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vanaera · 4 years

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Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them. For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

“Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

“Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

“Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

“And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

“First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

“Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

“In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

“And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

“But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

“What’s that got to do with this?!”

“—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

“Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

“Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

“That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

“Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

“That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

“Like what?”

“You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

“But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!”

“Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

“That’s science and faith!”

“Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

“Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

“No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

“Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

“According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.”

Y/N slaps his hand away.

Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.”

Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.”

Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

“Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

“No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

“You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

“I just decided I want to go home.”

“Why?”

Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

“Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

“It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

“Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

"Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

"I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

"But you already got lots of friends.”

Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.”

Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true.

Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

“Do-do you really mean that?”

Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

“Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

“No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

“It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said."

"But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

“If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures. Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

“Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

“Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

“Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

“No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right? I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

“Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

“Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures.

Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes.

Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

"And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

“Y/N, I like you.”

YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

“I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

“W-what?”

“I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

“Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today. And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it.

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

“No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“W-what is it?”

“I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

“What?”

“I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

“Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

“I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

“I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that.

Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

“Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

“No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

“Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

“I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

“H-Hobi–”

“S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

“Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

“What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be. How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

“No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere. In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

“Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well. He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

“Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

“It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

“What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

“Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

“Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

“But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

“W-what?”

Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

“Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

“Is it that bad?”

“Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

“I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

“When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

“I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

“No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life. Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

“You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering.

Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship.

Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”). Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day.

Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

“Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

“Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

“Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

“O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

“Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

“It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

“No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

“What plans?”

Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

“Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

“Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

“Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

“Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.” She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

“Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

But it does not.

For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar.

Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks.

She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

“W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

“R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.”

Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands.

Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color. Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss.

Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two.

And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time. After all, Hoseok is right. She is Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

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twilightknight17 · 4 years

Text

Goodbyes! Endings! Fish! Yelling!

This ending wraps up better than the original, but still leaves some things.

There is so much in this game that one loop is absolutely not enough to see and do it all.

Where last we left our intrepid idiot, he was buying flowers for his White Day dinner date.

Surely I will be allowed to leave the mall and sell my stuff and visit the Velvet Room. After all, what if I spent every last yen on items to use against the final boss? I would have no money for flowers!

But no. I am imprisoned in the mall and Morgana somehow pays for the flowers. Hanasaki has no comment on this except to wish me luck on my date. Wow.

Sojiro, who the heck do you know that your name got us a table at a fully booked formal restaurant??

Okay so this isn’t the Skytree restaurant, but SOJIRO??

....yep. That’s me. Even when someone else’s wishes mean destroying my heart. Probably hypocritical to say that while I’m on a date, though.

So it feels like there’s more people you can talk to on the last walkaround. Not just your confidants, but random people in the street, and other named characters. Mika’s at Seaside Park, Takakura, from Haru’s social link, is in Kichijoji, Dietman Matsushita is in the Scramble, the little girl from Takemi’s social link is in Yongen with her dad...

.......you’re so poetic, Yusuke. That’s lovely.

Finally, an ad perfectly tailored to me.

Maruki’s friend is in Kichijoji, and wants to know if we’ve heard from him. We have not. We are not friends. But apparently he’s still alive, which... hm.

I’m tired of his crazy stuff, sir. I just want to see my friends and go on a roadtrip in peace, thank you.

I’d never noticed before that Morgana’s eyes glow if you use third eye.

.......

So if you go to the jazz bar, you can basically have the conversation with the manager from Proof of Justice.

He’s surprised when Akira says he doesn’t know, because he never saw Goro with anyone else. He’s also worried, because he hasn’t seen Goro in a while, and wants Akira to tell him to stop by. Akira is briefly melancholy, thinking to himself, “But Akechi is already...” But then he finds Goro’s glove, still safely in his pocket, and reminds himself that their fight isn’t over yet. The jazz manager says he’s looking forward to seeing you both come in together again.

It is, Morgana! I really want this sofa. This is my sofa. It was made for me; just look at it!

ARSENE. IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, I’M SORRY FOR FORGETTING YOU IN LOCKDOWN. IT WOULD TAKE TEN HOURS TO REVERT TO A PRIOR SAVE AND COME BACK. LAVENZA GAVE ME A KEY AS A GIFT BUT WON’T LET ME IN. IT’S NOT MY FAULT.

....is this why Ryoji’s Arcana is Fortune? XD

So you can talk to a random idol singer from a Mementos mission in Akihabara and

what the fuck is this. what bonus does this give me?

Sumire is not present for the final walkaround, which is...weird. No relationship trinket? That’s disappointing. Especially considering I got a gift from some random idol.

And now it’s time for the ending. The kids are worried about being watched/pursued by the suspicious black car, which honestly, I’ve had enough suspicious black cars in relation to Persona to know that whoever this is, is not good news, police or not. ;)

But instead of sabotaging their car, don’t worry, a taxi is here to take Akira to the train station while his friends distract the men in black!

......did you dye your hair??

Anyway Akira has no sense of self-preservation because here he goes getting in a car alone with this guy.

We are not friends. I am not fistbumping you.

He does drop Akira off safely. Akira’s friends swing by for one last speedy goodbye and then are off again on a merry chase, and Akira goes home alone except for Morgana, which I have...several feelings about. The game goes out of its way to demonstrate that Goro is still alive even if Akira misses seeing him, because the whole world is based on what each person sees and feels, and Akira fucking feels in his heart that Goro is still alive and will come back to him one day.

Time to open up the other save and burn two weeks to see the Palace failure condition!

...I still sort of want to do this over and rescue Arsene. It’s not like I have much else to do these days. I just want my unholy powerhouse Arsene for NG+...

Heck.

Anyway, I’ve also learned that having two weeks to burn with no other responsibilities is great for grinding stuff for the awards. I spent like a week straight at the fishing pond and have become a Fishing God. Did you know that there’s an even bigger fish than the Guardian? Fishing pond guy was like, “In this weather, you might see...him.”

Look at this ridiculous fucking fish. XDDDD

I also went to the batting cages and I still suck at batting, but I made it eventually. The home run award is terrifying.

Okay, still a few days left, lets go play billiards, since I never went and did that during the game. I guess I’ll pick up this billiards book this guy recommends, too. I dunno why I need to be better at billiards, though, it just gives everybody social link poi--

....what the fuck is this??? This only unlocks after you read the book? You can guarantee a knockdown if you have max technical rank?? You need at least four days, 2 books, and a really expensive pool cue for this??? Akechi’s only response to you pulling off some ridiculous curved shot is, “That was pretty good”???? I made it through the whole game thinking billiards was just some way to increase everyone’s social link at once????? Aaaaaaaah??????

Morgana gets very upset the closer you get to the deadline. “We HAVE to go to the Palace tomorrow!” Okay, but have you considered...going to the temple for meditation?

...oops. He’s already mad. X’D Meditation?

Now, now, honey, don’t worry, we can technically still go tomorrow afternoon and just send the calling card when we get back. It’s fine. Today I’m gonna hang out with Shinya. Everything is under control.

....Akira, NO.

Anyway, for all of Goro’s grumpiness, he doesn’t turn down an invitation to the jazz club. Hey, it’s only fair, darling, you took me out for drinks the night before the interrogation room.

It’s only right that I return the favor the night before I betray you in return.

You showed me this place, dingus. XD

...I am. Sorry, Goro.

Akira goes to sleep the evening of 2/2 wondering if he made the right decision. That’s the problem, ‘Kira, you didn’t make a decision at all.

“I wanted you to accept my reality of your own free will.”

DON’T LIKE THAT.

Lavenza trying to reach him and just...fading away is painful.

I will say without hesitation that this is the worst ending. To copy-paste what I said elsewhere:

Akira's sleeping in the attic. Presumably for months, given the cobwebs. Where are his friends? Fallen back into their own dreams? Did they just give in without him, forget about him, never wonder where he went, because they have what they wanted? And Goro didn't even have a dream, so he's presumably left alone in a world that he can't stand but can't do anything about because it's permanent now. Maruki can't even give him Akira, because Akira's asleep, and Goro probably feels betrayed anyway. Akira's going to sleep forever, forgotten by everyone who was supposed to care about him. Even if he regrets choosing the dream world in that ending, at least he's there.

I think what's throwing me off is Maruki's absolute insistence on not changing Akira and Goro's cognition without their consent. Putting Akira to sleep feels like a loophole, but if he really believes that Goro is just a creation of his power, maybe Akira's consent is the only one that actually matters to him.

He's only ever really concerned with asking Akira. He even says on 2/2 that he knows Goro's not going to be fazed by the idea of his life being in danger. But if Akira agrees to stay in the fake reality, Goro's happy along with the rest of them, even though there's no way he agreed with Akira's decision. Maybe Maruki's willing to alter Goro to match Akira's wishes because he thinks he's not the real one. As long as Akira wants the real Goro, he doesn't have to worry about being overwritten. But if Akira's sleeping...

Maruki’s so kind, isn’t he?

The true ending feels so much more like it would lead into Scramble than vanilla. Still being chased by the police? Yeah. Everyone splitting up and therefore being out of touch for months? Yep. Seeing Joker in the window? Meta-space is still there and ready to warp into a Jail at the slightest nudge. I don’t understand Atlus’s writing decisions.

That whole thing with Goro does mean they owe us an actual sequel. The game literally says their fight isn’t over.

Beating the game means everyone is in the Thieves Den now, so we get some lovely interactions like Sojiro contemplating the Mona copter, and Makoto warning Ann not to tell Goro that she thinks Loki looks like a zebra.

Also that idol CD is some kind of ridiculous bubblegum idol pop song on my music player now. For one coin. Oh my god.

So... I guess the last thing I want to mention is Maruki. Because he’s a great character. I want to punch him more than I got to. But, and I’ve talked about this with a friend, I cannot wrap my head around how powerful he is. Takuto Maruki is a human being with a persona, just like the Thieves, and there is no explanation for how he got that strong. Yes, his persona is an elder god that evolves into some kind of creation deity, but it’s still just his persona. It’s not like Nyarlathotep acting as someone’s persona while still being a separate, ridiculously powerful entity. There’s no indication here that Azathoth or Adam are independent from their user. So I’m expected to believe that this man awoke to his persona and was able to use a power on-par with the God of Control...just from himself? No deity or monster backing him up? Really? I know he made a career studying cognitive psience, but this is...a little much. Having Nyar around would have cleared that up just from his general presence. XD

Anyway, I loved it. I loved absolutely all of it even if Okumura’s boss fight was a bitch. I think I’ve unfortunately made the decision to go back for Arsene, so I’m definitely going to play NG+ after I take a break to play something else first.

There’s three bonus bosses and the Reaper left to fight, after all. ;)

#Li plays P5R #I'm only missing one trophy #the one for beating the Reaper #meanwhile the ingame award wants me to beat the Reaper FIVE TIMES #ugh XD

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thewritewolf · 4 years

Text

Eating Habits Chapter 8: Sick Day

Marinette is bed ridden and who better to take care of her than Adrien?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Marinette was miserable.

There were orders to fill and events to organize and clubs to lead. Above it all was the looming deadline at the end of the semester, a date that was uncomfortably close as November was about to roll around. She couldn’t afford wasted days, not now. Not when everything was coming to a head all at once.

And yet, here she was. Bed ridden with a cold, of all things. Two days into it and feeling no better than she had after collapsing into her bed yesterday. Tikki swore up and down that the power of creation infused in the Ladybug miraculous would make her heal faster, but apparently her body was already pushed to its limits with everything she had been doing.

She whimpered into the stuffy, warm gloom of her room (or maybe that was just her that was warm) as her headache flared up again thanks to a sneezing fit. Being sick sucked.

Her door opened, pulling back the comforting layer of darkness and she groaned. After adjusting to the sudden light, she blinked up at the patiently smiling face of her boyfriend. A smile that proved to be infectious, especially with the delicious smell coming up from the steaming bowl he was carrying.

“Hey, bedbug. Feeling any better?” He pulled up a seat as she sat up. Once she had resituated herself, he passed her the bowl. Her nose was still stuffed up, so she couldn’t quite place the scent, but she knew she loved it already.

“No, not really,” she said, wincing internally at how distorted and weak her own voice sounded. She stirred at the food in front of her, unsure if she was hungry or not.

“Not feeling potato soup? I could make something else, but you really should eat. It’ll help you get better faster.”

“No, no it’s fine. My stomach is just being weird is all.”

“Eat what you can, even if it’s just a spoonful. There’s more if you want it, but if not I can store it away for when your stomach is more cooperative.” Adrien watched as she took a few tentative bites. It was as good as she was expecting it to be, making it easier to force down some of the food. “You don’t usually get sick like this. What’s different this time?”

“The difference is that she is pushing herself so thin even the power of creation is having trouble keeping her hale and fit. After all that stress from the midterm tests it was inevitable.”

Marinette tilted her head up at Tikki curled up on the headboard and pouted at the kwami. Huffing in irritation, Marinette looked away and grumbled, “Tattletale…”

“We’ll talk about that later, my lady,” Adrien said with a stern look at her. “Try to relax for now. I’ll crash here until you feel better.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“I kinda do, since you are in no shape to take care of yourself right now. And even if you were, I’d still want to help keep an eye on you. We’re a team, after all.”

A small, warm smile found its way onto her face. She was so glad to have him in her life, especially as her boyfriend. Sometimes she had no idea where she would be without him.

“Okay, lovebug. I’m gonna let you get your rest now.” Adrien placed a kiss on the pads of his pointer finger and middle finger and then quickly pressed them to her cheek. She giggled at his proxy kisses, which he devised after she forbade him from kissing her while she was sick.

As the door closed, Marinette was still miserable. But Adrien made her feel a little less miserable.

-----------------

Adrien gathered the dirty dishes out of the living room and took them into the kitchen, all the while humming a song. Which song it was, he wasn’t entirely sure. More than likely, it was one of the ones that he had practiced on the piano so frequently as a teenager that had just got imprinted in his brain forever. Even after he’d stopped playing, though that was more because of a lack of piano than a lack of desire.

The cheerful melody didn’t do much to fight back the building worry in the back of his head. How much was she really neglecting? Did she clean up only when she was expecting him over? Was this part of the reason she got sick? With all the glasses and bowls and plates he’d scavenged out of her various ‘workplaces’ (i.e. anywhere she had spent laboring over a design), he was surprised she hadn’t been reduced to eating off of paper towels.

He left them to soak while he prowled the tiny apartment for any other surprises.

It had come as a shock to everyone else when it was discovered that Adrien enjoyed doing household chores. Granted, he didn’t start doing them himself until after he moved in with the Dupain-Chengs. Something about the repetition and the satisfaction of seeing things improve by his own hands… it was definitely something that he had needed after everything that had happened. Maybe it was the sense of normalcy that he got from doing things for himself after a lifetime of everyone else taking that decision away from him.

Regardless, his quick scouring brought up a messy heap of dirty clothes and a similarly disorganized pile of clean clothes. He threw a load of what he hoped was the dirty clothes into the washer and got started on folding the presumably clean pile. Well, as clean as clothes that had been left on the floor for kwamis only knows how long could be.

A quick vacuuming and Adrien returned to the dishes. After making appreciable headway, there was a knock on the door. He narrowed his eyes and hoped that it wasn’t her landlord. That man was sleazy and taxed even Adrien’s patience. He dried off his hands and went to the door, opening it a crack.

Alya grinned at him from the other side. “Hey, blondie! I got some stuff for our girl. Care to let me in?”

Adrien’s scowl melted into a grin. “Sure thing! What’ve you got for us?”

“Groceries, medicine, some tea from Sabine,” she said as she dropped two paper bags onto the counter. “That sort of thing.” Her eyes roved the room. “I see someone’s made themselves useful. Good to know you’ll make a great trophy husband for our little fashion powerhouse.” Alya winked and Adrien felt his cheeks heat up at the thought of marrying Marinette.

“She deserves the extra help, you know?” He started unpacking the bags and putting them away. “She’s in her room if you want to say hi.” Alya swallowed heavily as she looked toward the bedroom door, dread in her eyes. “I know she’d appreciate it.”

“Low blow, Agreste,” Alya said. She groaned. “If I get sick then it’s on you.”

Adrien chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Why aren’t you worried, anyway?” Plagg asked as Alya went to chat with Marinette. “Just in case your animes have given you the wrong ideas, let me remind you: The power of love doesn’t actually stop you from getting sick.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adrien said while rolling his eyes. “But I’m pretty stress free, I have a work out regime and I eat healthily. Marinette, despite my best efforts, has none of those things. I’m not too worried about me.”

A few minutes passed with just the clinking of the dishes and his hummed song filling the air. Before long, Alya came back out and leaned against the sink where Adrien was washing dishes. After grilling him for a little while how bad Marinette’s sickness was, and what he was doing to help, the conversation shifted to him.

“So how’s it been going, blondie? Figure out what you want to do yet?”

Adrien shrugged. “For now, I’m happy working at the bakery and watching out for Marinette.” He smiled. “Both of those things keep me pretty busy.”

“I can imagine,” Alya said with a smirk. “Plenty of doors are open for you, whatever you end up deciding. What about up here?” She tapped the side of his head. “Anything to report?”

“...Some days are better than others. Some days are worse. I can’t really complain.”

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know.”

Adrien looked at Alya and saw the worry in her eyes. “I know.”

“Have you considered getting professional help? Nino swears by it.”

“Speaking of, it sounds like he put you up to this.”

“Nah, but we both came up with it, so it must be a good idea, huh?”

“I guess…”

They stood in silence for a few moments before Alya moved away from the sink. He was surprised to feel her pat him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good guy, Adrien. I’m glad Marinette has you. Just remember that you have her too, okay?” At his nod, she removed her hand. “Good luck, big cat.”

The door closed behind her and Adrien stared into the soapy waters that his hands were submerged in. A soft smile was reflected back up at him.

-----------

“I’m worried about her, Adrien,” Tikki said as she floated above him.

He looked around the room one last time, making sure that he had packed everything that he had brought over. After he grabs his toothbrush from the bathroom, he should be ready to head back to his apartment.

“I am too. Which is why I’m going to double down and make sure that she is getting the proper care she deserves.” He zipped up his duffle bag and set it on his bed of the last four days, the living room couch. “I don’t want to do this all again when her finals roll around.”

“It’s not just the finals I’m worried about.” Tikki landed on his palm and sagged. “This is just the first semester! There will be more to come and it’s only going to get more serious from here!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there, making sure she’s taking care of herself. Even if I have to do it myself.”

“That’s the thing - you can’t be there for her all the time. It takes a while for you to come over here or to her university, not to mention the extra hours you’re taking at the bakery. And no,” she added when Adrien was about to interject, “that doesn’t mean I want you to quit your job just to be her caretaker.”

But Adrien thought maybe there was a way for him to be there for her all the time. Or at least, pretty close to it. The gears began turning in his mind for a new plan.

--------------

Adrien never thought he’d love to see his apartment building, but here he was, sighing contently as he set his duffle bag on his living room table. There would be plenty of time to unpack it later.

As much as he hated seeing her sick, he was glad he had been able to help her. Hopefully she wouldn’t be mad about him cleaning up, but knowing her, she wouldn’t mind. Unless he happened to have moved her art things without realizing it, in which case she might very well tear him to pieces. He chuckled to himself and went down to the mailroom. Maybe he’d gotten something worthwhile in the past four days.

Walking back upstairs with the mail in hand, he began shuffling through them. Offers from banks (who wanted his money), universities (who wanted the boost his fame would bring), and a few modeling firms (who wanted his talent all to themselves). Adrien rolled his eyes. Just a bunch of strangers giving him attention for all the wrong reasons. The same song and dance he’d dealt with for almost his entire life. Not really worth getting bent out of shape over.

His back stiffened when he saw the first letter from his father. With a shudder he sorted it to the bottom of the pile. He wasn’t about to let his day get ruined by him. Not again. Slightly shaken, he kept shuffling.

His heart skipped a beat when the second letter was revealed. Belatedly, he realized he’d made it to his apartment door and gratefully shifted his entire attention toward opening it and walking inside. Gritting his teeth, he sent that one to the bottom as well.

Which revealed the third and final letter.

Adrien’s breath was coming in ragged now and his heart was pounding. With fumbling hands, he fished out all three and forcefully shoved them in a quickly filling basket with all the others.

“Hey, kid anything good-” Plagg cut himself off and froze halfway from rising from his den in the kitchen cabinets. His eyes were concerned as he asked, “What the hell happened to you?” Adrien opened his mouth but couldn’t find the right words. He glanced at the letter basket and Plagg narrowed his eyes. “I see.”

“I think… I could use a drink. Maybe take it easy for the rest of the day. Watch some television?”

Plagg watched him pour a glass of white wine and take a seat on the couch. While Adrien was searching through the channels to find something to take his mind off things, Plagg curled up against his neck and purred.

The sensation was enough to calm the frantic pace of his heart.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Tikki #Plagg #Alya Cesaire #ml fanfiction #my writing #Eating Habits #The Lucky One series

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myfriendpokey · 5 years

Text

50 Short Years!

This January makes a full 5 years since releasing 50 Short Games!

I admit, it is weird to think about.

In general I don’t have very strong feelings about anything I’ve worked on, since anything like that has usually burnt itself out somewhere in the process of making the thing.

But it feels a little startling that this particular game came out 5 years ago, because in many ways I feel like I’m still working somewhere in it’s orbit – it still feels “close” to me in terms of, I guess, setting up the way I’ve been thinking about and working on these things ever since then. I still feel like I’m working out some of the stuff that came up in its production.. compare to older games which can feel like they were made by different, mercifully forgotten, people.

