely given. Entirely unbroken.”

Magic surges around Jonghyun and forces the demon back. “He’s not broken.”

“Maybe.” The demon tilts his head, and the smile falls briefly, only to return a moment later when he reaches forward to push back Jonghyun’s bangs. “I would be him. But a better version of him. One that loves you fully — your looks, your words, even your limited magical abilities. He’d touch you freely. You’d never hear an angry mutter of shem or abomination from his lips ever again.”

Jonghyun smiles wryly. “He wouldn’t be Jinki, then.”

“What makes him Jinki, hm? His humor? I can have that. His looks? I already have that.” The loose tunic that had covered Jinki vanishes, and Jonghyun forces himself to look away only to find a hand catch his chin. Dark eyes bore into him deeply, and there’s an open want in them that makes him still. Jinki never looked at him like that.

Its voice is lower now. “Wouldn’t you want to try something new? I bet you’d enjoy being inside me.”

Jonghyun shivers, willing the image away as he tries to deflect. “I’m fine without that. I heard there’s some Dalish rule against doing that with a human, anyway.”

It scoffs at him, lips twisting into scowls as it retreats. “Fine. Stay a weak little mage forever. But know I’ll be sticking around, in case you need me.” The vicious grin that pulls its vallaslin tight fits perfectly on Jinki’s face. “You might need the power to save him, anyway. You’re no match for the mages you’ll be fighting.”

Jonghyun startles awake when a burst of wind rustles the canvas of the tent.

He rises from his bedroll, rubbing his eyes, unsure if he wants to try sleeping more. The bottom of his bedroll is soaked through with sweat, and — Maker — that last display of the demon as Jinki, shirtless and freely wanting, has left him hard.

Taemin mumbles a sleepy complaint next to him. His chest aches.

A part of him wants nothing more than to return to Jinki’s tent.

When Taemin had stayed with him, he’d thought that would be the only person to sleep in his bed for years. And then Jinki had shown up.

Jonghyun had never told him how much the visits had meant, but it hardly mattered now. They couldn’t even be around each other.

 ***

 Jinki sighs to let his irritated breath heat hit the cover of his bedroll. His turn on watch ended hours ago, he’s sure — Seungwan is already back from hers — but he still hasn’t managed to sleep at all.

He can’t get the sound of Jonghyun’s pained shout of his head. Or the look in his eyes, when he caught Jinki checking on him — skepticism, as if he thought Jinki wouldn’t care that he’d been hurt. Surely Jonghyun knew that even if they were distant, he wanted him alive and well?

He pushes the edge of his bedroll under his chin and turns onto his other side, only to hum when he catches Seungwan staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Nope.” She stretches out her arms, then rests them behind her head. “Can’t seem to sleep in the day, though I’m tired as I’ve ever been. And I keep thinking about what I’ll do after this.”

“After this?”

“You know — after we kill the magister behind all this blood magic, or die trying.” She laughs lightly. “I don’t plan on dying, so I have to have a plan for after. How to make money, how to get food, that sort of thing...”

Jinki hums. “You’re a strong warrior, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about much. Those are always needed somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Her expression turns thoughtful, and silence falls between them long enough for Jinki to assume she’s finally fallen asleep.

He sighs. As much as he got on with her, because her determination reminded him of Hyoyeon, he never knew what to say when she started asking questions about the world outside of Tevinter, as if he were some kind of expert.

Suddenly, she sits up and nudges his shoulder, her cheeks rising in a smile.

“Hey. You think I could go back with you to your clan? Since they took you in, I assume they’d be open to former slaves joining them. And since you mentioned it, I assume warriors are always wanted.”

Jinki’s stomach sinks. “Maybe you could find a clan to take you in.”

Her brow furrows. “Is yours full or something?”

“No. I lost them.”

“Lost them?” She repeats.

He opens his mouth, ready to explain, but finds only a croak in his throat. But whatever expression his face wears must be answer enough, because her eyes widen, and she clenches her fist in her sheets.

“Maker, I...” She shakes her head. “Wrong god to mention, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, and I didn’t know...”

“It’s alright,” Jinki says, though his chest is still stinging from the reminder. “It’s why I’m here. After my clan was gone, Jonghyun suggested we find Taemin, since I’ve known him for so long — then, I found out the Venatori were related to my clan’s slaughter, and we ended up with the Inquisition.”

“...I see.” She lays back down. Another silent minute passes before she speaks. “So we’re nearly in the same position, then.”

The statement catches him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Trying to decide what to do with our freedom. I feel like there's so much ahead of me now, and I’m not sure what to do with it. What’d you plan on, before you joined your clan?”

“I don’t know,” Jinki answers, entirely honest. He barely remembers his first days of freedom. They’d been starving, avoiding the main roads for fear of being caught, and that’d been all he thought of until they crossed the Tevinter border. And even then, that yawning emptiness he thought of as the future had been pushed it to the back of his mind

“We didn’t have a plan. We just...left. Then we ran into the Lavellan clan.” He smiles at the memory of Hyoyeon in the woods. “I fell in love with the Dalish. Living in the wilderness, having traditions and community entirely separate from everything shems have done. I knew I wanted that life badly, from the moment I realized what it was. I learned how to shoot a bow, how to hunt, listened to every fireside tale I could to learn who our gods and goddesses are...” he trails off when his eyes begin to sting and touches the marking on his chin. “I dedicated myself to it to earn my valasslin.”

