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sparkbeast20 · 3 years

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You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me reader x mammon #obey me monster love #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me blue lotus petals

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Speak My Name In Tongues

1| 2(you are here) | 3 | 4

Summary: Bruce Wayne is determined to get his daughter to safety and aid (read: take over for) the Parisian heroes in capturing their supervillains of over six years. Unfortunately, these two goals are in direct conflict. (all of biodad bruce things can be read as stand alones but I do post in chronological order)

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Let it be said that Bruce Wayne is a persistent man.

When he wants something, he does not stop on the first or second failed attempt. It doesn’t matter if the world believes something to be impossible. It doesn’t matter if he fails spectacularly to achieve his goal multiple times, in fashions that would likely result in any man of lesser wealth becoming the laughing stock of the global community for months. In order for him to cease his pursuit, he must come to the realization that whatever he’s pursuing is not worth the effort. This is a very rare occasion. Most times when Bruce comes to this conclusion, his decision can be traced back to the trauma of his parents death and the subsequent consequences of his vigilante life style (read: not pursuing Jason’s death, letting Barbara get shot.)

Thus, when Marinette turns down his offer of a safer life, he will not take her rejection at face value. A lesser man might. But Bruce is not any such thing.

Anything that Marinette is involved in-- and he finds that she does a lot-- all oh-so-coincidentally happen to be things that Wayne Enterprises invests in as well. He marks down each and every charity event and gala that she is scheduled to attend and makes an appearance there as well. When he finds that she supports all of her collége friends in their pursuits, he attends too.

Somehow, she manages to skillfully evade being drawn into any long conversation with him and always ensures that there’s a third person involved when he even says hello. If Bruce weren’t trying so hard to have a talk with her, he’d say that her ability to do so was really quite impressive and spoke to the reach of her network. But again, Bruce is trying to convince his daughter that he’s not safe in Paris by herself when the League most likely has a bounty on her head. If Talia finds out that he had a daughter not borne by her-- she’s certainly changed in recent years, becoming more volatile and much less like the woman he fell in love with all those years ago.

He half believes that with Marinette’s wit, intellect, and escape abilities, she may even be able to hold her own against the League. Unfortunate that the League has weapons training and she does not.

“Marinette,” Bruce approaches her at a Bourgeois evening party. She has friends in high places, that’s for certain. Chloe Bourgeois works at her company in the public relations department as does Adrien Agreste, which definitely turned a lot of heads in the fashion industry as nobody expected the boy to work for anybody but his father, nor did they expect him to stop his modelling career in the prime of his life. For modelling works, she turns to Juleka Couffaine and occasionally Olympic hopefuls Kagami Tsurugi, Alix Kubdel, Ondine and Kim Le Chien. Thanks to her connections to Rose Lavillant, she’s produced an entire line of scents that go with MDC’s evening wear. MDC is extensively covered by Aurore Boreale, one of the youngest talk show hosts in the industry, Alya Cesaire, a young journalist who’s won international acclaim with her writing, and Nadja Chamack, a Senior Executive producer of TVi. Though Bruce is rather impartial to the music industry, she’s well known for working with international singers Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and Luka Couffaine as well as an up and coming EDM artist named Nino Lahiffe. In the film sector, she works closely with Tom Astruc and Graham Industries, with Adrien’s cousin, Felix.

As the saying goes, Who you know is everything.

Marinette smiles, teeth bared. Even the way she stands is sharp.

It’s difficult reconciling the girl in front of him with the pictures he saw while doing background checks on her, or even the girl he saw at the bar just three nights ago. At least, it’s difficult for Bruce to reconcile her when she’s around him; Marinette seems to be very much the same girl around her friends, which is almost just as frightening. When she’s with Adrien or Alya of Kagami, it’s as if her parent’s death didn’t even happen. All smiles and sunshine and good will. She still attends all of the charity events she signed up for, has increased the amount of hours she spends volunteering at homeless shelters and akuma shelters-- and Bruce has no clue in hell how Paris’ supervillain situation has gone unchecked for so long, but he already has several agents tracking down Hawkmoth and the Miraculous team to no avail-- and goes to work on a normal schedule. Since Tom and Sabine’s death, she’s taken no time off.

In the presence of Bruce Wayne, however, there’s a great shift in her demeanor. There is nothing warm about her, and despite the fact that Marinette is his daughter and that she’s more than a full foot shorter than him, he finds himself wary of her. That says something, considering the types of people he faces down as Batman near daily.

For the first time, she allows him to approach without dodging him.

“M. Wayne.” Marinette begins to meander to a less public place, all while maintaining a pretty media smile and waving to acquaintances as she passes them. The moment the door closes behind him, a flip is switched.

“Leave me alone,” she growls. “I don’t want or need your protection.”

“Your parents were murdered.”

“You don’t think I know that? I was the one who found their corpses.”

“They’ll come after you, next.” The League of Assassins never leaves their jobs half done. Marinette is more of an achilles heel than Tom and Sabine were-- despite not being in her life, he cares for her. He can’t deny that if she were murdered, he’d probably get caught up in a fit of rage. The Lazarus Pits have not been good for his mental state over the years.

Marinette crosses her arms, sleeves fluttering around her. “You think you know who did it.”

“I don’t think I know; I’m sure who did it.”

“No,” Marinette says in a strangely detached tone. “You think you know who did it. You don’t actually know, do you, Dark Knight?”

Bruce’s stomach fills with dread. Something about her statement makes him feel nauseous. Queasy, even. “I do. The League of Assassins--”

“You think everything revolves around you, don’t you? Bruce Wayne and Batman are not the only ones with enemies.”

“You’re suggesting that you have enemies who would be willing to kill your parents?” Bruce isn’t sure how to take this. Marinette does have a fairly large following, runs in the most powerful and influential Parisian circles, and has money to spare. But as far as his research told him, she didn’t do anything to egregiously offend anybody, besides maybe one Lila Rossi and Chloe Bourgeois, though the latter of the two rectified their relationship eventually.

“I don’t,” Marinette denies. “But Ladybug does.”

“The superhero.” Is his age finally catching up to him?

“The superhero,” Marinette agrees, looking at Bruce contemplatively.

“Ladybug and I-- we’re close,” Marinette settles on. “Close enough for our bakery to become a safe house of sorts for the Miraculous team. Hawkmoth--no, Pavona. She either acted out of anger for her past with me or just wanted to strike a blow at the Miraculous team.”

Bruce feels a migraine coming on. It’s on days like this when he wishes he were a drinking sort of man. “Why would Pavona be upset with you?”

Marinette laughs, humorlessly. “World’s greatest detective, huh? Maybe you’ll figure it out eventually.”

He gets the feeling that their conversation is quickly coming to a close, and figures that whatever issue Marinette and Pavona have is something he can decipher later, “It doesn’t seem like Pavona has done much with this information. The Miraculous Team seems to be in high spirits, and there haven’t been any akumatizations in the past two weeks.”

Another dry laugh. “Wrong move at the wrong time. And besides Ladybug and you, nobody else knows.”

Marinette pushes past him, back to the door, back to the party. She pauses at the door. “I’ll put the two of you in contact. Until then, keep a lid on you and your operative’s emotions. I’m sure trained agents like yourselves can restrain yourself from feeling anger or sorrow for a while.”

Bruce is left with two horrifying realizations: Marinette is in a situation where she’s in over her head, and Sabine and Tom’s deaths have not been publicized.

Batman and Bruce have never liked magic or metas, and Ladybug seems to be both. It doesn’t help that she’s so high strung and seems to be inexplicably angry at him from the moment that he steps foot at their prearranged meetup.