The game is temporarily discounted on itch down to just $1, until valentine’s day - good for friends, good for lovers.

When this first came out, I included a big note file of the processes and ideas and etc that went into it. I have posted that to my website for free to mark this little anniversary. But since a decent bit of time has passed since those impressions, and since I don’t feel like refreshing them, I thought it might be interesting to try writing up a sort of “afterlife” of this game, specifically the ways it sort of covertly turned out to influence what I did for the 5 years after it, as well.

Here are my notes seperated by theme.

- colour - mice - pacing - work / life - gameplay - theme - writing - distribution

- COLOUR: this is a strange one. 50SG felt like the first time I was really aware of / interested in trying to add “colour” as an element I could play with within my games, trying to add it to the lego set along with “rocks” and “little guys”. More colours, interesting colours, colour combinations, games which would be colourful as images. Because I’ve never actually been a very visual person (surprise surprise ha ha ha) and even when I draw, or sculpt, I tend to focus on lines and omit colour as much as possible... When I was a kid I disliked any kind of colouring or painting, as opposed to scribbling, but just before 50SG I’d been working on an uncompleted game with painted textures, and enjoyed it enough to want to explore the effects more.

The reason I call this a strange one is that, mostly - - I failed!!! I feel very aware now of how much of this game is just scratchy line drawings, how little colours are actually used once I'd worked out which ones I preferred working with from the set. I did try to change things up over the course of the series and some games (specifically the Mogey ones) tried to use flat colour or colour patterns more. But when I think about the game now the memories I mostly have are of essentially monochrome or mostly-monochrome drawings.

In fairness, some of this was technical too - I never had any kind of consistent way to light my pictures for when I was photographing them, and a lot of the time the bright markers came out muddy, which sort of discouraged me from trying to do anything specifically with colour effects. Strong lines are also a lot easier to chop up into discrete little game-shapes.

But I think this sense of missed opportunity - having this big bag of markers in all colours, all translucent lines, and not really using them - was specifically what made me spend the next few years trying to work with colour even more. Hence stuff like Mouse Corp, and certain entries in the Hardpack 11-in-1, and Magic Wand. I think I moved more towards pixel art again because it gave me a very quick way to play with colours, and swap them in and out, without having to worry about correctly photographing them first. And in fact my current game came about directly from trying to play more with ideas of translucent outline sprites on top of flat fields of colour – trying to combine colour with line in a looser way than just colouring stuff in.

I'd like to go back to playing with markers some time.

- MICE: I think this was the first time I used mice in my games. Previously the emblematic animal was the Dog – Murder Dog, Goblet Grotto dog... The dog is a "LAWFUL" animal, one which can be aimlessly malevolent on behalf of some higher system or master. The dog stands in for the implicit malignity of the game system as a whole.

Meanwhile, mouse is the "UNLAWFUL" animal - they live in spaces they do not construct, and scavenge from what they find within, they are constrained by those spaces but also have something of an independent life within them. By this time, I had been working on a lot of games where the gameworld itself was sort of an ominous presence - Crime Zone, Goblet Grotto, Drill Killer etc - and I think the move from "dog" to "mouse" came about as a way to think about these spaces as just kind of indeterminate and abandoned instead of actively malign. Places which don't really notice your being there, which were constructed and then left for some unknowable purpose. I cannot say if this shift in thinking is good or bad.

- PACING: I forget whether I mention it in the notes - but the prototype for all the marker games was an earlier one-off called "Gold's Enigma", done with crayons and in Klik N Play. And that game felt like sort of a revelation because it was so quick to just add new areas to it, or copy and paste elements around, or switch from one game control system or mode of representation to another. So you could have an extremely short, quick game that still contained enough of a shift to make you feel like you’d gone somewhere or like the view from one side of the game was different to the view from the other. I don’t know how consistently or successfully this was ever really done (the end of Happy Bird is my personal favourite version) but it did stick in my head, as an ideal to work towards. And I think something like the more longform Magic Wand was still sort of driven by a desire to try a “fuller” take on this same idea.

- WORK / LIFE: I don't remember exactly but I think this was my first time successfully trying to start a new, slightly longform project while also having a day job. With other games either they were short enough for me to just blow through in a concentrated rush or else enough pieces had already been laid down (eg Goblet Grotto) that I could just brainlessly slam together any remaining levels in the mornings before I went to work. Making games as a hobby isn't necessarily hard but figuring out how to do it consistently over long periods took me a long adjustment period. For the short games I ended up doodling ideas at lunch, coming home, eating dinner, and then around 7 or 8 I'd start chopping up my image sheets and putting them into the game. And hope to finish by 11 so I wouldn't be too wiped the next day. These days it's more like 8-10pm. Working in the early mornings can be good if you're very determinedly getting through some pre-assigned tasks but can be harder and more frustrating if you're trying to be more exploratory about things. I guess to the extent I’d draw any lesson from this it’d be, set aside a very specific time period for working on stuff but also try to have a process where “working on stuff” can involve a certain level of constructive busywork just so you don’t come home and have to immediately face a blank page? “Placing stuff around on a screen” is ultimately what absorbs me so working in a way that let me do that as quickly and aimlessly as possible helped a lot. Well, that’s my opinion.

- GAMEPLAY: I used the default 8-directional walk system in MMF2, and the default screen-follows-the-player function, so many times in the course of these games that I just burnt myself out on them entirely. They’re fine, but using them so many times over a brief period made me more and more conscious of them to the point where it could feel like I was just filling in the same template each time... I think part of why I shifted to Unity, even though it’s more of a hassle, is just to be able to escape that sense of a singular unchangeable “point of view” and make things where moving or looking around would feel a bit looser and less set in stone. I hope this helps explain my gradual, doomed love affair with extremely idiosyncratic camera systems.

- THEME: Did any themes carry over to any of my post-50SG games? Maybe some but to me it’s less noticeable than seeing what was stripped out. Having a deadline and a very fixed scope did sort of push me more towards including “real world content” in whatever strange way – dreams, specific moments of the early morning or the night, events like work nights out, locations I knew... Compare that to the longer games I’ve done which all kind of take place in these dreamy, private fantasy dimensions. I enjoy that too, and it’s easier to do that when you’re making a game that’s just sort of endlessly adding to itself over time.. It’d be good to get back to working in a way which encouraged that material connection.

- WRITING: I think the notes file that came with 50SG was the first time I did any real writing about the process of making these things, or ideas and notes, etc. And now I can’t shut up!! Well, I did a similar writeup document for Magic Wand, and hope to do so with my current game eventually as well. I think writing that, and having people be encouraging about it, did help me become more interested in looking at and recording the state of my brain as it’s slowly rotted into goop from exposure to these terrible machines. Which is in itself not a bad reason to keep doing it.

- DISTRIBUTION: This was my first commercial game and probably the biggest impact of that was in getting me to move away from PC-only tools. I'd planned a mac version of this game at some point, or specifically to do HTML versions and then use a workaround I'd read about to convert HTML files to Mac and Linux apps... but the HTML conversion sometimes led to strange bugs, and I never had a testing computer to see whether the actual ports would work, and the multiple layers of things that could go wrong (making a html export, to be put into a mac or linux wrapper, to be loaded from a Unity scene...) eventually made me slowly give up on this. I think of getting back to it but to be honest I have such limited energy and for the five months a year I don't just want to hibernate I'd rather keep working on new projects.... I am sorry.... Well, this was a big impetus to try moving to pure Unity and HTML which had more multiplatform support from the get-go. I don't know if I took any other commercial lessons from it! It sold around 500 copies, and talking to other people making weird scrappy narrative type games it sounded like they mostly also sold 500 copies, maybe to the same people or maybe just to each other. At this level of economic activity you can just do what you like.

So in conclusion 50 Short Games is a land of contrasts. It feels distant to me, I don't have any strong feelings about it anymore, but I also feel sort of like I'm still moving around in the terrain this game originally sketched out for me, and still kind of responding to it in either positive or negative forms. Thank you to anyone who bought it. I just put it on sale again to mark the five year anniversary, you can find it on itch.io, gamejolt or kartridge. Please buy several hundred copies and salt them around through hidden disc drives buried in a desert somewhere so that some day they can inspire some form of apocalypse cult.

In the year 2525 if man is still alive if woman, still survives they will find.....

- stephen 2019

#vgames #50 short games #indie games #gamechat #game criticism #notes

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lemonflavouredspatula · 5 years

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Tagging Game

tagged by @sdewan6 (thank youuuuuuu:))

Rules: answer 21 questions and then tag 21 people who you want to get to know better. (bold of you to assume i know 21 people)

Nicknames: Luce, Loops, Loopy, Lucifer, Satan (i’m not evil, my name just means the same as Lucifer sooooo ye)

Zodiac: Capricorn

Height: 5′ 10″

Last movie I saw: I can’t tell you the last film i actually put on and sat down to watch cos i can’t remember lmao, but there was a film that came on after something i was watching the other day called the maiden heist(?) i think??? it had william h macy, morgan freeman and christopher walken and they were all like horny for art it was weird but yeah that happened

Last thing I googled: okay no this is too funny so i just googled the exact definition of bigot cos i needed it and this is what came up

I died

(apparently it only comes up if you accidentally type ‘bigoty’ definition which i may or may not have done lmao but nonetheless, trump is the definition according to google and i, personally, 110% agree)

Favorite Musician: Tonight Alive is my all time fav band but classical wise it’s my main man Shosty

Song stuck in my head: heaven by bryan adams cos i've used it in the fic i’m writing and you can bet your arse it’s for a sad reason (i love my harringrove boys, i do, but this fic is currently 20k words of heartbreak and i’m not sorry, pls love me)

Other blogs: i have one but i barely ever use it and it’s just filled with sad shit tbh, i only ever use it when i’m mentally in a v bad place and tbh it probably doesn’t help but LOL oh well, queen of self destruction me

Do I get asks: occasionally and i treasure each and every single one like a dog does its human

Following: 1958 lmao

Amount of sleep: 6 hours on a weekday probably but like maybe 8 on the weekend providing my mental health is okay™, if not then like 4 maybe

Lucky Number: 10

What I’m wearing: grey ripped jeans, a black t shirt and my school leavers hoodie

Dream job: can i get paid to write fanfic for a living? I do that whilst i’m at work now lmao. But seriously, classical flautist in a classical orchestra would be my ultimate dream yet i currently work in tv go figure (i did previously want to be an editor but since having this job and being able to do some of the edit, i have realised that mentally i cannot cope with 12 hour days stuck looking at a screen in the same bleak office with strict deadlines and arsehole supervisors so yeah, tv is fun and all, i like the fact that you’re not bound to the same people forever and there are some lovely people in the industry, the hours make you go mad granted but i get to drive the actors around and stuff in my current job and they are lovely, but i need something more creative and freeing and yeah, i like my job, i really do, but i think mentally it is having a negative impact on me and that isn’t great™) music has always been the one thing i fall back to and never really leave though so if i can’t get paid to write fanfic for a living then i guess i’ll have to go with that lmao (jks, music is my life i can’t live without it, i need to work in music to stay somewhat sane)

Dream trip: travelling round Scandinavia because it’s all so pretty and also maybe a visit to Ōkunoshima island becuase so. many. BUNNIES.

Favorite Food: any and all fruit, mainly strawberries, kiwis and pears though like omG they are a blessing but yes give me fruit all day every day

Do you play any instruments?: i play the flute mainly and i love it with my whole heart, but i can also play piano, sing and dabble on violin and guitar

Languages: I speak English fluently, but i know a bit of Italian, very basic Norwegian and i studied Spanish for like 4 years so i think i’d probably know a bit if i tried lmao (my teacher was s h i t)

Favourite songs: Power of One by Tonight Alive is like an all time fav of mine and 'Non Mi Avete Fatto Niente' by Ermal Meta&Fabrizio Moro has a very firm forever place in my heart but i’m currently obsessed with ‘Dance Like Nobody’s Watching’ - Saara Aalto, ‘Go Beyond’ - Rasmussen, ‘Чудова Мить’ - Mélovin, Candlelight - Jack Savoretti, La Venda - Miki Nuñez and Freaks - Jordan Clarke because i’m still in denial about our entry (i am severe eurovision trash if that wasn’t obvious lmao) but there are so many i love and like it depends what mood i’m in, they can all be my fav in that moment but you’ve caught me on a good day so you get the happy ones, not the really sad and depressing ones that would make everyone severely worry about my mental health lmao

Random Fact: i have metal plates in both of my knees cos i used to be a wonky bitch

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: a long drive through the night, warm enough to have the windows down but not too warm it’s uncomfortable, you’re favourite album is on repeat, the sky so clear you can see each and every star lighting your way, feeling so relaxed, there isn’t a single thing bothering you or making the moment seem less than what it is, it’s just seconds, minutes, hours of unwavering, blissful, happiness, it doesn’t solve your problems, but it makes you feel the best you’ve felt in a while. (whelp that got out of hand, but my god do that if you never have, it is so f r e e i n g)

Tagging: @billyscamar0 @harringtons-bf @billnsteve @absolutedad @call-me-haley @uncle-keery @bananase221 @pretty-pendragon @spacegaiys and literally anyone else out there who wants to do it, i tag you all

feel free to ignore, i won’t take it personally lmao

#spatula rambles

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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 5 years

Text

Rose Appreciation Week 2k19| Day 3: Favorite Ship| “Angel -- Pt. 2/2″

Again, Ladybug ain’t mine.

I’m posting this past the R.A.W. deadline, but hopefully it’s still good.

[Link to Part 1.]

[Link to AU.] (to be added)

So, if you didn’t read Part 1 or the foreword to that, this will make no sense whatsoever. I’m doing some weird things with Rose’s character, I thought they were cool, so... anyway, I’m sorry if it’s rushed or paced awkwardly, I finished this up in a rush and I may have missed some stuff. Anyway, if you have any notes on my writing style, or if you’re confused about my Superhero AU, feel free to shoot me an ask and I’ll make sure to respond if I can.

(again, warning for OCs, violence, and language).

The bolt sticking out of Leo’s arm was starting to smoke around the wound. De Sang pushed the other two aside. “Aspen,” she guessed, looking at the shaft. “Be very careful when removing it, you might break it, and that will keep burning him if he doesn’t get it all out.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “The longer it stays, the worse.”

She took a firm grasp of the offending object and, apologizing, pulled slowly. The flesh resisted, and Leo groaned in pain, but deliberate tension won over and the projectile was removed.

She examined it. “Intact,” she judged, relieved, tossing it aside, looking at Leo worriedly. “Does that feel better?”

He choked out, “A little.”

De Sang looked at his shoulder, peeling up the scorched edges of his shirt. “The burn’s not spreading. That’s good.”

She heard the whistle and acted on impulse, spinning around to whack the next bolt out of the air with her baton. “That was a slow reload!” she shouted, sounding almost disappointed. “Even for a member of the Iron Cross!”

“Iron Cross!” Aria snapped to attention. “They’re here?”

The hero told Leo, “Get some iodine, that’ll disinfect it.” And to all of them, “Make yourselves scarce, we’ve got someone who actually knows what they’re doing. Stage entrance, I’ll draw their fire.” At some of their worried faces, she smiled and nodded, assuring. “I’ll be fine. I survived you three, didn’t I?”

As the other two vampires helped their friend to his feet, de Sang jumped onto one of the seats near stage left, on the opposite side. “So! To whom do I have the pleasure?”

She waited a long moment for the reply, during which time the vampires fled. Not even another crossbow shot signaled that she had been acknowledged.

Then he stepped forward.

He had wiry black hair, tied in the back, a tanned complexion and a crooked smile. Green-tinted goggles with thick, black rims covered his eyes, and there was a brown-and-black crossbow in his dark-gloved hands. He wore a beige capelet, and a brown leather quiver was strapped to his back. Under the capelet was an olive-green dress shirt and dark brown slacks, and de Sang presumed there was padding underneath. And he was much taller than de Sang.

“They call me…” he said in an oily slick voice, “Èpouvante.”

De Sang blinked and stifled a laugh. “Wait, they literally named you ‘Dread?’ And… they thought that was clever?”

“Do not speak of the Iron Cross in that tone.” He grinned. “Oh, just wait until they hear that I found you. Wait until I bring you in. Can you imagine what they’ll do you when they get their hands on you?”

“That’s if you bring me in. Do you happen to know who I am?”

“Oh, of course I do…” He walked slowly down the aisle closest to her, keeping his bow trained on her gleefully. “Madame de Sang. What a fortuitous surprise this is.”

“Hah!” she laughed. “Finally, someone gets it. By the way, I notice you haven’t stopped aiming that weapon at me.”

“No. I’m not an idiot. But I do say, you’re awfully short.” De Sang frowned, but didn’t speak up. “You’re not exactly what I expected from your stories. I thought the dreaded mercy huntress was a veteran fighter. Did you actually decommission thirteen guild members?”

“I did. Five resigned because they didn’t want to fight me again. Eight were caught and arrested by police for multiple murder.”

“I’d hardly call this murder.” He gestured to the empty cage. “Those creatures were about to condemn those humans to a torturous, cursed existence. This is justice.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” De Sang narrowed her eyes. “This time, the damage was reversible. How many lives have you taken?”

“Countless. You?”

“None.”

“None?”

“If you’re lucky.” Her hand slowly found a ruffle in her dress, which was a pocket. Inside was something she was going to need, if the direction Dread was glancing was any indication.

“Bold words.” He adjusted his grip on the weapon. “But never any action. Why should I be scared of you?”

“You tell me. Why haven’t you shot me yet?” She smiled when she saw Dread falter slightly. “You even let those ‘creatures’ escape because of your focus on me. Apparently, I’m a bigger threat.”

Dread didn’t answer, and his expression hardened.

“Don’t worry. I’ve heard it before.” She hopped down from the chair and linked her hands behind her back. “You’re scared of me, but you don’t know why.” She took a few steps forward. “We should fix that.”

“One way or another.” With a shot of his crossbow, the electric light in the center of the room shattered, plunging the room into darkness.

He brought his hand to his face and adjusted a dial in his goggles, switching their function to night-vision.

Right as Dread activated them, he saw a punch coming for his face that he didn’t have time to dodge.

De Sang was also wearing night-vision goggles, having seen him adjusting his aim.

Her baton found its mark, and the crossbow was smashed to the ground. “Crossbows,” she said. “So many little moving parts. Very fragile.” She armed a knife. “I hope you brought a melee.”

“As a matter of fact…”

The swing of the baton was blocked by a pair of tomahawks from under the capelet.

“Dual-wield,” observed she. “Brave choice. Let’s see if you’re any good with that.”

As it turned out, he was. Very good. The axes were clearly under his complete control, neither one hanging loose at any time, and his grips on his handles were viselike. Every blow that de Sang threw with her baton was blocked by one weapon, while the other went for the kill. De Sang couldn’t match him. De Sang only had one weapon.

De Sang also had guile, which is sometimes just as good. And throughout their whole fight, she never once stopped smiling, because she always had something to smile about.

She allowed herself to be pushed back against the wall. At the blow that came on her right, which held the baton, the Angel waited until the last possible instant before dodging to the right, and it had the intended effect. The axe missed her by just a hair’s width, and his back was now facing her. The weapon implanted itself in the wall, leaving it stuck for just a second, and she seized her chance. Dread’s hand was in one place while the tomahawk couldn’t move, so she swung at his forearm with her baton. He was knocked away, and de Sang dropped her knife and pulled the axe out of the wall.

“Second weapon down,” she said. “Two-zero.” She clipped the axe to her waist, where her baton usually went. The weapon had a near-identical clip.

“Blind luck,” accused her opponent.

“Maybe it was. It still worked.” She went back into her fighting stance. “Warning you now, I’m coming for the other one. Once you lose the axe, you lose against me.”

“I’m aware of the stakes.”

“You hunters can’t fight without weapons. That’s basic logic.”

“Think you can take it from me?”

“I got two of them already, didn’t I? And I know how you hunters think. For example, you didn’t come here alone, did you?” She waited for a response, but Dread didn’t give one. “I know I’m right. They’re just outside, guarding the entrance. They probably ambushed the vampires, and that’s why you didn’t go after them.”

“So, what if I didn’t?”

“You wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because I didn’t come alone either.” She cocked her head curiously. “When’s the last time you saw your partner?”

Dread lunged at her, axe swinging, and it clashed with the baton. Now that they had one weapon apiece, they were much more evenly-matched, and de Sang had no difficulty in returning blows, finally going back onto the offensive.

“I recall now,” Dread mentioned as he parried. “The Angel’s consort. Your,” he sneered at her to accentuate his disgust, “bitch.”

“You know, that wasn’t funny the thirtieth time.” No matter what, she couldn’t let the man get a rise out of her. “You hunters need to stop thinking you’re so clever. I heard fools rarely differ.”

“That’s what it is, isn’t it?” He swung, and she ducked. “An animal. A beast.” She swung back, and he hopped to the side. “My men will make short work of it.”

“First of all,” she retorted, gritting her teeth, “she is not an it. And you don’t get to talk about her like that. Second,” she took a second to swat at his axe again before continuing, “do you think she’s survived this long because of me? She’s been squaring off against your kind for almost as long as I have, bless her.”

“My kind?” Dread laughed heartily. “That’s rich! My kind is your kind, too!”