“You really loved it, huh?” She smiles softly, and he nods. “Do you think you’ll join another clan after this?”

Another question that leaves him clueless. “Not all clans are as friendly to outsiders as mine was.”

“Would you really be considered an outsider? I mean, you’re clearly Dalish.”

“Yes, but...” He frowns as he tries to understand his own reasoning.

Why had he never considered it a possibility? As Seungwan had said, he wasn’t only Tevinter anymore — he was Dalish, and he had the vallaslin to prove it.

Yet, he’d never considered finding another clan. Perhaps at first, he’d been too numb from the loss of the people he considered his family to think of it, but even as he came out of that fog, it never occurred to him. But even in Skyhold, where shems surrounded him at every turn, and he’d felt entirely isolated, he didn’t think of joining another clan.

He’d only thought of staying by Jonghyun’s side.

His stomach drops.

Of course he could never imagine life with a new clan, when he’d anchored himself to the mage so completely. They would never accept a new member with a shem lover — he’d been lucky no one but Joonmyeon or Hyoyeon asked questions when he’d disappear for days.

A wave of nausea rolls his stomach as he tries to envision of the future ahead of him. Would he give up Jonghyun for a clan he wasn’t even part of? One without Hyoyeon and Joonmyeon and Jungah?

His stomach churns again. He wouldn’t have to make that decision, though, would he? Jonghyun had decided for both of them.

A sudden hand on his knee makes him jolt.

“Hey.” Seungwan frowns at him. “You alright?”

“I just...” he swallows. “I never thought of finding another clan, until now. But maybe I should.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.” She observes.

He looks down at his lap, unsure what to say. How could he even explain that imagining his future as part of a different clan is painful? Not even because he misses his old one, though he does — but because he’d felt safest by Jonghyun’s side, and he’d already ruined any chance he had of having that permanently?

“Is it because of the mage?”

His head snaps up. “What makes you think it’s about him?”

“It’s a little obvious you have feelings for him.” She shrugs. “During the last fight, you seemed more worried over him than Taemin. And you mentioned coming to the Inquisition with him just a moment ago. That, plus the fact you two refuse to share a tent—”

Bitterness rises in his throat again, and he finds himself snapping. “I never minded sharing with him.”

“...So he rejected you?”

Jinki winces at her bluntness. “I suppose so. He’s pulled away entirely.”

“And you’ve tried to talk with him about it? Whatever’s making him do that?”

He flushes. “No.”

“Maker, and I thought nobles were the only ones that acted helpless all the time.” She lets out a long sigh as she rubs her temples. “You should talk to him. What’s the point of freedom if you don’t pursue what you want?”

Her question fills the hollows in his chest with a heavy weight. The canvas walls of the tent claw at the edges of his vision, and the conviction behind her question suddenly seems threatening. He finds himself rising to his knees before he can think. “I’m going to get some fresh air.”

He doesn’t hear her response, and his fingers shake when he hooks the tent flap closed behind him.

What did he want to do with his freedom?

He’d never bothered thinking about the future. Even when he’d dreamed of escaping Tevinter, he’d never dreamed of what he’d do outside of it. All that mattered was that his present pain would end, and the magister could no longer touch him.

By chance, he’d come upon the Dalish, and those years with the clan had been the happiest and easiest of his life. He’d been satisfied, having a place and a home, even though he’d been excluded from all woodworking in the clan for being born outside it. He could hunt for the clan, whittle scraps for himself, and trade stories at the campfire with Joonmyeon and Hyoyeon and Jungah.

It was easy to pretend that’s all there was to life, when his closest friends were women and Joonmyeon had promised himself to a man in a distant clan on the other end of the continent. Then Taemin had come back, and Jonghyun had felt safe, and he’d felt that heat across his skin that frightened him as much as it excited him.

Creators, he’d felt more at home in Jonghyun’s cabin than anywhere else. For all he was a shem, he’d taken everything about Jinki without question, and only offered more openness in return — the comfort of the clan, but without the watching eyes of the elves who would always look at him as tainted for being raised in slavery — and the safety he felt with Taemin, but with a spark that made him ache to look and touch in ways he’d never felt with anyone else.

Realizing he hasn’t moved since he exited the tent, he forces himself away before Seungwan can ask questions, only to turn and nearly run into Taemin returning to his own tent.

Taemin must be able to read the need for silence on him. Their eyes meet briefly, and then Taemin breaks his gaze away, giving only a small smile before he brushes past to continue on to his tent.

Jinki’s heart races when Taemin disappears inside. If it’d been Taemin’s turn on watch, then Jonghyun would be next.

As if drawn out by his thought, Jonghyun stumbles out from the tent, squinting his eyes against the noon sun. It takes him a moment for his vision to adjust, but when he realizes Jinki is near, his eyes widen, and for a moment, Jinki sees a flicker of hope in them.

It leaves the instant their gazes meet.

Jonghyun’s mouth straightens, eyes going hard, and there’s no sign of hesitation in his step when he turns to walk towards the high sand dune they’d been using for their watch post that day.