“I sent you the ground rules if you want to operate in Paris. Forward it to your operatives. Follow the rules or leave.”

“I’m here to take down Hawkmoth,” Batman says with a bone-weary tiredness.

Ladybug crosses her arms in a fashion that’s achingly familiar. “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you and your people the ground rules and a chance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be allowed here.”

“Ladybug, you and your team have failed to catch Hawkmoth for six years now.”

“You and your team have been fighting the same set of villains for over thirty years. I wonder which one of us is really worse off.”

Batman grimaces.

The heroine looks out at the night sky and sighs. “Look, this is a very stressful situation. Pavona acted out in one of the worst ways possible, and even though she and Hawkmoth seem to be MIA, it’s still not ideal.”

He remembers that Marinette said Ladybug and her parents were close. Batman stumbles over his words. He’s never been the best at comforting people, and healthy coping mechanisms simply don’t run in the family. There’s definitely a reason why he and all of his children take to vigilantism so well. “Tom and Sabine-- they were great people.”

Ladybug stills.

Batman doesn’t know how old she is, or how old any of the Miraculous team is, besides from Chloe Bourgeois, who used to be Queen Bee. Something in the way her shoulders hunch, how her jaw trembles, and eyes water makes Batman feel like she’s just a child. But she can’t be. Not if she’s been protecting a city for six years. If he had to guess her age, he’d put her in her mid to late twenties, maybe even early thirties.

“They were the most loving people I’ve ever known,” Ladybug says. “It was a privilege to know them.”

He’s not sure who made the decision to not release Tom and Sabine’s death to the public, but Batman recognizes it as a tactical decision. It only took a short amount of time to hack into security cameras near Marinette’s residence and filter through the sighting of the Miraculous Team at Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie, stopping to chat with Marinette or one of her parents, sometimes eating there, sometimes staying the night, using their living room as a gathering point. From there, it’s not difficult to realize that Marinette or Ladybug is keeping this information from the rest of their team in order to ensure that their civilian or superhero identities don’t get compromised by an akuma or a sentimonster.

In comparison to the Scarecrow, who makes his victims fight their worst fears, Batman can’t help but think that turning people into their insecurities and angers is worse. At least with Scarecrow, there’s a chance that people can win against whatever they’re fighting. Once a Parisian is turned into an akuma or sentimonster, they just have to hope that somebody else will come in and save the day. Victimhood with the cruelest twist, similar to when the Joker tried to make Dick into the Joker Jr.

“Pavona. What’s her deal with Marinette?”

Ladybug’s laugh is hollow and familiar. “Didn’t Marinette tell you to figure it out on your own?”

“I need to know,” Batman insists. “I want to protect her. I don’t want her to get hurt like that again.”

“You have noble intentions, Batman,” Ladybug says quietly. “A kind heart. But you are mistaken in thinking that Pavona can hurt Marinette anymore. Even if Pavona tries to, she won’t be able to. Tom and Sabine-- they were the weak link. Everyone else she loves is safe.”

Ladybug pauses, looks sideways at Batman, then stares out at the Parisian skyline again. “Everyone except for you. You’re not safe, here in Paris. You know that, don’t you?”

“She--” his mouth dries. There’s a lot of information to process, but he focuses on one thing. “She loves me?”

He doesn’t think he’s heard those words come out of any of his kid’s mouths. He knows that all of them do love each other in their own messed up ways and knows that his sons and daughters are more likely to show their affection in actions instead of words, but Marinette is a biological child that he’s never interacted with before this month. How can she love him when all he’s done is push her away?

“She loves you.” Ladybug closes her eyes. “But that makes her a fool. She’s clung to the hope that she’d get to know you for years. Look where that’s gotten her. She gets to meet you at the price of her parents' lives. So please, don’t mess this up. The best way to protect her is by making sure that you’re safe. Really, I’d want you to leave Paris and forget about her. She’ll be okay. We’ll keep her safe.”

Batman says nothing for a time. Ladybug is right in thinking that Marinette shouldn’t love him, but she’s not right in her belief that she can protect her. After all, Tom and Sabine are still dead. “But I can make sure no one hurts her. I may not be someone she interacts with normally, but I can’t see her die.”

Ladybug makes a keening sound in the back of her throat. “I know, Batman. We’re not as trained as you and your team. I know you want to keep her safe. That’s why I’m letting you and your team help us. Because we’re just not enough.”

“You’ve done a lot to keep this city safe.” He wants to be mad at her for involving a civilian family, but he can’t find it in him. She seems so young. Does she have parents? Do her parents know that she’s Ladybug?

“But not enough.” She wanders to the edge of the building, yoyo in hand. “When this is all over-- maybe the two of you can spend some time getting to know each other.”

Batman stares at the spotted heroine. “Maybe someday.”

“That’s not very convincing.” Ladybug turns so that he can’t see her face. “Be kind to her. She’s alone.”

“She has you. She has your team.” Neither Bruce nor Batman has been very good at comfort during a time of loss.

Ladybug fiddles with the chain around her neck. Two rings as a pendant. She clenches her fist around them and goes still for a moment. “We’re too similar to comfort each other. And we both agreed that telling the team… it would be disastrous. Tom and Sabine were parents to all of us. Pavona is scheduled to come back soon. If we tell them now, it might end in another mass akumatization. That’s something we have to avoid.”

Pavona is coming back? How did Ladybug even know that she left? How—

Batman stills. The muggy Parisian warmth is only alleviated by a brief breeze that makes Ladybug’s hair ties fly in the wind. Anger wells up in the back of his throat, and he feels the Lazarus in him spike, knows that behind the white film of his cowl, his eyes are turning green. “You know who Pavona is. Why hasn’t she been brought in yet? Why—”

Ladybug could have prevented Tom and Sabine’s death. She could have saved Marinette the loss of her parents.

Marinette could have retained her innocence. Been kept out of the world of superheroes and supervillains, been kept safely on the sidelines if only Ladybug weren’t so selfish, wasn’t so foolish to bring in a civilian family with no training and no background.

“Marinette and I have known for a long time,” Ladybug cuts him off, and he’s ready to put his hands to her throat, but no. Justice, not vengeance. He will make sure that Ladybug’s wrongdoings are brought to light. He will right her wrongs. “For four years, it was Hawkmoth and Mayura. Once Pavona showed up, we thought-- we thought that between her and Hawkmoth that she’d be the lesser of the two evils. We had no clue who Hawkmoth was, but we knew that they were working together. Pavona was left free to roam in hope that she’d lead us to Hawkmoth. That we could finally end the fight.”

Ladybug’s back straightens. She turns, and her eyes are all blue steel and pain. It’s then that Batman realizes that Ladybug truly did love Tom and Sabine with her whole heart.

“I see that I was wrong. Hawkmoth kills indiscriminately. But Pavona-- her grudges run deep. Mayura was the kindest of the three. The reason Pavona killed Tom and Sabine was petty.” Ladybug’s voice crumples, as do her legs. She hunches in on herself, hugging her knees. Batman watches on from a distance.

What was it she said? That she and Marinette were too similar to comfort each other? One day, Batman may find himself furious at Ladybug for making the decisions she did. But right now, all he sees is a child.

“I’m sure you’ve looked into Marinette’s past,” Ladybug starts.

Batman makes a noise of affirmation, but she clearly wasn’t looking for permission to go on. She was trying to collect herself in order to tell a story.

“There was a transfer all the way back in collège. She was very popular amongst her classmates. Beautiful, well connected, charismatic. There was no way people wouldn’t love her.”

Ladybug glances back at him. “Come, sit, Monsieur. I do not know you well, but I don’t bite.”