For the first time in the fight, de Sang stopped smiling.

“No, it isn’t!” She attacked him again, more ferociously than before. “I fight monsters!”

Still, Dread matched her, blow-for-blow. “And so do I!”

“No!” she growled. It was very alien to her, growling, but this man was being particularly mean tonight. “You fight people. Those vampires are people. My partner is a person!” De Sang raised her baton like a club and brought it down as hard as she could, which the man blocked. “You, however, are a monster!”

She ran at him, and Dread grabbed her and flung her into the aisle.

It was all she could do not to lose her balance.

De Sang cursed her own lapse in judgement. She should have seen that coming. She needed to calm down and steady herself, or she was going to lose.

She felt the axe behind her right before it hit, and she rolled out of the way and back on her feet.

“The Cross trained me! Yes, it did!” de Sang shouted. While her earlier words had been fueled by anger, these were fueled by strength. “It trained me to hunt, and hurt, and it told me how to kill. But I won’t kill. You see that as weakness.” She advanced on him with a newfound vigor. “But life is precious. And you are all tantruming children in a china shop, smashing every life within reach if you don’t think it looks pretty. That’s why I stopped!” She hopped onto an aisle seat, never losing sight of him. “It trained me since preschool, just like every other kid they draft into their web of murder. And this is how I repay their trespasses!”

When the axe stopped the baton this time, the curved head hooked around the shaft of the baton, catching on the globe at the end when he pulled. De Sang pulled it away, and almost succeeded in pulling the axe out of his hand, but he persisted. The ensuing tug-o-war lasted five seconds.

The Angel smiled.

Her grip slipped, and she fell from the chair to the ground from the loss in balance.

Dread kept his balance. “Pitiful,” he spat, and he was on her in an instant. “Did you think I, a fully-fledged member of the most prestigious monster hunters’ guild in the world, would be so easily defeated by a child.”

“Maybe,” she panted. “But I bet you did too, for a minute there.” The axe blade pointed at her head, and Dread was standing on her chest, preventing her from reaching her knives. “Be honest, I had you on the ropes.”

“Cease your prattling. I’ll cut out your tongue.” He chuckled triumphantly. “Finally,” he celebrated, “the rogue huntress who’s been a thorn in our side for so long is defeated. The dreaded L’Ange de Sang, all mine…” He trailed off, looking his captive in the eyes, and his tone lowered as his suspicion grew. “Why are you smiling?”

She couldn’t help it. “When’s the last time you saw your partner?”

What?

Oh.

Dread turned around.

The sneering animal roared in his face. He swung at it with the weapon in his hand—

Which, because his attention hadn’t been on de Sang, was no longer in his hand.

“Three-one,” a voice chirped below him. “Game, set, match.”

A strong fist struck him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying through the air at the cage.

“That is a remarkable sturdy set piece,” the Angel quipped as she ran after him.

The new entrant to the fight gazed after them both. She didn’t have night-vision goggles, but she didn’t need them. Her eyes shined gold, even in the dark. She was just as tall as Dread, by the top of their heads, but her pointed ears made her an inch or two taller. Her padded top and leggings were midnight blue with swirls of gold and silver, and the top ended at her elbows. Her bare forearms exposed coarse, black fur, and ended in padded hands with hard, sharp claws. Her bushy tail poked out the back of her shirt. She had black combat boots and an indigo-and-silver cloth mask that was tied around her head. Her hair was long and tied in a ponytail, and her jaw was long and fanged.

A human-shaped animal: a werewolf. Bigger, faster, stronger, and more precise than a human, particularly with how much training she put in with her Angel.

She tossed the previously-discarded baton in her grip to her partner, standing over the disarmed Dread. De Sang smiled and pointed with it at her defeated opponent. “You’ll have to excuse her,” she chirped. “Eventide doesn’t like sharing.” She turned and lightly chastised her partner. “You sure took your time.”

“You didn’t need me,” the wolf replied in a gravelly voice.

“The guard out front?”

“Two guards, actually. Tough pair. Till some vamps stopped by. They took one, I got the other.”

She laughed. “I taught them everything they know.”

“What!?” The wolf brought a hand to her face. “Oh, you would.”

“I like seeing people do good.” De Sang pushed her playfully. “You love me for it.”

She shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

Dread tried to stand up while they were engaged, slowly propping himself on his elbows.

Eventide growled at him again, baring her long teeth. Dread’s arms gave out.

“Scary,” the onlooker surmised.

“Too much?”

“Well, you don’t scare me.”

“Really?” Eventide crossed her arms. “Practically everything scares you.”

This was met with a giggle. “Not you, though.” Without even looking, she tapped the man struggling for his quiver on the head. “Oi! Dread-man! Stay down.” She aimed her baton threateningly, as if daring him to try and stand up again.

Eventide looked at her, mildly confused. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to fight, Darling. What does it look like?”

After a pause, the werewolf reminded her, “Sweetie, you’re not right-handed.”

“Shush. I was making him feel better.” At Dread’s dismayed look, she relented. “Oh, well, I suppose you heard that anyway.” She tossed the baton to her left hand—her dominant hand. “Yes, alright, I was holding back, but you know what? You looked like someone who needed a confidence boost. So sure, I let you have me on the ropes, just this time. Positive mental attitude really goes a long way.”

“Again,” Eventide chuckled. “Only you.”

Dread looked fearfully between them. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Huntress turned back to monster. “Evie, you called the police when he arrived?”

“Yes, Angel.”

Angel once again faced sinner. “And I assume you called your guild buddies for backup?” Not even waiting for a nod, she crouched down and calmly explained. “Well, depending on who arrives first, either you’re going to jail, or you’ll get picked up and retrained, and you’ll have to fight me again, and I don’t know if I can keep handicapping myself.”

His eyes widened under his goggles.

“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a bet with my girl here about who will win. I’ll see you again, maybe. Or maybe not. Depends.” She shrugged. “Night-night.”

The hammer swung around and boxed him in the jaw hard, knocking him unconscious.

The street that the stage door entrance led to was bare at this time of night. Eventide’s form changed as they stepped outside, bones shifting and fur receding to become a teenaged girl with long, black hair and pale skin. Her mask, boots, and attire changed with her to better fit her shortened stature, and glowing gold eyes faded to a coppery orange-red.

De Sang had recollected her lost knives and replaced them in her bandolier, and she now was carrying a duffel bag.

“We good to go?” Eventide asked.

“How long were you standing there?” Angel replied. “Inside. How long did your fight actually take you?”

“It was shorter once your vampire friends stepped in.” She looked down sheepishly. “I came in right when you took his first axe.”

Angel pursed her lips. “So, you were basically watching me fight for a few minutes?”

“You didn’t need me.” She coughed, blushing. “And… you looked breathtaking.”

“And who do I have to thank for that?” The Angel twirled, making her dress and cape flutter. “I never could have asked for someone as talented as you.”

Evie smiled shyly. “How is it on your end?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see: stopped a conversion, gave some vamps something to be proud of, caught a few hunters.” She smiled as she heard the sudden whine of sirens nearby. “And look at that! The police got here first this time! And it’s only what, two a.m.? This was a great night!”

“And it’s Sunday now?” Evie bounded over to her, quietly embracing her. “This calls for something.”

“I was thinking we celebrate right now, actually.” She held up the bag. “How about we both slip into something a little more casual?”

“A quiet night in town?”

“A midnight stroll through Montmartre?” Angel suggested. “Walking through the moonlit gardens to Le Mur des Je T’aime? Or we dance down Place Jean-Marais, or promenade past the cabarets?”

“Chérie…” Tempting as it was, the werewolf had to play devil’s advocate. “Your dad still thinks you’re sleeping over. And my mom’s gonna be waiting with the boat, and Montmartre’s in the opposite direction. What if we get caught?”

“But it’s close.” Angel looked at her, her smile warm and her eyes pleading. “Come on, Julie. Let’s ignore the rules tonight. We’ve earned it.”

“Rose…” The werewolf acquiesced. “I can’t say no to that smile.”

“Wonderful!” The huntress gave her partner a quick kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get out of here, first, we don’t want police finding us.”

And so the girls fled, and their dark clothing blended into the night, concealing them from the sight of casual observers.

Rose’s hooded sweatshirt covered much of her costume, and her duffel bag held the bulk of her supplies. She looked normal enough that no one would look twice.

Juleka stepped out of the restrooms. She wasn’t bothered by the cold too much, but she still wore a zipped jacket and a pair of sweatpants over her padded outfit, and her hair was out of the. “Ready?”

“Thank you,” Rose said suddenly. Juleka looked at her quizzically, so Rose clarified. “I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you. For having my back tonight.”

“Oh.” Juleka took her hand and caressed it. “You didn’t need to thank me.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.” She grinned. “I already know.”

Assured, Rose pulled the goth girl closer and hugged her tightly.

The two stood like this for several minutes, letting themselves relax from the events of the night.

“I’m always going to protect you, Rose.”

“And I’ll always save you.”

They separated, and Rose offered her arm. “So, mon amour? The gardens first?”

(3315 words, so it’s still pretty long. I think it turned out okay, but I’d love to hear what you guys thought of it. So any nitpicks you have, tell me, please.)

Thanks again to @wearemiraculous / @seasonofthegeek for hosting this event.

#Rose Appreciation Week #Rose Lavillant #Juleka Couffaine #miraculous ladybug #Day 3: Favorite Ship #julerose #L'Ange de Sang #Eventide #Superhero AU

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lucywithlupus · 5 years

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Top 4 Bad & Good Things about my Body/ Top 4 Cosas Malas & Buenas de mi Cuerpo

Let's get real: arthritis sucks. It sucks incredibly hard. It sucks so bad not even all of the straws in this planet (serious issue) could suck as terribly as receiving the sad news that you suffer from a rheumatic condition. And because this condition is that terrible, it can lead your mind, heart, and soul to constantly attack your body with negative feelings, perceptions, and emotions. It is like your mind cannot stop concentrating about how not good your body is, how it fails to do the smallest things, or how it is not doing the things you ask it to do. The Mental Health Surveys published in 2008 their results on mental disorders among persons with arthritis. With a sample of 10 641 adults (wow!), with 78% response rate in an audience with 23% reporting at least one medical disorder in the past 12 months, they clearly showed that these disorders and mental illnesses go hand in hand. About 35% of people with a mental health disorder did seek treatment, while more than half did not even consider the idea. These were their conclusions:

"The high rate of not consulting among those with disability and comorbidity is an important public health problem. As Australia has a universal health insurance scheme, the barriers to effective care must be patient knowledge and physician competence." Aka there is a LOT of work to do. A lot. Another study by SAGE Journals said first what was said by The Mental Health Surveys in 2005, only focusing on rheumatoid arthritis (RA) About 150 participants, with varying duration of time since diagnosed, and the results were the following: 1. Perceiving illness as that something closest to you worsened depression and overall quality of life. 2. Remaining calm actually worked on those recently diagnosed:

"Optimism related to lower pain in early and intermediate RA. Social support related to lower fatigue in established RA. Indications for interventions targeted by disease duration are discussed." Sometimes, when the years go by and your good ol' pal arthritis has been sitting in your couch for way too long, it can really get heavy on your shoulders. So much to do, so many things to see and experience, only to be dragged down by your frenemy right there *aggressively stares at chair*. But it does not have to be this complicated. Your body and your mind are one and the same, they do not have to hate each other, or disconnect from one another in a way that actually will strip away all control from your hands. Your mind and body should not have fights every two seconds, they are both just trying their damn hardest to get by, and you know that. I know that. Your loved ones know that. So let's do it for them, for you and me, but most importantly, you. Without further ado, here we go! Top 4 Bad and Good Things about my Body with Arthritis.

Bad Thing 1: My body is weak

This used to be my mantra for six years of my life. I used to play this on repeat in my head like the hottest new summer mixtape. I already had enough with high school, trying to get unimaginable perfect grades and carrying the burden of being told every day that I was Einstein or something and I could achieve those grades if I wanted to.

The problem is that I wanted to, but know I know I never did. Does that make sense?

Let's be real. What kid likes to be sat down, all day, staring at colorful post its and trying to remember those English quotes for a massive surprise essay next week? No one! Not even me now, even though I am an adult. Kinda.

I just dreamed of getting to university, the days of the present shifting by while I had my eyes on the prize. At least I managed to get a spot on a university I love and enjoy with all my heart.

But even at arrival, I felt weak. Felt weak that I could not sit in my lecture hall comfortably for an hour. Felt weak because I had to take a nap in the afternoon after a three-hour lab. Felt weak because I could not finish that deadline because my knees hurt way too much to sit down and type away.

Feeling weak is normal, but we need to know that we cannot do everything. Nothing in life is free, but also it does not mean we do not take a break every now and then to make sure our body is taken care of. You cannot achieve what you want without rest. Your body will blow up! Poof!

Do not do that to yourself. Please.

Good Thing 1: My body is strong

Think of the strongest person you know. It's probably its Dwayne the Rock Johnson so let's stick with him.

Dwayne is a huge person. His arms are probably bigger than my ribcage, and his ribcage is probably bigger than my entire body. He trains a lot, eats more than that and is always ready to sing in the next Disney Movie, kick butt in the next action feature or yell in Moati dancing with a bunch of ten-year-old football players (pls do google this. It is hilarious.)

His life is pretty incredible, but that does not mean he did not have his up and downs. His childhood was pretty intense, as he was a major athlete and had to keep up with the legacy of wrestling legends established by his grandfather.

But this 101 on Dwayne's life isn't about him, it's about you! Look at you! You are the Rock too!

You managed to be told you have a condition that may probably never leave you and you successfully did not attempt to quit your life. You basically babysit your body all day, every day, trying to give it what it needs and avoid what it does not. You made and will make sacrifices to make sure you and those with you are ok, under any circumstance.

We get up every morning, in stinging pain, attempting to fling our bodies out of bed and waddle to the bathroom, take a shower, change clothes, brush our teeth, stuff our aching feet into some shoes and get out that door because we know we would go mad if we did not fight this every day. We know that if we did not go through that hassle every day and showed arthritis who's boss, our minds would collapse, we would lose the fight.

So keep fighting.

Bad Thing 2: My body is weird

Needless to say, a typical human body does not wreck itself everytime it goes up the stairs (remember kids: the first step is always the hardest). It is simply not the way it was designed to function, simple biology. Now, that does not mean your body is plain vanilla, but it also does not mean your body is an abomination like the ones in horror movies- or the ones who barely make it through horror movies.

My body is not weird. Period. I already spoke about how people are so legitimately shocked that I can properly function like the productive adult that I am, let alone those who just disapprove of me being me in public. Well, too bad Susan, I am here and so is my medical condition! I can't press the off button today thank you very much.

Your body can do so many amazing things. It can take care of itself and others. It can stump to the places you need to be in, or walk in good days, or run in the best days. It can do so many wonderful things, but you have to stop telling yourself that you are the odd one out. Anyone with a slight glimpse of intelligence will not care that you have to take your pills at this exact time, or that you have to sit down and rest for a while.

Keep those people close, but your enemies closer. No enemies, but confused strangers. Teach them about your condition, educate the public on what it is and how they can actually help us get by (aka this blog!).

Good Thing 2: My body is interesting

Maybe its because I am studying for a degree in science, but natural curiosity is never as bad as some people may think. Your body actually is fascinating to many doctors and field experts out there! The way it behaves and its mysterious ways are like an elegant puzzle, an enigma for them to observe and somehow complete.

Now, don't sell yourself to science, unless you really want to. Find money elsewhere.

I was always questioning why my body behaved this way until I realized the way I felt, when I felt it and how I felt it was pretty consistent, almost clock-like. The way our body operates is highly interesting, investigating on the subject won't blow your mind, but it may lead you to ask a question or two as to why your body is doing this to itself.

Maybe googling or reading a few articles some things will help you share your journey with others. Soon I will teach you the best ways to research for your own condition in a new post!

Just close your eyes for a moment, and focus on every single part of your body, one by one. Think about one good thing they did today: your feet took you to have breakfast, your hands held your favorite book, your eyes watched a beautiful movie today, your mouth helped you eat lunch, etc.

Any insignificant action that your body does is amazing and should be celebrated. Treat yourself for that!

Bad Thing 3: My body is ugly

Ugly duckling never felt so ugly. Now she did not only had to worry about her thick legs that could not fit inside those terribly small skinny jeans or that small bump in her stomach where, surprise surprise, but organs are also supposed to be in. Suddenly, what little body confidence she had taken a whole new spin: her body was now also not cute in other ways. Like abnormally inflated joints, finger stuck in a claw-like fashion, or the constant weight gain and loss I had during my experience with arthritis due to the lack of exercise.

Arthritis and other rheumatic conditions make yourself feel terrible about your appearance. Taking care of your looks sometimes is not a priority anymore. It can even be a challenge: you have to pick outfits, wear uncomfortable shoes, not have enough space in your purse or pockets (women pockets are the worst!period!) to carry your medicine around. Makeup can sometimes even be harsh on your skin when you get redness, or your hair may fall out because of the medication.

Let's not talk about shaving. Avoid for our own good.

But everyone deserves to feel cute, at least once in a while. Now I really don't care what they tell me: I can look a mess but feel beautiful, every single day. Because my body is my home, it takes care of me, and I take care of it. It deserves pampering and I will provide it every now and then.

Good Thing 3: My body is beautiful

Now, let's repeat the exercise we just did, now open your eyes. Look at yourself in the mirror, take in all that you are, every curve, every little detail, and imperfection. Say one nice thing about it all. Look at those eyes! Look at that hair! So stylish! Look at those shoulders! So strong! And so on.

No one's body is perfect, and trying it to make it magazine ready all day is not worth it. But please have the chance to try new things, look for new clothes (or used ones) that make you feel good, beautiful and confident all day!

So if you see a cute dress that you like and you can afford it, go for it! You will slay whatever place you will wear it to. Did you saw a nice shirt on sale? Buy it! You will look so cool, so fly.

Hint: there will also be a new post coming about tips and tricks on how to buy and wear clothes when you have arthritis. Struggling with that zipper every morning is a major problem! Stop!

Bad Thing 4: My body will never heal

As already discussed, no one really knows why arthritis is a thing, and thus, no one knows how it leaves and why. Maybe it has to do with stress. Perhaps it has something to do with environmental conditions or lifestyle. Who knows.

But that does not mean you lose hope that easily. Sure, some of us have had our condition for five, ten, even thirty years, and it still there. But arthritis' place in our bodies is not permanent, I swear on Yuval Harari (aka one of my favorite authors of all time).

You can bet all you want that when you least expect it, this uninvited acquaintance will be poofed off, and free you shall be at last. Just make sure you are working for it: be kind to yourself, take your meds, eat healthy (at least try), do some exercise, educate yourself and others, help out those in need, etc.

Good Thing 4: My body will get better

It will, and it is. Yas.

I sometimes I feel challenged to balance my priorities and make sure I am not overworking myself when trying to get better. The irony of it all: we sometimes work too hard in trying to get better sometimes. We read a lot, research to no end. We try so many different diets, hoping one will be the one to cure us at last, we go to so many different treatments, yoga sessions, detox classes, and God knows what more.

Being excited about staying healthy is important, a good solid start. But do not go crazy trying to find a cure that may not even be accessible to you at stores or detox juices. Instead, trust your body. It knows what it's doing, most of the time. It will heal itself in the only way it knows how to: eating, sleeping, resting, drinking water, and asking for stuff. Lots of stuff. Another hint: new post on how to make a survival kit soon!

Getting better can sometimes feel like a rollercoaster: sometimes we are up, sometimes we fall head first 20 feet up in the air towards the solid ground. Gravity is harsh, man.

But you know what I a trying to say. Things will not always be easy, and sometimes you will not be able to control everything or know what to do. That's why you have to ask for help. From your parents, your caretakes, your doctors and your friends. Build a support circle around you so you always know someone always has your back, sometimes literally.

Arthritis is no piece of cake, and other rheumatic disorders are not either. They are tasks for us to fulfill, but we are not bad. We are not sick. We are not ugly. And we definitely are not going to sit here and take it. Because we have enough things to worry about, and we could not care less about what you or others have to say about our progress. We know our worth, we appreciate ourselves and celebrate our bodies in the best way we can: by treating it right, with respect, dignity, love, and courage.

Love you so you can love. See you around!

Also, I would love to share with your guys this lovely group of families in Kampala with children with disabilities at Ndagire Ritah @ritandagire76 on Instagram. Please copy and paste their username and say hi! Drop a donation if you can! It's for a great cause!

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Seamos sinceros: la artritis apesta. Increíblemente. Es tan mala que ni siquiera todas las cañitas del mundo (problema bastante serio) no podrían igualarse a recibir la triste noticia de que tu sufres de artritis reumatoide.

Y por que esta condición es tan horrible, puede convencer a tu mente, corazón y espíritu de atacar a tu cuerpo con pensamientos negativos, percepciones falsas y emociones dañinas. Es como si tu mente no puede dejar de concentrarse en todo lo malo que tu cuerpo es, todas las fallas que comete, incluso en las quehaceres más pequeños, o cómo no está logrando las cosas que tu le pides que haga.The Mental Health Surveys publicó en el 2008 sus resultados en la relación que existe entre las enfermedades mentales y la artritis. Con 10 641 sujetos adultos puestos a prueba (wow!) y una tasa de respuesta del 78%, el estudio involucró casi 2,500 personas discapacitadas. Los resultados demostraron que los desórdenes reumatológicos y las enfermedades mentales van de mano en mano. Casi 35% de las personas que padecían de una enfermedad mental buscaron tratamientos, mientras que más de la mitas ni siquiera consideró la idea de hacerlo.

Y estas fueron sus conclusiones:

" El alto índice de falta de tratamiento mental en aquellos que sufren de discapacidad y comorbilidad es un problema de salud pública. Ya que Australia tiene un esquema universal de seguros médicos, las barreras que previenen cuidado efectivo deben ser el conocimiento del paciente acerca de posibles tratamientos y la competencia del médico tratante."

En otras palabras, hay mucho que hacer. MUCHO. Demasiado.

Otro estudio por SAGE journals anticipó en 2005 lo dicho por The Mental Health Surveys, solo enfocándose en la artritis reumatoide (RA). Casi 150 participantes, quienes padecían de artritis por variadas duraciones de tiempo. Los resultados fueron los siguientes.

Percibir la enfermedad como lo más cercano a tu ser puede empeorar la depresión y calidad de vida.

Conservar la calma tuvo, en efecto, un resultado positivo en aquellos que acababan de ser diagnosticados.

"El optimismo mejoró el dolor secundario en artritis reumatoide de duración temprana y intermedia. Indicaciones de intervenciones dirigidas a la duración de la enfermedad fueron discutidas."

A veces, cuando los años pasan y tu vieja amiga artritis estuvo sentada en tu sillón por mucho tiempo, en serio puede convertirse en una carga pesada. Tanto que hacer, tantas cosas que ver y experimentar, solo para ser empujada por tu amiga-enemiga, que siempre está justo ahí *miro mi silla*

Pero no tiene que ser tan complicado. Tu cuerpo y tu mente son tal para cual, fulano y mengano no tienen que odiarse, o desconectarse de una manera que quitaría todo el control de tus manos. Tu mente y cuerpo no deberían pelear cada dos segundos, solo están tratando de conseguir el mismo objetivo: trabajar super duro para sobrevivir, y eso ya lo sabías. Yo lo sabía. Tus seres queridos también lo sabían.Así que hagámoslo por ellos, por tu y yo. Pero sobre todo, hazlo por ti.Ahora sin más preámbulos, aquí vamos! Top 4 Cosas Malas y Buenas de Mi Cuerpo. Cosa Mala 1: Mi cuerpo es débil

Este solía ser mi mantra por seis años de mi vida. Solía repetir esto en mi cabeza como esas canciones pop que salen en verano. Ya tenía suficientes líos con la secundaria, tratando de sacar notas inimaginables y perfectas y cargar la responsabilidad de ser vista como Einstein o algo por el estilo. Todo el mundo me decía que yo podía sacar la nota que quisiera sin esfuerzo alguno.

El problema es que yo sí mi esforzaba, pero nunca quise hacerlo. Se entiende?

Seamos honestos con nosotros mismos. A qué niño le gusta estar sentado todo el dia, mirando post its de colores con datos para el siguiente ensayo sorpresa de Inglés la próxima semana? Ninguno! Ni siquiera yo ahora quiero hacer eso, incluso si soy una adulta. Casi.

Yo solo soñaba con entrar a la universidad, los días del presente un abrir y cerrar de ojos mientras yo tenía la mirada fija en la línea de llegada. Al menos logre un lugar en una universidad que yo a mi y disfruto con todo mi corazón.

Pero incluso al llegar, me sentía débil. Débil porque no podía sentarme en mi salón de audiencias cómodamente por más de una hora. Débil porque debía tomar una siesta en la tarde después de un laboratorio de tres horas. Débil porque no podía entregar el trabajo por que mis rodillas me dolían demasiado para sentarme en mi escritorio y prender mi computadora. No te hagas eso a ti mismo. Por favor.

Cosa Buena 1: Mi cuerpo es fuerte

Piensa en la persona más fuerte que conoces. Probablemente es Dwayne the Rock Johnson así que utilicemoslo de ejemplo.

Dwayne es una persona enorme. Sus brazos son probablemente más grandes que mi pecho, y su pecho es probablemente más grande que mi cuerpo. El entrena un montón, come más que eso y siempre está listo para cantar en la siguiente película de Disney, pegarle a alguien en el siguiente blockbuster de acción o gritar en un baile Haka junto a grupo de niñas de diez años en un partido de football (por favor busquen eso. Es divertidisimo.)

Su vida es muy increíble, pero eso no significa que no tenga sus altibajos. Su infancia fue bastante intensa, pues esa un atleta profesional desde muy chico y siempre trató de mantener el legado de leyendas boxeadoras establecido por su abuelo.

Pero este 101 en la vida de Dwayne no se trata de él. Se trata de ti! Mírate! Tú también eres como La Roca!Tu lograste soportar que te dijeran que tienes una condición que quizá nunca te abandone y victoriosamente no tratarse de terminar tu vida. Tu básicamente de cuidas cual bebé todo el dia, todos los días, esforzándote para darle a tu cuerpo lo que necesita y evitar lo que no necesita. Tu haces y harás los sacrificios necesarios para asegurarte que tu y los que amas están seguros, bajo cualquier circunstancia.

Nos levantamos cada mañana, en dolor agudo, tratando de aventar nuestros cuerpos fuera de la cama y cojear hasta el baño, ducharse, cambiarse de ropa, lavarse los dientes, encajar nuestros pies dolidos en un par de zapatillas y salir por esa puerta por que sabemos que perderíamos la cabeza si no luchamos esta condición todos los días. Sabemos claramente que si no nos tomáramos la molestia de hacer todo eso en la mañana y no le mostráramos a la artritis quien manda, nuestras mentes colapsaría y perderíamos la batalla.Así que sigue luchando.

Cosa Mala 2: Mi cuerpo es raro

No hace falta decir que el típico cuerpo humano usualmente no se destruye a sí mismo cada vez que tratas de subir las escaleras (recuerden amigos: el primer paso siempre es el más difícil). Tu cuerpo simplemente no está diseñado para funcionar de esa manera, biología básica. Ahora, eso no significa que tu cuerpo sea tan básico como el pan blanco, pero tampoco significa que tu cuerpo es una abominación como las que salen en las películas de horror- o los que a las re justas sobreviven la película.

Mi cuerpo no es raro. Punto. Ya hablé de las personas que siempre se encuentran tan sorprendidas que yo puedo funcionar como la mujer productiva que soy, y también de aquellos que me miran con desaprobación en público. Bueno, que pena Susan, estoy aquí y también lo está mi condición médica! No pude apretar el botón de apagado hoy, muchas gracias.

Tu cuerpo puede hacer tantas cosas maravillosas. Puede cuidarse y a otros. Puede lentamente dirigirse a los lugares en los que tu debes estar, o caminar hacia ellos en los días buenos, o correr incluso en los días súper buenos. Puede hacer tantas cosas maravillosas, pero tienes que dejar de nombrarte a ti mismo la oveja negra. Cualquiera con poco de inteligencia no le importará que tienes que tomar tus pastillas a esta hora exacta, o que tienes que sentarse un rato de descansar.

Ten a tus amigos cerca, pero a tu enemigos más cerca. No enemigos, pero extraños confundidos. Enséñales a cerca de tu condición, educa al público de qué es la artritis y cómo nos pueden ayudar en el dia a dia (o sea, este blog!).

Cosa Buena 2: Mi cuerpo es interesante

Quizá es porque estoy estudiando para un bachiller de ciencia, pero la curiosidad nunca es tan mala como algunos creen. Tu cuerpo es en realidad fascinante para varios doctores y expertos de la medicina! La manera en que se comporta y sus muchos misterios son como un elegante rompecabezas, un enigma para que ellos observen y resuelvan.

Ahora, no te vendas a la ciencia, a menos que en serio lo desees. Encuentra dinero en otro sitio.Siempre me cuestionaba por que mi cuerpo se comportaba de este modo hasta que me di cuenta que lo que sentía, cómo lo sentía y cuando tenía constancia, casi de reloj. La manera en que tu cuerpo se opera a sí mismo es altamente interesante, investigar en el asunto no reventara su cerebro, pero te puede llevar a preguntarte algo o más acerca de tu cuerpo y de porqué hace lo que hace.

Quizá googlear o leer unos cuantos artículos de esto te ayudará en tu viaje con los demás. Pronto les enseñaré las mejores técnicas para investigar tu condición en un nuevo post!

Solo cierra tus ojos por un momentos y enfócate en cada parte de tu cuerpo, una por una. Piensa en algo bueno que todos ellos hicieron hoy: tus pies de llevaron a tomar desayuno en la mañana, tu manos sostuvieron tu libro favorito, tus ojos miraron una buena película, tu boca te ayudo a comer tu almuerzo, etc.Cada acción que parezca insignificante es increíble y debería celebrarse. Quiérete por eso!

Cosa Mala 3: Mi cuerpo es feo

El patito feo nunca se sintió tan feo. Ahora no solo tenía que lidiar con sus piernas gruesas que no entraban en esos horribles pantalones entallados, o el pequeño bulto que sobresale de su estómago donde, sorpresa, hay órganos importantes ahí! De repente, su baja confianza en sí misma también tomó un giro de 360 grados, pues regreso al mismo lugar, solo que en una perspectiva distinta. Su cuerpo ahora tenía otras razones por las cuales no era lindo, como las articulaciones anormalmente inflamadas, los dedos atorados como garras, o la constante sube y baja de peso que pasó por la falta de ejercicio.

La artritis y otras condiciones reumáticas a veces te hacen sentir terrible a cerca de tu apariencia. Cuidarla a veces ya no es una prioridad, o incluso puede ser desafiante. Tienes que elegir atuendos, usar zapatos incómodos, o no tener suficiente espacio en tu bolso o bolsillos (lo dire: los bolsillos de mujer son horribles!) para cargar tu medicina alrededor. El maquillaje también puede ser dañino para tu piel enrojecida por la inflamación, o tu cabello se podría caer por la medicina que tomes.

Y no hablemos de la rasuradora. Evitemoslo por nuestro propio bien.

Pero todos merecemos sentirnos lindos, al menos de vez en cuando. Ahora no me importa que me digan: puedo parecer un desastre pero de todas maneras me sentiré hermosa, todos los días. Porque mi cuerpo es mi casa, me cuida y yo lo cuido. Merece consentimientos y los proveeré de vez en cuando.

Cosa Buena 3: Mi cuerpo es hermoso

Ahora repitamos el ejercicio que acabamos de hacer, ahora abre tus ojos. Mirate al espejo, observa todo lo que eres, cada curva y cada detalle y imperfección. Di una cosa buena acerca de cada cosa. Mira esos ojos! Mira este peinado! Qué estilo! Mira esos hombros! Que fuerte! Y sigue asi.

El cuerpo de nadie es perfecto, y tratar de lucir listo para la portada de una revista todos los días no vale la pena. Pero por favor ten la oportunidad de probar cosas nuevas (o usadas) que te hagan sentir bien, lindo y con confianza todo el dia!

Así que si ves un vestido lindo que te gusta y lo puedes pagar, hazlo! Serás despampanante a donde vayas. Viste una camisa que te gusta y está a la venta? Consíguela! Te verás genial, tan cool.Pista: habrá un nuevo post acerca de tips de cómo encontrar y usar ropa adecuada para personas con artritis. Luchando con ese cierre cada mañana es un problema mayor! Detente!

Cosa Mala 4: Mi cuerpo no se va a curar

Como ya lo discute, nadie sabe por qué la artritis existe, y debido a eso, nadie sabe cómo se va y porqué. Quizá tenga que ver con el estrés. Quizá tenga algo que ver con las condiciones medioambientales o el estilo de vida. Quien sabe.

Pero eso no significa que debes perder la esperanza tan fácilmente. Si, algunos de nosotros han tenido esta condición por cinco, diez, quizá hasta treinta años, y sigue ahí. Pero el lugar de la artritis en nuestros cuerpos no es permanente, lo juro por Yuval Harari (uno de mis autores favoritos de todos los tiempos).

Puedes apostar todo lo que quieras que cuando menos te des cuenta, esta conocida sin invitación se desvanecerá, y tu serás libre al fin. Solo asegúrate de hacer tu trabajo y ser amable contigo mismo, tomar tus medicinas, comer saludablemente (al menos trata), haz algo de ejercicio, educate y a otros, ayuda a los que lo necesitan, etc.

Cosa Buena 4: Mi cuerpo se va a mejorar

Lo hará y lo está haciendo. Yas.

Yo a veces me siento abrumada por el balance que debo poner en mis prioridades y asegurarse de no sobre trabajar cuando me estoy mejorando de una crisis. La ironía: a veces trabajamos demasiado en mejorarnos. Leemos demasiado, investigando sin fin. Tratamos tantas dietas diferentes y jugos detox, esperando que uno sea la llave maestra de la artritis. Vamos a tantas cursos de yoga, tratamientos naturistas y muchas otras cosas más.

Estar emocionado de estar saludable es importante, es un buen comienzo. Pero no te aloques tratando de encontrar una cura que quizá ni siquiera puedas comprar o poner en un jugo detox. En vez de eso, confía en tu cuerpo. Sabe lo que hace, la mayoría del tiempo. Se sanará a sí mismo de la única manera que sabe cómo: comiendo, durmiendo, tomando agua, descansando y pidiendo cosas. Muchas cosas. Ya viene el siguiente post de cómo alistar un kit anti-artritis.

Mejorarse a veces parece una montaña rusa: a veces subimos, a veces caemos en picada de 20 metros en el cielo hacia el duro suelo. La gravedad es dura.Pero sabes lo que trato de decir. Las cosas a veces no son fáciles, y a veces no podemos controlar todo o saber qué hacer en ciertas situaciones. Por eso debes pedir ayudar. De tus padres o cuidadores, de tu doctor y de tus amigos. Construye un círculo protector alrededor tuyo para que siempre tengas a alguien sosteniendo tu espalda- a veces literalmente.

La artritis no es una caminata en el parque, pero otras condiciones reumáticas tampoco lo son. Son trabajos de tiempo completo que debemos realizar, pero no somos malos. No estamos enfermos. No somos débiles, feos, raros. Y definitivamente no vamos a sentarnos y escucharte decirnos eso. Porque tenemos cosas más importantes que hacer, y no nos podría importar menos lo que otros tengan que decir al respecto, o que digan de nuestro progreso. Sabemos lo que valemos y celebramos nuestros cuerpos en la mejor manera posible: tratándolo bien, con respeto, dignidad, amor y coraje.

Ama para que puedas amar. Nos vemos!

También me encantaría compartir con ustedes este grupo de familias en Kampala con niños con discapacidades en Ndagire Ritah @ritandagire76 en Instagram. Por favor copien y peguen su username y digan hola! Donen si pueden! Es por una buena causa!

#lupus #lupuswarrior #systemic lupus erythematosus #inflammatory arthritis #juvenile idiopathic arthritis #fibromyalgia #fibrowarrior #spoonie #rheumatism #rheumatic #autoinmune #invisibledisabilities #chronic pain #chronically ill #chrons

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kingofthewhatpod · 6 years

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Fanfic Friday #4

Okay, it's time for my fourth attempt to wow people with my spin on One Piece. Welcome to #FanficFriday. Because the podcast is currently mid arc, it makes sense not to consider doing a re-write of the canon arc to try and improve, so you get a 100% new story. Let us begin...

This adventure will be called "The island of old men," and if that doesn't make you raise an eyebrow, I'm not quite doing my job.

The scene: Luffy and crew have just escaped loguetown, heading towards reverse mountain... and they see an island, not on Nami's map. And let me tell you, this island has a giant golden tower rising from the center. It can be seen from quite a distance away, and it has like a crown on it. Nami, obviously, is worried about why it's not on the map Usopp fears it's a "ghost island" Sanji would say something like "What even is a ghost island?" Totally nonplussed, watching the island with a casual eye. Luffy is like "Woa-ho What is that??? Can we go? Can we? Can we?" Nami objects, but did we think that would work? No. Luffy is excited, and so is Zoro by proxy Since Luffy is the captain, they go anyways regardless of objections.

Before they reach the tower, they come across a single, largish wooden building, the four titular old men outside Guy number one: A huge guy. Sometimes i'm creative with names, some times not, he'll just be "Badger" and when I say huge, I mean he probably did like seven hundred thousand crunches a day in his youth. Guy number two: He's wearing a jacket with pockets of various sizes, each packed with unseen items. He can be "Sparrow." Guy number three: sunglasses, a vest with a cape, he's the most mobile/active of these old men, conveys his moods with movement. Name: "Rabbit"

Final guy: Taking a nap. Bigger than Sparrow and Rabbit, but not as big as Badger. Scars on his arms, and a loooooong beard because this is One Piece. The other old guys introduce him as like Haro. Of course most, if not all, of the Straw Hat's think its weird he's not named after an animal like the other three.

To set the scene Sparrow and Badger are playing a card game, Rabbit is watching and commentating- loudly (which is clearly annoying Badger), and as I said Haro is taking a nap. Now, as Luffy and them approach, they ask about the tower they saw while sailing. The old guys kind of glance at them, go back to what they're doing, and explain "Young whelps like you shouldn't even ask about the King's Tower, let alone approach it"

Usopp would be the most startled their reaction. Zoro or Sanji (why not both?) would be surprised, but Luffy would be doing that thing where he's unusually quiet and watching the scene, eyes on Haro. Usopp would try to explain “We were just asking what it was, and the island wasn't on the map-”

"The golden spire was built to honor the strong!" Rabbit would declare (again, loudly. Assume everything he does is loud). "And young'uns like you just can't climb it!"

"Best that you don't even try," Badger would grumble. "Go home and have a glass of milk"

Usopp would be about to argue about "How do you know about us", when Zoro would cut him off with a "Wait," eyeing up Badger. "Words are useless against people like this."

Sanji would be looking at the horizon, "All we have to do is climb it then, right?"

"We won't let you!" Rabbit says, stamping his foot on the ground. "Have you no respect for your elders? We forbid it!"

"So what then?" Zoro asks.

"Three days.” Sparrow would say without looking up from the game. Maybe with their free hand he holds up three fingers. If you can survive three days on the island, we'll let you try the climb"

Luffy calmly walks over to the porch area on which Haro sleeps and sits down. "Fine," is all he says. "But we will climb that tower and see what's at the top." He says this very seriously. Nami sighs and Zoro is just like, "aye captain."

Jump cut to the next morning, Zoro is with Badger in the woods. Badger gestures at the trees around them, and asks Zoro to cut down ten trees by the end of the trial period with his sword. Zoro is like "pfft, yeah, whatever." and schwing schwing schwing! with his blades. His cocky grin fades as he looks back and sees only small scratches on these thick trees. Now Badger is grinning. "The hell kind of trees are these?" Zoro asks.

"Only the sturdiest wood for our cabin, sprout," he'd mock. "Or is it too hard for you?" to Zoro's ire, of course

Sanji is with Rabbit, who is like "Let's gather some jewel mushrooms from the forest, try to keep up!" And here we see why he's called Rabbit. He's very, very fast, which would surprise Sanji doubly so due to his age. Sanji has to run after him shouting "wait!"

Sanji ends up having to scavenge on his own, and he gets a bit lost in the forest. He's certain he can do it, but then... that night he only has maybe 2 in his basket and Rabbit has three full-to-bursting baskets! Sanji is just.... shocked.

Nami and Usopp both get paired with Sparrow. They're down in the basement which has both a room full with complex, twisting pipes in an impossible tangle, and a library. He starts pulling books off the library shelf and Nami has to race to keep up, trying to catch them all. Nami, it seems, will help him decipher some weird encoded message, using historical documents to try and understand the code. Usopp has to help fix the plumbing. Not only are the pipes all twisty, not only are the instructions convoluted, but these pipes are heavy. It shows him detach a nut from around a pipe and he almost drops it on his foot because it’s unexpectedly heavy.

Luffy, who hasn't said a word yet, is sitting beside Haro, just chilling. Haro hasn't woken up yet, and Luffy isn't going to be tested, apparently. Which just makes me chuckle. Am I allowed to admit that about my own dumb story? Whatever.

Back to Zoro. It's night time. He's made a little bit more progress, but he is on his back, panting heavily. Badger is also sitting, grinning. "Still going to win?" he teases.

"Of course," Zoro says, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. No reaction from Badger. "My captain said we would climb the tower," Zoro continues. "So it's not a matter of whether I can. I simply must. But first... a nap."

Badger would kind of chuckle and head back to the mansion as Zoro closes his eyes.

Naturally, we'd also get some shots of Usopp, Nami, and Sanji hard at work that night. Nami is burning the midnight oil, a huge pile of books next to her. Usopp is studying this crazy, complex room, and Sanji is contemplating these strange mushrooms in the kitchen. I guess I didn't mention, but these mushrooms would obviously be hard to find but they'd also looks super weird close up. They'd almost glitter like jewels, but not bright enough to be seen from a distance. Because what is One Piece without some mystery/magic/unworldly elements?

Next morning, each member (minus Luffy) is hard at work. Zoro has made some progress in the night and is already wielding all three swords by the time Badger finds him

"What if the others can't do it?" Badger would ask.

"They will," Zoro would say simply.

Nami would be talking to Sparrow. "They're all idiots," she'd explain while reading these books. "Especially my captain. If I can't learn to help them out, they'll surely fail."

Usopp would have built some doodad out of spare pieces he had found, something that could slide along the pipes, or maybe marked them in some way with paint. Point is, he's starting to learn this room's layout. Sparrow is rubbing his chin as he looks on, but saying nothing

Sanji has figured out about a weird creature that eats these jewel mushrooms from studying the roots. So this time when Rabbit leaves him in the dust, he looks for one of these boars (but like, big boars with purple fur or something) and lets it lead him to the treasure trove. Of course he's started learning how to cook with them, too. But that’s not relevant to his test.

The third day, Everyone convenes back in the "plaza." The 3 old guys are unchanged. Zoro is exhausted, Nami shows sign of ink all over, Usopp has oil stains, and Sanji's usually immaculate clothes are disheveled. To sell the victory, Sanji also has a plate cooked with these mushrooms, Nami holds a parchment with the decoded message, Zoro is pulling a sled with this special wood, and Usopp stands before a fountain which has begun working once more!

There's a pause... Rabbit, Sparrow, and Badger, in unison, all look to Haro, giving a thumbs up and say "Well, I guess they did alright."

Haro finally awakes (let’s be real though, we all know he wasn’t actually asleep), rising and brushing off his knees. "Let's go kid," is all he says. He leaves, Luffy follows. (AN: at this point I realized the thread was getting really, really long on Twitter. Yes, I have more room here on Tumblr to fill out the details, but I once again am brushng up agaisnt my self-imposed deadline. For now, I’ll leave it largely unedited, hope you can forgive me, and try to do better next week).

Next up: Cave. Big bear monster, like this big beast, two or three stories tall. Haro beats it up easily, maybe even in one punch or maybe he jumps up and grabs its head and flips it on its back. He is very, very strong. Luffy would acknowledge that with a classic "You're strong old man"

"What about you?" Haro asks, looking to Luffy. Luffy puts on his straw hat with a grin. "Just watch me."

A second monster comes out of the cavern. Luffy is not at this old guy's level. Not a victory in a single punch, but he keeps standing every time he's knocked down. He wears it down & wins.

Luffy and Haro come back to the manor. The boss old man gives a nod and the Straw Hats continue inward in the island. Haro sits back down and, only after they've left does he smile a big, goofy smile. Maybe, like, 85% as goofy as Luffy. "I like him," he says.

Now, it turns out there isn't much to this tower. Long climb up, but no traps or other gatekeepers. They get to the top, and there’s a spectacular view of the island and ocean beyond. They’re all looking and admiring when their captain comes up with his idea. Luffy takes in a super deep breath, everyone else is grinning as they realize what he’s going to do, and he just yells. "I'M GUNNA BE.... THE KING OF THE PIRATES!!!" Scaring some birds in the nearby forest to show how loud he shouted.

flash back to the old men. Sparrow is rubbing his chin. "King, eh?"

"He just might do it," Haro acknowledges. "He reminds me of that other young'un who came through all those years ago."

"Roger was a good man," Badger agrees.

"Plus," Haro says, as the screen fades to black. "That kid's a 'D'" Haro adds. "Can't wait to see what he gets up to."

To be Continued flashes on the screen, on to the next adventure.

This concludes the fourth #FanficFriday. I really need to find a way to compress these. It'll only get harder as we get more characters to play with. I'm still working on this. But hey, maybe I can just post the original on Tumblr and link to it on twitter, or put it on some third site and link to it on both these accounts. But hey, be sure to let us know what you think. If you leave an insightful comment or have your own tweaks to make (be it an addition or changing something I started in my own what-if scenario), maybe I'll give you a shout out on the pod!

#KotWN #Fanfic Friday #chapter 4 #Haha! I submitted this on time for once!#Sorry for lack of creative images. It's late #One Piece

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frederator-studios · 6 years

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Meet D.R. Beitzel, Creator of “The Bagheads”

DR Beitzel is a cartoonist, creative producer, and Pennsylvania fellow living a NYC dream. His day job is playing video games in a Times Square skyscraper; his evenings are occupied writing funnies and drawing comics for the likes of MAD Magazine, McSweeneys, and his own Phatypus Comics. And like several of his idols before him - Matt Groening, anyone? - he’s now making the petite leap from comics to cartoons. His GO! Cartoon “The Bagheads” is a historically accurate depiction of trash take-out travails with former roommates and his competitive clashes with his older brother. He maintains that the Goat (”Goooat”) is its sole foray into the cartoonish make-believe. He studied politics, so you know that he has 0 capacity to - dare I even suggest it!? - fib.

Sooo, where’d you study animation?

I didn’t! I first went to a community college in central Pennsylvania. It was full of a bunch of cool people - unfortunately not Donald Glover or Alison Brie, but fortunately also not Chevy Chase. Then I went to University of Pittsburgh and studied communications and political science.

Poli- what now?

Yeah... it was the Obama era. I thought “It’s all uphill from here! We’re just riding this political train into the Promised Land!” Reality hit hard. Back then, Jon Favreau was writing Obama’s ‘Yes We Can’ speeches, and I was all riled up. I wanted to be a speechwriter.

At one point a local city councilman asked me to write some remarks for him to use on Martin Luther King Day. I was idealistic and had a head full of steam, so I wrote this fiery, passionate stemwinder that drew on self-sacrifice and righteousness. I even referenced "Letter from Birmingham Jail”. The thing was, it was for a pancake breakfast at a rural Pennsylvania fire hall. So, I'm pretty sure he went out and said something like, "Thanks for coming. Go Eagles”. I was young and naive, and didn't realize that every speech didn't have to be "Ask not what your country can do for you ..."

When did you decide to NOT work in politics?

When I met a real life politician. (I laugh) No, really! He was a hometown representative - I’m from the Pennsylvania boonies. And he was a Republican, which was fine; I was just looking for a foot in the door. But when he found out I wasn’t, he asked me if I was a double agent. Like he actually suspected me of being in cahoots with the Dems to get dirt on him! So weird. And then finally, it came down to either an unpaid internship with a politician or a paid gig without a politician, so I chose to get paid.

Chasing that dollar. What was the paid gig?

I started out as a freelance editor for fashion and fitness blogs. The biggest perk - and irony - was that I was working in sweatpants from my couch. I got jobs at some TV and radio stations. At the end of college, I did do one unpaid internship, which was the best free work I ever did. It was at WQED, the PBS affiliate in Pittsburgh where Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was filmed back in the day. They still had a bunch of the sets just hanging around the hallways - and I even got to meet Mr. McFeely, who was exactly as nice as you’d hope. Eventually, I decided to leave Pennsylvania and move to New York, probably for the cheap rent. And I’ve been here ever since, working with mobile games. I even got to visit the old MAD Magazine office when I did a comic with them. It was covered in original art from some of the all-time greats.

What kinda stuff have you done for MAD Mag and others?

For MAD, I did a comic parody called “Captain Red America”. He’s like Captain America but only represents conservative states, so a lot of his enemies are things he doesn’t actually believe in. So, when he fights the super villain Climate Change, Cap can’t fight back because he doesn’t believe in climate change, so it just beats him up. I also did some writing for McSweeneys. They have some of the funniest stuff published anywhere, and I always wanted to write for them. I love doing comics, too, because if I have an idea, I can just put it out there—there aren’t really stakeholders involved. Recently, I just finished a Valentines comic for Bushwick Daily, a local Brooklyn blog, about the types of people you meet on Tinder.

How was transplanting to NYC - did you always want to move there?

Ehhh… I’m one of those unwilling New Yorkers who loves to hate it. The city has its upsides; it’s the best comedy scene. When I first arrived I joined UCB, which I think is mandatory when you move to New York - they just issue you a membership with your MetroCard. I always brag that I got to see Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson perform their Broad City stage show before it became a TV show. I love that community, and part of me wishes I’d have stuck with it longer, but I was getting pulled in a bunch of different directions, including a new job.

Oh yeah? Where at?

At Nickelodeon! I got the opportunity very randomly, about a month after I arrived. My (soon-to-be) boss called two people in for interviews, and I guess all that theatrical training from UCB paid off, because I was able to fake being a functional person long enough for her to hire me. It’s a really fun place to work: talented artists, toys everywhere, and sometimes wide-eyed kids are touring the office or testing games for us and you remember what we’re all doing there. The downside is that we’re in Times Square, so when I venture into the street I’m guaranteed to get a face-full of armpit. But playing video games is part of my job - I produce apps and games related to Nick shows.

That is the Dream. What’s your favorite game you’ve worked on?

Probably TMNT: Legends. We had a tremendous team of real fans, and the game looks great. Plus, I got to go visit Montreal where the team is based. I highly recommend that everyone spend years developing a game with a blockbuster studio, so you can visit, too.

Did you choose the cartoon life, or did the cartoon life choose you?

Wow, I really need to get “Cartoon Life” tattooed across my stomach. It was mutual selection. As a kid, I’d go to my grandma’s house and draw through all the paper she had. I looked up to Sergio Aragones of MAD. I was always drawing in the margins of the handouts at church - that’s the only way I’d sit still. But in high school, I stopped drawing for a bit - I guess I was partying too much, or maybe I just lost all my pencils in one of my oversized neon Tommy Hilfiger jackets. Then, I got back into it in college, drawing editorial comics at my school newspapers. I get inspired by people like Matt Groening. He was grinding out “Life in Hell” for like 40 years - well after he became a TV tycoon with The Simpsons and Futurama - just for the love of it.

How did you come to pitch for GO! Cartoons?

Just a random Google search, looking for places to send some stuff. I only barely met the deadline. I put together a thumbnail pitch and sent it on in.

Did “The Bagheads” change much from pitch through production?

The core story was always a brother and sister arguing over trash take-out. But it fluctuated in length quite a bit. There were a lot parts I added and then we condensed or cut out. There were intros, flashbacks - at some point, probably dragons and ice zombies - a lot did have to be trimmed down. Which was tough, because as you can probably tell, I’m a pretty big blowhard.

Who inspired the Bagheads, and were they always, you know… bag headed?

The Bagheads were always bagheads. As a little kid, I used to doodle baghead people with my brother, who inspired me to start drawing at all. We’d draw the guys from Guns ‘N Roses, but with bags over their heads—I have no idea why, but probably because I was kid who was crappy at drawing and couldn’t draw faces. Anyway, it became a running gag between us, we called them Guns ‘N Baggies. And over the years since, I’d draw those types every now and then -- a muscle baggie, an old baggie, whatever. So when I was getting ready to submit to Frederator, I knew the character’s personalities, but I didn’t know their appearances. So I reached into my childhood and pulled out the Bagheads.

What do you enjoy the most about Elbow and Artemis?

Well, what I enjoyed most about the short in general was working with so many talented people to bring it to life. I gotta give a big shout out to Eric, Kelsey, Michelle, JoJo, Sylvia, Paul, Bill, Kevin, Stephen, our cast and everyone else at Frederator and Salami Studios who made this happen. I did not do this alone - nowhere near it.

As for Artemis and Elbow, I’ve always liked duos with friendly antagonism, like Ren and Stimpy, Bugs and Daffy. Those good-natured conflicts where you’re kinda buddies, but you’re also kinda at each other’s throat. I like that Artemis and Elbow’s personalities create conflict: she’s hyper-competitive, he’s lazy. And then there’s their poor clueless dad, who’s working too much and constantly worried about the safety of his kids but doesn’t realize the biggest danger to them is each other. Those relationships can serve up a lot of fun, simple stories.

What inspired Nuke Man Jones, who’s still pulling off the eternal dunk as we speak?

Harlem Globe Trotters, for sure. They basically have superpowers. I was really looking for things that Elbow might see at a high altitude and I wanted something silly. Nuke Man is stuck up there in Earth’s orbit now, cursed to never complete that dunk like some Sisyphean baller fate.

The billion dollar question: do the Bagheads have bags for heads, or are they wearing bags over regular people heads?

Ya know, I’m gonna opt not to answer that one. The question of the bags can remain an unanswered mystery if it gets a series. It’ll be like The Leftovers for kids.

How about some favorite cartoons?

I mean, my Top 10 would just be The Simpsons, Seasons 1 through 10: that’s my all-time favorite TV, right there. South Park can’t get enough love—those guys have turned out classic after classic, and they’re the smartest gross-out humor in history. Looney Tunes, Ren & Stimpy, Beavis and Butthead - Mike Judge is a genius. Jim Henson and The Muppets, even though it’s not a cartoon; puppets count, right? MAD Magazine stuff like Sergio Aragones features or “Spy vs. Spy,” which was an inspiration for this Bagheads short.

I’m also really inspired by old school newspaper comics. It breaks my heart that they’re disappearing. Calvin and Hobbes is gorgeous and the most inspiring thing to me. I just read the entire series again, and it’s as good as ever. I appreciate that Bill Watterson refused all the licensing and merch deals people wanted to make for it. I read once that he left something like $400 million on the table.

That’s amazing.

Yeah. Once, I made a parody album cover for a local comic shop’s art show, and I made one based off of Notorious BIG’s “Ready to Die” cover: Notorious HOB’s “Ready to Live”. People wanted prints so I started selling them, and then it dawned on me that I was breaking the spirit of Watterson’s anti-commercial stance. So I stopped selling them, and just told people, “Sorry, they’re gone!”

What do you like to do outside of your work*? (*everybody else’s play)

I like to connect with my inner hillbilly - errr, inner hippie - whatever it is. I go to the beach and state parks pretty often. And I love stand-up: I just saw Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Amy Schumer, Jeff Ross and Kevin Hart at Radio City Music Hall. It was insane.

What are you working on now?

At the moment, I’m investing all my resources in trying to score “Black Panther” tickets. Otherwise, I'm working on a musical animated series idea with two musician friends, Jeff and Matt. It's really cool and is somewhere between Hamilton and Freaks & Geeks. I'm also working on a comic strip about animals in a post-human world. It's really cartoony, except the president is a photo-realistic opossum whose speeches are just incoherent, ear-piercing screeches. I'm not sure where that falls on the fiction/non-fiction spectrum. So much for giving up politics!

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Great talking with you D.R., thanks for the interview! Looking forward to all of your future endeavors. And I’ll be sure to vote for you if you ever return to politics / being a spy for those wily Pennsylvania Dems.

Everybody: keep up with Phatypus Comics on Facebook and Instagram, @phatypus! And here on Tumblr: @phatypuscomics

- Cooper

#The Frederator Interview #frederator #frederator studios #go! cartoons #interview #cartoon #comic #animation #comics #cartoons #new cartoon #The Bagheads #phatypus #phatypus comics #DR Beitzel

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bizmiss1-blog · 6 years

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Work Life Balance

Ha! Who would’ve thought that I of all people would be blogging about work life balance. I constantly feel as though I have a million things on my plate and that I’m struggling to keep up. Through my participation in clubs, work, and school, my mind is constantly worrying about something. My go-go-go mentality has been like this for about a year now, and I need a change ASAP. It’s to the point where I’m sacrificing my own mental sanity for my jobs and schoolwork.

Let’s start off with a good ol’ example. This summer I got an internship at an advertising and branding agency, which is my dream job! I was so excited to have gotten this position because I’ll be learning the skills that I will be using in the future. However, this internship ain’t bringing in the big bucks, which I quickly realized. I already bartend on the weekends, but that’s only one or two days a week. So, I began searching for a third job and finally ended up with a serving job. Within a couple days of school ending, I started my serving job and internship. I had a total of 1 day of actual summer break before being busy again. Looking back, WHY didn’t I give myself a week or 2 to enjoy life and relax with my friends? Jumping from finals to putting in over 55 hours per week was wayyy too much for my brain to handle. I should have lessened my commitment and started working later in the summer. This way I could’ve gotten a few more days of freedom to be with my friends in the moment. However, I have made a few changes in the past week, which has already made a huge impact on my wellbeing and general state of mind. Although I still have lots going on, I found ways to relax and destress so that I can actually enjoy my summer. I made a quick list of everything that has helped me find my work life balance, which I would like to share with you all. Of course, this list is far from perfect or all-encapsulating, but it’s the tips that helped me out the most! With that being said, enjoy folks:

1. Enjoy the lunch break It’s called a lunch BREAK for a reason. Concentrating a full work day is not good for our brains or our mental health. The human body needs mental breaks to function to its full potential the rest of the day. At my internship I get a 1-hour lunch break every day. I used to only take 20 minutes in order to prove my dedication to the job to my boss. However, I soon realized that 20 minutes was long enough to eat my lunch but was not enough to fully decompress. I would start work earlier after lunch than my coworkers but found myself constantly checking the clock to see how long I had left at work. The past couple weeks I have started to take the whole hour long lunch break and have seen amazing results. What do I do for the whole hour? Well yesterday I walked down to the river and ate my salad on a park bench while listening to Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World”. Yeah, I might’ve gotten a weird look or 2, but it was so relaxing and nice to actually get to take my mind off of work and be there in the moment. Today, I’m sitting at a coffee shop enjoying my lunch, sipping a coffee and taking my time writing this blog post. Okay, I should probably be taking a mental break from EVERYTHING and just relax, but it’s still nice and relaxing to reflect and write. When I head back to the office, I feel much more clearheaded and ready to dive back in and get to work.

2. Meditate Meditate? Isn’t that for granola people? My exact thoughts a month ago. However, my coworkers took an hour break one day to go do yoga in the park and my thoughts changed right away. I had never done yoga before because it had always seemed daunting and something that I wouldn’t be into. But that day in the park changed my mind. With the warm breeze rustling through my hair as I had my eyes closed, it was amazing. Slowly moving from position to position allowed me to release all the tension I had built up over the past couple weeks. I could actually FEEL my muscles relax and stretch out, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Although we did yoga and meditated for an hour, even just a 5 or 10 minute meditation does wonders. The past few weeks, I’ve taken it upon myself to take regular breaks every few hours to reflect and relax. I like to choose a quiet spot outside in the sun or in my room where I will have some peace. I then close my eyes and focus on my breathing, making sure that I fully inhale and exhale to fill my lungs with pure, new air. Even if I have a deadline to make or something else to worry about, I push it out of my mind for these few minutes. It will still be a worry in 10 minutes, so there’s no use stressing about it during this time. Life will always have stressors, but it’s so important to take the time to breathe and remember to take life one day at a time.

3. Don’t always DO something with your friends I don’t know about you, but my friends always want to DO something. For example, they always want to go out to dinner, go downtown on the weekends, or go to the beach. All of these are always fun but are not relaxing. Most of the time, it’s an added effort to go out with friends and take something else on your plate. Sometimes it’s just nice to have a relaxing night in with your friends where everyone genuinely enjoys everyone’s presence without needing a set activity to do. This allows for you to destress while being with your friends at the same time. Sometimes if I have too many planned activities, even fun ones, I feel as though I have not had the time to mentally relax if I am jumping from one activity to the next. For example, this past weekend, I worked at my serving job until 4 pm and after eating something quick, I went and met up with my friends so that we could go to the mall, a run, and then out for the night. Although it was a fun day, I did not allow my body and mind to relax and decompress. I have realized that when I am hanging out with my friends without plans, I feel recharged afterwards and am ready for anything.

4. Don’t be afraid to say “No” My boss is the type to always want to overload me with projects and tasks. Although this is great for my learning and professional development, I’m only human and can’t always juggle the 7 different tasks that he throws my way. In the beginning, I busted my butt trying to please him. I got all of the tasks and projects done that he had asked of me, but never felt very confident in the work that I had done. It went like this for the next few days until I mentally could not take on another task. Finally, I told my boss that realistically I could not do all the tasks he had asked of me that day but would work on it tomorrow. He looked a bit surprised but agreed. In the end, I submitted projects that were more thought out and on track with what was expected of me. My boss was much more receptive to my work and genuinely complimented my project. I felt more of a sense of accomplishment because the work that I had done, I had pushed myself to the fullest and was able to focus on just one project at once, rather than multiple. Yes, working quickly is expected of you but working effectively is an even better quality. Finding the balance between not enough work and too much work is tricky and may take some time to figure out. In fact, it took me a few years to realize my limit, but ended up being for the best. I now know what I’m capable of and don’t push myself past that. Sometimes you will have to turn down tasks so that you can focus more on the others, and that’s okay.

Overall, I have grown tremendously in the past couple of years at La Crosse. I am by no means an expert in work life balance, but I hope that my top few tips can help you in your own struggle. College is a difficult period in everyone’s life because we now have much more free time, much more homework, and much more responsibility that we have to manage. Am I missing anything else on my list? Let me know in the comments! As a girly that barely has free time, I need all the tips I can get too!

#mkt400uwl

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nykhaela-ackerman · 3 years

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QuaranThoughts: A Glimpse Into My 2020 Psyche

It seems like it’s almost been a year since everything suddenly changed due to the global COVID-19 pandemic crisis. Overall, 2020 has been filled with one tragedy after another. Starting off with the eruption of the Taal Volcano, threats of World War 3, the pandemic crisis, issues of racism, government incompetence, and many more events that shook the whole world. As someone living through such seemingly historical events, I felt anxious of what the world will come to be in the future, as long as what could happen to me. There were even times wherein I felt so anxious and restless because not only did I fear for my own safety, but also for thinking about what the point is in all this.

I felt sad and helpless for living in such a world wherein fighting will never stop, and that it only seems like a pipe dream for governments to be competent enough to deal with certain issues. Not just in the context of the Philippines, but for the world in general, it seems as though no matter what happens, humanity will always be at war with one another, regardless of there being weapons or not. “Humanity will never stop fighting itself until it shrinks to a size of one or fewer,” said Erwin Smith, though he may be fictional, I believe that his words hold the truth. Humans will always find something to fight about, no matter how insignificant a few things might seem and vice-versa.

This world of ours is a dog-eat-dog world, you can’t really trust anyone, not even yourself at times. So, in times of global crises, who will you turn to? The government who seems to only prioritize maintaining the positions they hold? The church with their false promises of comfort? Your school or university that even rids students of scholarship opportunities due to fears of spending too much money despite being owned by a literal billionaire? Your family who you may or may not even feel comfortable living with, depending on your relationships with them? Your friends who you don’t even know if they truly care about you? Yourself, who’s not even sure about your identity or reason for being alive? All we know is that we don’t know, after all we’re just human beings who were suddenly thrown into this world and now have to deal with the chaos that comes with existence.

Anyway, before I end up getting way too depressing or overshare too much of my personal existential crisis, let me go back to talking about the pandemic. So first of all, I would like to share my own personal experiences and sentiments about being in quarantine, before I delve deeper unto more meaningful thoughts in terms of its effect on society. As a lazy introvert who never liked going outside nor have never experienced going anywhere without any family members, I personally do not mind the thought of just staying indoors all the time. As a matter of fact, I even feel relieved that I don’t have to actually socialize or interact with anyone because of how socially awkward I am and how I just don’t feel comfortable with dealing with social cues and all that stuff. Also, one of the reasons why I prefer online classes is also because of my personal self-image and self-esteem issues.

During online classes, I don’t have to show the rest of my body nor wear an uncomfortable uniform whose buttons could burst anytime while worrying about the weird looks I get from people. In addition, I can express my thoughts easier during recitations or presentations during online classes because I do not have to deal with the social anxiety that comes with having to stand in front of a crowd and think about things like maintaining eye contact or monitoring bodily gestures and such. I could also sit however I want more comfortably, while also not having to worry about using the bathroom during class because I can easily do it at home while wearing Bluetooth headphones so I wouldn’t miss out on class. However, the fact that I can think about all these things is a sign that I seem to be privileged enough to actually be able to consider having to deal with online classes instead of face-to-face classes as a better situation personally. This doesn’t mean that I don’t acknowledge the plethora of issues that others are facing because of it, I was just sharing things from my perspective.

Upon observing what my fellow students have been posting on social media, along with the many news articles out there, I have been dragged back into reality. Not everyone is lucky as I am to have WiFi and gadgets at home to be able to comfortably deal with online classes. Many are struggling to buy load for their cellular data so they can attend classes, others are also suffering from how the pandemic crisis affected their families financially, causing them to likely even drop out and work instead of pursuing their studies. In addition, there are also those who have to deal with balancing the already exhausting mountain-loads of schoolwork, along with helping out around the house with chores or taking care of their younger siblings or ailing relatives. I then realize that there’s more to life than academics, and that there are bigger problems out there in the world that take priority.

Also, upon further reflection, I have realized that not everyone has access to such technologies required for online classes, especially for those who live in far-off areas; those who go to decrepit public schools, those who live in tribal communities, and those who live with a seemingly inescapable sense of poverty looming over them. As a citizen of a third-world country who has been more exposed to foreign media, there were time s that I have forgotten that the educational norm for the Philippines is way different than that of those living in first-world countries. I have remembered how there are many people in this country of ours who lack capabilities to enroll in academic institutions for high quality education, along with not even having enough finances to even survive living in the slums, and yet they are expected to have the resources to deal with online classes. Also, what about children who can barely even read or write? Do they expect them to be able to send emails at the ripe age of five?

I think the heads of such universities or schools are forgetting that students and teachers are also human beings in need of breaks and that just because we’re at home doesn’t mean we have all the time and energy in the world to just do nothing but deal with academics. Even machines can overheat or explode due to overwork, there needs to be a time to cool down, so that we may spend even just a little bit of time to be just people, to just be ourselves and live our life beyond the confines of stressing over exams, quizzes, modules, grades, and such. There’s more to life than just slaving away and doing what you’re told to do, school shouldn’t be a medium to train people into becoming tireless slaves who will always bend to the will of those in power. As a matter of fact, because of spending almost all of my time dealing with academics, I barely have anytime to explore who I am and what I want in life; I don’t even see a future for myself beyond graduation, I can’t even see myself as not living as a student. Just because I have seemingly good grades does not mean that a bright future is automatically guaranteed for me; how am I supposed figure out how to survive in the real world while I further continue to lose the will to live as time goes by?

While I sit comfortably at home as I pursue my other hobbies or stress over deadlines of activities, many people out there are starving and struggling to look for jobs, and many are fighting for their rights to be treated as human beings instead of yet just another number in the ever-growing mortality rate due to the pandemic or even because the government silenced them for speaking against those in power. The world is at war with itself, and yet there are many of us who act like frogs sitting in a tub of water without realizing they are slowly being boiled alive. We’re not in a sauna or in a relaxing hot spring, we’re in a living hell where of everyone is exposed to the same amount of fire. They may say that we’re all in the same boat, but we’re actually in the same ocean in midst of a storm; we’re all on different boats, some may be lucky enough to have yachts or cruise ships, while others are struggling to stay afloat on a piece of driftwood. Even if this pandemic crisis someday comes to an end, the struggles of humanity never will.

This then begs the question, “Why do we even try so hard to survive in such a cruel world? What’s the point in living? Why even try if we’re all just going to die?” Personally, there are many times wherein I contemplated just taking the easy way out and I still do; I know I’m still young but it doesn’t invalidate how tiring it feels to be alive, and how it will just continue to get even more tiring and difficult as I continue to live. Well, as Mikasa Ackerman puts it, “the world is cruel yet beautiful at the same time,” so if we truly want to see how such a world can show such beauty, we must continue to try to survive in this world we were born into so that we may find what it means to genuinely be free. After all, as Eren Jaeger puts it, “if we win, we live. If we lose, we die. If we don’t fight, we can’t win. So fight. Fight,” so that we may be able to see a world worth living in. Fight, so that we may be able to live someday in a world where we no longer need to fight, as illusory or delusional as it may seem.

Before I bombard you with any more Attack on Titan references or depress you with my own personal issues, it may be time to end this essay of mine. Overall, whether it be a global pandemic crisis or any other issues surrounding human conflict, it cannot be denied that this era we’re living in will be a part of human history for future generations to read about. Even if it seems that humanity’s cycle of hatred, greed, and incompetence will never end, we must still strive to make this world of ours somehow worth living in so that we may alleviate suffering, as we continue to grow and evolve as beings aiming to find the meaning of being. No one may know which paths we may take, nonetheless, we should still try to break down these walls, overcome these barricades, and dedicate our hearts so that we may proudly keep moving forward as we fly with our wings of freedom towards the scenery of true liberty. If we just sit here, do nothing and just wait for our corpses to start rotting, what’s the point in living?

Disclaimer: This is just an exercise for our Digital Publishing class submitted to @bertongbigtime. Thank you for understanding!

#acm4305 #acn4305

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g0ldpainted · 7 years

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Prompto cheating on S/O

Hey c:

Here it finally is, part two of the chocobros cheating series!

1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating

Words: 3200+

Genre: Angst, heartbreak, betrayal

Spoilers: Nope

Trigger warnings: Eating disorder, explicit sexual act depicted briefly, cheating

Dating a photographer wasn't always easy. Prompto, if he wasn't busy being a hunter, traveled through the world whenever he could. It was only natural that he had an S/O sharing similar interests. They always went on trips, took magnificent photos of hidden, beautiful areas in all Eos. Most times, the upbeat blonde made his beloved S/O his model - they were absolutely perfect in his eyes. He took tons of amazing photos of them. They were his project. A project that would never come to an end. Prompto had thousands of photos of them that, someday, he wanted to show the world a selected few. Perhaps when they were older so that it'd reflect their adventurous life.

And until recently, everything was going fine. Eventually, their constant traveling came to an abrupt end when Prompto was allowed to go study. He wanted to major in photography; learn more and enhance his skills. Of course, his S/O supported that decision - they would always support him. Perhaps they would've taken that back if they had known what kind of tasks he'd get. Throughout most days, he was gone until late at night, returned exhausted and hungry. They often fought because he simply found no time for their relationship anymore. On weekends, he was busy working as a hunter or on university projects. And on top of that, he was getting booked. Suddenly, people wanted him - and only him - to take photos of their special occasions. There was hardly any time for their relationship, much less a love life. But Prompto was happy - that was all that mattered to his S/O. Actually, he was suspiciously happy considering he barely spend time with his lover. And there sure was a reason for that.

As time passed by, he seemed to grow happier each day; coming home with a wide smile, humming his favorite tunes all day long, suggesting date nights,…. On top of that, their fighting decreased, his stress decreased - all signs pointed to their relationship going uphill again. Sometimes he even brought little gifts, something to show how much they meant to him. Their love life was better than ever. If only his lover knew why.

For the past few days, Prompto had been extremely busy. Deadlines were coming up and he had to spend most of his time with his project partners. However, their relationship was still splendid. He even made a detour to bring their favorite takeout. Not even for a second did his S/O think this was suspicious, they just thought he took their arguments and her complaints seriously and wanted to better himself. Just like they wanted to better themselves - both had to work on their relationship. They had been dating for 8 years. Both didn't just want to throw that away and instead work on themselves. Their dream was to rent a bigger apartment for a potential child - and of course, getting married. Or at least, that's what his S/O thought. And that's why they decided to take their relationship a step further.

They took off of work and instead decided to set up a romantic date - a date in which they'd propose to him. Unlike society tells the world, they didn't think it'd be weird to ask their boyfriend out and their relationship was currently going wonderful - so why not? Prompto was supposed to be at his university from about 8am to at least 4pm. If they had gone to work, they would've left after him anyway, so he didn't know they actually chose to stay and set up an early dinner. If only he had known they were home.

Lucky for him, his S/O went out to buy some ingredients and decoration for their date and most importantly, engagement rings for both of them. They just missed him coming back home with another girl. But that didn't stop his S/O from accidentally walking in on them when they came back. At first, they suspected someone broke into their tiny apartment because the door was unlocked but once they stepped inside and heard the moans of her beloved boyfriend, their heart sunk. The bags in their hands began to feel heavy.

"He's home? Moaning? Oh gosh.. Is he masturbating?" they wondered to themselves as they quietly stepped inside.

While their love life was splendid, their sex life wasn't exactly perfect. Most times one of them wasn't up for it, mainly Prompto as of recently. But if they did the do, they both sincerely enjoyed it. So it wasn't the best.. But still quite good. However, it seemed to lose its spice. That's why his S/O ordered numerous little toys to perhaps spark it up a bit. Prompto knew, he even agreed. They both spoke about it openly, even tried new things when they wanted to. But nonetheless, hearing him take care of himself, threw them off. If anything, he usually asked his S/O to lend a hand.

"You're so good, baby" he moaned, stuttering from the pleasure he seemed to receive.

"Baby..?" his S/O whispered to themselves, carefully closing the door behind them as quietly as possible.

After taking a few steps, the volume of his noises increasing with each inch, their eyes widened with shock. Prompto stood freely in their living room, his pants hanging around his ankles, therefore his bare butt greeting them. A woman kneeled in front of him, completely naked, their head bobbing back and forth while slurping sounds filled the room. Feeling their heart break, his S/O watched the scene unfold. Their boyfriend was receiving a blowjob from some stranger.. And enjoyed it. As much as they wanted to run away and yell at him, instead, they froze in place.

"Are you filming?" the female asked, taking his dick out of their mouth for a moment.

"Of course, baby" Prompto whispered, running his free hand through their hair, "You're doing splendidly."

"Awh" she giggled, running her tongue along his shaft afterward.

"This is seriously the hottest proje-" he started speaking, interrupting himself for a loud moan as she took his entire little friend back in her mouth, ".. Project I've ever started. This is- ugh.. Oh shit..- a masterpiece."

Gulping, his S/O was fighting with their tears. The bags they carried to enthusiastically through the streets were getting heavier and heavier, threatening to drop. And the rings they bought suddenly seemed like such a mistake. Their boyfriend sometimes took aesthetically nude photos of them. Sometimes they were completely naked, other times in lingerie. He always praised them for their beauty. It was never about sex or getting into the mood, he really just wanted to take pictures of them. For himself. Those were photos that were never meant for the public eye. They were his project. That's what he always told them. A project for a lifetime, his masterpiece. But now he found someone better.

Looking around the room while their boyfriend received head, they saw numerous polaroid pictures scattered on the floor. They didn't even have to bend down to see who was on it and what was going on. It was Prompto and that girl. Kissing, numerous of them having sex, him eating her out, her body tainted of white substance, some of Prompto giving her hickeys all over her body and a lot of ones focusing on her body.

"This.. Has been going on for a while" they thought to themselves, biting their lip hard.

"Ngh, fuck. I need to be inside of you" Prompto groaned, carefully tugging her away from him by her hair.

Without saying another word, she got up and they started kissing mercilessly. She even went as far as to rub their genitals together, coating him with her juices. It was highly disturbing to watch.

"How about you let me take a ride on you today?" the female suggested, speaking as seductively as she possibly could, running her tongue along his jawline.

Judging by the way she spoke, she was the one leading them, perhaps even dominating.

"Shit you're so wet.." Prompto whispered, squeezing her butt tightly and pulling her closer to him, "I have something I wanna try."

Nodding, they continued kissing and the blonde slowly lead them towards the bedroom he shared with his long-term partner - the camera still taping everything. The second they disappeared from their eyes, they dropped the bags, barely being able to hold themselves up.

"What was that?" they heard the female ask, "Are they coming home early?"

"Screw them, don't worry.. They'll be gone until later" Prompto groaned.

Judging by the sounds they heard, he was looking for something, lifting stuff and dropping it again. He was looking for their toys. While his S/O was trying to regain their composure, Prompto and his affair started going at it. Their moans were driving his S/O insane. He was being so vocal, something he rarely was with them.

"He's enjoying this more than.. With me" they whispered to themselves.

For a moment, they thought about just leaving and never coming back.. But that was ridiculous. They had all their belongings in this little apartment, if they'd leave now.. They'd have to return. One more glance at the photos he took of them along with the background moaning was enough to break their heart entirely. Perhaps leaving was all they could do - but not yet.

"All along I thought we were getting better.. But he was cheating on me," they thought to themselves, sobbing.

Those 8 years full of laughter, a few tears, tons of traveling and full of love just shattered before them. Every photo he took, felt like a lie. Especially the ones he took recently. And all those suggestions for dates felt like lies, something to make them think they were still being loved.. When their boyfriend didn't care about them anymore. Their biggest regret? Supporting him. They blamed themselves. If they hadn't let him go study, they would've never entered a rough patch. He would've never met that woman.

"Ugh this feels so good" the female moaned loudly, pulling Prompto's S/O out of their thoughts.

Feeling frustrated, overwhelmed with mixed emotions, they pulled the ring box out of their bags and kicked them aside. It didn't seem to bother the two having sex. Still trying to be as quiet as possible, his S/O walked up to their bedroom. The female sat on her boyfriend, indeed riding him, but at the same time, Prompto stimulated her with some toy they had bought. And used. The camera was resting on their drawer, right next to a picture of their 6 year anniversary, still taping it all. With each thrust, they felt their future crumble before their eyes.

"You're so hot.." Prompto whispered, running his free hand along the female's body.

"Hotter than your lover?" she teased him, continuously bouncing on him at a steady pace.

"By.. By f-far" he stuttered.

They were High School sweethearts that were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together. They experienced so many firsts together, been through so much… Yet, it was this exact moment that his S/O realized that they were never good enough. Prompto admitted to having found a new "masterpiece".

"Oooh~ I'm so close" Prompto groaned, throwing his head back, burying it into his pillow.

"Hi honey.. I'm home" they quietly said, unable to raise their voice after what he just said.

He immediately sat up, glanced over the females shoulder to find his S/O stand in front of their bed, near the door. The woman immediately stopped moving, hopped off onto their side of the bed and covered herself with their blanket. No one said a word for a few moments. His S/O just stood there, tears running freely down their face as they clutched onto the ring box in their hand.

"For how long have you been here?" Prompto wondered, his voice shaking.

"Ever since you filmed yourself getting a blowjob" they quietly replied, "Is this just another.. One of your projects? Those you don't tell me about because you .. Want to surprise me with the final product?"

He didn't reply. They caught him. Their relationship was over.

"Is she your project partner? The.. The reason you're so happy recently?" they continued to ask, slowly finding the courage to raise their voice.

The former couple just stared at each other. Their eyes piercing his.

"And your project is just.. Having sex? Taping yourself fucking? Taking nudes?" they called him out, "And.. Casually cheating on the one you claim to love so much.""She makes me feel.. Like I've found a new home" he quietly admitted, "But.. Yes, she is my project partner."

Pang. That was another shot right through their heart.

"You're supposed to feel that way with me!" they shouted, more tears running down their cheek, "I've been with you for 8 goddamned years, Prompto!"

"Please leave, I'll text you later" Prompto suddenly said to the female who immediately began to dress.

"You're not going to text her!" his S/O shouted at him.

"I will!" he replied, raising his voice as well.

"I can't believe you right now.." they breathed out, shaking their head in disbelief.

He took that chance to put on his underwear.

"You probably know where the door is, I assume you've been here before.. Fucking in my bed" they growled, glaring at the one ruining her future.

"And you'd rather lose me than not text her?!" they turned their attention back to their boyfriend who was getting up to guide his affair out of their apartment.

He looked at them for a second, then dropped his head from shame. So far, he had no answer. Prompto walked past them along with the intruder, guiding them outside carefully. It hurt that he still took the time to say his goodbyes to her, hugging her even. It was just another slap in the face that they let them wait during such an important argument.

"Look its.." Prompto began to speak after the female was gone.

"It's what? I'm not good enough? I'm not hot enough? Too fat?" they snapped back.

"We should break up" Prompto flat out announced, "I.. I don't know what I feel for you anymore."

At that, their anger dropped and fell back into sadness. Even though it was obvious that they couldn't go on after what he did.. This was just a little too much.

"Since when is that?" they wondered, wanting to hear for how long he had been pretending with them.

"Ever since I met her" he admitted, biting his lip hard, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry!? Bullshit!" they yelled, "Fuck, Prompto, I wanted to propose to you tonight!"

Before he could speak, they threw the ring box onto the floor with full force. It opened and two wonderful rings fell out of it. As his eyes wandered down towards the rings, guilt was written all over his face.

"I know it's been rough, your fucking university destroyed everything, but not once did I consider cheating on you! You were busy most of the time - I missed you. And now I hear that.. While I was missing you, waiting for you to come home, you screwed around with that stupid female" they argued, "For how long have you been seeing her?"

"Four months" he replied, gulping hard.

Feeling a breakdown come on, they used one of their hands to cover their face.

"Our anniversary was two months ago" they mumbled, realizing how they had been lied to all along, "We were supposed to go out and eat dinner at a fancy restaurant.. I was already getting ready when you.. Called and said you had an urgent meeting with your project partner because of a presentation.. It was her, right?.. And you slept with her that night, didn't you?"

"Ye-yeah" he murmured, feeling ashamed of himself.

At that, their stomach turned entirely. They felt so.. Worthless. Not even the love of their life could be honest with them, even cheated on them, lied over months just to hide that they weren't good enough for him. He even dared to sleep with another woman on their 8 year anniversary.. that’s how worthless she was to him.

"That's .. Cruel" they whispered, tears dropping down onto their shirt.

"I'm sorry" he repeated, running a hand through his hair.

Even if he didn't want to admit it, seeing his now ex-partner so heartbroken did make his own heart ache. His feelings for them weren't all gone.

"You had two lives.. One with her.. One with me. I don't.. I can't believe that you.. Out of all the people.. Did this. I firmly believed your 'I love you's the past few months. Now I know those were lies, too. We were a lie" they mumbled, "I tried so hard to fix this. Prompto, you don't know how much I love you.. How happy I was for you for getting accepted to that university.. That you could finally follow your dream.. But now I know, I was never part of that dream.. I was only your backup plan in case you wouldn't find someone better. But you did. And you met her at that university."

"(Y/N).." he whispered, "I.. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry. You carelessly had sex with another female countless times without showing regret - you probably wouldn't have told me if I hadn't found out" they warned him.

He only nodded in reply, unsure of what else to say.

"Please delete all photos of me that you own.. I don't want them to be used at some exhibition and.. You found a new masterpiece anyway. She wouldn't agree to this," they announced, removing the hand from their face to look into his eyes one more time, "I'll leave now. I'll keep the keys until all my stuff is out.. Then I'll drop them into your postbox."

"But what about the rings..? And I saw you bought tons of food?" Prompto asked, gently touching their hand as they were about to turn around and walk away.

"Keep the rings.. Maybe your new lover wants a serious relationship and not some casual fun. It's food and decorations. We were supposed to have a beautiful dinner tonight.. But no. Just use it for yourself or your lover.. I don't care" they replied, not turning back around to face him.

After that, they stormed out, not looking back at him and slamming the door shut loudly. In romance movies, the guy runs after the girl.. And they prayed that a similar situation would happen to them, that he would still have feelings for them. But Prompto never came. He didn't care about them anymore and now they had to deal with the heartache of having lost the person they most cherished.

It didn't take long before unhealthy patterns snuck into their life. For a whole month, they couldn't do a thing, just wasted away at a friends place. They even lost their job. On top of that, they compared their own body to the female's one right after they broke up, pointing out every flaw that could've caused Prompto's decision. They wanted a reason, wanted to know why they weren't good enough for him when they gave him their all. It led to them skipping on food. The amount of weight they lost in such a short time was insanely unhealthy.

When they went to pick up some of their stuff for the first time, they had a complete breakdown as they saw how different their apartment was. All their photos were gone, he bought some new furniture but what really shook them up was a photo of him and the female he cheated on them with. They seemed to be dating. He moved on.. while they were still struggling to find a reason why.

Masterlist ; 1st Part ; 2nd Part ; 3rd Part // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ignis cheating 1 ; 2 // Ravus cheating

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

Text

Tripping Over the Blue Line (33/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence AN: It’s deadline day! Regina’s phone battery is constantly dying, Killian is super stressed out and the New York media continues to be the worst. Just timeline-wise, in case you guys were wondering, we’re in March here and just about a month removed from the start of the playoffs, which last, approximately, forever in hockey. As always you guys continue to blow my mind with your response to this story, which would be nothing without @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan. Also hanging out on Ao3, FF.net and tag’ed up on Tumblr.

“What are those?” Killian asked, narrowing his eyes at his phone screen.

Emma laughed on the other line, several hundred miles and state lines away, and half a dozen of his organs seemed to contract at once. “You’ve never seen flowers before?” she asked, obviously stretching her arm out until the entire frame was just a sea of red roses.

“I am aware of what flowers are, Swan, I’m just curious why you’re sticking your phone in them.” The laugh was a huff now and Killian felt himself smiling out of instinct – and maybe missing her a bit more than he realized before this FaceTime phone call.

It was easier if he could see her though.

And it was deadline day.

She hadn’t even grumbled about how early it was – not really, but early by Emma-standards on a Sunday seemed to be any time before noon – and he was already at the arena and she was sitting in her office, feet propped up on her desk, just a few inches away from, what appeared, to be two dozen roses in the corner.

“Ok,” she said, spinning the camera back around until all he could see was her face and that infuriating piece of hair that never wanted to cooperate when she pulled it up into a ponytail. “Several things. First of all, I didn’t stick my phone into them. I was showing them to you. And second of all, shouldn’t you be at pre-game or at least in front of a locker?” The answer, of course, was yes. He should have been at his locker, at least, fifteen minutes ago and he had been – at least for a little while. He was, after all, already in pads, but then he could hear the media making their way into the room before puck drop at noon and, suddenly, there was nowhere in the entire world Killian Jones wanted to be less than in front of his visitor’s locker in Minnesota.

There was something almost oddly poetic about deadline day happening while they were in Minnesota. Anna had mentioned it several times in the last week – practically crowing about the vest Killian wore to coach his losing team and then announcing, in no unquestioned terms, that this road trip was some kind of sign.

It, apparently, meant something.

Killian only thought it meant he couldn’t be near his girlfriend when things, quite possibly, went to complete shit.

He’d never felt more clingy in his life.

“And,” Emma added, eyebrows pulled low like he hadn’t responded simply because he didn’t appreciate her first two points. “You’re the one who called me.” “Maybe I just wanted to talk to you,” Killian said, trying, and, failing to make his smile look convincing.

“Yuh huh.” “Who are the flowers from, Swan?” “Couldn’t you read the card? That’s why I moved the phone forward.” “I thought you were just pushing your phone into the vegetation.” “Vegetation,” she repeated and he’d probably be able to score six goals that afternoon fueled only on the sound of her laugh. “That’s awfully clinical.” Killian shrugged, pushing back into the corner he’d taken up residence in. “Where are you, anyway?” Emma continued.

“I have no idea honestly,” he said. “I walked out of the locker room, called you and found this very comfortable, dark corner that I’m considering claiming as my own.” “You’re half dressed though.” “Also true.” Emma clicked her tongue, mouth twisting slightly and he knew there were more questions, knew exactly what she wanted to ask – why he was considering claiming this very comfortable, dark corner as his own. He didn’t really have an answer.

At least he didn’t have an answer that wasn’t, simply, deadline day.

“Mrs. Vankald,” Emma said suddenly, voice catching him off guard. He nearly slid down the wall.

“What?” “Mrs. Vankald,” she repeated. The smile on her face probably could have helped set up several goals as well. He was primed for some kind of record day at this point. Maybe that would make the deadline easier to deal with.

“Mrs. V is sending you flowers.” “Was that supposed to be a question? It didn’t really sound like a question.” “I have no idea,” Killian said and, well, at least it was honest. Emma’s laugh sounded a little sad – that probably wouldn’t score any goals or notch any assists.

He needed to stop this train of thought.

He needed to go back to his locker.

He didn’t want to answer anymore questions.

Killian already felt like he’d stolen the charity game – and someday he was going to do something about stories coming out at the most inopportune moments, but it felt a little ungrateful to start spouting things about the media at this point in his career.

And Regina had told him – with a very specific look on her face – that he was only supposed to make comments on the games and the standings and how determined he was to win a Stanley Cup this season.

There would be no comments about the impending trade deadline or his contract or if the Rangers had changed their mind on that Cup Clause. Scarlet was still bragging about coming up with that.

Killian had checked him during morning skate.

“She wrote a note,” Emma added, voice barely above a whisper and, oh, he was an idiot. He’d thought, well, he’d thought a lot in the last week and she hadn’t even been upset about commandeering her event and the press for her event, just asked him to take her home and left a toothbrush on his sink like she belonged there.

She did.

He wanted her there. And he didn’t want to even consider another offer that afternoon – had told Regina that more times than he could remember at this point. Probably as often as she’d told him to only talk about the standing in post-game and pre-game and daily media availability.

He’d held up his end of the bargain.

He just hoped she had too.

And he hoped Emma wasn’t bordering somewhere close to terrified because Mrs. Vankald had leapt over the blue line and into the crease and was probably standing on top of the net now, swatting at anyone else who came close with a goalie stick, trying to make sure that this relationshipworked.

“I’ll call her,” Killian muttered, wondering when he’d find five seconds to do that when he was supposed to be at his locker already and on the ice in an hour and a half.

Emma blinked, jerking her head back slightly. “Wait, what?”

“What does the card say?” “That she was thankful for the tickets to Casino Night and getting Liam back on the ice and she really enjoyed the latest episode of Locked In. She called it that by the way, so she’s obviously listening to you because you’re the one who started a nickname for a fake show.” “Don’t let Locksley hear you call it fake,” he cut in, some of his nerves forgotten as soon as Emma’s eyes met his.

He wasn’t just clingy. He was far too emotional for his own good.

Maybe he’d get a few penalty minutes that afternoon too. Just to work out some of that residual emotion.

“Strangely enough, Robin Locksley isn’t FaceTiming me an hour and a half before he’s supposed to get on the ice,” Emma said knowingly, eyebrows lifting slightly. It didn’t sound like an accusation. It didn’t really have to.

Killian sank onto the ground, legs stretched out unceremoniously in front of him as he held his phone loosely in his hand. “Yeah, that’d probably be weird,” he admitted.

“Probably.” “They are nice flowers.” “Made my whole office smell like a garden instead of game-worn jerseys we’re going to sell.” “Why didn’t Kristoff take those?” Emma rolled her eyes and her chair creaked when she moved. “Because he’s got a million and one other things to deal with, especially if you guys get someone or several new someones later on today.” “Or lose someone.” It was like Emma had been waiting for it, eyebrows moving up her forehead slowly and with as much meaning as that almost accusation from a few minutes before. “Is that why you’re hiding in the corner, then?”

“No one is hiding.” “Alright,” she amended. That piece of hair would be the death of him. “No hiding. Is that why you’re mad about me getting flowers from Mrs. Vankald and threatening to call her?” “I probably should call her,” Killian admitted. They’d been at the charity game – several clichés exchanged via text messages about Liam getting back to the top of the hockey mountain and Killian had only half listened, that obnoxious little voice in the back of his head that liked to remind him how guilty he should feel at all times, rearing its head as soon as his brother laced up his skates.

Liam stayed at the brownstone and took them to dinner the day after the game and Killian had come up with several almost plausible excuses as to why he didn’t go. The Vankalds believed him. Liam didn’t.

Liam just nodded slowly, eyes bright and a very specific look on his face and he told Killian to say bye to Emma before he got in a cab and a flight back to Colorado.

He wished he’d won that charity game.

And not stolen Emma’s thunder.

The uncertainty of it all was, he was convinced, slowly driving him crazy.

“Hey,” Emma said softly, shaking him out of his own thoughts and that was probably for the best. “We agreed. No guilt circle.” She smiled and the voice in the back of his head quieted just a little. And, not for the first time, he wished she’d been able to come on the road trip.

Most of the front office had. Ruby was probably, at that very moment, trying to track him down and even Zelena had flown out to Minnesota on the off chance that they signed someone new. It didn’t feel like an off chance.

“There’s no circle, love,” Killian lied.

Emma laughed again, swinging her legs off her desk and nearly knocking off another stack of papers. “Sure. You always look like that then.” “Devilishly handsome.” “Jeez,” she sighed, shaking her head, but she didn’t actually object. That felt a bit like a victory. “Come on, fess up. What’s wrong?” There shouldn’t have been anything wrong.

It was deadline day, but that didn’t really mean anything to him. Or it shouldn’t. Because Killian knew Regina’s phone battery was almost always somewhere in the realm of critically low – she’d started carrying one of those portable charger things in her pocket now and Scarlet made a robot joke a few days ago that earned him several checks from Robin.

He wasn’t going anywhere, despite the rumors or the lack of rumors or however many calls Regina’s phone battery had to deal with.

And that was as terrifying as it was exciting and very, very permanent.

“Did someone else offer?” Emma asked and Killian would have been impressed if he weren’t so goddamn emotional. “You don’t think front office is going to do something stupid, do you? They wouldn’t do that.” “No, no, there’s no trade in my last deal. I don’t leave unless I want to leave.”

“And you don’t want to? Leave?” He snapped his head up so quickly he was worried he’d done permanent damage to his neck. Emma’s eyes kept darting between the flowers and the phone. “No, Swan,” Killian promised, doing his best to infuse two words with some kind of everything. “I’m good as is.” Good, better, perfect, slightly petrified that the flowers sitting on her desk meant more than two dozen red roses had ever meant in the history of the entire world.

“Good,” Emma said. “That makes two of us. And maybe I should get in on this phone call with Mrs. Vankald at some point.”

His neck was going to snap in half. It shouldn’t make that sound. And he shouldn’t have moved it that quickly, eyebrows practically ceiling-bound while the blush crept up Emma’s cheeks several hundred miles away.

“God damnit, Jones,” Ruby shouted at the far end of the hallway. She had her arms crossed and she must have been taking murder glare lessons from Regina because the resemblance was almost uncanny.

“Uh oh, someone’s secret hiding spot has been found out,” Emma mumbled. She was still blushing. Killian rolled his eyes.

“What do you need, Lucas?” he asked. The glare got more intense. He’d run out of wall space to slink into.

“You were supposed to be in front of your locker half an hour ago,” Ruby hissed, kicking at his outstretched leg like that had personally offended her as well.

Emma made a noise on the phone and Killian tried not to groan when Ruby yanked it out of his hands. “Is this your fault?” she demanded, but her voice lacked some of its bite when she started to talking to Emma.

“Nope,” Emma answered. “I’ve got a ton of stuff to do over here, man'ing home base as it were. We’re supposed to be preparing for whoever we get. I’ve got e-mail templates set with introducing fill in the blank ready to be sent to every season-ticket in the system.” “Efficient.” “Sometimes I’m good at my job.” “All the time,” Killian mumbled and Ruby scoffed.

“She already got your flowers Jones,” Ruby said. “No need to try and woo her anymore.” Emma’s face must have done something because Ruby’s eyes narrowed when neither one of them laughed appropriately at her joke. “What? Who are the flowers from?” “Mrs. Vankald,” Emma answered.

He was getting a headache. He was absolutely going to punch someone later. Roland would probably be the only one who enjoyed it.

Ruby’s mouth fell open slightly and Emma was pacing now – he could hear her footsteps on the video. “Isn’t that your mom?” Ruby asked, the soul of tact.

Killian made a noise, twisting his neck slightly. “It’s easier that way, I guess.” Ruby nodded – like she’d just found the last piece in a 500-piece puzzle – and Killian held his hand out expectantly for his phone. She didn’t give it to him. “You’ll both appreciate this a bit then,” she continued, tossing the newspaper Killian hadn’t noticed she was holding into his lap.

Another story.

Fuck.

He picked up that morning’s edition of The Post, flipping it over to the back out of instinct. “No, no, no,” Ruby corrected. “Right smack dab in the middle.” Killian’s eyes widened and the headache had moved down his neck and in between his shoulders and it felt almost palpable in the grip he had on the paper. “What’s going on?” Emma asked.

“You see the Post today, Em?”

“Nuh uh, I’ve been kind of busy.” “Convenient.” “Stop it, Lucas,” Killian muttered, trying to keep the headache out of his voice. She mimed zipping her mouth shut, leaning up against the wall and kicking at his leg again.

It took hours to get to the middle of The New York Post – or it felt that way – each page adding another pang to the headache he was certain he’d never get rid of. Killian couldn’t remember the last time he’d read anything except the final ten pages of The Post and he wasn’t exactly certain where Page Six was.

“Page thirty-four,” Ruby said, sounding like she was handing out some sort of entertainment-journalism death sentence.

Killian’s glance flitted back up to her and her crossed arms and the slightly triumphant smile on her face. Emma was typing now, phone propped up on the vase the flowers had been sent in. “That’s not exactly quiet, Lucas,” Killian said, nearly ripping apart the newspaper in his quest to get to page thirty-four.

“I’m helping.” Killian hummed in the back of his throat and then he couldn’t really make much noise when he, finally, landed on page thirty-four. And Emma had stopped clicking.

Ruby pushed his phone back in front of his face and Emma’s expression wasn’t quite what he expected. It looked the same as when she’d explained the flowers – slightly nervous, slightly hopeful, slightly expectant with a smile that helped his headache ebb just a bit.

“Huh,” Emma said, nodding towards her laptop and the picture Killian assumed matched up with the one in his hands.

It was them. Of course it was them. At the charity game with his arm around her shoulders and his lips pressed up against her temple and they both looked so goddamn happy Killian couldn’t quite believe the caption claimed that guy was him.

Huh seemed about the best response.

“Oh, did you read the caption?” Emma continued and he didn’t expect the trace of laughter in her question.

“No,” Killian said. He’d been too busy staring at his own picture like it was the first time it had happened.

“Uh, well, Page Six seems to be under the impression I’m the reason you want to stay in New York.“ “They’re not wrong,” Ruby added, finally sitting down next to Killian. Emma groaned and Killian knocked his shoulder into Ruby’s. “What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Neither one of them answered.

“On the plus side,” Ruby continued, seemingly not impressed by the conversation. “You both look ridiculously good in this picture. This is like a PR director’s dream. Right, Em? Although maybe ignore the end of the caption.”

Killian’s stomach lurched and if he hadn’t wanted to go to pre-game before, he definitely didn’t now – words like marriage and popping the question and team player jumping out at him. Emma slumped back into her chair, running a hand over her face, but she hadn’t actually stopped smiling.

Huh. Again.

“I mean, it definitely could have been worse,” Emma admitted. “At least they mentioned the game. That might help sell some jerseys.” Killian had lost the ability to speak, stunned silent by the woman on the phone screen he was now, somehow, holding. And somewhere in between noticing the flowers on the corner of Emma’s desk and reading the end of a Page Six caption, he might have realized he desperately wanted the end of a Page Six caption.

Clingy. Needy. Selfish.

They should put that next to his pre-game introduction. He needed deadline day to be over. He needed this season to be over.

He needed to win a goddamn Stanley Cup.

“Exactly,” Ruby said, snapping her teeth on the word. “And, just think, now you guys don’t have to pretend at all anymore, which is disappointing for the rest of us because watching you two try and interact in a public space while also trying to pretend not to be absolutely disgustingly adorable was pretty entertaining.” “Was there a compliment in there at all?” Emma asked.

“Probably not.” Ruby clapped Killian on the knee, making him jerk back and he cringed when he hit his head against the wall. “Jumpy, huh? Come on, Cap, you missed pre, but you probably shouldn’t miss warmups either. Then Arthur will want to kill you too.” Ruby moved before he could answer, waving at Emma who smiled in return, seeming untroubled by a Page Six photo that had him frozen to the ground.

“Tell me a fact,” Emma said as soon as Ruby’s heels stopped echoing in the abandoned hallway. He hadn’t gotten up yet.

“What?” “A fact. About Minnesota.” “Well, technically, it’d be about St. Paul.” “I’d be more impressed with two.” “I’ve only got one.” Emma’s smile got wider. “I’ll take one.” He took a deep breath and the headache wasn’t quite as bad anymore. “St. Paul has more shoreline along the Mississippi River than any other city in the United States and was formerly known as Pig’s Eye or Pig’s Eye Landing.” “You made that last one up!”

“I promise, Swan, I did not. This used to be a gangster hot bed too.” She laughed loudly, head thrown back and that one piece of hair fell across her entire face. Killian finally stood up. “Ok, come on, that can’t possibly be true. I lived in Minnesota. There have never been any gangsters in Minnesota.” “How do you think they moved alcohol around during prohibition? We’ve already discussed the river.” “You’re making that up,” Emma said again, shaking her head and her hair and Killian’s heart felt like it expanded four sizes. At least.

“There is a museum.” “No!” “I’ve been,” Killian groaned, memories of that second-season trip flitting through his memory. “Next road trip, we’ll go.” Emma’s eyes widened and his impossibly large heart stuttered. Maybe he’d been reading this all wrong. “Yeah?” she asked softly.

“Yeah.” “The eye in the Wild’s logo is supposed to look like a Star. It’s an homage to the North Stars.” “I didn’t know that.” “I figured.” Killian laughed and, well, maybe the flowers weren’t that bad. Maybe Mrs. Vankald knew exactly what she was doing. He really should call her.

“You really ok, though?” Emma asked. “You must have missed pre-game.” “Oh, I totally missed pre-game. Regina is probably plotting my murder as we speak.” “Ah, I don’t know. Weren’t you only supposed to talk about the standings? I don’t think anybody wanted to talk about that.” “Hence why we’re here.” “I figured,” she repeated. Her eyes darted up when there was a knock on her door, distracted for half a moment before her smile got even wider. “Yeah, yeah, come on in guys. We’ve got a ton of jerseys to go through.” “Sorry,” Merida said, just out of frame. “I didn’t think you’d be…”

“No, no, it’s fine.” “Swan?” Killian asked, tilting his head like that would make it easier to see into her office.

The response he got wasn’t quite who he expected. “Hey, Killian,” Henry shouted, nearly pushing Emma’s chair out of the way in excitement. “Shouldn’t you be on the ice?” “Have you been talking to Regina?” “What?” Emma sighed, sneaking back into the corner of the frame. “Go get on the ice, Jones. We’ve got jerseys to organize and e-mail templates to send out and stuff to do.” “Stuff?” “Lots of stuff.” “Tons,” Henry added and Killian got the distinct impression he was missing something. “A whole schedule. I even made a to-do-list for Emma’s to-do-list.” “Ok, kid,” Emma muttered, nodding towards Merida again. “You’ve efficiently proved how much stuff we have to do. Why don’t you help Mer put some jerseys and merch in boxes, ok?” He ran off as quickly as he had run in, a flash of brown hair and twelve-year-old determination and he’d been spending as much time at the Garden in the last few weeks as Killian had. And he worked there.

He was still missing something.

“I’ll call you after the game?” Killian asked and Emma nodded almost immediately.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” “You alright, Swan? You’ve gone all red.” “I have not.”

“I can see your face, love. Come on, what’s going on?” “Nothing.” “Swan.” “Nothing,” Emma repeated, gasping slightly when it sounded like a small mountain of merchandise had fallen over in the corner. “I’ve got to go and I’m not all that interested in hearing about Regina murdering you later, so you should probably get on the ice. I’ll talk to you later.” It didn’t feel quite right, her voice picking up the longer they were on the phone and her face was nearly scarlet. “Ok,” Killian said slowly.

“I love you.” He shouldn’t have been worried about anything. His heart felt five sizes too big now. “I love you too, Swan.” “Go score some goals.”

He scored two goals.

He’d probably brag about the second one for the rest of his life. He knew it was going in before he’d actually taken the shot, stick-handling into the zone and past a defender and the guy in front of him might have actually fallen over at some point.

Killian didn’t notice. He was too busy scoring goals. Twice.

They won and he smiled when he was named third star – certain Emma was probably grumbling over that in her office a few hundred miles away – and that just made him smile even more, walking back into the locker room and the media scrum without even an ounce of the nerves that sent him into the hallway before.

“Cap! Cap! Killian! Anything about the rumors?” Killian didn’t even sigh at the questions – he was on a roll. Mrs. Vankald had sent Emma flowers and Emma wanted to call and thank her.

“I’m not talking about that,” Killian said, certain they were asking about Page Six and those last few words in that one particular part of the caption. “Come on guys, you’ve got to at least let me get to the locker.” The scrum started to mumble, but they did actually move, giving up a few inches of space in front of his locker. He never made it.

“Nope,” Regina snapped, grabbing a fist-full of jersey that must have been almost disgusting. He’d just spent several hours on the ice. The scrum actually groaned. They stopped as soon as Regina turned on them. “Go talk to Scarlet,” she directed, nodding towards the defenseman and his very silent locker.

“His contract isn’t up yet,” a reporter argued. Regina narrowed her eyes. The reporter practically sprinted towards Scarlet’s locker.

“You’re not supposed to be back here, Gina,” Killian mumbled, already aware he was wasting his breath. And then he didn’t have much breath in him at all, stunned by the sudden appearance of Roland on his side. “Jeez, mate,” he laughed, somehow managing to balance on his skates as he grabbed Roland around the waist. “Warn a man first.” “Sorry, Hook,” Roland chirped and Killian shook his head. “Gina says we have to talk to you.” “That so?” Roland nodded enthusiastically, chin hitting up against Killian’s shoulder pad. “Yup. Dad’s out in the hallway waiting for us.” “Of course he is.” “Don’t do that,” Regina said, already halfway out the locker room door. “And don’t try and get information out of Rol either, he’s already been told not to say anything in here around these leeches.”

Killian pushed his heels into his skates, ready, and somewhat willing, to stage a standoff in the the doorway – but Roland knocked on his back, a silent command to keep walking and, well, he was a bit of a pushover.

Robin was leaning up against the far wall a few feet away from the door – somehow already out of skates and they were both probably going to get fined if they missed post. Regina would glare even more at that.

It wasn’t good for the image.

Ariel was twisting the ends of her hair around one of her fingers.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Regina muttered, tapping her foot for emphasis.

“Gina I am, literally, holding your kid while trying not to trip over my own skates. Give me two seconds.” “You don’t have two seconds.” “He’s got at least two minutes,” Robin muttered and there was background noise Killian didn’t expect.

“What is that?” he asked, nodding towards the phone in Robin’s hands.

“God, Locksley, at least hold the thing up,” Liam sighed, “you’re giving Elsa vertigo over here.” Killian gripped Roland a little tighter. “Whole platoon, huh?”

“Don’t be like that, KJ,” Elsa said, leaning to her side like that would make Robin lift the phone. “C’mon Robin pull me up, all I can see is KJ’s knees.” Robin did as instructed and Killian did his best not to meet Elsa’s eyes. It probably didn’t matter much – he was certain she knew every deadline worry he’d had since he’d woken up in a Minnesota hotel.

“And we don’t really have time,” Regina cut in, tugging on the front of her jacket.

“A picture of business-like efficiency, Gina,” Killian mumbled. Roland laughed. “Alright, well you’ve called in reinforcements, so something must have happened during the game.” “You scored too many goals,” Liam said.

“Cryptic.” “Good goals though. That second one especially was nuts. The twins have been practicing that move for the last twenty minutes.” Killian smiled and he wasn’t sure if Regina rolled her eyes because of that or because they refused to stick to the unspoken schedule of this conversation.

“Can we focus, please?” Regina snapped. Roland stopped moving at that. Smart kid. “Time?” “2:54,” Robin answered immediately.

“Are we all just staring at the clock?” Killian asked. “What’s going on?” Elsa sighed. He totally knew what was going on. The deadline went official in six minutes. “And that two-minute time limit was a complete lie,” he added, smirking at Gina.

It didn’t work.

“They offered again,” Regina said.

“Who?” Several different variations of his name were shouted at once and even Roland muttered a soft Hook against the back of his jersey. He’d never been reprimanded by a seven-year-old, that seemed like some sort of backwards accomplishment.

“Don’t do it, KJ,” Elsa said, finally eye level with him after Robin moved his phone. Liam rested his hand on her shoulder and Killian could dimly make out the sound of the twins in the background, still fine-tuning their stick-handling skills.

“It’s a lot of money,” Robin muttered. “You could probably buy several mountains. And then a ski resort for good measure. You could be king of the mountain.” “Several, apparently,” Killian said.

“At least.” “No,” Elsa half-shouted and there might have been tears in her eyes. “Mom sent her flowers!” “Oh my God,” Killian sighed. “Does everyone know that?” “You should call Mom. Oh! Oh, buy her a new pillow.” “Was that Anna’s idea?” “Maybe.” “Five minutes,” Robin cut in. “Tell him how much it is, Gina.” “I would,” she hissed. “If everyone else would let me do my job.” Liam laughed – and the only reason he didn’t melt under the power of Regina’s glare was because he wasn’t actually in Minnesota. “You called us, Regina. We don’t want him here. He’s already been challenged with death if he takes this trade.”

“That’s not true, KJ,” Elsa added, determined to make sure Killian was wanted and not facing the guillotine at some point in his immediate future. “We, just, you know, think you should stay in New York. For reasons.” “You’re not good at this lying thing, El,” he laughed before groaning at a well-placed foot in his side. “Rol, you can’t keep kicking me, mate.” Regina tugged on the back of Roland’s jersey, something that didn’t quite look like agent crossing over her features. It didn’t last long. “I called you to make sure that all the important people in Killian’s life are here when he makes some sort of life-changing decision.”

She took another deep breath and pushed her phone towards him, hardly even waiting for him to readjust the kid draped over his shoulder.

There were a lot of zeroes. More zeroes than he’d probably ever see in New York. He could absolutely buy several mountains.

“Fuck,” Killian muttered. The entire room clicked their tongue in unison – Roland didn’t even notice. At least not that part.

“Hey,” he said, kicking against Killian’s chest pad.

“What, mate?”

“If everyone important is here, where’s Emma?” No one clicked their tongue at that. Killian might have laughed. Or possibly guffawed. Maybe this was all a dream.

“Smart kid,” Elsa muttered from Colorado. “Don’t do it, KJ.” “It’s a lot of zeroes,” Robin countered. Elsa huffed.

“That’s true,” Killian admitted. His mouth felt dry and Roland felt like he weighed somewhere in the vicinity of eight-hundred pounds. “I might need extra PT after this, Red.” Ariel nodded. “Sure, Cap.” “Ok, but seriously, two minutes now,” Robin said as Regina’s phone started to ring in the middle of the hallway.

Nothing had ever been as loud as that phone in the middle of the hallway.

“How long, Gina?” Killian asked.

“Four years. All those zeroes.” He let out a low whistle and tried not to drop Roland on his head. Those numbers didn’t make sense together. “The headlines would probably say something like unprecedented,” Robin muttered.

Liam hummed in agreement and it sounded like Elsa smacked him.

“They’re pretty serious,” Regina added, as if those numbers didn’t prove just that. “They were under the impression so were you.” The room was spinning. He needed to find a wall. He needed to find some ice and skate out some of this pesky emotion. “That’s it?” Killian asked. “Nothing closer?”

“Closer to Emma?” “We don’t have time for this, Gina.”

She couldn’t argue that. Her phone started ringing again. “No,” Regina answered and he didn’t realize two letters could ever hold so much disappointment. “Nothing. The Stars dropped off when they realized you didn’t really care. The rest of them all ran away as soon as that story came out in LA.” Killian’s eyes darted towards Elsa out of instinct. She was resting her chin on Liam’s shoulder, standing up now with one hand on her stomach.

She absolutely knew.

Elsa shook her head slightly.

“No,” Killian said. No one had actually asked him a question.

“No,” Regina repeated. It wasn’t a question either.

“I’m not going. Tell them thanks, but no thanks. Make it nicer than that though, that was a lot of zeroes.” “I can do that.” She swiped her thumb over the front of her phone – like that proved that – and wandered to the far end of the hallway, muttering words under her breath that didn’t quite sound like the apology and refusal Killian had requested.

“She’s going to completely ruin my reputation,” Killian sighed, shifting Roland as he tried to back up towards the wall behind him.

“Whatever’s left of it,” Liam laughed and Elsa hit his shoulder again.

“Shut up, Liam,” Ariel snapped and there were tears on her cheeks. “This is good. Really good. And probably the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” “Sap.” She sniffled in response. “It’s alright, Red,” Killian said. “You can go back to being your slightly frustrated with me self tomorrow afternoon.” “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

Ariel nearly knocked him over when she launched herself at his chest and Killian was happy he’d actually managed to find the wall, arm wrapped around her waist to make sure he didn’t collapse in a heap with a seven-year-old on top of him.

“We’re never going to talk about this moment ever again, alright?” Ariel asked, voice muffled with her face pressed up against the ‘C’ on his chest.

Killian laughed in response, kissing the top of her head as Roland squirmed over both of them. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” he repeated.

Elsa was crying now too – sniffles finding their way into the hallway from Colorado – and Liam had worked her back into a chair, something aboutexerting yourself on the tip of his tongue. Robin just looked passably amused – and a bit proud.

“Did he decide?” Will shouted, leaning into the hallway from the still-open locker room door. “Because I can’t hold off this crowd much longer.” Killian lifted one eyebrow, pulling back slightly to stare at Ariel. “So we might have come up with a plan,” she admitted.

“A plan?”

“Yeah, like, right before the game. While you were on the phone with Emma.” He couldn’t even bring himself to be mad. He waited for it – waited for the telltale signs of frustration and annoyance and interference over this stupid team that wanted to push itself into the middle of Killian’s entire life.

It never got there.

Probably because it had never been there to begin with. They all just cared.

He wished Emma was there.

“Is Emma coming later?” Roland asked, pushing up on Killian’s shoulder. He shimmied down back to the floor, helped along by Ariel who had finally stopped crying, and looked up at Killian with something that felt a bit similar to the want he’d been dealing with all day.

“Nah, mate,” Killian sighed. “She’s home.”

Robin’s eyebrows moved at that, ears almost noticeably pricking up and he glanced at the phone in his hand. Elsa was never going to stop crying.

“You doing ok there, El?” Killian asked and he wasn’t fooling anyone in that hallway. They all knew he wanted Emma Swan in Minnesota and there after games and in some sort of last few words of a Page Six photo caption kind of way.

“Fine, fine,” she promised, brushing her knuckles underneath her eyes. “Go do post before you all get fined.” “See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Will yelled.

“How could you even hear that?” Killian asked. Will shrugged. “It’s going to be fine, El,” he added, looking back down on the screen. Liam was doing that proud thing with his face again.

“Of course it is,” she said. She sounded a bit surprised that he’d ever thought any differently.

“You sure, Cap?” Robin asked, tugging Roland back to his side.

Killian sighed. He needed to shower before he went to post. “Too late now, isn’t it?” “Yeah. Good.” “Go answer the questions, little brother,” Liam muttered. “You can’t afford the fine anymore.” Killian scoffed – but Liam might be right – and he at least needed to get out of these skates. He was starting to lose feeling in his toes. There was waving and promises of how fine it was going to be and Killian groaned when he remembered he’d left his phone in his locker.

He needed to tell Emma.

“Post first,” Robin said, somehow able to read his mind. “Then you can get all romantic and talk about the flowers Mrs. V sent again.”

Killian opened his mouth, but he didn’t even get the question out and Robin was near hysterics when they walked back into the locker room, pulled apart by a horde of press already screaming questions in his face and pushing cameras half an inch away from his nose.

It took way longer than it should have.

Killian sat in front of that visitor’s locker for nearly twenty minutes, answering every question and promising he was as dedicated to New York as he was the night he got drafted, certain this was the year and, no, he didn’t think it would be a problem to play out of the Wild Card spot.

Ruby eventually took pity on him and pushed the horde away and he actually got a chance to shower, certain the jersey would be better burnt than thrown in the pile in the corner of the locker room, and two-thirds of the Mills-Locksley family was waiting for him outside the arena.

“Come on,” Robin said, nodding towards the car parked behind him. “We’re going out.” “Out?” Killian repeated skeptically. “Your kid looks like he’s going to fall asleep standing up.” “Nah, he’s fine. You’re fine, right, Rol?” Roland nodded enthusiastically, but his eyes weren’t really open and it was nearly six o’clock and they’d all been awake for far too long. Killian hadn’t really slept the night before.

“Where exactly do you want to go?” he asked.

The driver was out of the car now. God, he was opening the doors. Killian glanced to both sides, looking for some kind of escape route or the car that should have been his and should have brought him back to his hotel room so he could FaceTime his girlfriend without an entire hockey team giving input.

“You have absolutely negative amounts of choice in this,” Robin said, nudging Roland into the middle of the back seat. “There’s no point in arguing.” “That sounds kind of menacing.” “It’s not.” “Where’s Gina?” “Getting ready.” “Ready? Are we staging a coup?” Robin sighed dramatically, the put-upon sound making Killian laugh. Maybe this could almost be fun. “No one is staging anything unless it’s dinner and quite a bit of alcohol.” “Does Arthur know?” “Arthur will be there, toasting his captain’s glorious return.” “See, now I know you’re lying. Arthur would never toast my anything. He’d just blow his whistle in my face.” “Nope,” Robin said, popping the word on his lips. “C’mon, Cap. No choice. This is happening and I can almost guarantee you’re going to enjoy this.” “Almost.” “Nothing’s a complete guarantee.”

Killian groaned, rolling his head back, but he didn’t argue anymore and he didn’t even slam the car door shut behind him.

This great, big outing that Killian was almost certain to enjoy was, apparently, a sports bar on the other side of St. Paul. There were plastic flags hanging on the awning outside. This sports bar, apparently, prided itself on its Minnesota Vikings fandom.

“Seriously?” Killian asked.

Robin was already halfway to the door. “Get out of the car, Cap.” Killian did as instructed, one hand on Roland’s shoulder as he walked across the snow-covered sidewalk and it was colder here than it had been in New York. That snow probably wouldn’t melt until June.

“I’m staying an hour, tops,” Killian said and Robin nodded, humming in the back of his throat. He was being coddled. He didn’t appreciate being coddled.

He’d turned down several zeroes and a monarchy made up entirely of mountains. He deserved one drink and a full night of sleep and the chance to get out of St. Paul as soon as humanly possible.

The inside of the bar wasn’t much better, a mix of Budweiser signs and the faint smell of spilled alcohol that never quite got cleaned up off the floor and even more plastic flags. Those ones touted the Twins.

“Not exactly the high point of restaurants is it?” Killian asked, glancing at Robin out of the corner of his eye. Only he didn’t just see Robin.

She wasn’t wearing team merch or his numbers and her hair was still in the ponytail it had been that morning, that one piece falling across her forehead when she spun on the spot. And Killian knew his mouth dropped open, knew half of the entire New York Rangers roster and front office was staring straight at him, jam-packed into that crummy little sports bar.

He didn’t care.

He might have breathed out her name and Ariel might have started sniffling again, pushing against his back to try and get him to move. He didn’t have to.

Emma moved first.

She hit up against his chest, hands on either side of his face and lips on his and they could have been in the middle of Times Square and Killian wouldn’t have noticed anything except her. He wouldn't have cared about anything but her.

He kissed her back, arms around her waist out of instinct and he’d half lifted her up before he remembered how heavy Roland had been in that hallway. Emma’s heels popped out of her flats and her fingers carded through his hair and across the back of his neck and someone actually whistled when they didn’t break apart in an entirely appropriate amount of time.

It was probably Scarlet.

“Hey,” Emma whispered, resting her forehead on his.

“Hey.” Will groaned. “God, what a let down. And she planned this whole thing, Cap.” “Wait, what?” Killian asked. His hands wouldn’t stop moving. They kept tracing up and down her side and across her back and he, finally, pushed that piece of hair back behind her ears.

Emma rolled her eyes, shooting a glare at Will for good measure. “That’s not really true. Regina and Ariel found the restaurant. They just told me where to go once I told them I was coming.” “But, no, how?” She smiled when he started stuttering over the words, lips brushing over his and now he really wanted to leave this sports bar. “They have these newfangled things called planes. I got on one this afternoon and it brought me to Minnesota. In barely enough time, but that’s a whole other story.” “No, I understand how aviation works, Swan. But I talked to you today. You were in your office. Putting jerseys in boxes.” “That’s true. I did that.” “So how are you here?” “I feel like we’re going in circles.” Emma blinked once, lips pressed together thoughtfully and her eyes fell down to her shoes. “Is it ok that I’m here?” she whispered. “I didn’t...I didn’t really ask. I just kind of figured…”

He kissed her quiet. And it was completely inappropriate and made for Page Six and those words he thought about every time his stick hit the puck that afternoon.

“Of course it’s fine, Swan,” Killian said. “Better.”

“It’s just deadline day,” she mumbled as if that explained why she’d gotten on a plan that morning. It kind of did.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” They weren’t the focus of the entire restaurant anymore – Robin taking pity on them and shouting something about drinks and darts and celebrating another win – and it was loud and crowded and all Killian saw was green and yellow and that striped shirt she was wearing.

“Figured it might be better than just a face on a screen,” Emma said.

“Infinitely. You really got on a plane though? How come you didn’t tell me?” “It was supposed to be a surprise. I thought we were done for as soon as Mer and Henry got there. He’s known about it for days.” “You were planning this for days?” His heart was seven sizes too big now. He’d skipped over size six entirely.

Emma nodded, fingers tracing over a vein in his neck. “Reese’s had to get her credit card points to go through.”

He didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity, couldn’t come up with a single word or thought or anything that wasn’t how ridiculously in love he was with Emma Swan. It’d probably fuel the entire playoff run.

“Mary Margaret did that?” Killian asked and Emma smiled in response. “I’ll have to thank her.” “She offered.” “That’s even nicer.” “She’s super psyched you’re my plus-one too. I think her exact words were over the moon. She’s been waiting for this moment since August.” “Shame we kept her waiting that long.” Emma laughed softly, burrowing her forehead against his shoulder and if he hugged her any tighter he’d probably crush something. “I know we said we’d do that whole gangster museum thing when we were both in St. Paul, but do you think we could save that one for the next road trip? I’d really be interested in seeing your hotel room.” “That so?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow and she rolled her eyes at the smirk. It had never worked to begin with.

“I promised we’d stay an hour. At most. Mostly to shut up Scarlet.” “Forget Scarlet, let’s just go now.” “Enthused, huh?” “Anxious. Needy. Somewhere close to desperately needing to kiss you.” “You did that already,” Emma pointed out, tapping one finger on the front of his league-mandated tie. “Twice.” “It’s a very strong need.”

She smiled and it landed in his heart and his very center and maybe his soul. Turning more zeroes than he’d seen in his life had, apparently, turned him into a complete sap.

“Forty-five minutes,” she said, pressing up to mumble the words against his lips. “And then the room.”

They stayed for thirty-eight minutes – and Killian wouldn’t say they were staring at their phones, watching the minutes go by, but he wouldn’t have passed a lie-detector test if asked the same question. They were, by far, the longest thirty-eight minutes of his life.

Or maybe that was the car ride back to the hotel. Or the elevator or the walk down the hallway and he hoped Robin wasn’t a complete fool and stayed with Regina and Roland later because he might be acting like a teenager, but Killian drew the line at hanging a sock on the door.

He stopped caring about the time once Emma’s hands started tugging on his tie and making their way down the line of buttons on his shirt and Killian had absolutely no idea where his phone was several hours later.

The sheets were a twisted up mess and Emma’s leg was, somehow, in between his, Killian’s arm thrown haphazardly around her waist with his face pressed against her hair. It was the most comfortable he’d been all day.

“I wanted to come because I didn’t want you to be by yourself,” Emma said, voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Killian smiled against her hair, leaving kisses he wasn’t entirely certain she could feel as his fingers traced across her stomach. “I haven’t felt alone in quite some time, love,” he said softly.

“Good.” She took a deep breath and he knew she’d scrunched her nose against the pillow she was laying on. “Me either.” “Good.”

It wasn’t enough. Not by a longshot. But there weren't enough words and he couldn’t think of any other words and winning a Stanley Cup would have to do.

“You told them no, didn’t you?” “I thought you’d fallen asleep.” “With a whole night ahead and this grand romantic gesture?” Emma asked. “Hardly.” She turned around, twisting underneath his hand and they should probably just move the sheets at this point. They were a hazard. “You did, didn’t you?” “Did what, Swan?” “Told the Avs no.”

He breathed in far more oxygen than he needed, closing his eyes lightly and Emma’s hand rested on his chest, thumb tracing across the line of his collarbone. And all he saw was the Page Six caption and what he wanted and the hopeful expression that had been on her face every time she looked at him.

“Yeah,” Killian said. No more secrets. “I did.” Emma bit her lip, thumb tapping on his skin. “You gave up…” “Nothing,” he interrupted. “I didn’t give up anything at all. Everything I want is here. No matter what.” Emma’s shoulders sagged and the breath seemed to rush out of her. “Ok,” she whispered. “And I’m glad I’m here too. I didn’t say that before.”

“I love you,” Killian said evenly. Ah, there were the words.

“I love you too.”

He nodded and it was as if everything just settled, falling into place and finding its spot and, of course, it happened in goddamn Minnesota.

“So what happens now?” Emma asked, voice still impossibly quiet.

Killian shifted, pressing against her and he kissed her once before he answered, trying to pour every single verb he could think of into one single movement. “Now, Swan, we go win a Cup.”

#cs ff #captain swan ff #ouat ff #cs #csbb #blue line #there are more team feelings here because i am nothing if not constant trash for sports families #and will scarlet is getting real good at playing distraction

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