His throat constricts at the sight of Jonghyun’s back. Why did it suddenly hurt more than before?

He turns on his heel to walk in the opposite direction, chest heavy with a new sense of loss.

Seungwan was right. He was wasting his freedom, acting as if he were helpless to do anything about his desire for Jonghyun, when he’d been dodging conversation with him since their first fight.

Maybe he could fix things, if he just showed a willingness to speak. But would Jonghyun even listen to him now?

He’d never worried about rejection from Jonghyun before. He’d never opened up to him truly, not since they’d shared those drinks and that first kiss — all their days spent together could be summed up in quiet glances, little gestures, and the burning desire he had to press his body against Jonghyun’s. He’d never shared that with anyone else, and thought that enough to convey his feelings.

But Creators, it wasn’t, was it? They haven’t had a moment together in days, or truly talked for weeks — all because he tried to shut down any discussion of their disagreements. The only words they exchanged since Seungwan had joined them were in the last battle, and that was all born of necessity.

As if guided by his thoughts, his pacing draws him towards Jonghyun. Wandering in circles around their camp somehow had turned into wandering around Jonghyun’s watchpoint, despite his start in the opposite direction, and he’s directly behind the mage now.

Jonghyun knows he’s there — he gave one glance over his shoulder before staring back at the sands ahead — and the tension in his shoulders seems to deepen every second Jinki lingers.

Jinki chews his lip and tries to think quickly. He’s so used to Jonghyun starting and carrying the conversation. What could he start with? Jonghyun always offered something to show he cared — food, or a potion, or a simple listening ear — maybe he could do the same.

He walks forward until he’s next to Jonghyun and looks at him from the side of his eye.

His features are the same — a slight and delicate curve to his wide nose, long lashes, and full lips — but there’s more lines by his eyes and mouth than he remembers, and the skin he remembers turning to a golden tan under the sun looks nearly sallow. His exhaustion is plain, and Jinki finds himself speaking without thought.

“You look sick.”

Jonghyun glances at him sidelong, almost offended, and Jinki realizes his opening statement had sounded more like an insult than a caring observation.

“I mean — you don’t look well. Are you getting enough sleep? I know you tend to be tired after a battle, and you might need to use even more...” Flustered, he struggles over the word magic, and ends up only clearing his throat. “You might need more energy for the next fight. I could take your turn on watch, if you want to rest.”

Jonghyun huddles down into his cloak, as if that could hide the dark circles under his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Jinki frowns. “Are you sure? Taemin said the next camp is likely the last. It’s a magister we’ll be going up against next.”

That draws a reaction. Plain fear, evident in the clench of Jonghyun’s fingers in the sands and the crinkle of his eye.

Jinki had made another mistake. He pinches the skin of his palm, trying to think again of something to say, but is interrupted by a shaky laugh for Jonghyun. “I understand since I’m the only mage in our group, you think I need to be at my best, but I don’t think any amount of rest will make me strong enough to take a magister down.”

Jinki frowns. “They’re not all as powerful as they make them sound in the south. Though they’re all mages, some of only become magisters through inheritance or political maneuvering. Some are weak, despite all their schooling. The magister that owned me wasn’t...”

His throat catches on his words when he realizes what he’d begun to say. Jonghyun’s head turns to him. His expression is neutral — as neutral as Jonghyun could ever make it, when his eyes give away everything — but the mix of curiosity and sympathy in his gaze nearly makes Jinki wilt. “Do you think he might be here?”

“No. I doubt the magister here is the one that owned me.” Jinki swallows, forces himself to continue, if only to keep Jonghyun’s attention on him. “It’s unlikely he’d ever join the Venatori. He considered himself a good man — he was progressive compared to most nobles — taught us all to read, rarely beat us, never killed a slave that I knew of....I don’t think he’d join up with some Tevinter supremacy cult.”

He smiles wryly. “But I still keep thinking one of the Venatori mages might be him. I’m afraid of it — I don’t want to see him. But I’m almost hoping for it, too. Then I’d have the chance to kill him myself.”

Jonghyun stays quiet, and Jinki feels a pang of sudden self-consciousness.

“I suppose you think of as me bloodthirsty savage for that.”

“No, I don’t,” Jonghyun says, and the look in his eyes is honest. “You have every right to kill him.”

Jinki blinks at Jonghyun openly, unable to hide his surprise. “...You don’t even know all he did.”

“I don’t, no. But I can guess, based on what Taemin had told me, and the way you acted sometimes when we — “ He stops abruptly, and Jinki freezes, not wanting to hear his next words aloud, but Jonghyun only clears his throat and looks away before continuing on. “Someone like that doesn’t deserve the life they were given.”

Jinki swallows. There’s sureness in Jonghyun’s gaze, more than he ever would have expected when discussing ending someone’s life. Somehow, a part of him had forgotten that Jonghyun’s kindness was not a blanket of goodwill applied to everyone, no matter what they did. He thinks back to the time in the forest — their first hunt, where Jonghyun had let Jinki kill the trapped hare, but was willing to do it if Jinki couldn’t; and now, in the regular battles with the Venatori — Jonghyun would do what was necessary.

Jonghyun is soft. Soft, but not weak.