Bruce— Bruce does not want to sit with her. But Batman says that he has to hear her out. To give her a chance, at least. Batman has made mistakes over the course of his career as well, his actions and inactions affecting too many for him to keep track of. He would be a hypocrite if he didn’t let Ladybug speak, even if Sabine and Marinette are two people he never would have dreamed of involving. Still, he keeps one hand firmly on a batarang. The videos shows that not much damage can be done to the superheroes when they’re suited up, save for attacks with magic, but nothing is absolute. There’s always a way to bring an opponent down. “Is it that shocking of a story?”

“No. Not at all. If anything, it’s a typical story of teenage drama, except perhaps a bit more than that. But I need the reassurance that you won’t run off once I finish.” She lets the two rings go, gentle thud of the two rings pressing against each other and her collar bone. The rings seem familiar.

Batman sits, albeit warily and at least five feet away from his companion. Ladybug hasn’t proven untrustworthy so far, but she is still part meta and a magic user, from what he’s gathered. He wouldn’t put it past her or one of her team, particularly the one who creates illusions, to do something. He just doesn’t know what.

“This beautiful, charming classmate easily swayed Marinette’s class to her side.” Ladybug peeks at Batman through her bangs. “Understand that the classmates are children. Children in a class where power means that trouble and responsibility never stick. They learned that taking action meant you would be blamed.”

Batman wonders how Marinette and Ladybug met. Maybe it was through this very class she’s talking about now. If that’s true, it does not bode well for his perception of her.

“Marinette recognized this classmate for what she was. A liar. She promised all sorts of beautiful things-- things that played to their classmate’s biggest dreams. Working with their favorite artist. Meeting olympic athletes and musicians. Trips to impossible places. Perhaps if Marinette wans’t who she was, she would have believed her, too. But this classmate lied about two things Marinette knew were false. She lied about being a hero. She lied about me.”

“How do you and Marinette know each other?” It was incredibly difficult to find the video evidence of the Miraculous team going to Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Batman had to call in a favor from Zatara and avoiding her questions as to why— he’d much preferred it if he were able to go through any normal channel instead.

“We’ve known each other since the beginning.” Ladybug fiddles with her yoyo, refusing to look him in the eyes. “Marinette tried to get her friends to realize the truth. But everybody wanted what she was saying to be real. It’s hard to say otherwise when everything they ever wanted could be found in a single person. And Marinette didn’t pick the smartest ways to try to reveal her lies.

“That beautiful, charming classmate didn’t like Marinette trying to debunk her entire persona. She grew to be very cunning. She hurt Marinette in so many ways. I lost track over how many times Marinette got suspended or temporarily expelled, only for her to be brought back at the behest of the one other person in her class who knew the truth. Her designs were stolen. The boy she loved grew into a shell in order to protect himself. Her friends drifted away-- not that they were cruel or anything, they were taught inaction above all else, to not say a word about whatever happened in class ever since ecole-- but Marinette was really lonely.

“It was sort of a blessing in disguise. During this time, a lot of the Miraculous Team went on a break of sorts, and it was only Chat Noir and I. We had to get stronger and smarter and Marinette and her family provided relief and moral support. If her friends were close to her during that time, things may have ended really badly. Hawkmoth may have caught on to more secret identities than he already knew.”

“Does Marinette know who you and Chat Noir are underneath the mask?” To put the weight of their alter egos on a civilian is cruel. It’s why his own was so closely guarded. He’s not a fan of Marinette knowing his existence as Bruce, let alone Ladybug.

“The more people who know our identities, the greater a chance Hawkmoth has at taking our Miraculous.”

A non answer. Clever wording on Ladybug’s part. Although he can imagine Sabine agreeing to put up a bunch of teenage superheroes in her bakery, he knows that it’s impossible for anything to escape from her eyes for very long. He’d bet anything that she figured out the majority of the team’s identities. And by extension, anything that Sabien finds out, Marinette is bound to find out as well; her past indicates that she has an equal, if not higher level of intelligence and creativity that Sabine had.

Had. They went for so long without patching anything up. Why was he so foolish? So Hard headed? She offered him so many chances to reconnect, to connect with Marinette, to be a second father to her. She didn’t have any romantic feelings for him left, that much he knew, what with how utterly in love she was with Tom, and he was happy for her. Happy that she found somebody more stable than him.

If he and Sabine were closer, could he have prevented their deaths? Would he have been clued into the situation of a magic supervillain in Paris sooner?

He can’t be mad at Ladybug. Not when Batman, a hero with decades of experience on her, failed to step in. Refused to look old problems in the eye. Let loved ones die for his own inability to communicate.

“For a while, Marinette didn’t fight back. She didn’t want the boy she loved, her best friend, to get in any more trouble than he already was, trying to protect her. She laid low. But the classmate was very interested in this boy as well. The classmate tried to break him to get him to love her.”

Ladybug smiles wryly. “You can imagine that was the end of her rope. Marinette thought that the only person the liar was targeting was herself. After three years of bearing the weight, she finally snapped. She started using the resources she had. And the wasn’t any grandiose thing, though in retrospect, perhaps it should have been. She wouldn’t have ended up in prison, no she’s too young, and one of the two main victims was under lock and key, and Marinette was never hurt to the point where the liar would face real consequences for her actions. All that happened was a restraining order and her removal from Marinette’s school.”

“The girl’s name is Lila Rossi. She was already a suspect for working with Hawkmoth at the time by helping him turn people into akumas. Then Mayura stopped showing up and Pavona took her place. Pavona was clearly targeting everything and anything near Marinette. I should have seen the signs, but I had years of experience on her, and the Miraculous Cure--” Ladybug breaks off. “From one point of view, even Hawkmoth is better than her, because at least he didn’t cause any irreversible deaths.”

The Miraculous Cure is cruel. It only reverses the damage done with a Miraculous or while Ladybug is transformed. When Tom and Sabine were murdered, Pavona and the Peacock Miraculous were nowhere in sight.

Batman can’t say whether Pavona is better or worse than Hawkmoth. But Lila Rossi-- he recognizes the name. He knows what she looks like, since her image came up when he was doing a background check on Marinette. It’s quite possible that she has some type of mental disorder. Now is not the time to think about that. Hawkmoth’s identity needs to be revealed, and quickly. “How did you connect the two with the magic protecting your identities?”

“I used a little magic of my own.”

Beneath them, more and more lights begin to flicker out. Even though Paris is nicknamed the City of Lights, due to the extensive drain on energy, shops are required to turn off their exterior lighting after 1AM.

“Please,” Ladybug says. “Please help me find Hawkmoth. Please help me put them in prison. I-- I’ve been fighting for so long, and it was a duty I didn’t even want for the longest time. I just want all of this to be over. I want to be able to scream and cry and mourn without Hawkmoth and Pavona trying to manipulate me. Please.”

Batman has never been one for physical affection, but he pats Ladybug awkwardly on her back. She launches herself into his arms, curling into him and sobs as he awkwardly rubs her back. He keeps his eyes trained at a distance, watching for any akumas or amoks.

“Please,” she warbles, eyes watery. “Be good to Marinette. Be a good father. Be someone for her to lean on.”

His muscles tighten. He’s never claimed to be a good father, let alone a good man. He tries to do right, but Marinette is different from all of the other kids he’s taken in over the years. She’s not from Gotham. She had parents who were kind and stable and normal. He doesn’t think he can be a good father to her.

Somehow, Ladybug guesses exactly what he’s thinking. “You just have to be yourself. It may be stupid and foolish, but she loves you. She really does.”

For a long time, the two of them stay on that roof, Ladybug buried in the crook of Batman’s arm.

_____________________________________________________

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip

also if i missed you please just lmk in the appropriate place again! and is it a me thing or a tumblr thing that some of these tags just wont WORK AUGH. thank you all for the support on the fics i’ve posted so far! i’m quite bad at posting regularly because all sense of time has been stripped away

hahahaha consistent chapter length? what’s that? (jokes on you these aren’t chapters just loosely related chronologically told one shots. what even makes a cohesive story a story)

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dad bruce #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #marinette is mdc #angst #hurt/comfort #bruce is an okay dad even when he doesn't know he's being a dad #miraculous ladybug #dcu #maribat

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fireblogger · 3 years

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Tips to Reduce Spending

I’ve never had a problem with my monthly budget, mainly because it doesn’t exist. I naturally spend less than I make, therefore there’s always some money for the bills and rarely some time spent managing my money. It’s not a good situation to be in, it’s not the worse by any means, but if you want to build your savings and retire earlier you need to be deliberate with your spending and savings choices.

This is traditionally done with a budget. Now I’m not going to lie, I’m terrible at budgets. I can create them no problem, but remembering to actually follow them? Good luck.

1. The first step to create a budget is to document your expenses. If you don’t know how much you tend to spend then it will be very difficult to create an effective budget. If most of your transactions are on debit and credit cards, then you can go back through previous months to track your spending. Or you can start tracking today so you have a better idea in the future.

2. Once you have a good idea of how much money you tend to spend on various categories you can start building the budget itself. (Don’t forget about annual or semi-annual expenses like car insurance). Make sure you are aware of the differences between needs and wants when you are budgeting.

3. Once you have a budget you aren’t done, you should continue to track your expenses and adjust the budget as needed.

So, now you have a budget. How does that translate to actually spending less money? Here are some behavioral tips to help spend less money:

· Now that you know about how much you spend on things start paying for them in cash. When you go to a grocery store with a $100 bill (or a $100 gift card) you are forced to spend less than that $100. You can’t go over, but if you had a debit card a $112 bill would approve even though it was $12 over your budget.

· Change your daily habits to avoid temptation. Does your route to or from home pass by a fast-food restaurant that you just love? Did you just notice that you actually spend $50 a month there on coffee and French fries? Try taking a side street so you never see the sign. Do you habitually order delivery through your handy-dandy phone? Try deleting the apps, not seeing them on the phone can reduce temptation and the extra step of needing to redownload every time can slow you down when you’re thinking about ordering. Even if you don’t want to delete the app you can hide in somewhere in the back folders of your phone so you don’t see the icon and thing huh, think imma get myself some pizza.

· If there’s a consistent ‘treat’ you like to get, think about low-cost alternatives. For example, I love pizza. Like, it’s not healthy, neither is my solution but we’re talking about money not fitness. I will often keep some tortilla shells, a cheese blend, and a bag of pepperonis on site. Then if I’m craving pizza, I can make myself a 400 calories pizza roll that costs less than 50 cents instead of spending the minimum of $10 (to deliver) which usually ends up being a $12 order which also has a delivery charge, tax, and tip and becomes something closer to $20 for a single craving?

· Consider how your spending habits change when you’re emotional, are you more likely to buy yourself a treat and how much does that treat cost a month? Make the decision before-hand to redirect emotional buying to other positive behaviors instead. Things like working out, calling a friend, drawing a doodle of whoever pissed you off then burning it in the sink, or meditating. Whatever you do, don’t open up Amazon.

· Ask yourself if you need something or want something before you buy it. Do you need those new shoes? Or do you want them? Taking the time to add one more mental step before actually spending the money can help reduce impulse purchases. My No Spend Year | Michelle McGagh | TEDxManchester is a great TED Talk on this topic.

· Forget trends. Don’t even bother trying to keep up with all the newest fads. And if a fad looks really cool? Take a step back and ask yourself if you really think that this new item is actually useful and will add joy to your life, or if you just think it is because of herd mentality.

· Don’t go into debt to buy things. This mainly applies to credit-card debt and doesn’t really apply to houses (especially if you plan on getting a duplex and renting out of it). If there’s something that’s really cool, it will still be really cool when you have the money saved up to buy it in cash. It might even be really cool and cheaper if a new model comes out in the meantime.

Pay down your debts. This is less advice to reduce immediate spending and more advice to avoid future spending on interest payments. There are two main schools of thought when it comes to paying down debt:

1. Start with the high interest debt. This makes the most logical sense as high-interest debt will end up costing you more in the long run.

2. Start with the lowest balance, regardless of debt: This makes the most emotional sense. People are human, and they like to see progress on their goals. The feeling of success when you pay off a debt completely can help spur you on to tackle the next debt.

Starting with the high interest debt is my preference. I want to save every penny possible, and that’s the way to do it. But if you know that you may have difficulty sticking to a plan, or if you want the satisfaction of paying off your debt then the second option is a fine one to take.

Changing your behavior and paying down debt are some of the harder steps to take when trying to spend less money overall. Here are some simpler, practical, pieces of advice:

· Buy in bulk. When you go grocery shopping do some meal planning first and buy in bulk. If you have a larger family then stores like Costco or Sam’s Club can be very useful to get some discounted prices. However, if you’re like me and live in a very small household then buying some items in bulk at a local cheap grocery store can be just as effective without cluttering up limited storage space.

· Explore secondhand shops for new appliances, clothes, furniture, etc. Online marketplaces like Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace can be great places to get good deals. There’s no need to spend $50 on a waffle iron when the Youth Ranch down the street or Bob around the corner is selling one for $5.

· Price-shop. Amazon won’t always have the cheapest prices, and while convenience is nice they aren’t the only home delivery store. Shop around to see where you can get the best price for your purchases.

· Don’t buy as much stuff, borrow it if you can. If anyone knows me then know how much I love books. I used to have multiple bookcase that I would move about once a year when I switched apartments. Over time I forced myself to give away or sell most of them, and now check the local library for my next read. And by now I mean pre-COVID-19. But post Covid I’m sure I’ll be back at it!

· Look for long lasting, high-quality versions of products. A nice pair of shoes can last you five years or more in my experience. If you can, save up for the longer lasting versions so you don’t have to replace them as often.

· Reduce any monthly bills that you can. If you consistently have rollover data that may mean that you should pay less for less data. If you’re going to the gym just to use the treadmill, consider walking around the block a few times instead. Decide if you really need all those streaming services that you pay for.

· Adjust the thermostat, especially if your home isn’t especially energy efficient. Keep the apartment a little colder in the winter and a little warmer in the summer for power savings.

Finally, this is all well and good. But how do you actually follow through? The best person to answer this is yourself, but here are a few options:

1. Get an accountability partner. You can go through each other’s finances to make sure you are hitting your goals. Having an extra set of eyes can be incredibly useful to not only spot places where expenses can be curbed, but to make sure that what’s on paper matches what you wanted there to be.

2. Pay for everything in cash. This is reminiscent of Dave Ramsey’s cash budget. But if you have an envelope of cash labeled food, and that’s all the fast food and grocery money you have for the month it will be difficult to go over the limit. There’s also something more visceral in giving up cash as opposed to sliding a card that may make you think twice about going through with your purchase.

3. Feel broke to be rich. Try opening a second bank account for your paycheck and bills, then set up a recurring transfer to your main checking account. If you never see the bulk of your money, and if your bank balance looks low every time you open the app to check it may be easier to avoid spending money. This isn’t a mindset that everyone wants to be in, but I’ve found that constantly feeling broke means I am far less likely to spend money on frivolities.

If you have more ideas on how to save money on a daily basis leave a comment below!

#fireblogger #money #money tips #save money #how to save #how to save money #budget #advice #money advice

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yabaina · 4 years

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28/09/20 Hiroko’s cute talk pt.1

This week’s video is the second one in a series of BGM vids (the first being the cicada talk one),which are meant to be used as background noise just to hear Hiromu talking about everything and anything.

I’ve decided to transcribe it in as much detail as I can handle as a challenge, so I’m sorry but this will be quite long and will probably be cut in 2 to 3 parts.

Here are the main things he talked about: body hair, Fortnite, outdoors vs indoors, protein shakes and whether or not he has body goals.

The video starts with Hiromu discussing the success of the cicada talk video with the staff lady (SL) and he says he was surprised by how many people seemed as interested in cicadas as he is. SL tells him that people probably just enjoy hearing about his thought process.

As he’s talking with his hand on his bare leg, he remarks that as a guy he doesn’t have much body hair.

Hiromu: I don’t have much body hair, do I? When I wrestle I usually wear trousers so they’re hidden, seeing my legs is kinda rare isn’t it? Here, look. (that’s when he points his leg at the camera) What do you think? Hey aren’t there a lot of wrestlers who shave/wax?

SL: Is that so?

Hiromu: Wait I said that a bit randomly lol. As I said it i thought “wait, who does?” Aren’t there though? Wrestlers have that image of a smooth, hairless skin right?

SL: I heard that the hair gets rubbed off (?)

H: Aah that, yes for instance when your knees rub against the training mats, the hair does get rubbed off (?), it doesn’t grow anymore. Look my knees are smooth. My fingers too, aren’t there people who grow hair there? I don’t.

SL: I think normally, everyone grows hair there??

H: Ah see, I think I lack male hormones, and I have more feminine hormones.I think that’s why I don’t have much body hair. I don’t know for sure tho.

SL: You could get a genetic test done? (I think she’s wants to try one too)

H: Oh this is interesting. Does it tell you about why your hair grows or not?

SL: It can tell you many things, like what type of food makes you gain weight etc.

H: Aah, that type of thing! How much does it cost though? It sounds expensive.

SL: I wonder, *laughs* it’s probably expensive.

H: I want to try it- Ah but it doesn’t matter, this conversation probably isn’t very interesting.

SL: People might find it interesting to know you have thin body hair.

H: Ah, but when I get told I have thin body hair, I get “ugh” *sighs*.

H: Nowadays, or rather during the quarantine -it was three months wasn’t it- I got really hooked on video games. Do you know about Fortnite?

SL: I’ve heard about it.

H: *explains what Fortnite is* I got super hooked on that game. I was playing constantly it was like I was either training, or watching movies or playing Fortnite.

SL: H- How much time did you spend playing?

H: *laughing* I said that but I played two hours a day at most. When I played too much I’d get dizzy/nauseated. I get game sick lol. Fortnite moves a lot so after an hour I’m like “Ugh I feel nauseated… but I want to play some more”. And then I keep playing but two hours is my maximum. I guess two hours a day isn’t what you call ‘a lot’ huh?

SL: No well, it’s a lot considering you play while feeling sick from it…

H: Haha true. It’s an addictive game. It makes you want to get better at it. AH, I couldn’t wrestle for three months, right? At some point I thought to myself “seriously… If I can’t wrestle, should I try and become a pro gamer?” I looked it up, and saw that in the world championship, the winner gets a 3M$ prize. I was so shocked. I don’t think there’s a pro wrestler in the world who earns 3M$.

H: Anyway there are ranked games (?? I know nothing about fortnite) and I thought, let’s start by winning those, so I went and joined one. It started and I immediately got shot down while I was still in my parachute. I was ranked 99th in a 100 person game.

SL: *trying to laugh silently, failing a little*

H:I went “oi oi oi” and “what happened to the guy who died before me”. I didn’t think I would get first place but I thought the top 10 was feasible. I wondered what my daily two hours were worth. It was a shock. Anyway I never said I’d become a pro gamer after that lol. Even though I had already started thinking about what to buy with 3M$.

SL: What would you buy with that money?

*** I will stop here for the first part bc this post is becoming very long and we’re only 10 minutes in a 30min video. I’ll post the next parts as soon as I can***

#english is not my first language so #sorry for any mistakes #this is so late because I accidentaly DELETED THE ENTIRE POST YESTERDAY #i cried a bit and got back to work when I found the motivation #Hiromu's voice is rly quite soothing tho; so it wasn't all bad :3 #hiromu takahashi #takahashi hiromu #hirochan's yt

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extremelybonkers · 3 years

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What I think about the SMP: PART 2

Wow, we reached that 10 note goal fast. Why do you guys like this garbage content? I don't know, but thanks! So, now we move to part 2!

NOTE: this part is now talking about people more than groups of people. I need more content :)

(Editing Fox here, I meant, I was too lazy to use the rest of the groups on the SMP and thought I'd have more fun writing about characters in general.)

(Editing Editing Fox here. What past me said was I was too lazy to go on google and look something up, but I thought it would be fun to make this. But really, I had a massive headache and wanted to commit die so, I just wrote in my tired state of mind.)

TECHNOBLADE

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE CHARACTER?

I love Techno, C! Techno, and CC! Techno. Both are just monotone murders of the heart. But, more into C! Techno! I do appreciate that when Techno is onscreen, he says something that makes you go "Oh fuck, shit bout to go down". He is so scary and when you see what he does in lore streams, whether it's fighting or poetry, he makes you feel something. (also, I read the whole Sun Tzu: Art of War. Disclaimer: It's long, will give you a headache, and you need to take notes.)

WHAT DO YOU LOVE ABOUT THIS CHARACTER?

I love that Techno is in the morally gray like he will do what he deems right in the situation. For example, he fights alongside Philza and Dream to destroy a country. But then, he starts the Antarctic Empire, which is sorta a monarchy/dictatorship as he tries to get rid of all government opposing him. (I am full of shit so, if I am wrong, please tell me). So, yeah, I like that he is him.

IF YOU WERE TO ASK THIS CHARACTER ANYTHING, WHAT WOULD YOU ASK?

I would most likely ask, "What is the Syndicate planning?". We haven't heard from them in so long, please I will pay for some new Syndicate lore.

QUACKITY

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE CHARACTER?

I love CC! Quackity. He is male wife and he is pretty (not as pretty as Sam, but I digress). Now, I will thoroughly tell you how much I hate his character.

(be warned, I ramble for a bit. you can skip this part if you want)

C! Quackity makes me want to rescue Dream. I hear you saying, "Whitney, he's not that bad, is he? Freeing Dream, come one, Quack's not that bad." But, oh yes, it is.

Now, for content, I was watching Yu-Gi-Oh season 0 (that shit is dark, please make more) and I thought to myself, "Wow, Yami (or Atem, if you're annoying) is really beating these guys up. Like, I get their horrible people, but you literally trapped Kiba in a card and forced him to feel the pain of battling monsters."

I then thought, well that's what Quackity is doing. Dream has already lost and is locked in prison with no chance of parole, no need to torture him.

And, sure, I get Big Q wants the revive book but, is torture the best way to do it? I would literally prefer to say you'll let him out if he gives you the book and when he gives you the book, put him back inside the prison.

I would slap C! Quackity (and give him the more efficient way of getting the book) and hug CC! Quackity.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE ABOUT THIS CHARACTER?

I love how ballsy this guy is. He is like, "Ah yes, I will now torture my husband's former best friend because if he finds out he will totally not be pissed! This is a great idea :]".

He honestly made me laugh when he was torturing Dream. Is this because I am very tolerant to dark jokes? Yes. Do I care what you think, you normie? No.

But, anyway, I love how far he's willing to take things. He tortures people, makes a casino (probably with overpriced food), and eats someone's fucking heart.

I hate this guy, but I love this guy.

IF YOU WERE TO ASK THIS CHARACTER ANYTHING, WHAT WOULD YOU ASK?

I would ask, "Why?". Just, why. Depending on his answer, I will raise/lower the strength of the punting of his face.

Yeah, that's it! Pretty long, huh? Yeeee I've been working on this since 5/10. Well, I'll see you guys next post. Stay fluffy!

DAILY SONG RECOMMENDATION:

#dsmp #dsmpblr #dsmp techno #dsmp quackity #dsmp spoilers #quackity #technoblade #philza #anarachy #why did i even write this #my thoughts

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sohin-ace · 4 years

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Ceasar - Cover

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

You were a trainee of Lisa Lisa. You've lived with her and Suzie Q for as long as you could remember and you got along very well with the girls. But there was something a little bit special about you.

You would always need to cover up your body. No skin besides your face would show, you always had a hood or a veil covering your hair too.

It was really only just because of religious matters, your ideologies and beliefs made you into a modest person. You could only undress in front of other women. Lisa Lisa and Suzie Q completely understood your lifestyle and even supported you.

It was not like it did any harm to you or others, and also, it actually matched your Hamon fighting style perfectly. Discreet, stealthy, anonymous, silent, just like the night. Just like you. Fate worked magnificently like that sometimes.

When your mentor told you you would start training with Ceasar Zeppeli and Joseph Joestar, you were a little bit perplexed at first but then thought that there was no reason to fret.

You never met Ceasar before even if he was already Lisa Lisa's apprentice because you both would always train separatedly. But this time, you would officially meet and see each other on the daily. But it was okay for you.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Turns out that after many weeks of training, you got along very well with the guys. They didn't question you and your clothing much, and when they did, they were actually very understanding, which you appreciated.

That didn't distract any of you from your goal and training sessions, and they actually were impressed by your strength and Hamon technique.

In the end it didn't matter at all. They saw you for you, and so you were comfortable with them, and felt like you belonged with everyone.

But once went the day where the one thing that you hoped would never happen, happened. You could even call it the worst case scenario.

After a long day of training, you decided to go upstairs to change before you could go back down with everyone and have a debriefing. Lisa Lisa accompagnied you to an empty room.

"You should be able to undress here. Suzie Q must have warned the boys not to disturb you."

"Thank you, Lisa Lisa." You responded gratefully.

She then left and closed the door. You were left alone and removed the mask from your face and neck that you used on training days. The moment you slid the shawl out of your hair, somebody entered the dark room.

You didn't notice him and it seems that he didn't either at first, but when he saw you throw the shawl on the bed it clicked in his mind.

That was you. And you were not wearing your shawl anymore. He could see your actual H/C hair in the dark. If you just turned around...

Something inside him told him to go away. That it was wrong. He knew why you were doing all of this and he had to respect that. But he left his drive get the better of him. He would regret that later, but he'll worry about it when the time comes.

He approached you slowly and you finally noticed his presence. You turned around, not looking up at first, thinking it was Lisa lisa who came back.

"Did you need anything else Lis-" When you looked up, your eyes met with the tall blonde staring right back at you.

Ceasar couldn't help but stare. Under the moonlight, your features were so clear to him. The look of your H/L hair framing your face perfectly, your plump red lips, your delicate nose completing your sweet visage in a perfect canvas.

You always looked so mysterious to him, but now it was like uncovering a mystery, opening a treasure chest. Your usually fierce eyes looked so different tonight, there was this innocent purity that needed to be protected in them. That he needed to protect.

You gasped and your eyes widened in panic. You instantly went to reach for your shawl to cover up as fast as you could, but Ceasar was quick to stop you as he grabbed your arms.

His common sense was completely leaving him. He was acting crazy, foolish, wild even.

"Y/N, wait!"

You responded by ducking your head low and bringing your arms in front of you, a desperate attempt to hide.

"C-Ceasar, close your eyes!!!"

"No, wait! You're okay, it's me. I just want to-"

"Turn around, Ceasar, I just need to put my scarf back on!"

"Y/N, please, look at me, just this once!"

"Why are you so- If you keep this on I won't hesitate to hurt you!" You growled, scared and confused at your friend's behavior.

"Y-you... You're so beautiful, Y/N..." Ceasar breathed, softening his grip on you, not even caring if you stunned him with Hamon or slapped him across the face. He was completely under your spell.

"D-don't do this to me, please turn around, I-I..." You sighed in exasperation. "This is wrong, God forgive me-" You slammed your palms under his chin tilting his head back violently and preventing him from staring any further.

He grabbed your wrists in retaliation and pulled them down. You whipped your head to the side to hide your heating face.

When he heard a sob coming from your mouth he realized his actions. For him, there was nothing to fret about, but for you, it was basically the same as being naked in front of him. He was invading a woman's privacy in the worst way. And not just any woman too, his crush.

Realization hit him hard, but before he could even do anything, the door burst open to reveal none other than Joseph.

"Ceasar are you ther-" The brunet cut himself off and was astounded at the scene before him. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DO- HOLY SHIT Y/N'S NOT COVERED!!! DUDE GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!"

Joseph rushed towards the italian man and grabbed him in a head lock to drag him away from you, turning around so their backs were facing you. As if on cue, Suzie Q ran into the room with a long cloak and wrapped it around your form.

"Oh my god! Are you okay Y/N? I'm so sorry! I wanted to warn him but I couldn't find him anywhere! I'm sorry, my baby it's all my fault!!" Your blonde best friend hugged you tightly and pulled you out of the room, out of the guys' sight.

"WERE YOU TRYING TO- DUDE THAT'S DISGUSTING, EVEN FOR ME!" Joseph had a problem with Ceasar being a skirt chaser, but this time it was too much.

"No!!! You're misunderstanding, it's not what it looks like!" The blonde struggled against his grasp.

"You were alone with her, in the dark, and she wasn't dressed to her comfortable level... And you were grabbing her wrists, the hell does that look like??"

"I know it sounds horrible, but I wasn't planning anything, I may be stupid, but I'm not a sick pervert." The brunet clicked his tongue, obviously not convinced. Ceasar had no excuses for his actions.

"Ceasar you freaking dog, do you even know what you did? What the hell were you thinking? That's sexual harassment, Poor Y/N-chan."

"I-I KNOW! I just... Let me go, I'll apologize to her!"

"Ohoh no no no, my guy, she does NOT want to see you right now. You know there's no coming back from what you did?" Ceasar sighed, defeated as Joseph finally released him.

"Yeah, I know that was an asshole move... I'll let her punch me straight to hell in her stead."

"Ppfft In this state, she wouldn't even touch you with a stick. You're litterally the only man who's ever saw her like this. The only way to come back from that is if you marry her!" He gripped the front of Ceasar's shirt, as if to emphasize his point.

"FINE !!!" he snapped, swatting Joseph's hand away. "I was planning to anyways!"

"Good... wait what?"

Later during the evening, he went to look for you, and finally found you in one of the hallways.

"Y/N!" He called out to you and you turned around, ignoring him.

He ran to catch up with you and grabbed your shoulder. "Wait, Y/N, I'm so sorry for my behavior, I really messed up, that was so wrong. Please forgive me." He pleaded, his eyes showing his sincerity.

You glanced away, bringing your hand up to put your mask back over your face, but he stopped you midways.

"Please... At least allow me to look at your face... I know I don't deserve it... But I want to see your beautiful lips when you smile."

You put your hand down and frowned. You didn't know what to tell him. You could forgive him because you fell hard in love with the blonde man, but you could not forget his disappointing and disrespectful behavior.

"One of the reasons I cover up... Is to protect myself from people like you..." There was obvious pain in your voice, knowing you would have to supress your feelings for him.

He softly grabbed your hands, cupping them in his warmth. "Marry me, Y/N!"

You flinched, a strong blush rising to your face. Saying that you were shocked would be the biggest understatement.

"Huh?!"

"I love you and I invaded your intimacy. Marry me so I can make it up to you and take your sins!" You were quite impressed that he even knew that.

Your breath became shallow. "C-Ceasar, you don't have to do this, I forgive yo-"

"I want to! I want to know everything about you, you are so special, so different from all the women that I've met. You are so immaculate, humble, chaste. I was chasing after girls because I didn't know I would ever meet someone like you. I didn't know what I was looking for... And then I met you."

You were completely shaken at the sudden confession and proposal. That was so unreal, you thought you would wake up any second now.

"I... This is so sudden... Ceasar... Let me..."

"I'll let you think about it, I won't rush you this time, I promise. I'll wait for as long as you need. Even if it takes years."

The tall male tenderly brushed his knuckles over your cheek and you smiled shyly. His eyes softened on you.

"It's my first time ever seeing your smile. I'm so blessed... I hope you'll say yes." And just like that, he released you and left.

You'd have to rest for quite some time before you give this incredible man an answer.

Bonus:

"But... She's so beautiful though..." Ceasar muttered as he was leaning back on the couch next to Joseph.

"I know right? If I was her I would cover this much beauty too. Especially around wolves like you." The brunet glared at him and Ceasar made a face before realizing.

"Wait... What do you mean 'I know right'? You already saw her face???"

"Yeah, all the time, why?" Joseph answered as a matter of fact.

"BUT... HOW ???"

"Dude, she only wears that ninja mask for training, it helps her focus on her breathing. She shows her face all the time otherwise."

"WHAT ???" Ceasar was so shocked, his eyes could pop out of their sockets at the revelation.

"LOOOL YOU MEAN YOU NEVER SAW HER WITHOUT HER MASK?" The Joestar laughed obnoxiously "Or maybe! Maybe she keeps that mask when you're here! She's not wrong to be honest." Suzie Q then came into the room holding a laundry basket.

"Oi Suzie Q, isn't that right? Y/N's face is a mystery to nobody, you already saw it?"

"Yeah of course I saw it. I saw what you guys couldn't even dream of seeing." Suzie Q smirked, feeling like she's better than the guys. "I even know where her birthmark is." She giggled.

"WHAT?? WHERE??!!" Ceasar perked up abruptly, suddenly more interested.

"...." Suzie Q paused and her glance shifted. "I uh, probably shouldn't tell you this, but for hints, you can only see it at the honeymoon~" She teased then walked off.

Ceasar blushed heavily at the assumption and ran after her "Wait! Suzie Q!!! What do you mean?! Tell me more!" Joseph shook his head at the dirtiness of his friend.

"Jeez, this guy is too unholy for a girl like Y/N."

This was inspired by the fact that I really, really want to wear the Hijab. (update, by the time I wrote this, I started wearing it)

I hesitated to write this because I was scared to make this come off as blasphemous? It was tricky to write, not gonna lie. And I'll probably delete this in the future.

I was trying to not be exclusive to one religion, many beliefs have their women cover up, I hope I portrayed it well. And I hope you can relate to Y/N somehow in this, even if you don't cover yourself for religious reasons.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #battle tendency #ceasar #ceasar zeppeli #x reader #reader insert #writing #hijabi reader #jojo no kimyou na bouken #part 2 jojo #part 2 #ceasar x reader #ceasar zeppeli x reader

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mindwideopen · 4 years

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I am, a born again giver. I’ve taken for waaaayyy too long. Hoarding, keeping, covetous behavior. Believe me, I’ve done it. But I’ve decided, I have been needy, and a taker. I have kept things, in my house, that I don’t use, that is energy that others could be using, for a long time. I’ve also withheld my love, to people in my relationships. I’m being honest, because it feels better to do it, and because, I’ve decided that it’s time for a change, for the whole of me.

The fact is, I’ve hidden, and withheld, my love from people I love, that I feel I’ve been hurt by. The hurt, is what caused, and causes my behavior in those cases. Ask anyone who knows me. I’m, a jerk. Well, that’s how I feel they feel. And I see that a lot, in my daily life. Jerk... asshole... fuckers... all of them. Well, the fact is, none of them, are that. I saw, what I felt. And that’s how it works. Fear vs. love, is a real thing. All emotions break down to either fear or love, and love, ain’t that.

Deciding to love, is not a job for the weak. Love gets a bad rap sometimes. “I love you”. Pussy... love is for chicks with dicks. You can’t possibly love. You’re a man. You have to be strong, and powerful, and show dominance over all others. Well, I have, and quite frankly, I hate having that kind of a penis.

Love is not a pussy action. It takes balls upon balls, to love. Or, as Betty white says, balls are weak, why not love like a pussy, cause it takes a good pounding. I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist. Love, isn’t the dick move, it’s the best move you can make, and here’s why; love envelopes you, in power. The power of love, moves people to be, who they are. It allows the contrast to fade, and the love out shines all hate, and fear. Fear, is what holds us back from achieving the life we all desire. The lives all look different, cause what floats one of us may not do it for another, but ultimately the very same effect occurs. Happiness.

Happiness is relative, but the result of your feeling good, affects the whole of us all. The people who are happy, are more likely to love others, and treat people with respect and kindness. Seems pretty obvious, but we don’t tend to concentrate on creating that in our lives deliberately sometimes. The deliberate attention to loving ourselves, starts the chain of how the collective consciousness feels and acts, and how we feel and behave towards others, is the result. The fact is, only love, can save us all.

But love, is a lofty goal. It is. Love! Pft! So general. So stupid. Ok, I’ll love. Yeah, right. That will “save the world”. Whatever. Yep. That’s where it starts. With our perception toward love. So let’s try to define it. What is love to you? Maybe love is fast cars and hot women. Maybe love is a badass motorcycle on an empty highway going 88 mph. Or maybe love is a kitten, who cares? The point is, love, is a personal thing. But whatever does it for you, do that more often. Cause it will aid, in how we all treat one another, and feel about ourselves in the process. The 2 go hand in hand, really. The love, we feel, we give, and the love we see, we acknowledge to ourselves, as our own self worth.

Well, now I’m in the soup. Cause my son was trying to talk to me, and I got mad cause I was trying to type this post, and he wanted to talk. A lot. So, the loving thing to do? Whatever you feel, is good. So, are you feeling guilty like I am? If you are, go back and acknowledge your misstep. If not, continue your anger, the rest of the day pointed at him. Or, decide to let it all go, and act normally next time. All of these options, vaiid, but what feels the best? Well, I’m peeing right now as I type, but eventually, I’ll go back and apologize, and be cool with my boy, cause he’s pretty neat, and I dig having an open, and good relationship with him. Please hold, as I wipe, and do that. I’ll let you know how it turns out. Ok, the wiping went as expected, and my son and I, are cool. I apologized. Cause he comes first to me. That’s the way I choose to love, not for anyone else, but myself. Because loving my son, is my top priority, sometimes. And sometimes, all the time, I’m human. And I get aggravated that I’m not where I want to be in my life, and I’m not the best mom, but we try to stay vigilant as humans that are trying their best to be good parents and people to everyone in our lives. It’s a process, and we have our lives, to practice.

Life isn’t always the easiest to navigate. But, that’s a belief I have to overcome. It can be easy, if I think it is. My beliefs, dictate how I feel about things like that, myself, and others. The actions I decide to take are ruled by me. My moods, my emotions, who cut me off on the road, who screwed me over years ago, who talked shit about me and I found out about it. A lot of things in life affect the moods of us all. And when we interact, all is accounted for. “Oh yeah? Well I’m not taking your shit ever again! Fuck off!” “Fine! Oh, and I’ll take back my Pink Floyd album with David gilmour on there, and he’s hot, even though he’s in his mid 70s... whatever!” “Yeah, and give me back my copy of Aerosmith’s pump, cause you and I both know that steven Tyler had sex in an elevator, a lot, the whole band probably has!” “Oh yeah? Well I want my copy of peter Gabriel’s “I love to be loved” back, cause I do, and I don’t love you!” “Great, and ll take back my Nazareth’s love hurts, cause it fuckin does!” “Well, the indigo girls write about that love shit all the time, so it’s all mine now!” “Whatever, rem says “I am the everything” so I am, and “everybody hurts” so you can suck it, cause you hurt me! Asshole...” “Uh huh, right! I’m over this shit! So I’m gonna take back all of “the cure” on out of here, by deleting your ass, that is big, like sir mix a lots big butt song! I’m out!” (Other person sticks tongue out) scene.

Why am I an asshole, to myself? Why do I choose my “right tight assness” over loving someone and getting over my own shit? Cause of hurt. Cause of pain, cause of not being heard or appreciated for being myself. Well, all that is also valid, but who is in charge of how I feel? No one, but me. So how do I stop myself from being insulted by everyone’s ass behavior? By changing my perception of it. Well, I can’t. Cause it hurt, and really pissed me off. So wait a minute... I’m in charge of that shit! Right, so now what? Well, I decide to focus on something else for a bit, until I feel a little better. Yeah, but I still am thinking about that ass move! What a douche! Right, I’m right back to where I started. Thinking about the ass. So, now what? Well, be accepting in the moment. “Fuck them! Yeah! Jerks...” how is that energy working for you? Not at all. Right. Focus, is everything.

Is it easy at first? Fuck no! It’s terrible! It hurts and I’m mad and I hate and it’s everyone’s fault and they are all against me, and they’re happy and I’m not and the world isn’t fair and the gas prices are high and the taxes are too and I’m gonna get high or drink to numb and make myself balance out a bit. THAT’S how it starts. And that’s not where it ends. It ends, with everyone, losing their g. d. minds with misery and upset.

We are all interconnected. There is not one person, that isn’t in some way connected to another. Even the hermit in the forest by themselves, is connected to nature, which is connected to themselves, and everyone else. Our shared humanity, is what brings us together, whether we like it, or not. So why not become one? Because fear, rocks that boat, and HARD!

I’m not like them! They have NO F’N CLUE what I’ve been through, or the experiences I’ve had, or the love I’ve been denied! They’re this, or that, or not into what I’m into, or a different race, or gender, or socioeconomic class, or whatever, just NOT like me, so they can’t say SHIT! Yes, well, do you like pumpkin spice lattes? Wtf?! Pumpkin spice lattes? I’m talking to you about your uneducated ass talking to me about me, ok? And now you’re talking about pumpkin spice lattes. You’re stupid! Yes, I am, but do you like them? I don’t know... the hell with this conversation... ok. Well, if you do, here’s a Starbucks gift card for one. Maybe we can discuss how you feel over one. Um, no, cause you’ll never get me. I’m too different from you. Got it. Then which latte do you like, cause there’s a lot to choose from..

There’s a commonality between people that were missing in society today. Similarities run rampant around the world, but we seem to blow right past it sometimes, without a bat of an eyelash. The similarity, is love. We all need it. We all crave it; understanding, care, compassion, empathy. But do we give it freely? And do we give it, to ourselves?

Here’s how I give love to myself the best I can, and mind you, I’m no expert. Just sharing some observations here. I mean, I’m not educated. I’m still technically in my junior year of college. I only have an associates degree in liberal arts, not psychology. I’m not a very good example of what you would call, “a success” or even employed. So what do I know? THAT, is what I used to say to myself, in my head, a lot. Now, my internal monologue, all be it not perfect, is different. It’s, “hey Kari. Let’s do our best to love today. Oh shit, all I see that I’m getting from people is more hate. Ok, recognized and reconsidered. I don’t have to stay in this place in my mind, seeing all that hate. What can I do to jar myself out of it, and perceive more positively? Think the next best thought I can believe, fully. Ok, what’s that? How about, I’m a good person who does her best? I mean, it’s true. I try. Yes, cool. What can you do to take care of you today? Deodorant! Yes! How about a shower? Better! Ok.” and so on and so forth.

Love, is not always a grand gesture. And it’s a word we throw away often. Love is the small things we do, to get to the bigger things. That’s how energy works. Incrementally. We can’t go and sustain a surge of energy. I’m better! I’m healed! From feeling like shit? Really? Yes! All better! I’ll never feel that way again, Thank fuck, cause that way was ass! I mean, I was feeling like ass, but now, I’m better, cause those people are douches, and I’m not, so I feel better cause they’re out, and I’m alone without they’re energy... um, yeah. Well, I was feeling good until I triggered myself back with the thoughts of how they were douches, and mad... yes, im back in ass gulch again in my head. And I’ve been stuck in this line with the mask on at the Trader Joe’s now, (a store I usually love with a shit ton of friendly good people both working and shopping there but I can’t see that perception today, cause I’m mad, and I feel like shit) for way too long! We see, what we want to see. We experience, what we expect and believe. That’s the truth. Whether it’s true or not is irrelevant. The choices we make on how to feel about things, are. The choice to think the thoughts we think, about everything, every day is life.

Life is not all easy n shit. My belief. It’s hard to get money. Another belief. My cat pissed on my face this morning, so my life is over, not a belief I hold, as I don’t have a cat, cause allergic. But I do know, that I can piss on myself with my thoughts, and have the same effect. Affect, effect? The same in this case. What affects us, is the effects of us all.

Being human, just is. What we make of our collective human experience and how we treat others? Our choice completely. Decisions are based on our beliefs, and our beliefs are based on either love or fear. I have to go now, as my son is hungry. But I’ll leave you with this; I love you. I stand with you in love. Choose hate, which is fear, and I won’t. My son is listening to the song, “stand by me”. My promise to you is that I will stand by you, in love, if I decide to. Love is an emotion that I’m still working on too. I fall in and out of it. But the choice, is always to hop back on the love train, cause it’s taking me places I want to go. To happyville. ❤️

#lawofattraction #love #lovematters #loveyourself #choose love #loveis #lovecore #self love #self esteem #selfworth #self reflection #selfleadership #selfawareness #self healing #mind wide open #kari keillor

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rabbitindisguise · 4 years

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oh my GOD what the FUCK

Carry On was so fucking good

SPOILERS

the bit about the dancing as fighting and then mutual surrender? how baz just flat out says “I’m hopelessly in love” and just smacks you with it at the end of a chapter? I had to stop. I had to BREATH DEEPLY because WHAT THE FUUUUCK. Simons just out there with a whole set of wings. I mean, goals, and I know there’s follow up books, but hooooly fuuuuck. And magic working like language! Wait no I don’t really give a shit about that even though it’s cool. VAMPIRES. The fucking truce. The mage was his dad? LUCY WAS HIS MOM? SIMON WILL NEVER DOES NOT CURRENTLY KNOW WHO HIS DAD IS? “LUCY GOT OUT,” BUT SHE’S BIG DEAD??? BAZ DOES A MAGIC THING WHERE HE HAS TO BE IN LOVE FOR IT TO WORK? I’M???

I feel ready to throw a book but like, in the most aggressively delighted way possible. