#and sure quade's work broke!! that deserved some points down!

[engagemythrusters]

Blown Away is such a bad competition because they only bring in judges with the same damn opinion as Katherine Gray. It's so one-sided. It's frustrating.

#like DAMN can we have some fucking variation of opinion for once??? #i LOVE some of the art she dismisses because it's not to HER taste #and the other judge just goes with it. why bother bringing in another judge at all at that point!! #there's no pretend fairness anymore! it just reads as ganging up on a piece!! #idk i LOVED Leana Quade's and Gemma Hollister's first pieces. #LOVED them #and sure quade's work broke!! that deserved some points down! #but because the judges didn't 'GET' it... it was dismissed??? #well *i* got it. #i got it. i would stare at that for hours. i LOVED it. #and they just felt like gemma's was like. incomplete? idk. that was dumb #not everything has to be a finished vase... i loved the few leftover pieces!! #the work was about creation! the nebula is still 'forming'!!!!!! #ugh #idk. they just need judges that actually GIVE VARYING OPINIONS FOR ONCE #blown away #blown away season 4

[jennibeultimate]

Personal recap Worlds 2021 - Ladies FS

And of course I am doing one for the ladies. I am just fuming with anger right now. So this might get harsh and salty. Just a warning. I go down from place 1.

I like Anna's skating and musicality and I am actually glad that even if this was neither her best performance nor a performance that touched me it was still the best of those Russians on the podium. If Trusova would have won with her skates I would be even more mad. So congrats little fairy you did it. ❤️ She is a sweet person and she deserves the world. The scoring is not in the skaters hands, but her scoring was...a choice but still a lot more reasonable than Trusova's....

Liza's story is amazing. Just from this point of view it's an amazing achievement. A rolemodel for all figure skaters that they have a chance after their puberty. Her tears when she found out she won over Trusova touched me. So congratulations from the bottom of my heart. 🎉 BUT this was not a silver medal winners performance. Too many mistakes, too little program. One 3A was fantastic but the rest was so and so. I am glad she got ahead of Trusova but it's not a performance I would remember and 69 PCS is questionable at best, compared to Loena, Kaori and Karen it's not right.

Alexandra Trusova...where to start? It would be called a major downmelt if she wouldn't jump quads. Her TES shoot her up high and looking at the protocol technically calls look ok, I would have lowered some GOEs but the TES are hardly my problem. The PCS are atrocious. There was no choreography, no interpretation, nothing left of what seemed to be improvements in the SP in the season. The PCS were way too high. 10 points should go down at least. 56 was what Eva Lotta got and sorry this was worse than her by a lot. And I am sure without quads and without being from Russia, she wouldn't have gotten those PCS. And that's my big fat problem. This was rigged and corrupted PCS scoring at its best. And this program won the free skate??? Wtf. If that's the future I won't watch skating any longer...nothing against Trusova herself but judges are setting the wrong example here. And no I cannot say congrats from my heart because I would have not put her on the podium. It's clear she also benefitted from a lot of the last group skaters not doing well and her high PCS from the SP. I mean everyone trains hard, so not deserved would be wrong to say but just I am not good with this. So still...

Congratulations to the medalists! You fought hard!

Karen Chen is probably the most underestimated of this competition. She came through with two beautiful programs and showed everyone that she was the right choice for this team. I can only applaud👏👏👏 She was imo robbed of the Bronze here. Her PCS are too low compared to Trusova and Liza and others. 4th place is still a very good result for her and saves USA 3 spots for teh Olympics. (wouldn't it be the biggest joke if ladies have 3 spots but the men don't? Not that I wish for it but that's a still a possibility) Her spirals are just A+! 😍 One of the only programs of today worth rewatching.

Loena Hendricks just did that!!! 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥The underdog of this comp just did that! She was the best today. World champion material. Ofc others may have stronger technical content but the cleaness and presentation was the best of everyone today imo. Even if I am not even a big fan of the program but so well suited to her. Really happy for her. 😊

Kaori Sakamoto is the loser of the day. I am still fuming on Kaori's behalf. Yes there was a mistake and yes she has a Flutz but again if everyone gets a pass on edge calls so should Kaori. Edge calls seem only to exist for Kaori. 🙄 She was lowballed in PCS. An almost clean program and 1 point more PCS than the 2 falls skate of Trusova? Sure...🤮 I probably wouldn't fume so much about Trusova's PCS if others like Kaori and Loena would have scored in the 70s but no...admittedly I don't think this was the best version of Matrix...anyway Kaori deserved better. Love you Kaori! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Rika was extremely hard to watch. Heartbroken for her. 💔💔💔She seems to still deal with her ligament injury, still looking at the trainings I thought she would do well. I think not competing and being in such a good position to win this made it mentally tough on her here. I like this lovely program a lot but for today's program 69 PCS was friendly but not when I look at Trusova though...this were just a couple too much mistakes sadly. I hope she can rest well. She will come back stronger! ❤️

I am including Satoko here because she is the other heartbreak for me. 💔 Nothing worked. She was totally out of everything. She is such a magical skater. 63 PCS are just horrid for a skater of her caliber. Puh...I am sad...love you Satoko and happy birthday 🎂 ❤️

I am so heartbroken for Team Japan in general💔😭😭😭😭

Olga Mikutina was my surprise of this competition. When I watched her live at Euros 2020 she fell all over the place, this was such an improvement. Impressive! 👏👏👏Lovely! You got yourself a fan. 😍

Bradie Tennell - I read that her skates broke prior to the SP so that hindered her here. Still I think Bradie did fairly well but too many little errors that lowered TES and PCS are a big joke anyway. Normally I would say those PCS were fair but then we have Trusova and that's where the sense stops for me...

Haein Lee - she is a lovely skater. She is young but a very committed skater to presentation etc. I like her a lot. Not a bad result for a first World Championship. Ofc they were hoping for a 3rd spot but this wasn't a given from the start.

Yelim Kim - my other fairy just dropped a whole lot. 😭 Not much worked like usual. I am so sorry. Such a perfect SP and now this free skate to drop her even behind her teammate. Maybe she wanted too much starting in the last group? The pressure is huge. Haein Lee and Yelim Kim just have the best dresses of this competition! Korean ladies costumes are always A+++❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Lastly I just mention those I liked in the earlier groups:

Josefin Taljegard 🔥 🔥 🔥 She was on fire. Interpretation A+++ her skating and technical content in general are too low to be competitive but I would rather rewatch her a 1000 times than watch Trusova or some of today's other performances ever again. Also I would rather gladly take 24 programs with less technical content and performances like hers than this diaster free in general from today. In other words stan Josefin! ❤️

Eva Lotta Kiibus - her program is well made. Her technical content is good. Her costume is a dream. She can show more of her personality during the program but the basics are great. Love her. 😍

Lindsay Van Zundert - delivered again a wonderful clean program. Very positively surprised with this young lady. 😊

Overall this event was a disappointment. Scoring wise it should not have surprised me. Performance wise it was disappointing as well.

No not a competition worth rewatching. If this is the ladies figure skating of the future then I quit watching ladies. I hate the uneven apply of rules and the playing favorites of the Russians. And also JSF should finally start backing their skaters or Japan will drown in the end.

Sorry for the on going ranting about Trusova's PCS but this is the main problem for me why nothing of everyone else makes sense. And just a clarification, it's not against Trusova, it's the judging and the way this kind of skating gets more reward than ppl with actual programs. It must be disheartening for a lot of skaters.

Bye.

Praying for a better men free skate. 🙏

#figure skating #rika Kihira #kaori sakamoto #alexandra trusova #anna shcherbakova #elizaveta tuktamysheva #yelim kim #Personal recap #stockholm 2021

[athena-athena]

Heroes (Yondu x OC)

A/N: I wrote this for @bigbandbombshell​​‘s 400 Follower Challenge! Congratulations on 400 followers, darling! Here’s to 400 more! 💖

Summary: This fic features Yondu and my OC, Athena. Yondu has doubts about his relationship with Athena, which she tries to allay. They leave for a mission that doesn’t go as planned. 

Word count: 5092

Tagged List: @rooker-character-fics​​ @misfitgirlwrites​​ @posessedxparrot​​   (Let me know if you’d like to be added to / removed from my tagged list!)

Warnings: Angst. Dangerous / near-death situations. 

Challenge Notes: I chose the song “Heroes” by Peter Gabriel and the following image:

Yondu stopped walking at the sound of footsteps behind him. He recognized Athena’s tread and waited for her to catch up to him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, walking around to face him.

“Jus’ some maintenance ‘round tha ship.”

“All week? I’ve rarely seen you. You don’t come back to our room until late and then you’re gone when I wake up.”

“Jus’ a lotta stuff ta take care of.”

She searched his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“Jus’ tired, I guess.”

She hesitated for a moment as she watched him. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know, you just seem… distant.”

She looked down at her hands for a moment and he noticed that she was twisting them out of nervousness. He felt a pang of regret that he’d caused it.

“Sorry, darlin’. I promise I’ll try ta finish up early tonight.”

“I’ve missed you, Yondu.”

She gave him a small smile and he felt another pang.

“I’ve missed ya, too, darlin’.”

She took a step forward and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. “Well, I know you’re busy, Captain, so I’ll let you get back to work. I’ll see you tonight?”

He didn’t miss the fact that she’d phrased it as a question and it killed him.

“I’ll see ya tonight, darlin’, don’t worry. I’ll have ‘em send something ta tha room fer supper, an’ we can spend some time together.”

“Okay!” She gave him a quick hug, then started walking backward as she said, “I told Tullk I’d help him with some stuff, so I’d better go.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

“Bye, Yondu!” She waved before turning around.

He watched her leave, sighing after she turned the corner. He walked into a mostly-unused supply closet and sat down on a crate, resting his face in his hands.

He loved Athena more than he’d loved anyone, and he hated that he couldn’t just tell her how much he loved her. How much she meant to him. Part of him kept waiting for her to leave. If he was honest with himself, he thought she should.

He’d thought about it. He’d done nothing but think about it for the past couple of weeks. Ever since he’d seen Athena talking to one of the Terran traders on one of their supply runs. It was innocent, he knew that. There had been no flirting, nothing to give him pause or make him wonder about Athena’s feelings.

But it still made him realize that she deserved someone like that trader. Someone with a steady and safe job. Someone who could provide her with a nice life, someone she had more in common with than a Ravager. Someone who could give her a house and children. Someone completely unlike Yondu.

He stood up and kicked another crate, not caring when its contents spilled across the floor.

He knew Athena deserved better, but he also knew it would kill him if she left. He wouldn’t stop her if she chose to leave, though. He wouldn’t stand in her way, even if it would feel like being stabbed by uncountable knives.

Leaving the mess he’d made, he left the supply closet and made his way to the training room. He’d talk to Athena later that night, but in the meantime, he’d work off some excess energy. He locked the door behind him, grabbed a quad blaster, then picked a target that looked suspiciously like the Terran trader.

_

Athena brushed her hair nervously as she waited for Yondu to get back to their room. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, except that Yondu had been acting strange lately and it had her worried.

She started when she heard the door to their quarters open, and she took a deep breath, placing the hairbrush on the small counter in their bathroom.

She walked out to meet Yondu and was relieved to see him smiling. He pulled her into a hug and she melted into him, taking in the comforting scent of him before pulling back to grin at him.

His hands rested loosely on her hips and she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him as he held her steady.

When she stood in front of him again, he took her hand and led her over to one of two mismatched chairs. She sat as he pulled the other chair over next to her.

“Food’ll be here soon.”

“Okay.”

“How was yer day?”

“It was good. Just helping Tullk with some stuff. How was yours?”

“Good.”

“Are you -” Athena broke off mid-question when she heard someone knock on the door.

“That’ll be tha food. ‘Bout time, too, I’m starvin’.”

He strode to the door, took the food from whichever Ravager had carried it down from the mess hall, and brought it back to the table.

He handed a plate to Athena. “What was ya sayin’ ‘fore tha food got here?”

She took the plate and picked up a fork. “Oh, I was just going to ask if you were sure everything is okay?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, ever’thing’s fine.”

She bit her lip as he placed what she hoped was chicken on her plate – it was sometimes hard to tell. “It’s just… you’ve seemed so distant lately. Like you’re pulling away.”

He met her eyes across the table and sighed. “Okay, yeah. I jus’ been doin’ some thinkin’.”

“About what?”

He placed his fork on his plate and rubbed a hand down his face. “Us. Me, mostly. I mean, I jus’…”

He stood up suddenly and walked across the room, keeping his back to her.

“Yondu…”

“I jus’ ain’t good enough fer ya. I seen ya with that Terran trader an’ I jus’… I knew.”

She looked at his back in bewilderment. “Knew what?”

“That that’s what’cha deserve. A good man who probably ain’t never robbed nobody. Ain’t never killed nobody. Ain’t gonna be draggin’ ya inta danger ever’ damn day.”

“Yondu…”

“I done things in my life I ain’t proud of, things I’d be ashamed fer ya ta know ‘bout, an’ I’m afraid yer gonna find out and hate me fer it.”

“Yondu, listen to me.”

“Wouldn’t even blame ya if ya left.”

“Yondu!”

Her raised voice stunned him enough that he turned back to face her. She stood and walked over to him, though she didn’t touch him.

“Darlin’ -”

“No, you’re going to listen to me now. I may not know what all you’ve done in the past, but I do know it doesn’t change anything. I may not understand just how much you’ve suffered. I may not have ever imagined myself living with Ravagers. I may not always understand you. But I do know what you are, Yondu Udonta. You’re a good man and I love you.”

“I don’t deserve ya, darlin’, an’ you definitely deserve better’n me.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. It’s not about what we deserve.” She took a step closer to him and placed a hand gently on his cheek. “Yondu, I need you to understand that I love you and that’s all that matters.”

He covered her hand with his and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he smiled. “Ya mean it?”

She gave him a small smile and shook her head as she lightly pushed his chest. “Do you think I would have given that long speech while our food got cold if I didn’t mean it?”

His smile widened. “I love ya, Athena.”

“I love you, too, Yondu. Now let’s eat.”

They returned to the table, Yondu in a noticeably better mood.

He took a bite of the hopefully-chicken and said, “Mmm… this food’s good.”

Athena nodded. “It is. I have a question, though.”

“What?”

“What’s this about me deserving Terran Ted?”

“What? He’s a decent guy, got a steady job.”

“But he’s so boring. Honestly. Me and Terran Ted?”

Yondu chuckled. “Sorry, darlin’.”

She pointed her fork at him. “You’d better be.”

He grinned as he took another bite. “Got a tip ‘bout a new job today.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“Probably. Be worth it if we can pull it off. I ain’t ever been ta that planet before, but the tip’s pretty detailed an’ my informant gave me a key to get into tha place. Think I got enough info ta take it on.”

“Sounds good. When are we going?”

“Thinkin’ tha day after tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I’ll go practice my shooting.”

“Ya ain’t gotta go, ya know. Probably best if ya stay here on tha ship. Ya ain’t actually been on a mission yet.”

Her brows creased as she lowered her fork. “I can’t go?”

“Well, I mean, I ain’t gonna stop ya if ya really wanna go, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. We need ta start ya out on a easy mission first.”

“You said the tip was detailed. Does it seem like it will be a hard mission?”

“Well, it’s hard ta say.”

“What do you think?”

“Uh, it’s probably gonna be pretty straightforward. Jus’ can’t say fer sure.”

“Well, I want to go.”

He sighed as she glared at him. “Fine. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Placated, she offered him a small smile. “I’ll be fine, Yondu. I’ve been practicing using the quad blaster, and I’ve gotten better. And you’ll be there!”

He returned her smile and shook his head slightly. “Yer right, darlin’. It’s gonna be fine.”

_

They landed on Ebrion two days later, and Yondu was unexpectedly nervous.

“Ya got yer quad blaster?”

“Yes.”

“An’ yer spare blaster?”

“Yes.”

“An ya remember how to use ‘em?”

Athena rolled her eyes. “Yes, Yondu, I remember how to use my blasters.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Yondu, relax, it’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, yer right. What can go wrong? I mean, it’s a deserted planet, right?”

“Right.”

“An’ the map we got fer inside the cave is pretty detailed.”

“Exactly.”

“In an’ out, no problem.”

She nodded. “No problem.”

Yondu sighed and pulled her in for a hug. “Somethin’ jus’ feels off.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “What could feel off?”

“Dunno. Jus’ a feelin’.”

She leaned back so she could see his face. “Do you normally get feelings before missions?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you normally right?”

“Most of tha time.”

She bit her lip. “What do you think is wrong this time?”

“Dunno,” he repeated. “Maybe it’s a good idea if ya stay on tha ship.”

Her brows creased. “No! We’ve already discussed this. I’m coming with you.”

Sighing, he replied, “Fine, fine.”

“It’s going to be okay, Yondu.” She leaned up and kissed him, smiling as she pulled away. “We’ll be fine.”

_

After organizing the crew into three separate groups, Yondu led his group across an empty field.

“Map says there’ll be a stone buildin’ that’s painted blue on tha other side of that hill. It’ll be down in a valley. Then we’ll jus’ follow these directions down ta tha door. Says it’ll be wooden, also painted blue, with a door knocker.”

“Ya still got a bad feelin’ ‘bout this place, Cap’n?” asked Kraglin.

Yondu nodded. “Yeah, reckon so.”

Athena caught up to Yondu and said quietly, “But you said the planet was deserted. What could go wrong?”

“Lots a things. But don’t worry, darlin’. If anythin’ goes wrong, Kraglin has orders ta get ya back ta tha ship safely.”

“If something goes wrong, I’m going to stay and help.”

“No, ya ain’t.”

“Yondu, I thought we’d -”

Yondu stopped walking and held out an arm to stop Athena. “Did ya hear that?”

“No.”

He looked around at the crew members with him. “Y’all hear anythin’?”

Most of the crew looked confused, but Tullk nodded. “Mighta heard somethin’, Cap’n. Can’t be sure.”

“Let’s go, but quieter now.”

They moved forward without speaking until they finally crested the hill and headed down into the valley.

“There’s tha stone buildin’.”

Kraglin shivered. “Looks mighty creepy jus’ sittin’ down there by itself, don’t it?”

They made their way down, and as they moved closer to the building, Yondu checked in with the other two groups. Once he’d confirmed both groups were in position, he motioned his group to follow him again.

They moved through the labyrinthine paths, Yondu checking the map occasionally, until they reached the blue, wooden door with the knocker.

“This is it. I want y’all to stay back with yer weapons out. Some of y’all can fan out back ta tha end of tha path. Athena, I want ya stayin’ close ta me.”

She nodded without speaking, Yondu’s nervousness rubbing off on her.

He moved forward toward the door, pulling the key out of his pocket. He inserted it into the lock, trying to turn it. His brows creased as he tried again, then once more. The lock wasn’t stuck. It was worse than that. Far worse.

“Damn!” Yondu pounded a fist against the door.

“What?” Athena asked.

“Damn it!”

“What is it?”

“It’s a false door.”

“It’s a what?”

“A false door! There ain’t nothin’ inside. There ain’t no artifact. It’s a damn trap.”

It was a trap. A trap. How had he fallen for such an obvious setup? And worse yet, he’d brought Athena with him, into danger and death – the one thing he swore he’d never do.

Yondu ran a hand down his face as he considered the implications. He didn’t know who would want to set him up, though he was sure that were plenty who did, but not knowing who made it harder to come up with a plan.

Athena was watching him nervously, biting the inside of her cheek, and Yondu tried to keep his face blank.

She flinched as someone fired a gun somewhere above them, and Yondu wanted nothing more than to protect her. He hated himself for putting her in this position. She’d done nothing to deserve this, and yet here she was, paying the price for all he’d done wrong in his life.

The rest of his crew had headed back up the path to join the fighting at the first sign of gunfire.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly.

She looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“Sorry I got us into this mess, sorry I ain’t a better man fer ya. Ya deserve -”

“Yondu, are we really having this conversation again? Right now?”

“I know what’cha said, an’ -”

“Were you not listening? I love you, Yondu. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“But -”

“No! Just stop. I love you, Yondu, and that means all of you. I can’t make you believe it, but I’ll do my best to prove it to you every day.”

Yondu grabbed Athena and pulled her as close as he could, his lips on hers before she could even process what was happening. Even with the guns firing above their heads, even with being on the wrong side of the door, the deadly side of the door, she couldn’t help but melt into him, into the rightness of him.

A bullet ricocheted off the wall close to them and they were violently brought back to the harsh reality of their circumstances. Yondu grabbed her shoulders and moved her back to arm’s length.

“Ya gotta get outta here, Athena. Ya gotta get back ta tha ship. I’ll distract ‘em long enough fer ya ta make it. Kraglin’s at tha end of this path, an’ he’ll get’cha back safe.”

Her brows creased and she shook her head in disbelief as she realized what he meant. “No. No! I’m not leaving you here!”

He moved his hands from her shoulders to cup her face. “Yes, ya are. I ain’t lettin’ ya stay here an’ get hurt.”

“What about you? I don’t want you to get hurt, either!” A tear slipped down her face and Yondu wiped it away with his thumb. “Yondu, I love you and I’m not leaving you here alone, even if that means I die with you.”

Yondu took a step closer to her, his hands still cradling her face as he leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, his ruby eyes meeting her blue ones. “Darlin’, yer not dyin’ here. Ya hear me? Yer gettin’ off this forsaken’ planet.”

Her hands grabbed the front of his coat in a tight grip. “Not without you.”

“Athena -”

“No! Forget it, Yondu. I’m staying!”

She could see the resignation on his face and knew she’d won, though she wasn’t sure at what cost.  

His shoulders rose and fell and she knew he’d sighed, though she couldn’t hear it over the shouting and gunfire. “What do we do?” Her voice broke on the last word, even as she tried to be brave.

She knew it was a suicide mission now, just as she knew Yondu was also aware of it. She could see it in the set of his shoulders as he released her face. Another tear slipped down her cheek, and she repeated, “Yondu, what do we do?”

“We get outta this mess.”

“How?”

“We’s Ravagers, ain’t we?”

It was the first time he’d referred to her as a Ravager. The first time he’d accepted that she wasn’t going anywhere, that she didn’t think the Ravagers were lesser for being criminals, that she didn’t think he was lesser. The first time he’d truly believed she loved him and wouldn’t leave him. It didn’t matter what he deserved. She loved him regardless of who he was and what he’d done and she’d keep loving him as long as they lived.

The thought gave him a greater need to survive this day. He’d kissed her knowing neither would survive, though he knew he’d die trying to keep her alive, but now, now, he had something more to live for and he wasn’t giving that up without a fight.

“We find a way.”