He watches Jonghyun’s lips shift slightly, and stares, caught off guard by every feature as if he were falling for him all over again

Without thinking, he reaches out and covers Jonghyun’s hand with his own. Jonghyun looks down at them, but doesn’t pull away — only observes, as if he’s trying to understand how their hands could be touching when they’ve kept so much space between them for days.

After what feels like forever, Jonghyun looks up, and Jinki allows himself to brush his fingertips over the dried cracks of Jonghyun’s knuckles to link their fingers together.

Jonghyun’s back straightens, and a flush rises to his cheeks. “Would you still be alright with me taking you up on your offer?”

Jinki blinks out of the daze he’d fallen into from their contact. “Hm?”

“You taking my watch shift.” He pulls away his hand and to scratch at the back of his neck. “...I am actually quite tired.”

“Then you should rest.”

“I suppose I will.” Jonghyun gives Jinki a small, thankful smile, then stands and brushes off his robes. “Well, feel free to wake me if it turns out you need the sleep.”

Jinki nods, but his chest still squeezes painfully when Jonghyun turns to leave. It’s hard to resist the urge to follow, after Jonghyun had allowed him to hold his hand, but he forces himself to ignore it.

He shouldn’t need to rush things. Everything between them had built up slowly, after all, between the days Jinki had spent away from Jonghyun’s cabin and the months it had taken for him to get comfortable sharing a single bed.

The time on watch passes slowly and gives him too much time to think about Jonghyun and the fight ahead of them. His shadow shrinks as the sun lowers in front of him, and the direct light begins to sting at his cheeks despite the cold. To pass the time, he breaks off a branch from a nearby tree and begins whittling it down with his knife, trying to smooth out the roughest and weakest parts of the wood. He’d like to carve it into brooch, if he can — he remembers that Jonghyun had brought all the figures he’d made, on their trip south, though they were impractical little things, and thinks something wearable would be even more valuable. He doesn’t know if Jonghyun would want it, or if he’d even accept a gift when they’d only just begun to talk again, but the thought of Jonghyun possibly smiling when he fixes it to his cloak is enough to keep him occupied through the long hours as he waits for the sun to set.

When the moons rise, and all of them wake and disemble their tents, they begin their nightly trek westward. Usually, Jinki takes point with Taemin, but this time, he lets Seungwan walk ahead of him so he linger in the back with Jonghyun.

As subtly as he’d tried to make the shift in position, the change is noticed. Both Seungwan and Taemin send him looks — Taemin, a nearly lecherous grin, and Seungwan, an encouraging smile — and make sure to leave them space.

Jonghyun doesn’t react, other than to give a small nod of acknowledgement when Jinki falls into step beside him. The silence is almost comforting, and certainly familiar — so many of their days back in the cabin had been spent in wordless enjoyment of each other’s companionship — and the ease of it assures him that Jonghyun is at least open to his efforts now.

When Jonghyun’s stomach rumbles, he passes over his bag of dried fruits and nuts without a second thought, which earns him a shy smile that makes his stomach flip.

He forces himself to step away before he can give in to the urge to kiss Jonghyun. There’s still too much tension between them. Whenever Jonghyun thinks he’s not looking, he feels eyes on him, and each time he glances back, catches the puzzled and conflicted frown he wears before it fades away.

It’s enough to keep him from even reaching for his hand, as badly as he wants to when it sinks in that this might be their last full night of travel. He wants nothing more than to press himself against Jonghyun, lose himself in that rather than thoughts of the upcoming battle before he loses the chance to do it ever again, but it would only hurt the progress he’d made.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he misses Taemin’s raised-arm signal for them to stop, and only halts when Jonghyun’s arm blocks his path.

He stumbles forward. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Jonghyun pulls his hand back quickly from Jinki, but not quick enough for them to avoid a raised brow from Taemin when he turns back to them.

Before Taemin can open his mouth to ask about them, Seungwan speaks in a hushed tone. “We think we saw a big group of Venatori ahead of us.”

Taemin purses his lips, clearly displeased at being interrupted, but decides their mission is more important. “I’ll climb something to get a better look, but they look to be a half-night of travel away, If we continue, we’d get there by dawn, and I’m not sure we want to do that.”

“We shouldn’t,” Seungwan agrees. “Keeping our attacks at night gives us an advantage, considering all of the Venatori are human. Their vision is shit in the dark.”

“So what now?” Jonghyun asks.

“We wait.” Taemin shrugs. “If we approach any closer, they might spot us in the day. I say we set up our tents to save us the sun fatigue and hide out in them, until sunset. Then we’ll head to meet them, and well...we’ll hope for the best, after that.”

“Rest sounds like a good idea,” Jinki says, and they all share a solemn nod.

The realization that this might be the last leg of their journey together seems to sink in as they set up their tents. Even if he weren’t feeling it himself, he can tell from the way all of them have fallen into the habits that make them most comfortable that they’re dreading what lies ahead. He and Jonghyun fall into silence, while Taemin begins boasting as he works, doing his best to make an eager audience out of Seungwan’s initial hmph of skepticism.

Through a mutual decision, they decide against having someone on watch so they can all rest. He assumes Seungwan would be sharing a tent with him as she had every other time they’d stopped to rest, but she follows after Taemin and Jonghyun into theirs.

He pauses, waiting a moment to see if she’d leave, then enters his own tent alone and sets up his bedroll. He slips inside and pulls the thick wool over his ears to try and block out the sound of Seungwan and Taemin’s voices. He would chastise Taemin for keeping him up, but he knows well that nothing energized him quite like spinning stories, and he wanted them all to be in their best form, even if it means going without sleep.

The problem with that is that it leaves him with too much time to think about the magister they’ll be facing the next day.

He knows the magister won’t be his own. It’d be someone worse — someone capable of buying dozens of slaves and willing to sacrifice them for magical power. Some could extend their power over blood to bend wills and temporarily control bodies — he’d run into that before, as much as he’d tried to forget it — but even those men had been unwilling to kill more than one or two at a time.

Suddenly, he hears movement, and someone pauses outside of the entrance to his tent. He startles, heart pounding as his hand hand instinctively goes for the knife beside his bedroll. Maybe not having someone on watch had been a mistake—

The flap of the tent opens. "…Is it alright if I stay in here tonight?"

At the sound of Jonghyun’s voice, Jinki sits up, wide eyes betraying his surprise. A tense moment of silence passes between them before being interrupted by a loud streak of laughter from the other tent.

His ears twitch. No wonder Jonghyun didn’t want to stay in there.

Jinki clears his throat. "Are they, um…"

"No." Jonghyun answers, then grimaces. "Not yet, at least. They're flirting now, though — and Taemin's flattery is nauseating when you're not on the receiving end of it."

A soft laugh escapes him. "Yes, I can imagine."

A brief smile from Jonghyun, and then it’s quiet again. He turns his head when Jonghyun steps fully inside and lays his bedroll across the ground, pretending not to watch every movement for some sign he might want to share.

All he can think of is the warmth of Jonghyun's body, inches away but still untouchable. Even when he refused to speak, Jonghyun had kept him steady, given him anything he thought he needed or wanted. He wants to reach out. How had he gotten so reliant on the contact? They’d rarely slept together in Jonghyun’s cabin. But he’d spent every night of their travel to Skyhold and the brief time there pressed against him, and now that he’s realized how badly he wants Jonghyun, it’s hard to be without him.

His heart thuds as the ghost of the sensation washes over him, making the absence of it ache.

On impulse, he turns towards him

"Jonghyun, I…" he stops, struggling with where to start. He’d meant to let Jonghyun take the next step, and there’s too much he wants to open up about at once — the images that have always replay in his mind and his dreams, his fear that every shem they passed can sense what he's been used for and do the same to him, the dread that Tevinter would always hang over him and drag him back...

He’d covered some of it, the last time they spoke, when he’d described the magister that owned him. But he’d still been dancing around the the issue between them — his fear of mages and magic that lead him to support the circles. Realizing Jonghyun’s breath has hung on his answer, he spits out the first words that come to mind. "I've been an ass."

Jonghyun huffs. Jinki isn't sure if it's from surprise or disappointment, and the mage makes no move to turn towards him.

"I know I’ve hurt you. And I don't want to lose you," Jinki continues. "You're…all I have, in a way."

A long pause. Then, Jonghyun's voice, sharp and bitter. "Is that the only reason you care?"

"No." Jinki bites his lip and presses the heel of his hands against his eyelids. He'd used the wrong words, yet again, and he still isn't sure he can find the right ones. "Creators, I'm not good at this."

"I’ve noticed."

A long silence follows Jonghyun’s remark before he sighs. It’s a soft sound, more resigned than resentful, and Jinki’s chest lifts with hope when he sees Jonghyun begin to turn towards him, only to freeze when he stops halfway.

“I’m not sure we’re good for each other. You, who hates mages, and me, someone who spent years in hiding because I couldn’t stand that the world hates me for my magic.” Jonghyun laughs softly. “How did we even become a thing?”

Jinki ignores the sting in his eyes, and the waiver in his voice when he speaks. “Because you’re not only a mage. You’re kind, and patient, and—”

“My magic is a part of me, though. You realize that, don’t you?” Jonghyun sits up, and there’s frustration etched in the lines of his eyes that makes Jink quiet and listen. “I’m careful using it around you, because I know you hate it, but it’s still there. I never wanted magic, but I can’t change that I’m a mage, and when I hear how you think of other mages...”

Jonghyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing on.

“When you called that mage an abomination and killed him, at the first camp we attacked — you scared me. I know Tevinter was awful, and you had to kill that Venatori mage — we would have died, if you hadn’t. I certainly would have.” Jonghyun bites his lip. “But you called him an abomination. And you called me that, too, when we first met.”

“You aren’t — I don’t see you that way.” Jinki swallows. “I was wrong to do that, back then. I didn’t know you.”

“You were wrong.” Jonghyun stares him down. There’s a fierceness in his gaze that Jinki meets, but it softens as it lingers, until Jonghyun turns his head away with a sigh. “And Maker, Jinki — I want to be with you, but I don’t want to be with someone who hates what I am, or thinks I should be locked up for it, or thinks every mage is an abomination until proven otherwise.”

“I don’t want to be that kind of person,” Jinki says. “I...want to be the kind of person you want.”

He’d thought the statement was simple, but it seems to catch Jonghyun off guard. The stubbornness in his shoulders relaxes. “Jinki, I’m not...” he hesitates. “I’m not trying to demand you to change. I think you’re wrong about Circles, and you shouldn’t hate mages, but I’m not going to ask that of you. We just might not work.”