The blazing look in his eye gave Athena the spark of courage she needed to keep going. She nodded, once, and slipped her arms around him, giving him a quick squeeze, before pulling back and removing her quad blaster from her holster.

“Lead the way, Captain.”

He grinned, knowing in an instant that something had changed. He’d loved her before, more than he could have imagined possible, but this was something more. This was complete trust. He trusted her to have his back, implicitly, and he could see in her eyes that she felt the same. He knew there was no one else he’d rather have by his side at this moment. His friend. His lover. His queen.

“This ain’t gonna be easy.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Nothing ever is when you’re involved.”

Chuckling under his breath, he moved slowly away from the false door to the edge of the wall, taking a look around the corner to try to determine the best course of action. It looked hopeless, but he hadn’t become a Ravager Captain by giving up when things looked hopeless. He turned his head to check on Athena once more before heading into the fray.

She stood behind him, in the stance he’d taught her, holding her quad blaster in the correct position, aiming at the ground until she was ready to fire. He’d never imagined she’d ever use it. Never imagined she’d ever need to use it, but he thanked every star in the sky that he’d taught her himself so he knew she was taught right. He didn’t doubt she’d hit her mark when she finally lifted the blaster and took aim for the first time.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“Stay close ta me.”

Yondu turned his head again, took a deep breath, then whistled his arrow out of its holster before leaving the relative safety of the alcove. He strode purposefully forward, whistling his arrow at every enemy he could see, though there were more than he knew he’d be able to take down on his own.

He could see Ravagers still standing and fighting, but it wasn’t enough, not even close to being enough. He could see the ship in the distance through the smoke and haze, but it might as well have been on another planet. He was about to give in to despair when he felt Athena move beside him, lifting her quad blaster and firing, taking out an enemy.

The Ravager the enemy had been fighting looked up in surprise. “Cap’n! I thought ya’s dead!”

“Well, I ain’t!” Yondu shouted over the sounds of the battlefield. He sent his arrow through the skull of a man running toward him with a raised sword. “Ya seen anyone who looks like tha leader?”

The Ravager pointed across the battlefield. “I ain’t sure, but I think it’s that big fella over there.”

A wave of recognition crashed over Yondu as he looked to where the Ravager pointed. It was one of the many people Yondu had stolen from over the years.

The jobs he took were never personal. It was strictly business. Granted, it was dirty business and the person on the other side was never happy about the results, but he’d grown used to it by now. He’d made plenty of enemies. Plenty of people would happily kill him without another thought. None of them scared him like this one.

Acheron Kane had been crueler than most, and had Yondu known what he was getting into at the time, he would have turned down the job at the beginning. But he’d thought it was just another theft, just another run-of-the-mill job. It hadn’t been.

Acheron Kane was unhinged, and the amulet Yondu had stolen from him had belonged to Acheron’s lover, who had died two years before. He had believed the amulet would help him bring her back, and though Yondu knew that was impossible, he would never have stolen it had he known the significance of it to Acheron, simply because he’d since learned that Acheron was not someone to be crossed.

By the time he’d learned of it, he’d already sold the amulet and forgotten about it. Acheron hadn’t. He found out who’d stolen it and vowed to kill anyone Yondu ever loved. Yondu hadn’t worried about it at the time. There was no one he loved, not the way Acheron meant, and he hadn’t taken the threat seriously.

He’d managed not to bump into him again and the threat had faded in his memory. He hadn’t recalled it after he’d met Athena, and it hadn’t resurfaced after he fell in love with her, lost in the haze of wonder that someone like her was with someone like him.

But he remembered it now and it chilled him.

“Stay with Kraglin.”

“What? No. I’m going to help -”

“No, ya ain’t, yer stayin’ right here.” He turned to her. “Do this fer me, darlin’. Promise me.”

“But -”

“Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise.”

Yondu turned without another word, hoping she’d keep her promise. He didn’t know if it would be enough to keep her safe, but he couldn’t let Acheron know Athena was more to him than just another crew member.

If he found out, they’d both be lost.

He walked purposefully across the battlefield, sidestepping fighting groups of Ravagers and enemies, his eyes never leaving the imposing form of Acheron Kane.

He knew the moment Acheron spotted him. The man had turned and paused at the sight of Yondu, an evil smirk spreading across his face. He hadn’t walked to meet Yondu, instead waiting for Yondu to close the distance.

“So nice of you to join us, Udonta.”

“Wha’dya want, Kane?”

Acheron tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I think you know what I want.”

Yondu was hoping against all hope that it was a bluff. That Acheron had lured him here only to kill him, and not that he’d discovered the truth about Athena. He hoped Acheron didn’t even know Athena had joined his crew, that she even existed.

“Yer gonna hafta be more specific. Otherwise, I’ll be leavin’. Got things ta do.”

“I heard you have a new crew member.”

Yondu’s heart sank but he willed his face to remain impassive. “Keepin’ tabs on me, are ya?”

“Oh, yes. Mine wasn’t an idle threat. I still intend to carry it out.”

“Ya wasted yer time, then.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t think yer killin’ my crew’s gonna have tha effect yer lookin’ fer. Crews are a dime a dozen.”

The evil smirk on Acheron’s face grew wider. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Rumor is that you care more for one particular crew member than you do the others.”

“Don’t know where ya heard that.”

“My sources have never failed me. I doubt they’re going to start now. I have to admit, though, when I made the threat, part of me feared it would never come to fruition. Ravager Captain, Yondu Udonta, falling in love? Unlikely. But it seems I was proven wrong.” He looked around the battlefield as though he knew Athena was nearby. “Where is she, Udonta? Why are you trying to hide her? You know how this will end. You know I won’t stop until she is dead. Why prolong it?”

Yondu shook his head, his practiced nonchalance an effort this time. “Still don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Enough of this nonsense! I know who she is, Udonta, and I know she is here.” He took another step closer to Yondu and lowered his voice, though it lost none of its menace. “The longer you delay, the longer you take to bring her to me, the longer I’ll take to kill her. I will draw it out. I will make her suffer. She will beg for death before the end, and I will make sure she knows you’re the reason she’s suffering.” He paused and took one more step closer to Yondu, leaning in to leer at him. “And I’ll make you watch it all.”

Yondu couldn’t suppress the chill that went down his spine. He knew Acheron wasn’t lying, but he also knew he wasn’t going to give in and hand Athena over to the evil man standing in front of him, not without a fight. Not unless he’d drawn his last breath.

He also knew the time for bluffs was over.

“Ya must think I’m crazy if ya think I’m gonna bring her over her.”

“Ah, so we’ve moved past the lies. Good. And we both know you’re only delaying the inevitable. Do you think we can lure her out if I hurt you? Do you think she loves you enough to put herself in danger for you?”

Yondu’s jaw clenched. It didn’t go unnoticed by Acheron.

He raised a brow. “Or maybe she doesn’t love you enough for that. That makes it even worse, in a way, doesn’t it? That she’s going to die for someone she doesn’t even love.”

Yondu made a jerking movement as though the very words pained him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Udonta? Don’t put your fears into words?”

Yondu whistled, his arrow leaving its holster and flying toward Acheron’s head. Acheron caught it easily and chuckled.

“I wondered when your toy would make an appearance.” He snapped it in half, and the two pieces fell harmlessly to the ground. “But I grow impatient and I tire of this meaningless banter. Bring her to me or I shall find her myself.”

“I ain’t lettin’ ya lay a hand on her.”

“You’re in no position to be making promises you can’t keep. Although I suppose she’s used to broken promises, being with a Ravager. Your type aren’t known for keeping your word. Did you promise to keep her safe?” He shook his head. “Just one more worthless promise from a worthless Ravager.”

The sounds of battle continued to rage around them, but the two men might as well have been the only two on the battlefield.

“Why not just kill me? She ain’t done nothin’ ta ya!”

“Killing you won’t satisfy me. I want you to suffer. I want you to feel what it’s like to have the person you love ripped from you.”

“I didn’t kill -”

“You might as well have been the one to pull the trigger! You stole the amulet from me! The only way I could have brought her back! And now it’s gone.”

“There ain’t no bringin’ back tha dead. Ain’t no amulet can do that.”

Acheron glared at Yondu. “I want you to remember those words. I want you to remember them every day. Every day when you wake up and realize there will be no bringing her back to you once I’m finished with her! You will live your life knowing you were the reason she lost hers!”

Yondu opened his mouth to reply when Acheron suddenly dropped to his knees, a surprised expression on his face before he collapsed at Yondu’s feet.

Yondu looked up, stunned, to see Athena standing in front of him, her quad blaster still aimed at Archeron’s back.

She met Yondu’s eyes and took a shaky breath. “He talked too much.”

Yondu let out a strangled laugh and moved to her, sidestepping the lifeless body of Acheron. He pulled her close and held her tight as the battle raged around them.

She wrapped her arms around him, briefly, then said, “Should we be standing here when there’s still fighting going on?”

He laughed again as he pulled away from her. “Probably not.”

She handed him her spare quad blaster and he grinned as he took it.

“Together?” He asked.

“Always.”

They shared a brief grin before heading back into the fray and fighting their way to the ship.

_

Later, on the ship…

Athena dipped a washcloth in some water and gently wiped Yondu’s face, trying to clean his cuts.

“So you just… forgot about this pretty serious-sounding threat?”

Yondu shrugged. “Yeah.”

“How?”

“Well, it didn’t really apply ta my life at tha time. Didn’t expect it ta ever apply, ta be honest.”

“And then when it did apply?”

“Maybe I’s so smitten that it slipped my mind.”

Athena raised a brow and tried to hold back her smile as she dropped the cloth in the water. “Are you trying to sweet talk me so I’ll forget about it?”

“Maybe.” He placed his hands on her hips. “It workin’?”

Unable to fight her smile anymore, she replied, “Maybe.”

He chuckled and pulled her a little closer. “Good.”

#yondu #yondu x oc #yondu udonta #guardians of the galaxy #yondu fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg #400 follower challenge #RavagerQueen #yondu x athena

[brinytrolls]

if you’re open to plotting something new, what are some ideas you might want to explore with someone??

i am always open to plotting!! let me see what i can find, i’ll organise it by character,,,no dancestors for now but if u wanted to plot with one of them, feel free to send another ask!! 

i dont really have any DETAILED plot ideas, these are more just starting points..sadly none of my ocs rly have future arcs planned out so these are all pretty casual...and these are not an exhaustive list! im open to any and all plot ideas so pls dont be afraid to ask!! 

for faldur,, 

he’s always open for ex matesprits or ex kismesis, as well as casual pitch flings. theres pretty much no guidelines for these ones, if it’s someone who’d be interested in him, and they’re jade or above, it’s fair game! 

an ex mate might be someone who found him too intense and broke up with him, someone who indulged his narcissism and boosted his ego til his other quads were forced to intervene, or something else entirely, as long as there was a reason they had to break up (i currently dont want him to have a red quad 4 Reasons) 

kismesis flings…hes open to anything. he hangs around bars often and will flirt with Anyone he finds attractive, so if someones open to that kinda thing its good to go. this could also lead to general friendships! he has no friends currently. boo 

on the topic of friends, book friends! a little known fact is he spends a lot of time on book forums, and someone to geek out over books with would be a nice change of pace. 

bitchy highblood friends. just like a bitchy seadweller squad would be fun, tbh. 

enemies! got a seadweller who would find him obnoxious? hell yeah! enemies is pretty open ended, i’d be willing to have faldur fucked up to teach him a lesson (within reason, he IS a seadweller and he is strong. he does fight a lot) alternatively, u got a lowblood (or highblood tbh) who needs a reason to be afraid of seadwellers? faldur attacks ppl who so much as look at him funny, so thats a valid option too

MAFIA TIES…faldur works as an assassin for when people need something really fucked up done to someone. do with that what u will

OH I JUST REMEMBERED fleet recruiters/anyone from the fleet/similar organisation who sees potential in him. faldurs constantly torn between redemption and leaving it all behind to join the fleet, so that could be interesting! 

theres definitely more but…tbh im welcome to anyone approaching me with ANY plot ideas they have! 

will do the rest under the cut bc that got LONG 

I WROTE THIS ALL OUT AND FORGOT HARREL 

BIG ONE IS just other mafia trolls!!

mafia bosses/hitmen who would hire him. who are doing jobs on the downlow, and need a cleanup guy! harrel is very good at his job so he’s highly regarded within the business 

especially mean mafia ppl. be mean to him. its part of his character hes anxious bc the mafia is mean 

no specifics, but i want harrel to just get Fucked Up. like i said, he’s highly regarded so holding him for ransom isn’t out of the question. just fuck this nerd up 

on a lighter note! he frequents record shops and jazz clubs, so maybe a musician or two with similar interests to help him get out of his shell. he needs a friend or two. 

friends from university! anyone in sciences, forensics, medical science, criminal studies…he probably studied with them! his backstory is that he disappeared from university one day when he got kidnapped by a mafia boss, and managed to wrangle his way into them keeping him alive. an old friend who noticed and is suddenly Very Confused upon seeing him again like 5 years later 

someone he went to uni with who’s now in the law industry, and the conflict that might arise from them being on two totally different ends of the spectrum…could be a fun dynamic! 

on the same wavelength: old flames from university. ex quadrants, ex hookups, ex crushes. people he was romantically involved with before suddenly disappearing 

i think thats all…

forrr sarky! 

no real quad stuff needed for him…perhaps an ex or two, but no real ideas there! 

other grubtubers to be friends with, or fans who’ve met/would want to meet him! grubtube is a HUGE part of his life and i’ve never really been able to explore it, bc he has no connections involved with it. u got a grubtuber troll who’d collab with him? a troll who enjoys letsplays? a weird youtuber superfan who’d give their right arm to meet a letsplayer? fuck yea dude all valid options 

PETTY INTERNET DRAMA. im sure theres potential

sarky IS a shifter, meaning he turns into a weird dragon monster in the dead of night on a full…moons (idk how that works on alternia,,,hello???) u got a troll who’d stop him when they catch him stumbling shirtless thru the city streets post-shift towards a local diner at 4am weirdly covered in scars and looing like he’s about to pass out?? a poor overworked diner worker wondering what the Fuck this dudes deal is when he stumbles in at 5am before cramming his face full of meat?? a troll who hangs out in the wilderness bordering the city and saw the horrific sight of this fuzzy teal bitch shifting into a giant dragon?? or just a fellow shifter perhaps?? idk theres a lot that can be done here, im sure 

apartment neighbours! disgruntled highblood a floor below him wondering why this bitch keeps scaling the building?? or someone who thinks its pretty sick, actually. 

fellow city dwellers for him to meet and befriend or annoy the shit out of…he takes the subway a lot, so they can meet there. or in some greasy food place

connected to faldur, any ex quads of faldurs that had to be intervened with and broken up, sarky was probably involved. if u want them to be bitter towards him, feel free. it makes for more interest >:3c 

florem time…………..

GET FLOREM A GIRLFRIEND 2K20…PLEASE. i just want her to have a girlfriend. its what she deserves and we all know it 

get her FRIENDS TOO....friends who will support her, and her weird hobbies. florem has a tendency to help other people and forget about her own needs, so itd be nice for her to have a friend who listens to her too... 

perhaps a troll who stumbles upon her weird troll-eating plant. a fellow enthusiast or some poor soul she has to rescue, either or 

a fellow taxidermy enthusiast....maybe a pen pal who buys stuff from whatever the troll equivalent of etsy is 

camping buddy...............she has no one to go camping with!!

im sadly low on ideas for florem but i DO want interactions with her...

veleno tiem babey

she needs a gf in every single goddamn quad.....shes 100% single 

a Bunch of highbloods who were cocky enough to gamble against her, and are incredibly mad about losing. highbloods out for vengeance 

on the same wavelength, a highblood who lost and got incredibly mad and fucked her face up, giving her all them scars....vel would avoid them for the rest of her life, but perhaps its someone who frequents the same casinos as she does so she cant avoid em 4 Extra Drama 

other down on their luck lowbloods, maybe younger ones, who need her help bc shes Experienced. she can become their Street Mom 

other down on their luck lowbloods for her to just befriend!! she frequents a shitty diner, as well as singing in a jazz club and hanging around in casinos. if youve got a lowblood who hangs around in those places they could def meet! 

i THINK thats all i got...but know i am more than open to literally Any plot suggestion ever >:3c

#Anonymous #ask #save #pls read this is u ever even Consider rping with me i spent 2 long writing this #fredmusings #i cant believe i whole ass forgot harrel

[starrnobella]

The Unwanted - A Gilmore Girls Introspective

A/N: This story came to me after watching the episode its inspired by with my roommate, @xxdustnight88, and it wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it for you all to read. This is EXTREMELY different from my normal style of writing, so I hope that you still enjoy it. I decided that we needed to take an introspective look at how Logan was dealing with his family and this is what came of that.

Beta love to xxDustNight88 who also helped me come up with a title for this story as well. She's awesome and I'm so excited for our Christmas project that we will be working on here in the near future. Be sure to go check her out and send her some love!

I'm all over social media if you're interested in keeping up with my updates outside of this lovely site. Just search up the penname and I'm sure something will come up.

Let me know what you think!

Love always, ~starr

Looking around the table, he couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. Logan and Rory had barely said five words to his mother and grandfather. In fact, no one had even mentioned marriage. He and Rory had barely begun dating, so why did his family have to bring this up right now?

Rory was perfect and the fact that she wanted to work for her success, made things even better. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she was upset. This wasn't fair to either of them, but especially to her. She didn't deserve to be treated this way.

"Let's go," he said, whispering in her ear as he pushed back from the table. He made eye contact with his grandfather one last time before offering Rory his hand and quickly leading the two of them out of the house.

He heard his mother calling after them, but there was nothing she could say that would make him turn back around and rejoin that table. The last thing he wanted to do now was talk to any members of his family right now. However, just as the thought crossed his mind and they had made their way to the front door, his father entered the picture.

He looked him up and down and shook his head. Mitchum had to be aware of what had just transpired in the dining room. Even if he claimed to be completely unaware of what was going on, he knew and he didn't even try to stop them.

Every word that came out of his father's mouth just added to his irritation. Reaching down, he took a hold of Rory's hand and led her back out the front door. Ultimately, he just needed to get out this house. Being here made things worse. All he wanted was a nice evening with his girlfriend at a family dinner, but that wasn't the way of Huntzbergers. Dinner was always meant to be something more.

"Did I do something wrong?" Her soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts as they rode in relative silence back to Yale.

Slowly, he turned to look at her. There was a sadness on her face that he had never seen before, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure what to do to make things better. However, he quickly pushed the negative thoughts aside and reached over, placing a hand on her knee and squeezing gently.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Ace," he reassured, smiling when he noticed a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "My family is crazy. I hate the way they treated you tonight. It was completely uncalled for…"

Uncalled for was an understatement, but he was so upset with them that he wasn't able to think of the proper word to finish that sentence. All he wanted to do know was get her home and then drown his frustrations in a bottle of bourbon bought with his father's money.

Maybe he was making a mistake by trying to settle down with Rory. If he hadn't decided to try being a one woman type of man, then she never would have had to deal with tonight. Maybe he wasn't meant to be happy with someone like her. After all, his family wanted him to follow in his father's footsteps and an unhappy marriage is one of those steps he just might have to take.

"It's okay, you couldn't have predicted their behavior," she mumbled, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. He noticed her glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye and it looked as though she was going to say something else, but she quickly closed her mouth once again.

Logan bit the inside of his lip and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He'd give anything to make this entire evening up to her, if only he knew how to even begun to do so. He needed time to think and then sort through everything that had happened.

The rest of the ride to Yale was silent. Neither one of them wanting to make things any worse than they already were. As they walked back to Rory's dorm, they walked in silence. There was a heaviness in the air that surrounded them.

"Is it okay if I drop you off here?" The words left his mouth before he had even thought the entire question through. The expression on her face broke his heart, but at that point he just wanted to get away from the world for a few minutes.

He barely heard her as she told him that it was fine. He remembered mumbling something about calling her tomorrow as he walked away and stared at the ground in front of him as he went.

As he walked, his mind was filled with thoughts of all the ways he could have avoided this evening entirely. Each step of his thought process brought him back to the woman he had just left standing outside of her building with barely a proper kiss goodnight; but even worse, she had been left without dinner because he had let his anger get the best of him.

Stopping in the middle of his pacing, Logan carded a hand through his hair and scrubbed his hands over his face. Pacing in front of his building wasn't going to make anything up to Rory and it certainly wasn't going to make him feel any better about the behavior of his family. The only thing that could make this right was showing her just how special he thought she was and that the opinions of his family didn't dictate who he continued to date.

"I'm an idiot," he mumbled to himself, turning abruptly back toward Rory's dorm. She didn't deserve the cold shoulder. If anyone deserved it, it was him from her for the way his family treated her. Luckily for him, she was better than that and hopefully she'd be willing to forgive him.

He quickly made his way across campus and thought over exactly what he wanted to say to her when he arrived at her front door. Every thought through his mind didn't seem to say exactly what he wanted to tell her and it discouraged him more and more as he made his way across the quad with her building in sight.

As he reached her door, he paused and took a deep breath. Maybe this was a mistake. He thought about it briefly and immediately pushed the thought aside. This wasn't a mistake. He wanted to be with Rory more than he had ever wanted to be with anyone else in his entire life. This relationship was going to be different and that was something he was looking forward to, especially after listening to her stand up for herself to his family.

With one more deep breath, he closed his eyes and lowered his head as he reached forward and knocked on her door.

#rory gilmore #Logan Huntzberger #rory x logan #rogan #rogan drabble #introspective #inner dialogue #dinner

[tripletwistsandtripleaxels]

My thoughts on figure skating worlds 2018

So now that it’s been a little while and the initial shock of worlds has died down I figured I’d actually write about my thoughts on it.

First off, it was possibly the most exciting competition of the season, even if not in the best ways. It was especially interesting given how tightly competitive all of the disciplines were this time (I don’t really watch ice dance, so I can’t comment much on it, and didn’t get to watch any of it at worlds besides a few individual skates, so I probably won’t be including it in these thoughts).

Second of all, I don’t think anyone expected just HOW much drama would arise out of the singles events, both of which were pretty good until the last warmup group in the free skate had major disasters. But I’ll actually get into the details of the events I did watch below this.

1. Pairs. Well first off I have to say I’m SO glad to see Vanessa James and Morgan Cipres finally get a world medal! I’ve loved their skating for so long and I feel like it’s been a combination of them not doing as well as their potential and getting questionably lowballed on PCS sometimes (not always, but sometimes). Of course Savchenko/Massot gave one of the most beautiful performances I’ve watched, and I think this was the event that actually fully got me on board with them. I mean I’ve liked them for a long time and they’ve always skated well but I’ve never really emotionally connected with their performances the same way I have with, for instance, my favourites (Sui/Han, and even people like Marchei/Hotarek) but this time I really did feel it. And I’m not really sure why this performance in particular either. Some other highlights of the competition for me were Marchei/Hotarek (probably one of the most perfect pairings in this discipline, I’d say); I am surprised they don’t get top marks in choreography and interpretation always, because they’re among the best in this area. Also Della Monica and Guarise were a pleasant surprise, I didn’t expect them to be THAT good. Although those weird sea blue costume things have to go. In addition, I’m glad this was the last we will ever see of Tarasova/Morozov’s AWFUL Candyman free skate -- they’re quite good as a pair, but that music and costume selection is horrifying.

2. Ladies. Well, that was certainly an event, wasn’t it? I was rooting for Wakaba Higuchi to medal all along even though I didn’t think it was possible, but she did it, with one of my favourite skates of the season! Despite the fall in the short I do think she was lowballed on PCS (in particular interpretation and choreo, but also transitions, since she definitely has a huge variety of them) overall. While I don’t think necessarily she should have won, I think her short program in particular should have scored higher to make the gap smaller, even with the fall. While Satoko Miyahara didn’t have the best day with the rather bad URs and the fall in the free skate, I keep realising more and more just *how* good she is at performing to the music, and how beautiful her skating skills and spins are. She’s just so perfectly expressive and it’s more and more amazing every single time I see her, so it’s to the point now where I don’t care how much she URs and how small her jumps are, she’s just so amazing to watch and finally got PCS that reflected how good she is at everything (somehow Alina still got higher PCS than her in the short.... HMMMM). Also in a sense her small jumps are almost charming because she has such fast rotation that it looks almost delicate. Of course shoutout to Kaetlyn Osmond for winning this mess of a competition even though I’m lukewarm about her free program. Her short program is really beautiful to me though and her jumps are really good (except the lutz edge) and also I loved that exhibition program she did, haha. I do feel bad for Zagitova and Kostner, who were coming in with the chance to easily take first and second but then had issues in the free skate. Watching Kostner hit that fabulous short program in her home country was absolutely magical -- she has so much presence on the ice and it’s just stunning to watch. About Zagitova, of course I’m still not a fan of her programs or presentation (and probably won’t be unless she ditches the fake ballet... it’s not working for me, but she has so much potential to be a really exciting skater to watch if she changes up her style and fixes her presentation a bit.... although the judges throwing her high PCS gives her no incentive to fix it) but my heart broke for her after that free skate. That’s the danger with backloaded programs... once one thing goes wrong there is zero time to recover so everything else rapidly starts going wrong too. I hope she and her coaching staff handle this well, and knowing that she’s still Olympic champion regardless of what happened, although I don’t necessarily trust Eteri to handle it well in particular :/ Another major highlight for me was Loena Hendrickx placing 6th in the free skate and in the top 10 overall.

3. Men. So that happened. I didn’t get to watch it live but caught up pretty fast. I thought the ladies final group was a bit of a disaster but this took that to a totally new level with everyone in the last group but Chen having at least one major error or fall. Nathan Chen definitely deserved that win by a long margin, and it was with an extremely impressive free program that was super nice to see after Olympic disappointment. At the same time, I can’t help feeling like these programs have SO much more potential... there are not very many transitions, a lot of the choreography has been sacrificed for the jump layout, there’s not much in the way of interesting skating skills... which is a shame because Nathan definitely has style and is expressive when he doesn’t spend so much time setting up for jumps (as you could see in his exhibitions) but he just never has any time to show it in his competitive programs. In addition, as I mentioned, there’s not much in the way of transitions or skating skills, which makes it hard to understand his scores in those components in the PCS sometimes. Again, I don’t dislike him and he undeniably deserved this win plus he’s shown that he CAN be expressive and stylish, but I just question that sometimes. Shoma Uno did quite well for silver, even without the best programs he could have hoped for and the ankle pain. I don’t really like either of his programs this season, but his musicality is good enough that I give it a pass. I’m glad Mikhail Kolyada won bronze after a disappointing Olympics, especially with that SUPERB short program (scoring over 100 with only one quad!). Not a fan of his free program much and it wasn’t a great skate but it was enough in this field. I think the real highlights of this event were Kazuki Tomono and Deniss Vasiljevs. Kazuki’s free skate was really great, probably the best I’ve ever seen him do, and it was so much fun to watch! His short was good too. Vasiljevs being the only man to skate a fully clean free skate with no negative GOEs in this competition pleasantly surprised me, and it was probably my favourite program of the competition (and coupled with one of the most expressive and best-sold short programs I’ve ever seen from him, it was an amazing overall performance!). Now on to Boyang. My heart broke for him the minute he crashed the quad lutz (although it was clearly off from the beginning) and then he just never recovered and kept falling over and over again. :( I really hope he can be proud of himself and keep strong next season as well. I know he has his own issues with presentation and footwork (like Chen) but what he does know how to do is keep the crowd engaged, so it’s always fun watching him.

So there are my far-too-long thoughts on worlds. That was somewhat exhausting. Feel free to read or not read any of it.

#figure skating #worlds 2018 #my opinions #long #sorry lol

[the-real-xmonster]

Hello,I saw some videos about Evgenia compares with Yuna Lutz(a little 'hater' videos), personaly,I think Medv. deserve her scores, and her Lutz is improve,but what do you think?This comparision is correct? Why the people compare Evgenia with Yuna (only for the World Record? ) I saw Full competitions (2007-2010) and Mao and Yuna , they always fell, and became good after the years, why do people maximize Yuna, if she was many times behind Mao? Is Yuna as magnificent and perfect as her fans says?

Whoa, there are a lot of things going on here, so let me try to break it down in order.

Now, the Lutz comparison. It depends, was that video made to show that Janny’s Lutz technique needs improvement, by using Yuna’s as a benchmark? If it was then that’s a valid point, Janny does have edge issue with her Lutz and Yuna’s Lutz is textbook perfect. I do this kind of comparison all the time too in my tech posts, simply because it’s the easiest way to shed light on a technical discussion. That said, if the point of the video is to claim that, because of that one weakness with the Lutz, Janny doesn’t deserve to be where she is today, then that’s an argument as weak as this horrible thrice watered-down tragically sad vaguely brownish liquid the Americans see fit to call coffee, which I’m having to put up with at my workplace. 

Does Janny deserve her scores? I do think she’s a bit over-scored in PCS and jump GOEs, but not to the point that it’s completely outrageous. There has never been a competition she won in which the final standing could be questioned. As you said, she’s working hard to improve her Lutz too. It probably won’t ever be as good as Yuna’s, but she’s making steady progress. Every skater has their strength and weakness and to evaluate them you have to take both into account. 

Why do people like to compare Janny against Yuna? Obviously, one reason is that they have too much free time on their hands. I, personally, vehemently dislike this sort of comparison. They are skaters who belong to two different generations. There was a time gap of 6 years between Yuna’s free skate world record and Janny’s (Vancouver 2010 to Boston 2016). During that period, figure skating has moved forward, technical content has changed, judges’ PCS and GOE expectation has shifted, the landscape of the sport has been rearranged. That is before we mention the fact that Janny is still in a relatively early stage of her career and more development is only to be expected. Comparing Janny against Yuna is about as constructive as, for example, asking if Guillermo Vilas at his best could have won a clay court match against Rafael Nadal: it’s purely speculative since there’s no way to objectively verify it, and it offers little to no insight on the competitive result of either athlete. One other reason is, probably, because the technical advancement in the ladies’ event has not been as drastic as in the men’s, so to a casual observer, the progression from one world record to another is not as clear-cut as, say, when Yuzuru broke Patrick’s erstwhile FS WR back in 2015. Another reason is, well, Yuna has a legion of die-hard fans who are understandably irritated when they perceive that someone is threatening to eclipse their favorite’s achievement (tell you what, I’d probably be annoyed too if 6 years from now a snot-nosed up-and-comer breaks Yuzu’s WR, especially if he does so without jumping a trazillion quads and raising BV to stratospheric level). On the other hand, for some inane reason which I’ve never cared to dig into because I value my sanity, Janny has always been the target of an inordinate amount of criticism and in some cases outright hatred. As such, comparing Janny against Yuna in order to bring Janny down and raise Yuna up is simply a convenient device for Yuna’s fans to let off some steam without fear of offending the rest of the skating community.

To follow up on that point, I never really was that fond of the incessant Yuna v Mao talk back in the day either. I am a Mao fan first and foremost, but I like Yuna well enough too, and I’ve always found it distasteful how the media (Japanese and Korean, mostly) blew their so-called rivalry out of proportion (the same way I’m cringing now every time I see a Shoma interview in which Yuzuru’s name would inevitably be invoked as a magical spell to backlight it with drama). Yuna and Mao’s skating are so different that any generic comparison between them is worse than apples to oranges, it’s more like banana to… concrete, or whatever. Both of them are amazing though, and by framing your view of them through the lens of a rivalry, the underlying implication is that you have to choose one over the other, which means you’re limiting yourself to being able to fully appreciate only one of them. Why on earth, as a skating fan, would you do that to yourself, when both of them are so enjoyable to watch? 

Why is Yuna so popular and so well-loved and regarded by so many as a queen among figure skaters? Because she’s awesome, when she’s at her best her skating is, yes, magnificent. She is an incredibly charismatic, charming, and mature performer, plus, quite importantly, she was highly consistent. Throughout her entire competitive career she never finished off a podium, ever. Is she perfect in every single aspect? No, she isn’t. Her jump technique is great overall, but her repertoire did have a glaring triple-loop-shaped hole in it (by the way, if you ever get stuck in a reductive discussion with a Yuna uber, a pretty effective way to make them change tack posthaste is casually bringing up Janny’s triple loop). Her spirals left much to be desired, and I’m not the biggest fan of her spins. For a skater who’s got 11 world records on her resume, the development of her technical content over time was not exactly revolutionary. Yuna’s approach to competition had never been to up the ante on difficulty, but to keep perfecting the same elements she is comfortable with (which, incidentally, describes Janny’s strategy pretty well too). Then again, as said, while evaluating a skater you have to balance weakness against strength, and when you consider her as a complete package, there is no denying that Yuna Kim is one of the best female athletes the world has ever seen (yes, I’m saying athletes in general, not just figure skaters).  

I guess what I’m trying to say with this very long rant is, if there is one thing I could change about the skating fandom, it’d be to get rid of pointless comparison and contrived narrative. You are, of course, free to dislike a skater for whatever reason. If you have some sound, objective, technical-based grounds why you don’t like them, sure, go ahead and tell people about if if you want, preferably with graphic evidence to back you up. If the only reason why you don’t like a skater is I don’t get their skating or I find them annoying or their personality sucks or they are way overrated then do please keep it to yourself and please please don’t use such personal feelings to fuel your drive to go on a crusade against them. If you manage to keep your subjective negativity contained and feel that you deserve a personal thank you note for that stupendous achievement, let me know, I will very gladly send you a postcard.

#anonymous #replies #tech talk #yuna kim #evgenia medvedeva #figure skating #rant rant rant

[uhh-the-green-thing]

“You just make things so hard sometimes.” | Becca x MC (Jey)

Hey, guys. This is the first fic I have ever written. Ever. In my entire life. It’s a bit lengthy too, so I’m sorry if it bores you or if it’s not up to your guys’ standards. Hope you guys like it though. AND PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK :( I wanna know how I can improve my writing. Thanks guys.

It had been so boring today. Classes were bleak, the professors just droning on and on about whatever uninteresting topic they were talking about. Having no one to rant to about this also wasn’t helping, and Becca somewhat found herself missing Madison’s company.

“I don’t need her,” she thought, furrowing her eyebrows.

She still felt bitter about everything that’s happened–the divorce and the outvoting–and thinking about those soured her mood even more.

She started walking down the quad with a huff, the light spring breeze blowing her hair gently across her face. She needed a distraction from all of this; she needed Jey.

Becca reached down and opened her bag, grabbing her phone to send a text to Jey. Busy? Where are you?

Her reply was quick. Just working on an article. I’m by my tree. Something wrong?

She found it cliche that Jey’s ideal working place in Hartfeld was under a tree in the more secluded area near the quad. The silence makes sense, but where would she charge her laptop?

I’m coming. She replied, disregarding the latter question.

As Becca made her way to the tree, she took out her compact and fixed herself a little. Gotta look good at least.

From a short distance, she could make out Jey’s relaxed frame, typing away on her laptop. A notepad and some sheets of paper lie by her side. She looked about, checking if there wasn’t anyone nearby that she knew. There wasn’t a lot of people around, but it wouldn’t hurt to be sure.

“Hey,” Becca greeted as she walked over to her.

Jey looked up from her laptop and smiled as she saw Becca. “Oh, hey.”

Oh, dear god that smile. Becca would never admit how she loved seeing it. She was slightly flustered by Jey’s subtle scrutiny, loving the way how her brown gaze felt just as kind as normal but held a degree of intensity to it–a look mostly reserved for people Jey deeply cared about–and she almost forgot how her throat worked. Yep, she felt better already. “Classes done?”

“Y-yeah,” Becca stuttered. She sighed, sitting down next to her.

“I’m guessing they went well?” Jey teased, seeing the woman’s lack of enthusiasm. She put her laptop aside and turned to Becca, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek softly. Becca rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, hardly,” she grumbled as she laid her head on the brunette’s shoulder, Jey wrapping an arm around her waist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“So what happened?” Jey asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh? You wouldn’t be acting like this if ‘nothing’ happened.” She cast a side-eye.

“No, that’s just it. My classes bored me to death and there’s literally nothing to do.”

“Well, you could always do me…” Jey trails off. Becca raised her head from Jey’s shoulder and gave her an unamused look, chuckling slightly when Jey gave her a sly wink.

“Shut up,” Becca said, looking down as her smile faded. “And all this divorce and sorority crap isn’t doing me any good either.”

“Oh…” Jey frowned. “Have you talked to Madison yet?”

“Of course not, why would I?” She scoffed, shaking her head. Jey moved her other arm and took Becca’s hand in hers, running her thumbs in slow, comforting strokes. She felt Becca relax a little against her.

“Becca, she really wants to patch things up with you. Just hear her out, I’m sure that she’s having a hard time with this too. She is your best friend, right?”

“Oh please. She stole my position. She’s probably having a grand time now that she’s queen bee,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Jey sighed and looked at Becca, thoughtful. “I highly doubt that, Becca. She’s a really sweet girl, and it’s not like she asked for the girls to vote for her. That’s just very un-Madison.” Jey reasons. “And remember how you told me that you only got one vote? Did–”

“Wow,” Becca interrupted, her face forming her trademark scowl. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“I’m just saying,” Jey said emphatically, “Did you ever stop to think that that vote could come from Madison?”

Becca’s scowl softened. Huh. Madison would do that. She knew the endearing dummy too well, but was far too proud and stubborn to admit that maybe Madison did vote for her. The thought did little to quell her annoyance though.

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” Becca finally said, suddenly cold and withdrawn. She looked down and started plucking at a patch of grass by her side. Jey breathed a sigh resignation, clearly disappointed, but knew better than to push. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Jey holding Becca in her arms, hoping the silence and her touch may calm Becca. Jey held her closer and nuzzled against her neck, relieved when there weren’t any signs of protest from her.

Birds’ chirping could be heard in the distance along with the low murmur from a few people occasionally passing by. Leaves rustled as the wind blew, and Jey closed her eyes, reveling in the quiet and Becca’s warmth. Maybe I should bring Becca here with me more oft–

“I’m sorry I’m like this.” Becca spoke, her voice interrupting Jey’s thoughts. “I don’t get how you put up with me, why you put up with me” she continued, her somber tone worrying Jey. She removed her hand from Jey’s grasp and looked down, staring at that same patch of grass she was plucking earlier.

“Becca…” Jey turned her body towards Becca, her heart breaking as she assessed the woman beside her, studying the woeful expression on her face.

“Every time you see me, I’m either mad or sad. I’ve been so horrible to you, Jey,” Becca looks at her. “Since day one. I spilled coffee on you, I humiliated you in front of the whole sorority, I fucking pushed you into a pool, I’ve been a bitch to you everytime we saw each other, I–”

Becca broke. The shame of her actions overwhelmed her; the force of it almost physical, so much that she glanced away from Jey and stared at the ground. One day, Jey would forgive her, because it was in her nature to forgive. And maybe she already has. She was a compassionate woman, who for whatever reason, cared about Becca and was willing to give her a second chance. But could Becca ever forgive herself?

She doubted it.

Hot pinpricks lit behind her eyes. Becca closed them and tried hard to blink back the threat of tears. She hated showing any kind of vulnerability to anyone, but her strength was wavering.

“Hey, look at me.” Jey said softly, grasping Becca’s chin and gently raised it. Becca lifted her eyes, reluctantly meeting Jey’s gaze.

But then Jey kept staring at her, kind brown eyes searching and forgiving, so lovely and soft and full of caring, and that traitorous warmth in her chest started to seep through the cracks, and it was all so unfair.

“I care about you, Becca. I care about you a lot more than I let you on to know,” Jey said, wondering if her admission gave too much away. She raised her hand and cupped Becca’s cheek, running her thumb across her skin lightly. “I didn’t know those things still bothered you until now. I thought we’ve gone through this before…” Sure, they’ve mentioned it briefly before, but Jey never knew that Becca was still holding this close to her chest.

“I’m sorry, Jey. I’m so, so sorry.” Becca wasn’t the type of person to say those words so easily. You usually have to fight with her just to get her to apologize, and even if she knows she’s clearly in the wrong, she’d still be unwilling to say those damned words, stubborn and unrelenting. But dear god, why was she so willing to let her walls down when it comes to Jey? Why did she keep on showing vulnerability around her? Becca couldn’t understand. “I… I don’t deserve you,” she weakly whispered, knowing well that Jey had already put this issue past them.

Jey watched Becca struggle with her feelings, her heart aching at the sight before her. She’d never imagined Becca, the mean, abrasive Becca, to show this magnitude of emotions to her.

“Maybe you don’t…” Jey replied slowly, making Becca look up at her. “But even so, do you think that would change the way I treat you or how I feel about you?” She paused. “Even if you don’t believe it, you deserve to be happy, Becca. And I’ll do anything to make that happen.” Her eyes were full of sincerity and something more, Becca couldn’t put her finger on it. It was too soon to tell but, was it… love?

“Come here.” Jey cupped Becca’s face with her hands and leaned forward to kiss her. The sudden pressure of Jey’s lips on Becca’s was dizzying, and it was only because Jey’s hands held her steady that she didn’t break contact. Her lips were warm, placing soft and gentle kisses that seemed to devour every scrap intelligence from Becca’s mind, constant and reassuring.

Jey pulled back after a long moment, breathless. She tangled her fingers in Becca’s blonde tresses, leaning forward to rest their heads together. Becca’s eyes were still closed, and a great deal of color returned to her cheeks.

“Jey…” Becca started, opening her eyes. “You… Christ, you. I…” she pulled back a little and swallowed a lump in her throat, looking straight into Jey’s eyes, unbelieving yet grateful. She didn’t see the point in arguing with Jey anymore. She was so emotionally drained.

“I meant what I said before, Becca,” Jey said, her voice slightly hoarse with emotion. “That I cared about you… You’re just. Ugh. You just make things so hard sometimes.” Jey laughed lightly, stroking Becca’s cheek affectionately.

Becca snorted softly, pressing an exhausted kiss against Jey’s cheeks as her fingers combed through Jey’s hair. She couldn’t believe how this girl could stand her, she’d just taken them both on a roller coaster of emotions after all.

There was a long silence, both giving each other meaningful looks full of raw emotion. Becca buried her face against Jey’s neck, loving the way Jey’s arms wrapped around her in a sweet, comforting embrace.  

 A sudden beep cut through the silence.

“Crap,” Jey said quietly, looking over towards the source of the sound. She frowned.

“What?”

“My laptop died.”

Forgive me if you guys found this piece unamusing, too lengthy, or whatever. Like I said, I’ve never written ANYTHING of this kind in my entire life, so please bear with me if you found a lot of errors and flaws. I tried my best though.

#oh dear god i hope this isnt horrible #becca #becca x mc #the freshman #the sophomore #choices #playchoices #my fanfics #play choices femslash week #play choices #my work

[dust-between-the-stars]

Dreaming On Your Feet

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is one of the newest company members of the Rifthold Ballet Theatre, and she is eager to make all of her dreams a reality. She has the talent, the ambition, the walls no one can get past, and the thick skin that no one can get under. Except for new principal dancer Rowan Whitethorn. He's arrogant, talented, and infuriating - and they just might have more in common than they think. . .

I had the idea for a Throne of Glass AU set in the world of a ballet company, and this is the result! Enjoy!

Next Chapter

Chapter One: First Day

It began like any other day at the studio.

Aelin’s nimble, practiced fingers twisted the last section of hair and pinned it up into place into the rest of her bun.

She looked at her handiwork in the mirror.

Except today was the farthest from “any other day.”

It was her first day as a full-fledged company member of the Rifthold Ballet Theatre.

She had worked her entire life for today.  All the hard work, excruciating pain, blood, sweat, and blisters had earned her a place in the company.

Aelin look at her eyes in the mirror, turquoise-blue with an inner ring of gold, expertly lined with black eyeliner.  She spoke to her reflection the words that had become a sort of lifeline for her, ever since –

“I will not be afraid,” she said, quietly but firmly.  She slung her bag over her shoulder and strode out of the dressing room toward the studio.

* * *

Aelin’s heart pounded when she entered the studio.  She had used this studio for class and rehearsals when she was with the apprentice company, but this time was so much different.

She scanned the room looking for a place at the barre.  She had had her pick of spots when she was with the apprentice company, but now. . .

There were principal dancers here.  Dancers she had watched, studied, and idolized from a very young age.  They always stood in the same spots together, like a pack.

A pack of wolves, Aelin thought with a nervous swallow. She was the rookie, the new girl; the one to be looked down upon.

And underestimated.

A totally different thought clanged through her.

I belong here.

If she had been chosen, then she had deserved it. And no one could take that away from her, not even higher-ranking dancers.

And since today was her first day, she would be sure to make an impression.

“Aelin!”

She smiled when she saw Aedion get up from rolling out his quads to head straight for her, lifting her in a bone-crushing hug.  He was her cousin, and they had both been brought up at the same studio.  Aedion was now in his second season as a soloist, and he always had a fantastic attitude, matched by his work ethic.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said with a grin, setting her down. “Took you long enough.”

“I think you mean, ‘took them long enough’?” Aelin shot back.

Aedion held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Hey, if it was my call, you’d have been here at least a year ago after that piece Chaol choreographed for you guys.  Seriously, you were amazing in it.”

Aelin shifted her weight, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “It was a great piece,” she said, hoping her cousin picked up on her hint to end the conversation about Chaol.

Luckily, he did. “I saved you a spot, if you’re okay standing over here,” he said, leading her to a barre near the piano.  A lump formed in Aelin’s throat as a memory rose to her chest, of a carefree smile that shone like the black wood of the piano –

The elegant woman sitting beside it, smiling warmly as she stood to greet her, banished the ghost of her memory.

“Nehemia!” Aelin exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her friend.  Nehemia was now in her third year as a soloist, likely to be promoted to principal soon.  She and Aelin had spent a few years in the second company together, but Nehemia had always been a little bit ahead, a little more mature.  In contrast –

“That’s fine, don’t give me a hug.”

Aelin peered over Nehemia’s shoulder to see Lysandra standing at the same barre, her beautiful features contorted into an exaggerated pout.  Nehemia laughed as Aelin broke from her to hug Lysandra.  It was Lysandra’s first year as a company member as well, and Aelin was glad to have a fellow rookie, a friend in the same boat.

Suddenly Aedion moved between them, taking over to hug Lysandra.  Lysandra threw her head back and giggled. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought you meant me,” Aedion said, the twinkle in his eye evident.  He and Lysandra had been dating for two years now, and Aelin was happy to see both of them so happy.

Lysandra smacked him playfully on the arm. “Behave yourself,” she scolded, pointed to the black granite rolling pin that was lying on the floor. “Go back to rolling out. You were complaining about your quads all break.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aedion saluted, giving Aelin a wink before plopping back down onto the floor and resuming his roll-out.

Aelin set her bag at the end of the barre, taking the place behind Aedion and across from Nehemia.  She looked at her phone to check the time, and there was a half-hour until class.  She looked over the large, airy studio one more time before popping her headphones into her ears, beginning her pre-class routine.

She laid flat on her back, doing some easy breathing exercises to focus her breath.  Then she moved on to some crunches and planks to engage her core muscles.  She flipped onto her stomach and stretched into a cobra position, before lying on her stomach to do some turnout work.  She finished her routine with some stretches, easing into her splits: right, left, and center.  Shutting off her music and tucking her phone back into her bag, Aelin stood up and did some leg swings.

She heard Nehemia’s voice break into her concentration. “Wow, you’ve really gained some discipline in the past couple of years, haven’t you?” She looked up to see Nehemia smiling at her with approval.

Aelin shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, when it’s all you have. . .”

She trailed off as the studio door opened.  Her head shot up, expecting the ballet mistress to enter and start class. But it wasn’t the ballet mistress.

She recognized her old friend Dorian, who was starting his first season as a principal dancer. But behind him was someone she definitely did not know.

He was a couple of inches taller than Aedion, which made him the tallest male dancer in the room.  Yet despite his height, there was power and strength radiating from him.  His evident muscle was a bit bulkier in comparison to Dorian’s lean gracefulness, but the new guy had a cool elegance about him, as though he could coat the very room in frost if he wished it.

Cool elegance that looked very much like arrogance.

His short, silver hair gleamed in the morning sun that streamed through the wall of the studio that was all windows.  He had brilliant green eyes that seemed to be frosted over, eyes with which he surveyed the studio.  Lines of a tattoo were visible above the collar of his warmup jacket.

Aelin found herself watching him, not even realizing she was holding her breath as his eyes passed over her. They seemed to linger on her for a split second before moving on.

Aelin seethed. He had looked through her as though she were another window on the wall.

“Who is that?” Lysandra whispered to Nehemia as the three of them leaned over their legs that were draped on the barre.

“I think his name is Rowan Whitethorn,” Nehemia answered just as quietly. “He just joined this year as a principal from Doranelle’s company. Rumor has it he wasn’t happy with the way things were being run.”

Aelin had never seen him dance, but he was the star male of Doranelle Ballet. Something must have really been bad if he left the prestige and renown behind.  But something about him rubbed her the wrong way. “So Lord Whitethorn decided to go slumming here and grace us all with his presence?” Aelin muttered dryly. “What an honor.”

Nehemia shot her a look. “Aelin, please,” she said.  Dorian and Rowan took up spots at the barre right next to them.  Nehemia turned Aelin’s attention to doorway, where the ballet mistress and accompanist were entering the room. “You’ve only got one chance to make a first impression.”

#throne of glass #ballet #rowaelin #fanfic #alternate universe #this is what happens when you're a ballet dancer who loves ToG #sarah j maas #aelin #rowan #aedion #lysandra #nehemia #dorian #chaol #rifthold #dreaming on your feet #tog

[khaleesimaka]

Cherry Bomb

Here’s my 2nd entry for Reverb 2017. 

I had the pleasure of working with @nori-wings whose art you find here and @soundofez whose version fic can be found here. Please check them out and leave them nice comments ❤︎

Summary: A year has passed since Soul and Maka broke up when she proposes they go back to being friends like they were before. The only problem is being friends is hard when you're still in love. College Exes AU.

Read on FFN or AO3 or below.

“Would you like to buy some flowers or chocolates for your special someone?”

Soul blinked down at the girl in front of him. She barely reached his shoulders, her dark hair tied in twin pigtails, and a blindingly bright smile. In either hand she held the two previously mentioned items, lifting them as if tempting him to pick one. A beautiful set of chocolates in a very pink box paired with red and white carnations beamed up at him in a dazzling mix of colors to celebrate the holiday. He should have known to avoid the quad during Valentine’s season considering he never partook in the annual sweetheart sale the student clubs put on.

Usually when he walked across the quad, people ignored and bypassed him thanks to the permanent scowl etched on his face and the pissed off glare he gave them. It was part of his charm; something everyone who had known him for the last two years had associated with him no matter if he were walking alone or with someone else. He was proud of his reputation. It gave him a moment of peace when he left the confines of his dorm.

Except, for some odd reason this girl had the balls to approach him and even had the audacity to ask if he wanted to buy something. Since when did Soul Evans buy anything from the clubs?

Then his gaze dropped to the badge placed over her heart, and his own gave a traitorous lurch. It was the same club she was a part of; the one she had created their first year in college; the one she had hounded him down in the dorms for when he refused to put his signature on her petition. The same club she would have never tried to form had they not met. Seeing the badge now, it’s generic Protect the Environment slogan arching over a tree, twisted his stomach and left his chest heavy.

It stirred old memories within. Opened old wounds he had tried to heal since the break up.

“I’m gonna pass,” he said, pushing past her.

“A-are you sure? You don’t wanna give your girlfriend something? I’m sure Maka would--”

He growled under his breath at the mention of her name and roughly pulled out his phone to drown himself in the cool tunes of Miles Davis. Anything to pry the memory of her out of his mind.

Close to a year had passed since him and Maka broke up, and somehow she still managed to wiggle her way into his life no matter how much he rathered she didn’t. It was worse enough he still lived in the same dorm as her and knew her schedule, he didn’t need to be reminded of her on his way back from class. He didn’t need to be reminded how in love with her he still was even after spending so long telling himself he wasn’t. He didn’t need to be reminded of the past he shared with her every time he turned around.

Unfortunately for him, though, he wasn’t going to get off that easily apparently.

Everyone said falling in love was easy, but they never mentioned how hard it was to fall out of it.

Then again, it was what he deserved for how badly he fucked up.

“May I inquire why you insist on coming to my room after your morning class is over?” Wes asked in way of greeting when Soul walked into his dorm room and collapsed on his bed. “Just because I’m your brother, it doesn’t give you the right to just waltz in, you know. I could’ve been fucking someone.”

“Your room is close to the main doors,” Soul said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“It wouldn’t kill you to walk an extra ten steps to your dorm.”

“Probably would. Have you ever seen 1000 Ways to Die? Pretty sure there’s an episode about it.”

“Or maybe it has something to do with a certain someone leaving her dorm at this exact time,” Wes teasingly commented. “I would imagine she’s heading out the door right now. If you hurry and leave, you can probably catch her and have a chat with her. Maybe talk things out so you don’t hide out here anymore.”

“Nice try, but she doesn’t wanna talk. I don’t wanna talk. We broke up. We both moved on. Hakuna matata, the past is in the past, and all that other Disney bullshit,” Soul waved off, flipping himself over on the bed so he was staring at the ceiling instead of smothering himself in Wes’s pillow. Dying from the fumes of Calvin Klein cologne wasn’t the way he planned to go.

“We? I didn’t know we were speaking French.”

“You know what I mean, Wes,” Soul growled. “Maka,” he ignored the sting in his heart from speaking her name, “and I have both moved on. Stop acting like there’s something else ‘cause there isn’t.”

The sound of a chair squeaking told Soul his brother was giving him a sly smile with her perfectly plucked brows arched and tilt of the head for added effect. The same expression his brother had given him since the incident and every time the topic of his ex-girlfriend was brought up. The one that told anyone who knew Wesley Theodore Evans well enough that he knew the details of what had happened in great detail and was practically bursting to meddle in his brother’s love life.

“Oh, come off it, little brother. You and I both know that’s a bold-faced lie ‘cause if it was true, you wouldn’t be in here hiding out. Would you?”

Silence fell between them save for the low hum of the air conditioner. Soul bit the inside of his cheek so his mind could focus on another pain besides the hurt searing his heart. He had managed to go a month without wallowing in his own heartbreak, and he wasn’t going to break his streak no matter what.

Maka had moved on from him. He could do the same.

“I’m not hiding,” Soul said, his voice low and quiet. “I’m tired. It’s not my fault your room is closer to the doors than mine.”

“Soul.”

He flinched at the rough, sharp tone of his name coming from his brother’s mouth. It had been a while since Wes had to reprimand him for anything, and Soul had almost forgotten what it sounded like. Compared to their parents, Wes’s scolding was always ten times worse with the most effect on Soul which was more likely because out of everyone in the world, Wes was the one person he never wanted to disappoint.

A few seconds later, Wes was standing akimbo over Soul, his mouth arched down in a frown that didn’t suit his pretty boy face at all and brows furrowed. Dread prickled over his chest at the sight of it, and he knew he had fucked up. He probably should have gave in and admitted to the truth when he had the chance. Whatever Was was about to say, it was definitely worse than succumbing to defeat.

While Wes was the funny, teasing brother who seized every opportunity to embarrass Soul, he was also the kind of brother who picked his words carefully and knew exactly what to say for the right effect.

Sighing, Wes closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “I get it, Soul. I do. You loved Maka -- still love her -- and don’t wanna see her walking to class, but this isn’t healthy.”

Brown, tired eyes snapped to red before he continued.

“Not seeing Maka or talking about her is gonna make it harder for you to get over her. You two broke up, and you realized it was a mistake only to have her reject you so you hurting is normal. But you gotta get over this instead of hiding out and wallowing in your own pain.”

“I’m not wallowing.”

“You are, and you know,” Wes said, pointing a finger at him. “It’s been six months, Soul. We’ve had a whole semester and winter break for you to distance yourself from her and get over her, but you live in the same dorm as her. Hell, she goes to the same school. You two are bound to see each other at some point. It’s better if you get passed this awkward situation so you can live your life normally.”

Wes fell silent for a second. His gaze pulled away from Soul’s which was his tell that he knew something his brother didn’t, and it urged Soul to know what. Especially if it had to do with the topic of Maka.

“Or maybe you should talk to Maka. Apologize for breaking up with her and for your outburst. Maybe there’s a chance she wants to be friends or something,” Wes shrugged.

Soul’s interest in what his brother knew crumbled.

Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t have anything to do with Maka and talking things out.

“Sure,” Soul snorted. “I’ll go talk to her. Right after I discover another universe where Maka and I aren’t broken up ‘cause that’s the only way she’d talk to me.”

Pushing himself off the bed, Soul checked his phone for the time and determine if the coast was clear or not before standing up and stretching. His brother, for all his good intentions, was in the wrong, and he knew it. Maka didn’t want to talk to him. She had cut him off from every social media platform they were on, and he was more than sure she had his name on her phone as some profanity so she knew if he ever tried to contact her. They were done, over, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

“I thought you were gonna give me some brotherly advice, but now you’re just speaking from your ass,” Soul grumbled, picking his backpack up from where he had dropped it. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“I wasn’t letting you do anything. You invited yourself into my room,” Wes mumbled under his breath. Louder, he said, “I’m not speaking from ass about Maka, though. I heard from a reliable source she might still have feelings for you.”

Ignoring the small crack of hope in his chest, Soul shook his head and waved his brother’s words away. “Whoever your source is, they’re lying. I was there for the break up, the incident in August, and I know Maka doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

He hated how soft his voice went at the end, the pain stinging across his heart at his own words, and prayed Wes would pretend along with him it hadn’t happened.

The clap on his shoulder and light squeeze of his brother’s hand told him otherwise.

“I really think you should listen to me just this once, little brother. Muster up the courage and talk to Maka. It might go smoother than it did before.”

For a split second, he almost considered to do exactly so.

Maybe it was the sincerity in Wes’s words or the simple fact he was older and wiser than his little brother, but Soul almost considered to talk to Maka about the break up.

Almost.

Sometimes, even with how much more knowledgeable Wes was about the world than he, Soul knew what the the right thing to do was and what wasn’t in certain situations. And in this particular situation, he knew better about than Wes did.

Between him and Wes, Soul knew Maka better, and he knew if he went to talk to her, she’d only ignore him or break his heart more through her words, and his need to stay away from embarrassing situations was far greater than how much the break up was killing him inside. It was best if he continued what he was doing. He had survived this long, at least. Another year of averting Maka’s path wasn’t about to hurt him more.

“I’ll see you later,” Soul said before leaving his brother’s dorm.

After a day filled with two more classes and one nap, Soul found himself in Liz’s dorm room.

He tried to keep his focus on her half the bedroom to save himself from falling victim of old memories once again, but it was more difficult than he expected. Maybe it was the familiar green stuffed llama sitting on top of her bookshelf or the contrast of her need to be impeccably neat and organized compared to Liz’s messy and disarray half of the room. Or maybe it was the doodles Maka drew on her white board to help motivate her, so adorable and comforting they brought a smile to his face.

Either way, Soul’s gaze continuously drifted over to her side of the room. His heart tugged and coiled at the contentment it brought to him. So familiar and warm, but so far away at the same time.

Soul hated how much he missed the before.

“See anything you like?” Liz asked as she handed him the CD he came to retrieve.

“Not really,” Soul said, pulling his gaze away from the framed photo of Maka and Liz. He remembered a time when it was him in the picture instead of Liz. “I thought you said you cleaned your room.”

“I did. I put my dirty clothes in the hamper so I can wash them later. Technically that is cleaning.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to at least make up your bed or put your school shit where it goes,” Soul muttered.

“God, you sound like my roommate.” Liz’s smirk irked him more than it should have. “Why should I make up my bed if I’m just gonna sleep in there later? ‘Sides, you’re one to talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really wanna give cleanliness tips when your room looks like a tornado crashed through it?”

Liz sat down on her bed prompting for Soul to take the chair at her desk.

“That’s mostly ‘cause my roommate is a tornado,” Soul sighed. Waving the CD, he added, “Thanks for letting me borrow this, by the way. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.”

“And let me guess, torrents and Youtube were all bogus since they copyrighted the shit out of the music before releasing it.”

“I mostly meant I couldn’t find it in stores or iTunes since it was a limited release. I don’t like downloading music illegally. You know that, Liz.”

“Right. How could I forget Mister I’m Too Cool For You is actually afraid to do anything illegal.” She scoffed. “Like ripping music from Youtube will actually get you jail time. No one cares about that kinda shit, Soul.”

His only response was a shrug and slight shake of his head. Soul was fully aware of Liz’s watchful eyes as he once again found his own drifting to Maka’s side of the room. Seeing it now and remembering their past together, he wondered how he ever thought she wasn’t anything except a daddy’s girl. How he couldn’t see passed the bubblegum pink bedspread to notice the leather jacket in the background and realize Maka had always been more than what she seemed to be.

If only he wasn’t such an idiot back then. They’d probably still be together.

“She won’t be back for another hour so you still have time to kill,” Liz said, drawing Soul out of his thoughts. When his gaze met hers again, she shrugged and added, “She’s starting her tutoring sessions for Stein’s biology class today, and apparently the freshman are nervous as fuck for their first quiz so she wants to help ease some of their worries.”

“Thanks, but I didn’t care to know,” he sighed in an attempt to appear aloof on the matter. Though, the knot in his stomach did loosen slightly.

“As if I’d believe that, Soul. I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re bluffing. I’m not an idiot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Brow quirked, Liz said, “Soul, you do realize everyone close to you knows you’re still attracted to Maka, right? You act like a love sick puppy when anyone mentions her.”

“I’m not a love sick puppy,” he muttered under his breath.

“And I’ve heard from a very reliable source you hide out in Wes’s room every Tuesday and Thursday morning ‘cause you don’t wanna see her. You’re obviously avoiding her which is hilarious since you’re the one who broke up with her. Guess you didn’t take well to her rejecting you back in August, huh?”

“First, I’d appreciate it if you and Wes didn’t talk about me when you’re fucking each other,” Soul said. “Second, I’m not avoiding her. I go to Wes’s room ‘cause it’s closer to the doors than mine! It’s not my fault he decided to be an RA for our dorm! And, third, let’s not talk about what happened in August.” He ran a tired hand through his hair. “I’d rather not be reminded of that, okay?”

“You mean you’d rather not remember how she totally ignored you when you stood over there like James Dean,” she jutted her chin toward the door, “and asked if she wanted to maybe get back together.”

Soul growled under his breath to play down the twisting feeling in his gut at the memory.

Liz let out an airy laugh. “Your face turned so red when you realized she wasn’t going to respond. You were so embarrassed.”

“I came here for a CD. Not to be embarrassed.”

“Soul,” Liz placed her hand over his in the short distance between them and smiled. “I love you, you know that, and you’re like a brother to me. So trust me when I tell you, what you did was stupid and you probably could’ve gone about things another way for different results.”

A small flicker of hope sparked in his heart at her words.

“Maybe if you tried to at least be friends with Maka, she’d say yes this time,” Liz added.

Just like that, the hope died.

Withdrawing his hand from under hers, Soul smirked and shook his head. “God, you need to stop hanging around my brother. You sound just like him.”

Frustration flashed across blue as Liz scowled.

“Maybe if you listened to one of us, you wouldn’t have to mope around and hide out in his room! You know none of this isn’t healthy for you, Soul. You can’t live out the next year trying to avoid Maka every turn you make! You’re gonna make yourself sick. Again.”

He opened his mouth to give a snide remark, but came up short because she was right.

Catching his silence, Liz continued. “I don’t want to break the trust Maka has with me, so all I’m going to say is maybe instead of going the direct get back together route, you should go the friend one. You and Maka were great when you were friends. It might be a nice do-over for you two.”

His gaze lifted to meet hers before falling to the floor again. The voice in his head screamed at him to ignore Liz and his brother and all their suggestions because they were wrong -- wrong, wrong, wrong -- while his heart spoke the opposite.

Deep down, he knew Liz was right.

Out of everyone in the dorm, she was the only one who knew Maka the best since they had been roommates since freshman year. Liz was the one Maka was closest to, the one she would confide to about her own secrets and worries, and Soul knew that. When they were dating, Maka had told Liz things he didn’t think she would and was teased about it mercifully the next day by the girl. She was the only person he could trust when it came to Maka.

“If it’ll change the topic, I’ll think about it,” Soul sighed. “Sound good?”

Her grin was almost devilish as she said, “Sounds good.”

About ten minutes before Maka was meant to return, Soul said his goodbye to Liz and left the dorm room.

He was halfway to his room when he heard the familiar twinkle of Maka’s laugh and his heart gave a warm lurch at the sound. Matters were made worse when his head popped up to see her waving to one of the freshman who lived in the dorm before turning to go down the same hall as him. His heart sunk when her smile disappeared upon seeing him, and the bile taste of disappointment crawled up his throat. Any hope he had felt earlier when talking to Liz vanished.

Somehow, he should have known everything the girl told him was a lie.

Liz, while she was her roommate, she didn’t know Maka either.

At least, she didn’t know Maka like Soul knew her. She didn’t know when Maka had the right mind to ignore someone and hate them, she did it with every fiber of her being. She didn’t know when Maka decided someone was utter trash, she kept them at a distance and never tried to make amends with them. Maka was the type of girl who held grudges, despised her father for years for cheating on her mama, and rarely, if ever, forgave anyone who broke her trust.

Soul assumed breaking up with someone without a warning or explanation filed into breaking their trust with them as well.

It was harder for him to breath as he felt his steps grow closer to Maka. Anxiety weighed heavily in his heart with each passing second, and his palms sweatier. The voice in his head told him to keep his attention to the floor, to only mark her shoes when she passed, but his gaze was more traitorous than he expected.

The moment they passed each other, red met green.

His heart clenched and heated at the same time, the hope from before flickering once again, but this time it didn’t extinguish right away. Unlike earlier with Wes and Liz, his wishful thinking wasn’t coming from a second party. It was from the actual thing, the actual person he needed confirmation from, because he knew Maka. If she hated him, she wouldn’t dare give him a second glance or any if she could help it, and she had looked at him.

Maka Albarn had given him a second glance.

She hated him, despised him with every fiber of her being.

All she wanted to do was gouge his pretty, bedroom eyes out and wipe the handsome smirk clear off his face for what he had done to her. Anger boiled deep in her belly like scorching water in a pot at the sight of him down the hall, and the memories of their together seared her mind like a hot iron. It was the hint of comfortable warmth beneath them that enraged her the most; the tug of her heart and tingle of her fingertips as she craved to smell him, touch him, feel him again.

But she refused to give in to temptation.

Soul Evans had hurt her. She trusted him, allowed him to fill the walls of her cold, dead heart for two years, and what did he do? He decided she wasn’t good enough and broke up with her. His explanation had been half-hearted at best, and the way he avoided her for weeks afterwards when she wanted to talk were the worst. Out of all the men her life, he was the last on the planet who deserved her forgiveness or for her to give him a second glance. Even if there was longing in his gaze the few seconds she caught it before walking down the hallway.

Still, even with rage roaring under her skin, Maka felt her heart tighten. Felt the way desire pricked her skin as she grew steadily closer to him; felt the heat of his body before he was a hair’s breadth away from her. She hated how he still held her heart in his hand.

Maka tried to keep her attention toward the ground as they passed, but her eyes, ever the traitor’s that they were, gave him a second glance, and her heart stuttered. She remembered the color of his better than anything else; how they watched her from across the room, how they softened when she spoke, how they drank up her body in the silence of the night. It was probably her most prominent memory of their relationship she had. Yet, she still wasn’t prepared when jade green locked onto wine red.

Growling to mask the feelings burrowing back to the surface, she pulled her gaze away from him and stared back down the hall to where her dorm was. She refused to busy herself with any thoughts of Soul Evans or why he had been down her hall instead of his own. Refused to turn around and call out his name, see if it still sounded, tasted, the same like so long ago.

He had hurt her. He didn’t deserve her.

He was the scum of the earth, she reminded herself as she slammed her dorm door shut. She swatted the stupid teddy bear he had given her off her bed trying to remember why she even kept it.

#soul eater #soulxmaka #soma fanfic #khalee writes

[quintaxels]

ROSTELECOM CUP REVIEW: Ladies

Here is the part two of the review! I know so close to Skate Canada!

But other than that, let’s get it on shall we?

LADIES:

Ladies has a way deeper field than men. I must admit I paid more attention to the ladies than any of the four disciplines on this event. Notable entries are the current World Champion Evgenia Medvedeva, Wakaba Higuchi, Carolina Kostner, Mirai Nagasu, Mariah Bell, Elena Radionova, and Kaori Sakamoto. Park So-youn withdrew weeks before along with Ivett Toth which is a shame considering this discipline would be a total bloodbath compared to me #SorryNotSorry

In the other news, what a wonderful line up to cry over with. Seriously I was already praying in the middle of an exam for my faves not to be underscored. I mean who doesn’t pray to the skating gods for their favs not to be underscored? Probably Eteri because no doubt she’ll perform witchcraft. Anyways let’s get on with the review with this format

Evgenia MEVEDEVA: GIRL I WAS SCREAMING WHEN I FOUND OUT SHE CHANGED HER FP FROM THE CLINICAL DEATH PROGRAM. A risky move but its for the better good. She must have hated that program so much. Sorry Averbukh better luck next time. But anyways, she was consistent-ish. Apparently the fall shook everyone more than her programs. Yep happens when you’re so consistent the Russian team isn’t impressed anymore. No offense.

Carolina KOSTNER: An experience I dare say. Like the kind of skating you can watch forever and ever without getting bored of it. Seriously her skating skills are on point although if I hear about Caro being underscored, I’m going to fight y’all.

Wakaba HIGUCHI: You mean Wakaba Hi-GUCCI (lol sorry Verit). Two almost perfect performances from her? Those lovely costumes that deserve its own post? Wakaba using her weakest jump in her EX while giving us a heart attack over the rest of her jumps? Girl what would I give to be able to witness this kind of beauty live? Also she keeps on getting better and better as the season progresses. Hopefully the JSF will select her along with Satoko or Mai. Damnit why does Japan have two spots for the ladies instead of three I hate Worlds 2017 judges bye.

Mirai NAGASU: HER. TRIPLE. AXEL. WILL. GIVE. ME. A. HEART. ATTACK. IF. SHE. LANDS. ONE. IN. COMPETITION. OH. MY. GOD. PLEASE. HELP. ME. In the other news, girl looks like she’s out for Medove’s blood. Following her great performance at Rostelecom, I’m sure USA is going to have a hard time deciding who they will send for the Olympic team. Oh and, is it too much to ask for her to land a jump on my face?

 Mariah BELL: This week on Mirai vs Mariah and girlie delivered a good program too. If I may add, I’m looking foward to her future performances as well.

Kaori SAKAMOTO: Following the disaster that is her Amelie program, she did well for her first senior Grand Prix. Disappointed with her program choices though. Please, never get a program from Benoit again. I’m also sad over her ditching Danse Macabre. Amelie is growing on me but its the costume making me commit crime. I might change my mind if she performs both programs clean though.

Elena RADIONOVA: Legends only. Shame I was actually rooting for her to make it to the podium but for some reason the skating gods hate me. (And for some reason Lena renders me speechless as always)

Elizabet TURSYNBAYEVA: I have few words for her. Clean 4S in a comp when? Quads aside, looks like TCC is doing wonders to her. Her third place finish at Autumn Classic was so underrated I broke down to tears like why do people keep on sleeping on her. Seriously girl keep up the good work I’m proud of you even if you’ll never see this.

Mae-Berenice MEITE: I LIVED FOR HER FEMINIST PROGRAM OKAY. Everyone go home she is the real winner of Rostelecom.

As for others, I am sorry that they are not as memorable although I’m sure all of them did their best. Special mention to Anastasia Galustyan for not returning my wig.

That’s all for today folks! ‘Til the next time!

P.S. Any volunteers to cut off ph0l harsh’s internet?

#figure skating #evgenia medvedeva #wakaba higuchi #carolina kostner #kaori sakamoto #mirai nagasu #mariah bell #elena radionova #elizabet tursynbaeva #mae-berenice meite #rostelecom cup 2017 #Ladies aka cause of death

[mnranger5]

Spring Ski Trip, Keystone, Colorado, 3/24/19 - 3/27/19

Here’s a fun fact.  Aaron and I planned a last minute, crazy-awesome ski trip to Colorado without ever actually talking to each other.  Yep.  No phone calls, or face to face visits.  Purely digital messaging!  Flights, rental car and hotels were booked simply with a text that said, ”Does this _________ (flight/hotel/rental car) work?”  The other responded with “Sure!”  Booked!   The entire trip was researched, debated and scheduled over text message.  We went back and forth on ski hills, lift tickets, ski rentals, and who’s checked bag was going to be the heaviest (Aaron won).  It wasn’t until we both arrived at the airport for our flight that we realized this was the first time we had actually spoken about the trip!  That’s where this story picks up….

3/24/19

Checking my bag at the airport was quite challenging.  After failing miserably at the self service kiosk, I was directed to Delta’s “Special Services” counter because the name on my ID (Jacob) did not match the name on my reservation (Jake).  Apparently when I booked, I used the autofill feature in my browser with defaults my name to Jake.  Oops.  Amateur mistake.  The gal at the counter told me I could have some troubles getting through security with my name being different on the boarding pass.  If security challenged it, there was no way I was getting on the flight.  I asked her if she could change it, and she said she was not allowed.  Seriously?  It’s a Delta reservation, and you can’t make a simple change to it?  Whatever.   I’ll take my chances with security.

As it turned out, security was a breeze.  Not even sure if they looked at the boarding pass.  They probably realized I was traveling with one of Minnesota’s Finest, and figured I must be legit.  We were on our way to the gate.  For this flight, Aaron was slotted in row 17.  Unfortunately, my seating assignement wasn’t as lucky.  Seat 36F for me.  We asked the gate agent if there were any seats available on the plane side by side.  She said we were in luck.  Sweet!  After a few key strokes, new boarding passes printed out.  Then we saw the assignments… 36E & 36F.  Come on!

There we were, 2nd to last row on the aircraft.  Cozying up with the restrooms and the less senior flight attendants.  We were so far back in the aircraft that we were immersed with the traditional back-of-the-bussers.  Aaron had “that guy” sitting in front of him that reclines his seat as soon as he sits down.  The flight attendants had to tell him place his seatback in the upright position prior to takeoff.  We also had “that guy” who insisted his carry-on would fit in the already full overhead compartment.  And it would be unfortunate if I didn’t give a shout out to that third guy rounding out our row.  After some quick pleasantries, he asked if Aaron and I were planning on doping it up in Colorado.  Seriously?  Is that the vibe we’re giving off?

We were wheels up at 8PM and it was a pretty smooth two hour ride until we broke through the cloud deck over Denver.  Aaron and I were trading war stories about bad turbulence we had experienced.  He was telling me about an international flight he had taken where the plane was shaking violently and people were terrified and screaming for their lives.  He was in the middle of his sentence about the plane experiencing these insane drops in altitude when at that exact same moment, our plane felt like it dropped 200 feet.  There were audible gasps among the passengers.  Aaron looked at me without missing a beat, and said, that’s the kind of drop I’m talking about!  The remaining approach into Denver was quite rocky, and reaffirmed why I will never sit in the back of the plane again.

We deplaned, grabbed our luggage and shuttled to the rental car counter within an hour of landing.  Aaron found an awesome deal on a Jeep Wrangler through Sixt.  Although the check-in at Sixt was a lengthy process, we were on the road heading for Keystone Resort by 11PM.  The nice little 2 hour drive would be much more eventful than either of us anticipated.

As we approached Loveland Pass on I-70, we hit flurries.  By the time we exited the Eisenhower Tunnel and headed down the back side of the pass, the flurries had turned to moderate snow making the roads slow, and a bit tricky.  Coming down the pass, we got stuck behind a couple of plows which slowed traffic down even more.

Once we arrived in Dillon, we were both hungry.  Subway and McDonald’s were both closed, along with everything else.  Afterall, it was 1AM.  Gas station snacks will have to do.  When leaving the gas station, Aaron pulled the Jeep onto Highway 6 toward the East.  

A half mile down the road, a police car stopped us.  “Evening fellas.  I’m Officer Mark with Silverthorne PD.”  In my head, I’m like, he obviously has no idea who he has pulled over here.  All Aaron has to do is tell him he is also a cop and this stop will be over in a jiffy.  But, Aaron played it super chill and handed over his license and the rental agreement.  Mark indicated we apparently made an illegal left turn out of the gas station onto Hwy 6.  Aaron told him we were from out of town didn’t see any no-left-turn signs.   He gave us a warning, and sent us on our way.  We finally arrived and checked to River Run Resort Condos at 2AM (3AM CST).

3/25/19

Aaron was up at 5AM, maybe earlier, fetching coffee and enjoying the ski village at dawn.  He was so excited to get on the hill.  On the other hand, I, was sleeping like a baby.  I didn’t roll out of bed until after 7AM.

By 8, we were getting our rental skis at Christy Sports and back to the hill at 8:30.  It was time to tackle the mountain.  Keystone is a Vail-owned mountain, and boasts a family friendly hill similar to also Vail-owned, Breckenridge, just on a smaller scale.  I skied Breck about 10 years ago and from what I recall, Breck and Keystone differ mainly in mountain steepness.  Breck’s blues were rollers with steep sections in between flatter terrain.  Keystone’s blues seemed quite a bit more aggressive to me with prolonged steeps that had virtually no roll or breaks.  However, it’s probably best to take my opinion with a grain of salt.  My 40 year old body looks nothing like my 30 year old body and my surgically repaired knee from 2016 was getting it’s first real mountain skiing test.  Regardless of the mountain, or color of the runs, this trip was bound to be more difficult than my 2009 trip.

We took the River Run Gondola up to Dercum Mtn (11,640ft) and started off with a warm up run down Spring Dipper.  This run, took us 9 minutes boasting a vertical drop of 1,600ft to the Motezuma Express chairlift.  The air was much thinner than we were used to.  Carving up the fresh corduroy at 30 mph was like slicing butter with a hot knife.  So satisfying, but, oh so tiring.  We stopped twice in the middle of the run to catch our breath, and take in the beautiful scenery.

Once we got back to the top of Dercum, we took the Outpost Gondola over to North Peak (11,660ft).  

From here  Aaron and I made quick work of Anticipation, another blue run.  Anticpation was an great run – it had a couple of short steep areas that were steeper than any black diamonds I’ve skied at home.

We then road the Outback Express to Outback Peak (11,980ft), the tallest of the three mountains making up Keystone.  This peak was a bucket list location for Aaron.  Aaron had been dreaming of CAT skiing, and was a primary reason for him wanting to go on this trip.  CAT skiing is a form a guided backcountry exploration, taking you away from the borders of controlled ski areas to ride through untouched powder. Rather than using a helicopter to access the backcountry, a snowcat acts as your lift, which makes it far cheaper than heli-skiing for an equally heroic outcome.  

As we quickly found out, the $10 snowcat rides only ran on weekends.  It was a Monday.  So Aaron did exactly what I NEVER would have done.  Aaron took his skis off, and hiked UP the mountain into the backcountry.  Who needs a snowcat when you are conditioned as well as this guy!

So, while Aaron was off playing in the South Bowl black diamonds, I decided I’d do a nice little blue run off the front of North Peak called Porcupine.  

This run was about as comfortable for me as coming into contact with an actual Porcupine.  It kicked my butt.  I realize it was just a blue, but seriously, I felt like I was extreme skiing down a sheer wall of ice in a Red Bull promo video.  I never wiped out, but I easily stopped 5+ times to gather my composure, and self-diagnose myself with COPD.  I needed an oxygen tank or a beer….  In what felt like an eternity, I finally made it down Porcupine and took the Wayback Lift up to Outback Peak.  I had a well-deserved date with the Outpost Bar.  A $12 beer never tasted so rewarding.

About 15 minutes later, Aaron joined me and told me all about his backcounty journey!  Apparently, the wind and trees made his descent so intense he had no idea which way to go.  Luckily, all hills eventually lead to the bottom, and he found his way there.  He said it was absolutely worth the 1 mile uphill hike and terror of dropping straight down into a bowl with no real sense of direction as he blazed fresh tracks in untouched terrain.  He even mentioned he could go home at that moment and be satisfied with the trip.  He did what he came here to accomplish.  Super cool for him!

We had a quick lunch before taking the gondola back across to Dercum Mountain.  While Aaron skied the icy downhill blue known as Mozart, I skied a couple more blue runs on the front side of the hill called Paymaster and Wild Irishman.  Both were great rolling blues with some serious steeps but almost as wide as a football field.

We met again at Dercum Peak and skied a couple more blue runs, Spring Dipper (2nd time) and Jackwacker.  I was absolutely beat by this point.  My quads, calves and knees were burning.  But this wasn’t my biggest problem.  I had lost Aaron on the Jackwacker run.  Weren’t we supposed to meet at the the Montezuma Lift?  Or, maybe we were supposed to ski to the base of the mountain?  Ugh, I have no idea, the altitude is getting to my memory!  I hopped on the lift and headed back to the top hoping we’d meet there.  Once I got to the top of the mountain, Aaron texted saying he went to the base of the mountain, but was on his way.  Whew.

We rendezvoused at the top of the hill.  Both exhausted.  Both ready to call it quits for the day.  We then skied our first green run of the day, Schoolmarm all the way down to Ina’s Way which took us straight down to our condo in the mountain village.

For the day, we skied 14.3 miles with a total vertical of 12,177ft.  My top speed was 31mph. 

We had a quick bite to eat at Kickapoo Tavern while recalling various moments throughout the day.  It was absolutely beautiful out, with temps in the upper 40’s, so Aaron and I decided to walk around the village and see what we gifts we could bring home for the families.  Most of our time was spent in the Keystone gift shop, which was in the midst of a 50% off going out of business sale.  Sweet. Little did we know what kind of debacle we were getting ourselves into.   We got hats, shirts, ¼ zips, and stuffed animals before heading back to the condo.  Luckily, Aaron and I both tried on our shirts at the condo, because they both ended up being a size too small.  So we went back to the store.  Aaron was in luck.  They had the size he needed.  I wasn’t so lucky.  I had to pick out a different shirt.  So I did.  But, the price was different than the first shirt I had purchased, and due to their going out of business status, they could not offer a refund on the price difference.  So the gentleman told me to basically pick out a second shirt in the store (anything I wanted) and he would just throw it in free of charge.  Seriously?  So I did.  What a bargain.  Headed back to the condo.  Once again, tried on the shirts…BOTH of mine were gigantic.  They were XXXL.  That is not the sizes I chose!  Did he put the wrong sizes in the bag?  So off I went back to the store for a third time.  The employee laughed when I told him, the shirts were WAY too big.  He recommended I try them on in the store before leaving this time.  So I did.  Both fit.  I never let go of those sizes and walked out the door.

Next stop was the hot tub.  Our complex had several outdoor hottubs, which were all very crowded.  While I was being a shopaholic, Aaron scouted out a outdoor pool complex a short walk from our condo that was much less busy.  

We dipped into the well deserved hot tub and conversed with another couple from Boston.  Aaron and I were still trying to decide on which hill we’d ski the following day.  We thought we had it narrowed down to two: Loveland or A-Basin. They suggested we try out A-Basin if we were up for skiing steeps.  That was the third recommendation we had on the trip for A-Basin.   The couple took off after 20 minutes, and another younger family from the Denver area joined us in the hot tub.  After chatting with them for awhile, we asked them for a ski hill recommendation.  They said, without a doubt, Copper Mountain, which is just a short 25 minute drive down the interstate.  With as much as they talked up the skiing, nightlife, and overall atmosphere of the mountain, you’d of thought they worked for Copper.  They’ve been skiing the Denver area hills for years and Copper was their hands down favorite.  So, the decision was made: we were skiing Copper Mountain the next day.  We made a late night stop at Pizza on the Run before heading back to the condo and shutting it down for the night.

3/26/19

We were on the road heading toward Copper Mountain by 8AM.  The drive was beautiful as we passed through the valleys of mountains towering above us.  The remnants of recent avalanches along side the interstate were reminders of what a blockbuster winter this has been for the ski hills of Colorado.

We arrived at Copper and were at the base of the hill by 9AM picking up lift tickets.  Good thing we ordered them the night before!  The advance purchase price was $99.  The window price was $189.  Geez.

We road the American Eagle lift up to Solitude Station before taking a steep little blue run called Rhapsody over to the Coppertone run and finishing on the Carefree run.  This may have been my favorite run of the day.  It was a much easier run that what we had done yesterday, and seemed to still be giving my legs a solid workout.  Aaron and I once again stopped a couple times down the hill just to catch our breath.

Our next lift was the American Flyer lift, which took us to the High Point and Woodwinds runs.  These runs were all much easier than the previous day, and exactly what my legs needed.  Each of the runs was perfectly groomed creating some awesome conditions as the temps warmed rapidly into the 50’s.

The third lift of the day was Union Creek where we used the Minor Matter run to traverse over to the Timberline Express.  At the top of Timberline, we were able to take the steeper blue traverse, Upper Sluice, over to the Rondezvous chairlift.  This lift sent us up above the tree line.  Other than Heavenly at Lake Tahoe, I don't think I have ever been on a more picturesque ski hill.  It was breathtaking, both in scenery and altitude...

I took a few tree runs down around Union Park which was absolutely awesome.  

Meanwhile, Aaron decided to get aggressive and ski into the Copper Bowl. We met back at the top of Roundezvous before skiing the mountain run top to bottom via Wheeler Creek to Coppertone to Upper Skid Road to Skid Road.  The run must have taken nearly 20 minutes.  I was wiped.  Physically drained.  We stopped to eat lunch in the chalet - along with everybody else on the hill.

I had every intention of going back out on the hill after lunch, but my body was screaming for a relaxing chair in the sun.  My body would end up winning that battle.

After lunch, Aaron made his way over to the Storm King lift which took him to Copper Peak (12,441ft).  

He skied the back bowl for an hour before returning down the front side of the mountain and calling it a day for himself as well.  For the day, we skied 10 miles with a total vertical of 6,883ft.  My top speed was 38mph.

At 2PM, we left the ski hill, with the top off the Jeep.  

Temps were in the 50’s, and it would only get warmer.  The temp in Denver was in the 70’s.

After a quick pit stop at Keystone to drop off our rental skis, we decided to take the Highway 6 Loveland Pass route.  This route is the highest mountain pass in all of Colorado and is regularly closed in the winter due to treacherous conditions on its steep grades and hairpin turns.  In the 70’s, the Eisernhower Tunnel was built along I-70 so that motorists could cut through the Loveland Pass as opposed to going over Loveland Pass on Hwy 6.    Once over the pass, Hwy 6 junctures with I-70 at the Loveland Ski area.  From there, we were off to Denver.  

After some rough rush hour traffic, we were able to get checked into the hotel before making our way to dinner.  We had reservations at The Buckhorn Exchange, Denver’s oldest restaurant.  On countless occasions, Dad has recounted his experience going to the Buckhorn and eating exotic game.  So, I guess you can say Dad is responsible for us dining here!  It’s located just southwest of downtown.

This place was exactly what I had pictured from my Dad’s stories.  It was very old fashioned, with hundreds of animal heads and stuffed wild game plastered to the wall.  

Among the more common deer and fish mounts were a zebra, moose, cougar, bear, raptor, monkey, fox, elk, bison, antelope, ox, baby seal and even the sacred white buffalo…and probably many more that were lost in the clutter.

We were seated in high-back wrap around leather thrones, fit for kings.  The menu is chalk full of American steakhouse favorites, with some wild game like bison, duck, quail and elk.  

My desires of having and ostrich sandwich or a fillet of kangaroo would have to wait until I take a trip to Australia.  Aaron and I both ordered the special, which was the bison and elk tenderloin combo.  The bison was outstanding, and the elk was good…just a different taste I’m not used to.  

After dinner we did a little end of trip housekeeping by returning the Jeep to Sixt and catching the shuttle back to the hotel.  

In order to make the 4AM airport shuttle in the morning, we were up at 3:30.  I was so tired.  Once again, I had explain to the gate agent the story of Jake vs. Jacob on my boarding pass, and once again, there was nothing she could do to make the change on her end.  She was certain I would be stopped by security and not allowed to proceed into the terminal.  As Aaron and I waited in line at the security checkpoint, we analyzed the three TSA agents checking boarding passes.  Which one looked dirty?  Which would give me the best odds of getting through security!?!  We decided the chick on the end cared about her job less than the other two.  She was rubber stamping every boarding pass being presented to her.  She would either save, or wreck my day.  As I approached her, I greeted her with a friendly “Good Morning.”  I think that gesture may have hurt more than it helped.  It seemed to make her think twice about me.  She glanced at the boarding pass.  Then my driver’s license.  What was probably less than 5 seconds seemed like an eternity.  In my head, I was playing out a scenario where she probably believed I was some kind of terrorist ready to wreak havoc in the skies.  She interrupted my thoughts with, “Thanks Jacob.”  That was easy.

Our flight was at 6AM, and once again, our seats were split up.  We tried sweet talking the gate agent to switching our seats, but she was having none of it.  I ended up with 17F and Aaron scored an exit row seat.  The flight home was fast.  Flight time was only an hour and 40 minutes.  Once we touched down in Minny, we grabbed the luggage and headed our separate ways.  But not for long.  The Big Bass Bash is in one month, and we’ll be heading to the Ozarks in search of a $100K fish.

---

After returning from the trip, I was curious about the left turn debacle onto Hwy 6.  I pulled up the station on Google maps and found that there is indeed a small “right turn only” sign posted on a private light pole in the gas station lot.  I showed the picture to Aaron and he laughed saying it is a non-enforceable private sign.  Basically it’s not a sign posted by the city - which means they had no basis for pulling us over!  Ha!

[frangipanidownunder]

In the dark

Silly semi casefile fic written for several reasons. For @leiascully’s XFWritingChallenge: Exercise and also for the anon on @lyndsaybones  blog who asked for a story about Scully being given an undercover assignment as another agent’s wife.  I’m looking forward to the other stories that might spring from that particular anon!

The phone skittered across the desk, mocking him with its caller ID and perkiness. He’d fallen asleep in the office and his neck was gristled, his mouth filled with dry Bureau air.

           “Mulder, it’s me.”

           Well, yeah. That’s what the phone said.

           “Mulder, are you there?”

           “I’m here, Scully. Or should I say Mrs Sparks?”

           “That’s Ms Sparks. And you sound like you still haven’t gotten over this assignment, Mulder. It’s been two days and you’re a grown man. You need to get over it.”

           It’s been more than six years and he wasn’t over it, grown man or not.

           “What’s the plan today, Scully?” He forced a little grace into his voice.

           “You know I can’t tell you that, Mulder. I’m undercover,” her voice was buried in a rush of static and muffled voices. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call later.”

           And I’ll still be here. I’ll still be thinking about the smug look Skinner had in his eye when he informed them that Scully had been assigned to this case, going undercover as Danny fucking Conway’s wife, to lure out a serial killer who was ramping up in the DC area. And so close to the Arcadia case. What the hell was that man on? And why the hell did Scully agree to this bullshit? Hadn’t she had enough of being targeted by freaks?  She’d given him the usual line about being independent and doing her job blah blah. Their job was the X-Files, but the last time he’d tried to deliver a message along those lines, she’d gone and fucked that psycho in Philly and blamed the lack of a desk.

 Soft, green light billowed out of his fish tank. It was supposed to be calming. That’s why he’d chosen tropicals. Their colour, their shapes, their fluid movements, the warmth of their lives…yet, all he wanted to do was rip the fucking thing off the shelf and stab the little beasts with a pencil. The phone had remained unreasonably quiet. It wasn’t even arguing back when he slammed it down on his coffee table. He stretched his arms up and relished the clunk of his joints. Pain. Fatigue. Being in the fucking dark. Yes. Welcome to the life of Fox Mulder.

           The buzzing of his cell woke him. Where had he thrown it? He scrambled around the couch, sticking his fingers between the cushions and down the back. He found nothing but crumbs and a tack that stuck behind his thumbnail. He cursed and sucked at the blood. Metal and dust. And the phone stopped ringing.

 He was outside the house now, hunkered down in the driver’s seat, watching how the climbing rose curled and bowed around the door, mocking him with its elegance. He did not belong here. Not just because Scully would kill him, but because people like Mulder didn’t belong in this suburb.

Danny fucking Conway with his blond hair and frat boy good looks belonged here. Dana Scully with her contained beauty and ferocious intelligence belonged here. She really should live somewhere like this. All the things she personified were displayed in this building – success, style, class, refinement. She should never leave. She should be Ms Sparks, co-creator of GymProMatch, a site for high-end professionals wanting to find an exercise partner. However you span it, Mulder believed it was really a dating site for those who got off on watching women in exercise gear with sweaty cleavage and enough money to opt for surgical intervention should the running machine or the date become surplus to requirements.

GymProMatch also offered tailored personal training programs, online functionality so even less desirables, like Mulder, could get fit in the comfort of their glowing-green living room and be linked with other sad cases, diet plans, seminars and conferences with training professionals. The real people behind it had flown to their Caribbean chalet while Scully and Fucking Conway moved in.

           He shifted in the seat, his knees groaned at the confined space. He picked at the skin on the side of his thumb. He let his head fall against the seat rest and tried to keep his eyes open. The door opened. Scully stepped out, her hair caught in a high ponytail and white headphone wires forming a necklace around her bright pink fitted vest. She wore black yoga pants with a pink swirl around the calves, and bright white runners. She limbered up, stretching her quads and dipping her head side to side. She looked fucking gorgeous, backlit by the light above the door. She jogged up the paved path, edged by topiary bushes, and out on to the sidewalk. Mulder watched the back of her disappear into the murky evening before he opened his door to track her.

           He didn’t even get to the end of the car before she’d doubled back and was running at a pace towards him. She looked fucking angry.

He slunk into the car and she slipped in next to him, huffing out more than just energized breaths. There was fire in those exhalations.

           “I’m sorry, Scully. I needed to know you were okay.”

           “You’ve just jeopardized this whole operation, Mulder. And all because you don’t trust me to do my job.”

           “I do trust you, Scully. It’s Conway I don’t trust. He’s an asshole.”

           “That may be true, Mulder, but he’s a professional asshole. Unlike you, who at this moment, just look like a pathetic, jealous, ridiculous asshole.”

           Now they were getting somewhere. He deserved that. It made him feel better. He always appreciated the truth. Scully always told him the truth.

           “You can finish your run, Scully. I don’t mind waiting.”

           “Waiting for what?” Her voice thinned as her anger level rose. She was flushed anyway, but her chest heaved and her arms were tense and those veins near her wrists were pulsing and she kept licking her lips in that way that both irritated him and turned him on. He could practically smell the smoke coming off her, she was red-hot furious.

           It was now or never. He leant forward and captured her face in his hands, pulling her mouth to his. She was spitting out some curse or another but he swallowed it whole and savoured the taste of her. Her arms were trapped between them but he could feel her shifting against him, her fists bunching, ready to pummel him. He groaned into her mouth, pushed his tongue into the velvet of her, rubbed it against her teeth, let his hands move from under her ears, down her neck and to gently massage her shoulders. She was still fighting but she had opened her mouth wider and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was whimpering. He pulled back.

           She ran her tongue over the lower lip, looked down at her lap, then up at him. He steadied himself for the slap or the punch, but she just turned to open the door.

           “Wait, Scully. Please.”

           “I have to go, Mulder.” There was no intonation, no anger, no life in her words.

He reached out to shut the door. His arm brushed her breasts and she sucked in a breath, pushing herself back into the chair.

“Sorry. But I’m not generally in the habit of kissing you, Scully. There is a reason. And right now, that reason is approaching from the end of the street. Our suspect has been prowling around in the yard of the empty property at 190 for about an hour. Conway has called in back up. I’m wired up. You just need to keep kissing me. Come here.”

He snaked his arm around her and kissed her again. She softened into his arms and he reluctantly released her mouth to whisper into her ear.

“Skinner didn’t want you to know about my part in the assignment. He knew you would back out if I was any part of this job. This psycho loves himself a cheating red-head but he really gets off on torturing the boyfriend. Meet the boyfriend, Scully.” He nibbled her neck and she shuddered. She definitely shuddered.

“This is so fucked-up, Mulder,” her voice had dropped a notch and she was breathing heavily. Mulder let his fingers wander up and down her back as he listened for instructions from the team.

“Suspect is nearly at target point. Keep doing that, Scully.”

“Doing what?”

“That thing you’re doing with your…”

“Mulder!”

She pulled back and all hell broke loose. The passenger door pulled open, a hand reached around her and covered her mouth with duct tape. At the same time, the suspect lashed out at Mulder with a baseball bat but he managed to avoid most of the swing, so that it hit the steering wheel and let the horn sound. A dozen agents swamped the car, heaving Scully from the suspect’s grasp and pulling Mulder out. The suspect was grappled to the ground and Conway snapped on the handcuffs.

“Darling. I’m so glad you’re okay,” he smirked up at Scully.

Mulder rushed to her side. “Are you sure you want me to pull the tape off, Conway? I’m not sure you’re ready to hear what Scully has to say to you.”

She huffed out something unintelligible and he gently prised the tape off. Her mouth was red and puffy. He liked to think it wasn’t all because of the tape. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and turned away.

“You were good today, Scully.”

“At what? At being kept in the dark? At being manhandled by you and the suspect?”

Skinner swept forward, his hands buried in his overcoat. “Agents. This was a fine result. Good work.” Scully glared at him and then back at Mulder. “I understand you might have some further questions about this case, Agent Scully. Report to me in the morning. I’ll debrief you both.”

The phone skittered across his couch, mocking him with its caller ID and perkiness. The green glow seemed brighter somehow.

           “Mulder, it’s me.”

           Well, yeah. That’s what the phone said.

           “Mulder, are you there?”

           “I’m here, Scully. You sound out of breath. Are you all right?”

           “I’ve been running.”

“I hear exercise is a good for reducing stress and tension.���

“Will your next undercover assignment be as a medical doctor, Mulder? Or perhaps I won’t know until after you’ve performed an emergency tracheotomy or diagnosed someone with diabetes.”

“Touche, Scully. And again, I am sorry. But it wasn’t my decision.”

“Mulder, open your door.”

“You’re outside?”

“Yes, I ran from my car because it’s raining. I’m wet and grumpy so please, open the door.”

 She was dripping, red with cold and looked fucking gorgeous. He pulled her in, pushed her to the bathroom and told her to take a shower. When she emerged, she was red less dripping, pink with heat and still looked fucking gorgeous. She took the cup of tea he’d made and sat on his couch.

           “Would it be inappropriate to say that I really enjoyed kissing you, Scully. Even if you were technically married to someone else. And you weren’t technically aware that I was going to do it?”

“Do you always make a habit of kissing married women, Mulder?”

“Only the red-haired, doctor ones.” He tried for a cute smile.

She blushed and sipped her tea.

“That thing you did with your…”

 “Mulder!”

#xfwritingchallenge #xfwc prompt: exercise #my fanfiction #anon prompt #msr fanfic

[athena-athena]

If I Should Go Before You (Yondu x Reader)

A/N: I wrote this about a month ago, but I was posting the Ravager Christmas story at the time, so I decided to wait until I was finished with that to post this one... and then I forgot about it.  Better late than never, right?  :)  And I have a Yondu x Reader request that I’ve almost finished, so I’ll probably be posting that one in a couple of days.  

Tagged:  @animeaniseed  @celticheart72 @misfitgirlwrites  (Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tagged list!)  

If you’d prefer to read on AO3, I use the same username there.

Warnings:  None, really.  A little angst; an injury.

“So when are we leaving?” you asked Yondu, as you watched him working on his holopad.

“Well, me an’ the crew are leavin’ in the mornin’, but yer stayin’ right here.”

“What are you talking about?  I can help!”

“No way, it’s too dangerous,” he replied, without even looking up at you.

“I can handle it. I’m not totally helpless, you know.”

“I know ya ain’t, but ya still ain’t goin’ with us, an’ that’s final.”

“I can’t believe this.  Why are you treating me like a child?  What was the point of me doing all that training and learning to use weapons if I’m never allowed to go on a mission?”

“Ya learned all that to be able to defend yerself in an emergency, not to go lookin’ fer trouble.”

“I’m not looking for trouble, I just want to help!”

“My answer is no, an’ I don’t wanna hear no more about it.”  He finally looked at you, and you could tell his mind was already made up.  

“But, Yondu...”

“No!”

“Fine! But don’t expect me to be sitting here waiting for you when you come back.”

“An’ just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know what it means,” you said,  as you spun on your heel and walked angrily to your room.”

“Y/N, get back here!  Y/N!”

Slamming your door, you crossed the room and threw yourself on your bed.  He was infuriating.  You couldn’t believe he was refusing to let you go.  You knew you could help.  You trained every day and could handle your weapons, and it wasn’t like you wanted to have to use them, but you felt so useless being stuck on the ship while everyone else went out on missions.  You wanted to pull your weight as part of the crew.

Sighing, you sat up and rubbed your face.  You decided to take a long, hot shower to try to calm down, and, though you’d never admit it,  you pettily hoped that you’d use all the hot water before Yondu took a shower.  Once the water was cold, you put on your pajamas and crawled into bed.

You turned off the bedside lamp and rolled to your side.  A few minutes later, you heard the door open and Yondu whispered, “Ya still awake, Y/N?”

You ignored him and focused on keeping your breathing even.  He finally sighed and you heard him walk into the bathroom and get into the shower.

“Dammit, girl!” he yelled as the icy water hit him.  You smirked as you listened to him grumble.  A small part of you felt bad that he had to take a cold shower, but the petty part of you still thought he deserved it.

He was still grumbling when he slid into bed ten minutes later.  You kept your back to him until you felt his ice-cold feet touch yours. You scrambled to sit up, and yelled, “Geez, Yondu!  Your feet are like ice cubes!”

“Well, no wonder, considerin’ I just had ta take the galaxy’s coldest shower.  The least ya can do is warm me up.”

“No, thank you,” you replied, lying back down and turning your back to him once more.

You heard him mumbling under his breath, but didn’t respond.  You had never fought with Yondu before – oh, you’d had little squabbles, but you’d never gone to bed mad at each other, and you didn’t like it.  You were still too angry to try to fix things, though.

You slept fitfully, and when you awoke the next morning, you realized Yondu was already gone.  You were surprised at first – Yondu never left without kissing you goodbye – but then you remembered the fight, and got angry all over again.

Who did he think he was, telling you that you couldn’t go?

He’s the Captain, it’s his job to tell you what you can and can’t do on his ship.

Scowling, you ignored the logical part of your brain.  You threw back your blankets, jumped out of bed, and hurriedly dressed and brushed your teeth.  There was a chance they hadn’t left yet, and you had a plan.  Admittedly, it was a tiny germ of a plan, with absolutely no thought put into it, but it was a plan, nonetheless.  You were going to sneak onboard.  You’d show Yondu that you could hold your own, and then maybe next time he’d allow you to go without you having to sneak around.

After pulling your hair up into the messiest bun imaginable, you grabbed your quad blaster and slipped it into the holster on your hip, then slowly opened the door leading to the hall and peeked out, looking both ways.  The coast was clear, so you quietly made your way to the hangar bay.  You weren’t yet sure which crew member’s m-ship you would stow away on, but you figured you’d just hop onto the closest unguarded one.

When you finally arrived at the entrance to the hangar bay, you realized Yondu was standing right inside with a group of Ravagers, giving them some last-minute instructions about the mission.  You slid to a stop, and quickly retraced your steps, slipping into the nearest empty room while you decided what to do next.

If Yondu caught you anywhere near the hangar bay, he’d know exactly what you were up to, and he’d probably have one of the Ravagers guard you until he and the others left.  But you had to get closer so you’d be able to hear when it was safe to make a run to one of the ships.  Otherwise you might as well give up and go back to bed.  You were tempted, for a fleeting moment, to do just that, but then you remembered how badly you wanted to prove Yondu wrong, so you steeled yourself and crept out of your hiding place.

You no longer heard Yondu talking as you approached the entrance to the hangar bay this time, but you still hesitated outside the door.  You could hear engines starting up, and knew that you were running out of time.  Slowly peeking your head around the door, you realized everyone was already onboard their M-ships with the doors closed – except for one.  There was one at the back, on the far side of the bay, that still had its rear entrance door open.  You weren’t sure whose ship it was, and didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t Yondu’s, and you quickly ran towards it, hoping against hope that no one could see you.  Once on board, you found a hiding place behind some empty crates – ready to be filled with booty from the mission, no doubt – and tried to catch your breath.

You heard someone come stomping onto the ship, though you couldn’t tell who it was, then heard the rear doors close and the engine start up. You’d done it!  You’d never actually thought you’d be able to sneak aboard without being caught, and you were feeling pretty smug until you realized that since you weren’t officially supposed to be here, you’d missed the mission briefing.  Oops.  Yondu always went over the plan for the mission with the whole group before they even left the Eclector so everyone would know what to expect, and what he expected out of them.  They would each have their own jobs to do, and he expected them to do them perfectly.  Oh well, you’d just have to play it by ear.

After about thirty minutes, you felt the ship start to descend, causing your stomach to flutter with nerves.  You still had to be careful not to be spotted by Yondu.  If he saw you while they were still near the ships, he’d make you stay behind, and you hadn’t made it this far only to be kept locked on an M-ship.

You waited until you heard the unknown Ravager walk to the rear entrance and open the door, then quietly crept out of your hiding place and ran for the exit.  The Ravager – you realized it was Oblo – was standing right outside, but he had his back to you, and with the noise from the other ships’ engines, he couldn’t hear you sneak off the ship.  You ran to the opposite side of the ship and leaned your back against it, hoping no one walked around this side.

Hardly believing you’d made it this far, you smiled to yourself in triumph.  You’d show Yondu you could take care of yourself – this would be a piece of cake.  You heard the men gathering a few ships over, and carefully made your way closer so you could hear what was being said.

Yondu was talking to the crew, and part of you longed to go throw your arms around him, but the stubborn part of you still wanted to prove him wrong.  You crept a little closer so that you could see the group of Ravagers, but stayed back far enough so that hopefully no one could see you.

Yondu finished up his speech and the group broke off into three smaller, obviously prearranged, groups.  

“Kraglin, you and yer group go in first.  Let me know when y’all reach the checkpoint, and then I’ll send in the second group.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Kraglin saluted, and led his group cautiously to the entrance of a cave.

You had been so worried about getting here and not getting caught, that you hadn’t taken the time to observe your surroundings yet – a major failing that Yondu would surely have berated you for, had he known.

Looking around, you realized you were on a barren-looking planet, mostly covered by large, craggy rocks.  There were no buildings that you could see, and you wondered where you were and what Yondu’s mission could possibly be.

“We’re here, Cap’n,” came the sound of Kraglin’s voice from Yondu’s wrist communicator.

“Stay outta sight, an’ wait fer my signal,” Yondu replied.  “Tullk, y’all next.”

Tullk’s group headed into the cave, and you cursed under your breath.  You were hoping Yondu’s group would go next so you could leave with the last group.  There was no way he wouldn’t spot you following behind him now, and it wasn’t too late for him to send you back to the m-ships.  You’d just have to try to keep a little distance between you and his group, at least until you were inside.

“We’re in position, Cap’n,” came Tullk’s voice.

“Good, we’re on our way in.”  He turned to the remaining Ravagers and said, “Stay close together, watch yerselves, and whatever ya do, don’t make any noise.”

You thought he was asking rather a lot, considering Ravagers weren’t known for being graceful and quiet.  You also thought it was odd that he’d even need to give that warning – of course they should be quiet.  His group had almost reached the cave entrance, and you decided it was now or never.  You silently crept forward after them, only picking up speed once all of the Ravagers were inside. You peered around the entrance to the cave to be sure they hadn’t stopped right inside, but realized they were farther ahead of you than you’d thought.  Feeling suddenly vulnerable, you hurried to catch up, making sure to keep a little distance between yourself and Narblik, who was bringing up the rear.  

Dark passages opened up on either side of you as you followed the group down the main path, giving you an eerie feeling.  You felt like you were being watched, and expected an arm to reach out from within one of the passages to grab you at any moment.  You wished you could catch up with Yondu – you would feel much safer with him by your side – but, unfortunately, if you popped up beside him right now, he probably wouldn’t greet you the way you’d want.  Trying to ignore the eerie passages, you moved a little closer to the group.  

Yondu held up a hand to wordlessly halt the others.  You were stopped right beside one of the dark passages, and you tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t help imagining all sorts of creepy creatures who could be hiding right inside, just waiting to grab you.  You shuffled forward a little more, accidentally kicking a small rock, which hit Narblik’s boot, causing him to spin around to face you, a laser cannon aimed at your face.

“Narblik, it’s me,” you frantically whispered, holding up your hands.  

The next thing you knew, Yondu was right in front of you, and the expression on his face told you exactly how he felt about your little stunt.  

“What in tha name a the galaxy are ya doin’ here, Y/N?” he whispered. He was whispering, but you knew if it wasn’t for the circumstances, he’d be yelling.  

You suddenly realized just how stupid your whole idea had been, and you especially regretted it when you saw the anger in Yondu’s eyes.  

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to help,” you whispered, feeling exceedingly foolish.  You considered running down one of the dark passages just to get away from Yondu’s disappointment, but he had a tight grasp on your arm.

He rubbed his face with his free hand, then sighed angrily, and said, “It’s too late ta send ya back to my ship now.  Jus’ stay in the middle of the group an’ try to stay outta trouble.  I’ll deal with ya when we get back to the Eclector.”  

You nodded, avoiding his eyes.  You were not looking forward to that conversation.  

He pulled you into the center of the group, and said, “Y’all let anything happen to her, and I’ll kill ever’ last one of ya.”

He returned to the front of the group, and you stared at his back.  He looked so tense now, and you hated that you’d caused that.  He motioned the group forward, and you slowly walked ahead, surrounded by the other Ravagers.  You definitely should have stayed in bed this morning.  

The main path suddenly opened up into a wide cavern, with a towering ceiling glittering with small jewels.  You noticed that the walls of the cavern were also sparkling with jewel-bright stones, but there was one large jewel sitting on a pedestal in the center of the room that outshone the others.  You gasped, then covered your mouth with your hand, remembering Yondu’s warning to stay quiet.  

Yondu lifted his wrist communicator to his mouth and whispered, “Kraglin, how’s it lookin’?”

“Can’t see nothin’ from here, Cap’n.  No sign of anyone.”

“Good. We’re movin’ in.  Lemme know if ya see anyone comin’.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Yondu turned to the group behind him, and quietly said, “Remember the plan.  Kraglin an’ Tullk’s groups are on the other side of the cavern watchin’ out.  If they send the warnin’, get back to this passage.”

You weren’t sure why he was telling them to run instead of fight if something happened, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, because his next words were aimed at you.  “Don’t ya dare leave Narblik’s side, ya hear me?”  

“Yes,” you mumbled, staring at the ground.  You felt Narblik move next to you, and then Yondu ordered him, “An’ if somethin’ goes wrong, you get her outta here, I don’t care if ya gotta pick her up an’ throw her over yer shoulder.”

You scowled at him as he turned to face the cavern again.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

Narblik was walking so close to you that he kept bumping into your side, and you barely restrained yourself from shoving him away.  He was clearly worried about Yondu’s wrath if something happened to you.  The group started to spread out around the glowing jewel in the center of the room, while Yondu and Horuz approached it.  Half of the Ravagers were facing the dark passageways, and the other half were circling around Yondu and Horuz, all looking on edge with their weapons drawn. Narblik had his back to the stone, with his weapon aimed at one of the dark passages.  You drew your quad blaster, as well.  Their edginess was starting to rub off on you, and you were feeling decidedly uneasy.  

Suddenly a sharp clang echoed around the cavern and your head jerked in the direction you thought it had originated.  You saw Gef looking horrified as he stared at the large metal sculpture he had apparently just knocked over.  You heard shouts issuing from one of the passages, and turned in time to see Kraglin and his group running out.  

“They’re comin’, Cap’n,” he yelled.  You guessed the time to be quiet was over.  

Yondu cursed, then whistled, his arrow flying out of its holster to hover next to his head.  He briefly met your eyes, and you saw fear in them, fear for you, and in that moment, you hated yourself for giving him another reason to be stressed about this mission that was so clearly going wrong.  

Tullk’s group ran out of a passage on the left side of the cavern, and all three groups merged into one in the center of the room.  

You could hear unintelligible yelling coming from somewhere, and you strained your ears to figure out exactly where it was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere, and the closer it got, the better you could hear snarling and howling mixed in with the high-pitched yelling.

“Get to the main passage!” Yondu yelled.  Narblik grabbed your arm and started pulling you to the passage as the other Ravagers pushed and shoved in their hurry to escape.  You turned in time to see a swarm of tiny creatures running out of the passages.  They looked like little goblins, and they were fast.  They carried long spears, twice as tall as the creatures themselves, and they hurled them with unexpected speed and startling accuracy.  

You heard Yondu’s whistle and knew he was trying to kill as many as he could, but you could tell it was useless.  There were just too many of them.  A few of the other Ravagers were firing at the goblins, trying to hold them back while the rest escaped.  You desperately kept turning your head to try to see Yondu behind you, but Narblik was relentless in pulling you to safety.  Finally you caught a glimpse of him.  He wasn’t running, and you realized he was still trying to get that stupid jewel.  At that moment, Narblik tripped, and you used his distraction to rip your arm from his grasp.  You ran back towards Yondu, shoving through the escaping Ravagers.  You fired your quad blaster at a goblin that was aiming its spear at Yondu’s back, and Yondu spun around to see you.

“Y/N! Get out of here!”

You continued firing your blaster.  You were not leaving him in here, even if he was stupid enough to risk his life for a jewel.  

“Yondu, come on!  Forget that blasted jewel!”  

You ducked to avoid getting hit by a spear, then fired your blaster at two more goblins who were running towards you.  

You heard Yondu yell your name, then felt a searing pain in your upper leg.  You stumbled forward and looked down to realize you’d been hit by a spear.  You fell to the ground, screaming, and cradled your leg.  It felt like it was on fire, and the room was already starting to go hazy.  You barely noticed that the other Ravagers had returned to the battle, running around you as you continued to scream, rocking back and forth as you held your leg.  You were suddenly aware that you had been scooped up into someone’s arms.  You tried to open your bleary eyes to see who your rescuer was, but you couldn’t manage it.  You were so sleepy all of a sudden.  Your leg was on fire, and you just wanted to sleep.  You tried once more to open your eyes, but gave up.

“Hold on, Y/N, I gotcha.  Don’t ya dare die on me, ya hear me?  Stay with me, Y/N!”  

“Yondu...” you whispered, before you fell into darkness.

*****

You felt like you were floating in darkness, your body on fire, and you could only hear snippets of voices.

“Sir, you need to wait out here.”

“I ain’t waitin’ out here, I’m stayin’ with her!”

You tried calling out to Yondu, but your voice wouldn’t work. Why couldn’t you talk?  

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we’ve got to act quickly, and you need to stay here.”

“C’mon, Cap’n, let ‘em do their job, she’ll be okay.” Kraglin.

You tried so hard to let them know you were there, that you were fine, but you couldn’t.  Don’t leave me, Yondu… was your last thought before you were once again swallowed by the darkness.

*****

You slowly opened your eyes, blinking against the light.  You were lying in a bed in a room you didn’t recognize.  You started to panic, until you realized Yondu was sitting in a chair next to your bed, his head resting on his chest, but his hand still holding yours.  He looked exhausted, and you hated to wake him.  You squeezed his hand gently, but even that slight movement had him jerking awake.  When he saw your eyes open, he leaned closer to you, and whispered, “Hey, darlin’.”  

“Hey, Yondu,” you replied, in a dry and scratchy voice.  “What happened?  Where are we?”

“Ya got hit by one a those blasted poisoned spears.  We’re in a hospital on Xandar.”

“Xandar?”

“Closest planet with a hospital. Didn’t think we’d make it back to the Eclector.”  He cleared his throat, and you could see tears in his eyes.

The events of the mission were starting to come back to you in bits and pieces, and you remembered how much trouble you’d caused.  

You started to cry, as you whispered, “I’m so sorry, Yondu.  I shouldn’t have gone, I should have listened to you…”

“Shhh, it’s okay.  I ain’t mad at ya.  Yer gonna be fine, that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, still silently crying. Yondu brushed your cheek with his free hand, then gave a tired grin, and said, “But ya better listen to me from now on.”  

You gave a hiccuping laugh, and replied, “I’ll try.”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Get some rest now, darlin’, yer safe.”

The next time you woke up, Yondu was nowhere to be seen, but Kraglin was sitting in the chair next to your bed.  

“Where’s Yondu?”

Kraglin looked up at the sound of your voice.  “He’ll be right back.  Jus’ had to go talk to one a the healers.  Ya feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.  I’m really thirsty, though.”

“Oh, here.”  He poured a cup of water out of a pitcher that was sitting on the table next to him, then helped you drink it.  

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied, placing the cup back on the table, and sitting down in the chair again.  “Cap’n was real upset, ya know.”

“I know he was mad at me,” you said in a small voice, picking at the thin sheet that was covering you.

“Mad? Nah, he was worried sick.  He didn’t think ye was gonna make it.  Never seen ‘im so scared.  We barely got back to the ship in time.  ‘Nother five minutes without that antidote, an’ ya’d be dead right now.  Luckily the Cap’n was prepared.  Knew we was probably gonna be dealin’ with those nasty goblins, so he had us all carry a capsule of the antidote in our pockets.  Only problem was we couldn’t give it to ya ‘til we got to the ship, ‘cause there was too many a them goblins around.”

“Did everyone else make it back okay?”

“Oh, yeah, we was all fine.  A few got some bumps an’ scratches, but nobody else got hit by a spear.  Jus’ real unlucky that ye got hit.  Coulda been worse, though.”

The door opened, and you turned your head to see Yondu walk in, carrying a tray of food.

“Thought ya might be hungry when ya woke up.”

He walked over, placed the tray of food on the small, swiveling table next to your bed, and helped maneuver it so you could reach it.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him.

“Yer welcome.  Kraglin, ya can head back to the ship now.  I ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ again tonight.”

“Aye, Cap’n.  See ya later, Y/N.”

“Bye, Kraglin.”  

Yondu sat in the chair that Kraglin had just vacated, then scooted it closer to your bedside.

“You need to go back to the ship, too, Yondu.  You look exhausted.  You need to rest.”

“Nah, I ain’t leavin’ ya in here by yerself.”

“I’ll be fine, the healers will take care of me.”

“Ferget it, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.  Now eat yer food.”

Obediently, you took a bite of your meal.  You weren’t really hungry, but he’d gone to all the trouble to get it for you, and you felt like you owed him at least that much.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” you assured him.

“Good.”  

You took a few more bites, then felt him looking at you.  

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Wha’?  I ain’t starin’.”

You pointed your fork at him, and said, “Yes, you were.”

He grinned, caught, and said, “Fine, I’s starin’.  Jus’ happy to see ya awake and talkin’.”  His smile fell, and he continued, “Fer a while, I didn’t think I’d ever see that again.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you put your fork down, pushing the rolling tray away from your bed.  You held out your arms to him, and he immediately leaned over you to envelop you in his arms.  

“Don’t ye ever scare me like that again, ya hear me?  I swear I can’t stand the thought a losin’ ya,” he whispered in your ear.

Crying freely now, you were lost for words, so you just held him tighter.

The door opened again, and Yondu straightened up.  A healer in a white uniform walked in, saw the two of you clearly in the middle of an emotional conversation, and walked backwards toward the door again. “I’ll come back later,” she stated, before closing the door quietly.

“Think yer cryin’ scared her.”

“I guess so,” you laughed, wiping your tears away.  You patted the bed next to your non-injured leg, and said, “Come on, you’re exhausted.  We can both get some rest until the healers come back.”

“Ya sure?  I don’t wanna get yer bed all messed up...”

“I don’t care, come here.”

He carefully climbed onto the bed beside you and wrapped his arms around you.  You snuggled into him as much as you could without moving your injured leg, and sighed.  “I love you, Yondu.”

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he replied, kissing your forehead gently.  When the healer returned twenty minutes later, she found the two of you fast asleep.  She crept back out, and quietly closed the door.

#yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #yondu #yondu udonta #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #gotg2 #my writing

[yoi-secret-valentines2017]

How to Surprise Your Fiancé With Pork: An Honest Walkthrough by Viktor Nikiforov

[for @love-like-a-soldier]

–

The thing with Viktor is that once he’s set his mind on something, there is a very very minuscule chance of him not following through on said thing.

Add quad flips to his program six months before the Junior Grand Prix series because ‘no-one else is doing them’? Ask anyone who was there: he came, he flipped, he conquered (and, less importantly, Yakov yelled at him the whole time for it).

Take a year off and jump on a plane halfway around the world because the cute Japanese skater from last year’s banquet skated his program? He’s got the stamps on his passport and the shiny ring on his finger to show for that.

Decide not to decide between coaching and competing and resolve to do both this year instead? Well, this last one’s a bit of a work in progress, but Viktor is still sure it will be fine. Granted, his criterion for ‘success’ involves having himself and/or Yuuri, preferably both, on the podium at Worlds, but if that doesn’t happen then it can only mean the apocalypse is coming, and by then nothing will matter anyway.

In any case, the timing of Valentine’s Day is unfortunate this year: it falls a few short days away from when they’ll have to fly out for the Four Continents. After his record-breaking silver at the Grand Prix and subsequent absolute domination of the Japanese Nationals, Yuuri is a favorite to win the tournament this February. He’s been an absolute workhorse these past few weeks, hungry for the win – Viktor couldn’t be prouder of him as a coach, nor more excited to face him on the ice at Worlds in March.

Still, he has a short-term concern that will need to be addressed before anything else: he wants to do something for Yuuri, partly as a Valentine’s Day gift, partly as a prelude to Worlds, and partly ‘just because’. It’s somewhere between dwelling on the abstract thought of Yuuri’s hunger as a competitor, and watching the younger skater on Facetime with his mother back home, that an idea starts to form.

An idea starts to form, and it latches.

“The Japanese do this holiday a bit differently, no?” Georgi comments in the locker room, when Viktor excitedly blurts out his plan to the first non-Yuuri person he can find. “Something about chocolates? And something about another day in March?”

“It doesn’t have to be just about that. It can be… I don’t know. It can be ‘I care about you, you deserve this, thank you for your hard work’?”

“Hmmm. I suppose so.”

Georgi doesn’t look or sound terribly convinced though. Viktor lets the other man side-eye him at least until he finishes cleaning his skates, at which point he whirls around and squints. “What is it?”

“It’s just… I think you are forgetting a small, minor detail.”

“Which is?”

“Well, since when have you ever… actually cooked?”

—

Alright, so it’s no terrible secret that Viktor Nikiforov, the most decorated men’s singles figure skater to walk this earth, might be considered slightly less than proficient in some, shall we say, domestic endeavors. Specifically, culinary endeavors. Alas, for 27 years Viktor Nikiforov, skater extraordinaire and poster boy for countless ad campaigns that showered him with more money than he knew what to do with, lived on the existence of restaurants, takeout and the occasional frozen dinner.

Yuuri moving in with him was a bit of a blessing in that regard, because his talents in ‘broke college student cuisine’ as he and Phcihit called it meant that Viktor could at least eat warm meals that had been prepared in his kitchen, and from something other than his microwave. Yuuri isn’t a fancy cook, mostly sticking to the basics: if it can’t be prepped in half an hour and cooked in much of the same, Viktor doubts he’s seen Yuuri make it. Not that he’s complaining, since a quick dinner means more time for after-dinner activities.

Regardless, he wants to show Yuuri that he appreciates it – that he appreciates him, all of him, his life and love and piping-hot stews, and all the other wonderful things he brought here, to Viktor’s home. Presenting him not only with any dish, but his favorite and a surely-welcome taste of home, sounds like the perfect way to do it.

Georgi has a point, though. Viktor’s lack of… relevant experience could be a hindrance.

It’s okay, though. In the words of one Katsuki Yuuri who had just poked on the whorl of his coach’s hair and then promptly panicked about it, “everything’s okay!” Because Viktor is determined, and much like all of his previous instances of inspired madness, Viktor has a plan of action.

—

Step 1: Look up recipes for katsudon on your phone.

“There are so maaaany, Yura,” he whines, scrolling and scrolling through an endless list of results. Viktor’s half-draped over the railing while Yuri does his stretches at rink side. The only reason he can afford to be this careless is because it isn’t even 7 in the morning yet – far too early for Yuuri to even be awake. Then again, Yuuri is usually the last to leave at night, so it all balances out in the end.

Maybe. Yakov doesn’t yell about it, that’s what’s important.

“Quit bitching and just pick one, old man.”

“But how do I know which one to choose? I should have asked Mama Katsuki for hers, that’s Yuuri’s favorite, right? It would have been foolproof.”

Yuri gives him a look. “Just having the recipe doesn’t mean jack shit in terms of you getting something edible in the end.” At Viktor’s pout, Yuri rolls his eyes. “Besides, you know there’s an actual Japanese restaurant a few blocks from here, right?”

“That would be cheating!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake – what are you even getting him katsudon for, anyway?? Bit premature considering he hasn’t won the Four Continents yet!”

“But,” Viktor breaks into a dazzling smile, “he’s won my heart?”

Yuri makes gagging sounds for a good two and a half minutes.  

Viktor ignores Yakov’s yelling and pays closer attention to one of the recipes. It looks simple enough, it opens with a delectable picture of the finished product, and there’s something in the author’s blurb about ‘authentic’ and ‘Tokyo’. It’s not Hasetsu, but he supposes this will have to do.

By the time Yuuri strolls into the rink, Viktor has already made up his mind and bookmarked this recipe. For a moment he wonders what ‘Tonkatsu’ is and why the word shows up as a link on his screen; when he taps on the link, he’s taken to another recipe page, still under the same author. Ah, so this is for the pork cutlet, then. Of course, that makes sense. He needs to make a mental note of that:

Step 1.5: Remember that Tonkatsu involves a separate recipe on its own.

—

When the much-awaited day arrives, Viktor is ready:

Step 2: Make sure the fiancé is oblivious to everything.

“You’re taking the day off?”

Yuuri is squinting down at him with an unreadable look, and Viktor isn’t sure if he’s suspicious or just confused. He hopes it isn’t the first one though, otherwise he’s ruined. “Just one day, I promise,” Viktor assures him from underneath the pile of blankets and pillows he’s gathered around himself. “I don’t know if I picked this up from Georgi or what…” He punctuates that with an exaggerated sniffle. “I miss Hasetsu. Your lovely city’s weather has made me weak, Yuuri.” Only half a lie.

“Sorry. How do you know you’ll be better by tomorrow?” Yuuri sets his bag back down and sits on the edge of the bed. Somehow he snakes a hand through the blankets and pillows and finds Viktor’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever at least.” He sighs in relief. “That’s good.”

“Mmmm.” Fake-sickness or not, Yuuri’s hands always feel good against his skin, and he’ll never get tired of Yuuri’s touch. Viktor almost has half a mind to abandon the plan altogether, yank his Yuuri down and pull him close, kiss him… patience, there will be time for that later, he tells himself. This will all be worth it. “Or it could just be fatigue. I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow?”

Yuuri frowns. “I can take the day off too, just to make sure…”

No, no, no, that is the opposite of what he wants. “And lose a precious day of training less than a week before the Four Continents? I can’t allow that.”

“But – ”

“What kind of coach would I be if I let my student lose precious ice time at this crucial moment, all because of something a few painkillers and some rest should remedy?”

“Well…” Yuuri brushes back some tendrils of hair that had fallen in front of Viktor’s face. He almost wants to purr. “If you’re sure…” He finally stands up, and leans down to press a quick kiss against Viktor’s lips. “Text me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all. I’m going to be doing ballet at Madam Baranovskaya’s for most of the day, but I’ll keep an eye out for any messages from you.”

Viktor smiles and nods, and offers a pathetic little wave as Yuuri leaves. He’s already running late, he thinks with a glance at the clock: it’s almost noon.

He waits exactly ten minutes, and then leaps out of bed.

—

Step 3: Obtain all the necessary ingredients.

There’s a handful of Asian supermarkets in St. Petersburg, and the closest one still takes him the better part of an hour to get to. He wasn’t kidding about the weather being harsher than Hasetsu’s, and the snow and ice make for some tricky walking.

What’s important is that he makes it. And what’s even more important: where can he find dashi stock?

“It looks like this,” he tells one of the store employees, pulling up a picture of a bottle on his phone. “I think? It’s stock made from some kind of kelp.” The man stares at him, and Viktor sighs. “No? Okay, then.”

He tries a couple more times, and then finally just pulls up a new browser tab on his phone. ‘Dashi stock substitute,’ he types.

Chicken stock it is.

He knows he’s off to a terrible start when he can’t find the mirin either. He makes it through several trips up and down the store aisles, circling back on himself once or twice, before considering if he’s to settle for some dry sherry and brown sugar. But at the last minute, he spots a single row of bottles – shorter than the rest, easy to miss – and thanks his lucky stars for the bright red caps.

From there, it’s easier to find the pork and the panko bread crumbs. He thinks they should still have soy sauce in the kitchen, since Yuuri uses it a lot for his stir-fry dishes. And they should definitely have onions back home.

Shouldn’t they? In his excitement to leave the apartment to go shopping, he realizes, he didn’t think to check what they had in store. In hindsight, he really should have done that.

Somehow, by the time he heads out with his purchases, the snow has gotten worse.

—

Step 4: Walk your dog before committing to any cooking, especially if this is your first serious time doing this, as you will probably be tied up in the kitchen for hours.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Viktor pouts. Makkachin’s face after a short half-hour stroll seems to say ‘that’s it?’ She shakes her fur in the foyer to retaliate, and Viktor sighs fondly even as he’s drenched.

Then he gives her a dog biscuit, because he can deny her nothing.

He takes a good 20 minutes to make the necessary arrangements so that his little endeavor runs as smoothly as possible: comfortable clothes, new apron, all the lights on in the kitchen, music from his free skate playing on loop from the adjacent living room. He sends a quick message to Yuuri that he’ll be ‘taking a nap’.

His heart swells at the response: ‘⊂(・ヮ・⊂) Feel better!’

Lastly, he also asks Yuri to give him a heads-up once Yuuri leaves for home. He decides to count ‘Fuck off old man’ as a ‘yes’.

“Okay Makkachin,” he calls out in sing-song. She perks her head up for a moment before resuming her task of gnawing on a chew toy. “Here goes nothing.”

—

ACTUAL STEP 1: In a small bowl, combine the dashi  chicken stock, sugar, soy sauce and mirin making sure the sugar is completely dissolved.

Just a year ago, the cupboards in his kitchen were almost completely bare. Now that he tries to remember it, he probably only had a couple of plates, some mismatched glasses and mugs, and maybe two and a half sets of cutlery in there.

It was Yuuri who insisted on shopping for kitchenware together, four jet-lagged hours after moving in. Which is the only reason he actually has the bowls and measuring cups that he needs now.

It’s funny to think about it, how they’re not even technically married yet, but for all intents and purposes they’re already starting to act like it.

Step 2: Add the liquid mixture to a small frying pan over medium heat and bring to a simmer.

Viktor is 99% sure he knows what ‘bring to a simmer’ means, but he looks it up anyway just to be safe. There’s no shame in being sure.

There’s also no shame in incognito browsing, anyway.

Step 3: Add the sliced onions to the mixture and cook until onions are fragrant and start to turn translucent.

Oh, so he was supposed to slice the onions beforehand? That’s not a problem, he can just do it now.

Luckily, they do have enough onions to cover the recipe, if barely. The cutting board and Yuuri’s favorite knife are still in the drying rack from this morning’s breakfast, so it’s easy to find them.

He starts slicing the onions, the knife coming down with every other downbeat of his free skate music. Viktor hasn’t done a lot of knifework in his life at all, so he decides to go slowly. He’s not arrogant to the point of foolishness, there’s a reason he dedicated all afternoon to this task.

He wipes his smarting eyes on his sleeve after the first onion. He expected this much.

He finishes a second onion. It’s getting worse now, he’s still got a lot to do. Maybe this is the plateau though, and in that case, he can tolerate it.

Two and a half onions and oh God the pain is real and the tears might never stop. He abandons his onions, flushes his eyes out with water, and asks the internet for advice again.

Step 2.5: Place onions in the freezer for 15 minutes so that your eyes don’t sting (as much) when you slice them.

He chucks the rest of the onions into the freezer and puts a lid on the sauce before taking a break. When he checks his phone, there’s a message from Yuuri: ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Missing you :(‘, he types out. Guiltily, he realizes it’s one of the few non-lies he’s told Yuuri today. All for a good cause, he convinces himself. ‘Done for today?’

‘Soon. Do you want soup for dinner?’

Uh-oh. ‘Not very hungry. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Σ(゜ロ゜;) But you have to eat something!’

Viktor lets out a little laugh. He doesn’t want to argue with Yuuri about this though. And maybe a little soup won’t hurt, if that’s all it is.

‘Okay, soup sounds good. :) Not too much though!’

Back to his katsudon. The onions are much more cooperative now, Viktor is pleased to find, and he makes quick work of the rest of the batch. Now for the next step…

Step 4: Place the Tonkatsu –

Oh, shit.

—

~INTERMEZZO: TONKATSU~

Step 4.1: Trim the pork chops of any excess fat, leaving just a little on the edges.  Make small cuts in the fatty areas of each chop. This prevents curling when cooking.

Right, good to know that, it’s like he’s learning something new every step of the way. That’s a good thing, Viktor tells himself as he makes cuts in the pork. It’s the same knife he used on the onions, but he’s not sure if it makes a difference. That, and he was too lazy to get another one. This is fine. So far, so good.

Step 4.2: Lightly season both sides of the pork chops with salt and pepper.  

Viktor frowns. How much is ‘lightly’? Everything else in the recipe got actual measurements, why is this suddenly a matter of guessing now?

He decides to err on the side of caution. Yuuri can always add more later.

Actually, does it even matter if all this will be drenched in the mirin-stock sauce anyway? Viktor has so many questions.

Step 4.3: Get three shallow bowls and add flour to one, beaten egg to the second one and panko crumbs to the third one.

Wait, when was he supposed to have beaten an egg before this?

Doesn’t matter, a more pressing concern is that they don’t really have any shallow bowls – much less three. He finds the bowls that they eat cereal in, and decides to use those. God, he’s already filled up the whole counter with stuff. Doing the dishes after this is promising to be an adventure on its own.

Step 4.4: Dust the pork chops in flour (making sure they’re completely covered) then dip in the beaten egg, coating the surface thoroughly.  Finally coat in the panko breadcrumbs. Firmly press each side of the pork chops in the panko so it sticks and you get a nice even coating.

Okay, that is a lot of action for one step.

What Viktor quickly learns is that there’s no real, fast way to do this that’s also dignified. The first time, he drops the pork chop into the first bowl from too high up, and sends a cloud of flour into the air. So he adjusts, taking his time with the egg wash, and then with the breadcrumbs, turning it over and over until it’s thoroughly coated.

So are his fingers, at the end. He’s got panko caked under his nails.

It’s slow going, and he has to add more breadcrumbs to the bowl at some point, but the chops come out looking beautiful. He almost has half a mind to crow about them to Makkachin, but he’s not sure she won’t try to nab one off the counter.

He contents himself with a picture of his work so far.. He’ll think of a witty caption later.

Step 4.5: Fill a medium-sized, heavy bottom pot halfway with oil and heat over medium heat.  When the oil reaches 340 degrees gently lower the cutlets into the oil.

..But this one, this is the step that gives him pause. For all that he’s already willing to indulge Yuuri with this, he’s not too sure how thrilled he is at feeding him fried food. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure that Yuuri, who once said no to his coach-endorsed offer of Shanghai crab with a straight face, would approve.

Is there a recipe for baked Tonkatsu somewhere?

Step 4.5-a: Find a recipe for baked Tonkatsu somewhere.

His phone buzzes as he’s typing in the search bar; he makes a mental note to check it later. For now, he skims over the results and clicks on the third one at random.

What do you know, you can make a sort-of baked Tonkatsu. The fact that the steps between seasoning the pork and getting them all coated and ready to fry are more or less the same is very, very welcome indeed.

Step 4.5-b: Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 400F (200C). Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

Viktor’s phone buzzes again as he’s fiddling with the rack. He’s not sure he’s actually seen Yuuri use this oven before; he usually makes things on the stovetop, unless they’re eating something like salad which doesn’t require even that. He’s also not sure how he’s supposed to know when the oven is done preheating. Is it supposed to make a sound? There’s a green light next to something helpfully labelled ‘PRE’, is that supposed to go off at some point?

So many questions. Viktor has five tabs open when a series of cheerful beeping puts him out of his misery. Remember, he tells himself as he wipes the sweat from his brow, you’re doing this for love!

Step 4.5-b(cont’d): Remember you’re doing this for love!

Step 4.5-c: Place the pork on the prepared baking sheet. Bake until the pork is no longer pink inside, about 20 minutes.

Viktor doesn’t even try to figure out the timer on the oven this time. He just checks the clock on the microwave and – holy shit, is that really the time??

The pork has been cooking for about ten minutes, and Viktor has been trying to find more eggs for about five, when his phone buzzes again. And again.

“Hello?” The phone is sandwiched between his ear and shoulder as he opens cupboard door after cupboard door.

“Finally. What the fuck old man, I was starting to think maybe you burned down your kitchen and died.”

“Not yet,” Viktor forces himself to sing into the phone. “Check again in some 20 minutes though. May or may not be kidding.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “You’re still not done?”

“Why – “

“Check your fucking texts!”

Yuri ends the call before he can protest, so he decides to do just that.

[30 minutes ago]: ‘Piggy’s heading out.’

[25 minutes ago]: ‘Piggy’s on his way. Btw if you didn’t completely fail, I call dibs on leftovers.’

Oh, no.

Oh, no no.

He’s spent countless days in the ballet studio in Lilia’s house, enough to know how much time it takes to get from there to here. That is, not much time at all. Still! He refuses to give up now, not when he’s so close!

Okay, maybe not so close, but he actually got the pork chops into the oven and that’s something, right?

He glances over at the many buttons and labels on his oven. By any chance, does one of them cast ‘miracle’?

Step 4.5-c-1: Locate the manufacturer’s manual for your convection oven. Verify if it has a ‘speed bake’ mode or some similar function that might drastically reduce baking time.

Close enough. He presses it with all the hope and yearning of a desperate man. Oh God Yuuri’s going to be here any minute and the kitchen is a mess. Viktor is a mess.

He decides to spend his nervous energy by at least setting the table –

But wait, he was looking for more eggs, wasn’t he? Damn it. He should have picked some up at the store when he was there –

Why didn’t Yuuri text him to let him know he was coming home? He usually does –

Hang on. When had he removed the lid from that frying pan with the sauce and the onions? He doesn’t remember doing it – but it doesn’t matter now, because there’s not much but onion left. Swearing, he shuts off that burner and moves the pan.

… Where is that infernal sound coming from??

Step 4.5-c-1**: A note of caution regarding the ‘speed bake’ option mentioned in the step above: there is a small chance that you pressed some other button instead of the intended one. Adjust accordingly. For example, if you accidentally set the oven to ‘Broil’, you will want to keep a constant eye on the food inside the oven to ensure that it does not burn up.

Viktor yanks open the oven door. He winces as a blast of heat and smoke smacks him in the face, and coughs out a few selections of Russian profanity. Makkachin’s barking from a room away.

To his dismay, the pork chops are now a rather… unfortunate… color.

And because the universe apparently decides he hasn’t been punished for his hubris enough, the next second his ears are assaulted by a shrill, otherworldly BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Step 4.???: It seems your overhead smoke detector has gone off. Obtain a chair to stand on and some decently-sized flat object which you can use to fan the smoke away from the detector.

Step 4.??? (note): Maybe turn off the oven and stovetop entirely before you do this.

—

This is how Katsuki Yuuri, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, the fire of his loins et cetera, ad infinitum, finds Viktor when he walks into the door: standing precariously with one foot on a barstool and the other on top of his counter, frantically fanning at his smoke detector with a magazine from their coffee table.

It’s… well, it’s not the scenario he envisioned, that’s for sure. In his earlier moments of self-delusion, Viktor might have had visions of candles on the dining table, sparkling wine, and piping hot bowls of katsudon that would make Yuuri’s face light up the room. To his credit, his imaginary scenario didn’t necessarily involve a spotless kitchen as well, but he didn’t envision it was ever going to get this bad. He thinks he must present quite the sight himself, with flour and panko all over his clothes and hair.

Neither of them says anything for a few, long seconds. Yuuri looks like he’s still struggling to process what exactly he’s meant to do with everything he’s seeing right now. There’s a flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and his mouth hangs half-open.

No, don’t say anything yet! He can still fix this! He can…

Oh. Did he ever make rice?

Step 5: Nope. It’s all over now, save for the shoutings.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he groans. He drops down from the stool and buries his face in his hands, promptly getting flour on his face. “I have no words. I just wanted to surprise you. I promise I’ll clean this all up – ”

“Were you cooking?” Yuuri blurts out. He cranes his neck to peer at the oven over Viktor’s shoulder. “So when you said you were sick…”

“Lies,” he admits readily. “With good intentions, I promise, but good intentions only get you so far.” Makkachin bounds in through the kitchen to greet Yuuri, and tracks paw-prints of flour in her wake. “I suppose I deserved this,” he adds in lament.

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri chuckles. “I’m… I’m touched. And I am surprised. Really.”

Viktor suspends his dramatics for a moment to scrutinize the look on Yuuri’s face. His eyes seem to have grown even wider since the initial shock of walking into their catastrophe of a kitchen, which doesn’t make any sense. And…

“Wait.” He finally notices the huge plastic bags in Yuuri’s hands, too big and too many for to hold just soup. “What are you carrying?”

Somehow, the adorable flush on Yuuri’s cheeks only deepens. “I, uh…” He avoids Viktor’s eyes as he unloads container after container on the counter: boiled eggs, some kind of barbecued sliced meat, loose herbs in little bags, and… several different thermoses? “You said you were feeling sick and that, the weather was bad and um, that you missed Hasetsu. You didn’t exactly say ‘no’ to soup, so I… I made ramen?”

Viktor stares at him. Yuuri stares at a package of noodles. “You… made ramen.”

“W-well, it’s not going to be anywhere close to what you got back home… I didn’t exactly have 18 hours to burn, so. The pork’s from a Chinese takeout place. The eggs might have ended up cooking a bit longer than I wanted. Uh, and the noodles are a bit mushy because I got distracted when Yurio kept yelling – “

“Yurio helped you with this??”

Yuuri finally laughs. “Sure, but only after I promised him half of the finished product. And to take the full blame if we ever ended up trashing Lilia’s kitchen.”

“I… I thought you said you were going there for ballet training.”

“Not a lie! We did all this after.” Yuuri scratches at the back of his head, and offers a sheepish smile. “It’s funny, huh? We both wanted to surprise each other.”

“But ended up thinking of the same thing anyway,” Viktor breathes. And then he can’t take it anymore, because he pulls Yuuri close to him, ignoring his still-freezing skin and the indignant yelp as he gets flour on Yuuri too.

The thing with Viktor is that once he’s set his mind on something, there is a very very minuscule chance of him not following through on said thing. To his credit, it can never be said that he gave up on this brave culinary adventure, not really anyway, even though the results turned out… less than ideal.

But did they, really? He’s not so sure anymore, not when he’s got Yuuri in his arms and a perfect close-up view of that pretty blush on his face that still hasn’t gone away. He’s not sure he can ask for much more than this.

Viktor presses a kiss against his cheek to try to make the blush even worse. It works. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Yuuri smiles, and buries his face into his neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“For what it’s worth, I am truly, truly sorry about the current state of our kitchen.”

“I’m just glad you’re not actually sick.”

“… I have so much to clean up.”

“Maybe I’ll help you.”

“Maybe,” Viktor echoes. He squeezes him tighter and wonders how he ever got so lucky. “Hungry?”

—

The Tonkatsu is hopeless, gone, like it barrelled full-throttle towards ‘inedible’ under that broiler and then kept going, possibly screaming its own name. With the rest of the ingredients and some leftover chicken breast in the fridge, Yuuri manages to make something quite palatable. He also makes rice.

Meanwhile, beside him, Viktor heats up the ramen broth. Which really just involves moving it all from the thermoses to a pot, and staring at the pot while it sits on the stove. But he’s got this.

He even stirs it once or twice, to feel useful.

—

Later that week, Yuuri takes gold by a margin of 2.57 points from JJ at the Four Continents.

Viktor had already pinned all the Japanese restaurants in a five-kilometer radius that serve katsudon by the time they landed. Right after the awards ceremony, Viktor drags Yuuri to the nearest one, and Yuuri finally gets his hands on a proper pork cutlet bowl – with actual dashi stock! – for dinner.

–

A few hours after dinner, Viktor gets to eat some katsudon too.

“Vkusno”, he murmurs playfully into warm skin, earning a laugh and a kick for his troubles. All is well with the world.

#yoi secret valentines #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #writing #yuri plisetsky #submission

[mr-yuri-katsuki]

Tired of feeling never enough.

I’ll forgive you if you don’t read this whole thing. It’s longer than the post from a couple days ago, and kind of... dark, I guess. But I needed to work through some things, so here’s that.

I got into the 2015 Grand Prix Final by a fluke really. I hadn't been expecting to make it but I placed high enough to squeak in. It was my first one. I qualified early on because my events were Skate America and Skate Canada that year.

Practices went okay but having almost two months to linger on it messed with my head in a big way. I focused more on what I couldn't do than what I could, and it got harder and harder to get through to me. Even Phichit got worried, and he never really worried about anything. To cheer me up, he secretly ordered me a pillow with a picture of Victor on it all the way from Japan because I'd seen it in footage from the NHK Trophy, where Victor was competing. His Japanese fans had them, so Phichit knew I'd want one. He gave it to me for my birthday on November 29th, not long before the Final.

We got to the event and there were two sessions for the men's practices, three in each because there's only six total for the Final. I was terrified to look at my schedule. I was group A. Victor was group B. I honestly don't know if I could have skated on the same ice if we'd been in the same group.

I didn't see him until day 1 of practice. I was signing some autographs near the entrance to backstage, and suddenly everyone except my Japanese fans who were still waiting took off. I looked over and Victor was at the other corner on our end of the rink, getting ready to practice. It was the first time I'd seen him in person, because I had never been assigned to a GP event he was in before I made it to this one.

I thought watching him practice would help me, but all I was was that much more intimidated. It was one thing to see him on television, but watching him skate in person after wanting to since I was 12 years old didn't even feel real. I sat about five rows up, so I could see over the boards and watch his skates as they moved. At one point he was running through “Stay Close To Me”, and landed the quad salchow about 15 feet away from where I was sitting.

I was pretty sure I'd never be that good. As much as I wanted to, I didn't stay for any more practices except my own after that. My confidence was already shaky at best, no need to be reminded that I'd never be worthy of being at the Final at all.

~~~

The pressure got to me early on and my short program was a mess. I salvaged my combination, but popped the other two jumps. Coach Celestino had seemed to be giving up on me. Instead of analyzing what was wrong, he kept asking me why I was scared, that I was good enough to be there (even though I was there via sheer luck and some math in the standings). It wasn't helping.

Coach C never allowed us any junk food during competitions. But when I went back to my room that night I bought a bunch of candy and ate it. The sugar was the worst thing right then but at that point I figured it wouldn't matter. I'd always had issues with my weight. I was always on some kind of diet from the rink nutritionist and Coach C always had me doing extra fitness training to keep me under a certain weight. It was the first thing that fell by the wayside when I was stressed out, which was often.

~~~

My phone woke me at 1:00 a.m. It was my mom. My dog, who was 10 years old, had been sick for some time. He'd passed away in his sleep.

I got him when I was twelve. I saw a picture of Victor in a magazine, holding his new puppy Maccachin, an adorable little brown ball of fluff.

My dog was a brown poodle. His name was Victor. I hadn't seen him in three and a half years. I couldn't be there when he was sick. I let him down. And in the end I didn't get to say goodbye because I was a continent away doing something I was pretty sure I hated. So I was pretty sure I got what I deserved.

~~~

My long program was a disaster. I skated first because I was sixth after the short. I landed one jump: a triple toe loop that was supposed to be a quad. All Coach C was worried about was keeping me off the Internet. Later he'd tell me he wanted to hear me say I'd try again. But if he didn't have more faith in me than I did in myself, why would I even bother? He hadn't even watched either of my programs all the way through. After the second fall, he did as usual: Stepped back from the boards, hands folded behind his back, pretending to watch but really not. Because Yuri bombed again.

~~~

I'd gone into the men's room and closed the door on one of the stalls when I saw on my phone that my mom had called after my free skate. I called her and she told me she'd had a viewing party. She said that everyone was really disappointed that I hadn't done better. That broke me. I fell apart and was sobbing in the stall, praying no one came in. I could hear Victor's long program music faintly in the background. I'd wanted to see “Stay Close to Me” live just once, and I was too ashamed to leave the bathroom stall.

Then someone kicked it in and there stood the “Russian Punk”, a 15-year-old jumping bean and the Junior GP Champion that was being called the potential successor to Victor. He made fun of me for crying, told me to retire and that I was a loser. Tell me something I don't know.

His name was Yuri Plisetsky.

~~~

In the lobby after the long program, everyone was gathering to wait for the shuttle bus back to the hotel. The banquet was that night and I had no intention of going; in fact I wanted to leave but we couldn't change our flight reservations and were scheduled to leave late the next night. We'd planned it that way in case by some fluke I took a bronze and got to skate an exhibition. Bronze was all I'd been shooting for. It was a pretty lofty goal, clearly not one I could reach.

I was startled when I heard Victor's voice say my name. I looked to my left and he was walking past with Plisetsky, discussing his free program with him. They went to meet up with their coach and I started talking with someone who was encouraging me not to retire. I was sort of tuning it out, my mind wandering, and I found myself looking at Victor's back. I liked the Russian team jackets and was focusing on that when he turned his head to look at something to his left... and I saw his eyes shift to me behind him. I froze, terrified.

“Oh, you want a picture? Sure thing,” he said. Even in my absolute terror, I noticed something unusual about him: He looked... tired. Sad? I don't know.

Then I realized something. He thought I was a fan, because there were some mingling about getting autographs. I didn't even get noticed as the kid who bombed in sixth place, or the Japanese skater that made it in by sheer luck.

I turned around and left without saying another word, then commenced to agonize over it for the rest of the night. If I wasn't a loser before, I certainly was now, not to mention seriously rude. I assumed Plisetsky told him who I was after I walked away and I was sure when he found out who I was, he'd never even try to acknowledge me again... if I ever got another chance. Which, since I was pretty sure I wanted out, was probably going to be never.

~~~

Coach C wanted to go to the banquet. His job was done and he wanted to hang out with everyone. Why I was forced to go with him, I don't know. I didn't even feel like I was fit to be in the same room as these far better competitors, skaters I'd heard about and watched for years. Once Coach C disappeared after dinner I was on my own. I knew a couple of people personally but no one big.

I saw Victor, from behind, in a suit this time like we all were, talking with Christophe. It was well known that they were best friends, and there had been rumors in the skating forums online that it was more than that, though never confirmed. The fans shipped Victophe hardcore.

That was the first time I realized what my thing for Victor really was: When I suddenly, inexplicably, felt jealous.

I started drinking champagne, hoping it would boost my confidence and maybe I'd try to apologize to him for being rude. I hadn't eaten since the morning because I just really felt like figuratively dying, and being dragged there had just made it worse. I remember nothing after the third glass.

~~~

The next morning I woke up in my hotel bed in just my dress shirt and underwear. I smelled like champagne and felt awful. I had spills all over the shirt, which was ruined. On my left hand was some kind of ink smudge that I didn't remember getting. It looked like it had gotten wet and smeared. I thought it was one of those stamps they put on your hand to note that you're over 21 – I always got carded because I look 12 with my glasses on. Sometimes they'd use a sharpie marker instead and that's what this looked like; I could just make out one thing that looked like it might have been a number but I wasn't sure, and there was no way to tell now.

I had several texts from Coach C, so I called him and told him I was getting cleaned up. I saw as I sat eating breakfast, scrolling through my phone, that Victor had left with his team early that day to go back to St. Petersburg. After all, he had Russian Nationals in three weeks, he couldn't waste time hanging around when he needed to be in top form.

I was relieved I wouldn't run into him again because without alcohol, I knew I'd be a blathering idiot and probably make a fool of myself again... if he'd even give me the time of day.

~~~

I eventually found out a year later, at dinner in Barcelona the night before the GPF short program with many of the same skaters from that weekend, including Victor, what happened at the banquet. I came to find out that one of the things Phichit and I always talked about had actually happened. Over the years, through magazines, TV, online articles etc., it started to come out that Victor wasn't that stereotypical “scary Russian skater” that was all business and would step on you with his blades to win. He was competitive, sure and took it seriously, but he appeared to be a really down to earth, fun guy. We always joked about hanging out with him someday, if we ever got to meet him. So basically, the man of my dreams had blatantly hit on me, danced with me, even took off his suitcoat to play matador and bullfighter with a drunken, severely depressed Japanese skater. I had asked him to be my coach and invited him to visit my family's business at the end of the night.

It explained so much: Why he'd come on so strong when he came to Hasetsu. Why he seemed so familiar with me even though I was under the assumption we'd never actually met except for that one moment in the hotel lobby. At first, I agonized over totally missing out on that chance. But then I thought about who I was then. He was at the top of his game. I was giving up. Maybe we'd have become friends, but no one wants that kind of baggage holding them back when they're on top of the world. I had myself convinced it happened like it was supposed to.

Until today, when I found out that the smudge of ink I washed away in the shower, that had been blotted out probably when I spilled my own drink on it... had been his phone number. I can only assume he wrote it there with the sharpie he was carrying in his pocket – we all carry sharpies, there's fans everywhere at competitions and other places, even banquets if they're lucky – when I asked him to be my coach.

This should not have destroyed me today, but it did.

I left that competition completely lost and broken back then, and it catapulted me back into that mindset of missed opportunities, of being the kid that always fucked up. If only you'd done better. If only you'd stayed even marginally sober. If only, if only, if only.

If only I'd realized that the person who quite literally saved me from myself, had reached out well before I even knew I needed him, and most certainly before he knew I did. I'd been able to reconcile the banquet, figuring it was just that night and gone, and the only thing about not remembering was that I'll never remember what it was like to meet him for the first time and not be terrified. He and I were equals that night, having a blast and him being the person I'd read about him being. When we met again, not so much, at first. But I got to know that person eventually.

I don't even know why I was sent reeling by this today. I don't understand myself at all sometimes. I'm a roller coaster of highs and lows and I swear I can't have one with out the other. Practice was great today. I'd planned to write a very different story over on Twitter about something fun that happened, when he said one thing that just... I don't even know anymore.

Mila found me in the locker room bawling my eyes out and asked what was wrong. I didn't want to talk at first, I told her it was stupid and I didn't even know what my feelings were or why they were hurt. She dragged me off into one of the gym rooms – there weren't a lot of people there today so they were mostly empty – and I told her everything I've written here.

“You haven't put it to rest,” she said. “Everything in our lives connects. You look back and see why you were the person you were before, and you learn from it so you can change it now. But it doesn't mean you don't regret not doing things differently. The hurt comes from knowing you can't. You just have to move forward with what you are doing now. With him. Because even after everything, he still chose you. That's how you know it was meant to be.”

I told her I didn't understand why it even bothered me. I should have been like “are you serious? Really?” and laughed it off. Instead it gutted me and I felt like an idiot. I felt stupid for my reaction and I couldn't even look at him at that moment. The emotion was pretty much the same as that moment in the lobby over a year ago.

“Because you got used to letting everyone down, including yourself. And hearing that it happened again with the most important person in your life just hit you wrong. You're afraid it's going to happen again. You have to remember where you are now. You’re learning how to do things right, you’re growing up even if it’s late. You're with him and that's all that matters,” she said.

And then she decided that I needed to smile, and picked me up and threw me on top of a bunch of cushions in the gym room. Because if you haven't been bench pressed by Mila, you're not really friends. I passed that initiation. In Hasetsu, I had Yuko. I'd like to think that in St. Petersburg, I'll have Mila, if she'll put up with me too.

I'll still probably tell him I'm sorry when I can get myself together enough to look at him again. Because I am, for him having to deal with all of this now, as he has been since this side of me surfaced at Cup of China. I'm hoping I'll move past all of this some day, that feeling that I was never good enough, and always missed out and messed up when it came down to the wire because I didn't do enough or do it right... and the fear that somehow, I'll screw everything up again. But I guess today was not that day.

#victor nikiforov #i don't even know