“There’s change through submission, and there’s change through learning. I think I would know the difference well.” He lifts his chin, daring Jonghyun to interrupt him, but he only gets a nod for him to go on. “I meant what I said. I changed my beliefs when I joined the Dalish, because I wanted to be part of them. I respected them, just as I respect you, and want to be with you. I can open my mind on magic.”

“I don’t want you to just copy my beliefs to be with me — I want to know what you genuinely feel.” Jonghyun frowns. “And I don’t need to know about your past, with magic or anything else. I just need to know how you feel in the present, if we’re supposed to have this work.”

“But...I think you were right. Mages should not be imprisoned for being born with magic, just as I shouldn’t be imprisoned for carrying a sword.” He takes a deep breath. “I was wrong to support the Circles, when you’ve shared some of what they’re like before. Though I don’t think mages should be allowed to do whatever they like, as they are in Tevinter—”

Jonghyun crosses his arms. “And you know even I wouldn’t favor that.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I acted as if you would.”

The direct apology takes the edge off of Jonghyun’s stare, and he lets his arms fall by his side as he sighs, long and strained. "By the Maker, it shouldn’t be this hard to be with someone.”

Jinki’s lip twitches in amusement, and he can’t help the familiar response from escaping. “You don’t believe in the Maker.”

“No, I don’t,” Jonghyun confirms, a small smile pulling at his cheeks. He takes a deep breath and meets Jinki’s eyes. “And even though it’s hard, I still want to be with you."

Jinki's throat catches. He's awful at finding words himself, but he can do reciprocation. "I want you as well."

Jonghyun’s fingers curl in his bedroll, and Jinki leans forward.

If they needed to speak more, he’s certain Jonghyun would turn away — but he doesn’t move back. Only stares, and waits, same as he had every time he’d let Jinki kiss him before. They’re close enough to see the reflection of his markings in Jonghyun’s eyes, and it feels better than he’d imagined or remembered, to have Jonghyun's breath mix with his again.

He lifts his hand to Jonghyun’s cheek, holding him gently as he tries to convey everything when he finally closes the gap between their lips, and only pulls away when he feels Jonghyun shiver.

"Ma vhenan," he murmurs, tilting his head to let their lips brush again, but Jonghyun jolts.

Jinki frowns and pulls back. Jonghyun’s cheeks and ears are a baffling shade of pink, and he’d never reacted so strongly to the nickname before, even in bed. "Should I not call you that?"

"No, I…" Jonghyun looks down, almost guilty. "I know what it really means. I asked one of my old friends from the Circle."

“Oh.” Jinki flushes, feeling caught. "I see."

He trails his hand over Jonghyun’s hip, unsure what to say now that his feelings are more out in the open. “Does that meaning...bother you?”

"No." Jonghyun looks down and smooths out his bedroll to find something to avoid Jinki’s stare. "I like it. I just wish I could call you some secret name for my heart or my love to get back at you — considering you lied about what it meant — but unfortunately I only speak common, and you already know that." He sighs. "I will find something nice to call you someday, though."

“I’m sorry I lied,” Jinki apologizes, but smiles, unable to help his elation at hearing Jonghyun ramble again. He runs his nose along Jonghyun’s jaw. "It’s good to hear you babble again.”

He hadn't thought it possible, but Jonghyun turns an even deeper shade of red. “I was hardly babbling — just complaining that I don’t have a nickname for you.”

Jinki laughs softly. “You don’t need one — my name is fine. I like how you say it."

Jonghyun huffs, but offers no protest when Jinki tilts him down towards the bedroll. He presses his lips against Jonghyun’s neck. He can feel Jonghyun’s pulse race beneath his skin. It speeds when he slips a hand along his waist.

Jonghyun gasps. It’s a pleased sound — familiar and heated — but Jinki’s mind flashes back to the last time he’d heard Jonghyun lose his breath, when the Venatori mage had wounded him. His chest clenches. The next mage they’d take on would be a magister, more dangerous than any they had faced so far.

He doesn’t want to miss a chance at having this again.

He slips his knee between Jonghyun’s leg, ignoring the bedroll in the way. When he leans his weight forward, he earns another gasp, and Jonghyun swears, one hand clutching at Jinki’s shoulder hard enough for him to feel his nails through his shirt.

Suddenly, Jonghyun pushes on his chest. “Maker, Jinki, wait —” He stops to catch his breath, and it takes him a moment to find his words. “I’m not ready.”

Jinki swallows. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Jonghyun smiles softly, then hides his head against Jinki’s neck to let out a sigh. “I normally would want this, but right now, I just...” His fingers curl in Jinki’s shirt. “I need time, to move past everything.”

“I understand.” Jinki lets go of where he had placed his hands on Jonghyun’s waist and moves back, ready to slip back into his own bedroll, but is stopped by a hand tugging on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to go — we can still share a bedroll, if you like.” His cheeks darken. “I would appreciate the company.”

Jinki smiles, reworking his way back to Jonghyun’s side. “You’re sure?”

Jonghyun nods and reaches for his hand. He holds it tight as he lifts the top cover of the bedroll as an invitation, and Jinki joins him without another word.

His heart thuds loudly in his chest. More and more of their bodies press together, until Jonghyun’s head is level with his collarbone and their feet are tangled together to fit both of their legs inside the bedroll. After a moment of hesitation, he slips an arm over Jonghyun’s waist, and when Jonghyun hums, his lips brush the valasslin on his chin in response. Jinki lets his palm flatten against the small of Jonghyun’s back to bring him closer. “I missed this more than I wanted to admit.” Jonghyun's response is a quiet whisper against his neck,

“Me too.”

#jongyu #da au #finally jinki is gettin better.. #long fic

[iciisms]

Agape, 1

as it turns out, I can’t even ship without writing some angst in. @tsundere-yurio consider this a parallel universe, so don’t feel our thread has to go in this direction :)

warning: this is LONG

The rink, which she was used to seeing dark and quiet save for her and Yuri’s conversations, was now filled with an anticipation that suffocated her lungs with every breath she took of the heavy air. She had forgotten what the rink looked like during the day. During the warmup, she had opted to get some last-minute jump practice in for her triples, rather than reveal too much of her program.

This time was different. Most skaters prepared two programs for the Grand Prix Series and Final. She had prepared three – two with Yuri, and one by herself, without his knowledge. She had been going to another rink at lunchtime during the week to practice her final program, since she wanted to surprise Yuri.

She stepped forward to the rink, an invisible circle around her. People stayed away from the place she stood – not that she minded. At tournaments, her focus was entirely within, only paying enough attention to her surroundings to know when her turn to perform was. She was usually alone; she had no family to cheer her on, nor a coach to speak to. Early on, the nickname the announcers had decided to give her had been something referencing an “ice sculpture,” likely due to her aloof nature in public.

She absently stared at the procession of performances before her, occasionally shifting her weight as she leaned on the rink wall. Her eyes followed the skaters before her, but her thoughts followed her own program. Although she had not scored particularly memorably in the technical aspects of her scores, her presentation scores had been high enough to just barely push her over into the final –

It was her turn – she vaguely heard her named called, and the in next moment she was conscious of, her skates had already hit the ice and were pushing her towards the center of the rink. Her eyes looked around for Yuri – he should be here, even if she couldn’t see him during the early afternoon.

Yuri, are you watching? This is for you.

She closed her eyes and delicately crossed her arms in front of her, extending her right foot behind her.

Unconditional love, was it?

Yuri’s face flashed through her mind in all its myriad expressions – his anger when she messed up and he screamed Russian curses at her, his pensive face when he was thinking about something, his smirk when she finally landed a jump. Actually - her lips twitched upward for a moment – it had been a while since he last scolded her that severely about a mistake, wasn’t it? Of course, she liked that last expression best – it’d felt different to skate for someone’s happiness besides her own. It empowered her, gave her motivation – but it also made her more vulnerable. She couldn’t disappoint him. She could not – she would not – let all the effort he’d put into her training go to waste.

So this was the infamous pressure of the Grand Prix Final.

“… With a different program, Agape, with the theme of ‘unconditional love,’ previously used by….”

She stopped listening to the announcers. She knew what they were going to say – inevitably, when she chose her theme and music for the season, she would be compared to Yuri Plisetsky, previous winner of the competition.

They were wrong though. She wasn’t trying to use his persona to boost her own, nor was it a poorly devised and concealed marketing trick. Like the music’s theme, she –

The music began with the first lyrics, and she pushed off the ice.

First was a quick, aggressive step sequence – then a quad.

The same one she had been doing – or attempting, he would claim - when she met Yuri.

A more sweeping segment, with spins and wide turns.

For his frustrations and burdens, which she wanted to share – as his protégé and friend.

A step sequence, more playful this time, when she began to genuinely enjoy his company.

Second half –

Yuri, I’m… so grateful to you. I hope I can show you this, in the only way I can.

She laughed internally at herself – she never had been very good at realizing, much less expressing, her own emotions. At least she could skate – it would speak for her.

Quad number two, with a double Lutz, single loop, and triple Salchow –

She almost landed wrong, but she managed to make the slight trip less obvious by immediately doing a spin that wasn’t in the original program to cover it up.

She inhaled sharply as she came out of the spin – she needed all the technical points she could get in order to make it on the podium, she couldn’t disappoint him. She didn’t care about the crowd, and she might be able to get a sponsor after this season even if she didn’t make it on the podium simply by getting this far, ostensibly by herself. But she had to do some justice to Yuri, or else everything would be for nothing. No, wait -

Agape.

She chided herself; she was getting too worked up.

Breathe.

She was reaching the finale.

Last step sequence and quad –

Come on, show him all the unconditional love you’ve got.

She closed her eyes and melted into the music again, trusting her body to remember the pure choreography. All those hours of practice wouldn’t fail her. She would never forgive herself, however, if she failed herself, and Yuri.

Why am I so fixated with Yuri?

The thought bubbled up from her subconscious before popping and disappearing in the face of the much-needed concentration for her last quad – the only one with two triples.

As she pushed up off the ice, Yuri’s instructions flashed before her mind, and she threw her confidence into the jumps.

When she hit the ice for the second time, she smiled. She’d been worried she would mess up the last quad, but she’d gotten lucky, it seemed.

Okay, Aruenaristy – almost done, just dance.

She took her original choreography, from the program she’d first shown to Yuri, and let herself go. After all, if it could impress him, surely it could impress the judges. Of course, she’d changed some elements – having Yuri as a companion had really helped ameliorate her frustration with herself lately, and she thought it showed in the choreography. And it was nice to have a friend.

She fluttered her eyes slightly open for a second, peering out at the vast blurs of people in the crowd from between her eyelashes –

Woah, she was going faster than she anticipated – but she didn’t mind. If she ran out of music, she could just improvise. She smirked, just subtly enough to be unnoticeable to the audience. When had she gained so much confidence?

“Oh, I’ll just improvise the ending to my Grand Prix Final program.”

She could never have imagined herself thinking that before she met Yuri. Maybe his confidence was rubbing off on her – they certainly had been spending enough time together for that to happen.

Ah, she was almost out of choreography. Time to improvise!

Might as well add another jump for fun – hm, a double Lutz would do nicely with….this step sequence. She could vaguely hear the announcers scrambling to cover the unexpected additions to her program, and almost laughed out loud before controlling herself. Honestly, they would probably wonder why she was having so much fun with the theme of “death,” but she didn’t care.

… I should have put this step sequence in the Allegro Appassionato, she thought regretfully.

As she moved into her final pose, she tried to control her breathing.

Yuri, did you see that? My Agape isn’t for anyone in that crowd, you know? It’s for you.

Wait, what? No, he was just a friend. But… no, friends didn’t dedicate a song about love to each other.

I… I love Yuri.

The realization almost broke her. Her arms went slack, and she slowly collapsed to the ground.

Of all people, it had to be him, didn’t it? We could never be together.

A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, and she suddenly realized the crowd didn’t understand. Unable to bear the thought of anyone – especially Yuri – witnessing her grief, she quickly rose, wiped away the tear, and smiled out at the crowd. But then the smile disappeared, and she glided quickly to the rink exit, all but ignoring the stares. A path opened in the small crowd of coaches and skaters to allow her to pass through to the kiss and cry, but she stopped when she saw the small bench.

She turned and spun around, heading to the locker area, paying no heed to the surprised whispers.

The kiss and cry was not for her. She had no one to kiss, no one to cry with – she had no one.

Just as she was about to leave the view of the arena, however, she heard her results and stopped again, straining to listen.

“Aruenaristy Delaney, with a score…. Record… presentation….”

No way – had she broken a record in presentation points? The crowd’s cheers made it seem so. However, instead of bringing her happiness, the recognition seemed to only prove something deep inside her, and she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but at the venue of the GPF.

She barely remembered anything of the awards ceremony, besides the weight of the bronze medal in her hand. The bronze, of course, was a little disappointing, but she knew the gold was unrealistic, and that she should be grateful she made it onto the podium at all. It didn’t lessen her frustration, though – she felt she hadn’t done justice to Yuri’s memory. The figure skating commentators probably thought so too.

She found herself kicking the back of the arena building afterwards – she still had time until the banquet, after all.

Her present problem, however, was gnawing away at her. She’d left the building as soon as she could, although she knew Yuri probably had expected her to stay and talk to him a bit.

Sorry, Yuri, but this is something I need to do without you watching me.

She kicked the exterior of the building again, watching with satisfaction as a few small fragments of stone sprinkled onto the pavement. Her back hit the wall as she leaned into it to look up at the sky.

Her eyes closed then – what am I going to do?

She loved Yuri – once realized, she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Did he love her back? She hoped not; it would only make it more painful.

Sliding down the wall, she huddled up with her knees pressing against her face, as a torrent of tears flowed down her cheeks.

Aruenaristy Isadora Delaney had never cried before in her memorable life – she had always been inclined to solve a problem, rather than crying about it. This time, though… she couldn’t solve her problem, no matter what. Yuri was dead. She could do nothing about it; even if they did love each other, they would never be able to do the things normal couples did. They’d never get to hold hands, or make their relationship known, or kiss –

What was she even thinking? Her hands clutched at her jacket sleeves as she rocked back and forth – was this the result of suppressed feelings? Of all the times at night she caught herself wondering if Yuri would like an idea of hers, of all the times when he was showing her a jump but she caught herself staring at his breathtaking form instead, of all the times when they bantered under the moonlight and she admired how his emerald eyes sparkled when he talked about his cat, or his grandpa, or an embarrassing story about his previous rinkmates?

She felt a new pinprick of tears to come threaten to overcome her, and she mustered all her strength, both physical and emotional, to rise. She picked up her bag shakily, and took a few steps towards home to change into a suitable dress before the banquet. She wiped her tears away with her sleeve once again – and broke into a run.

She could run away from the arena, but not from the epiphany. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself into a sprint, letting her long hair trail behind her, exposing her neck to the cold St. Petersburg air even as she pulled her jacket closer to her body.

First things first- get a sponsor at the banquet. Yuri can wait.

She knew she was lying, but the biting wind was a sufficient distraction for her. Pushing away her personal problems? Her specialty.  She ran a little faster – if only she could outrun death.

#drabble #tsundere-yurio #yuri plisetsky #yurio #yuri!!! on ice #au #yuri on ice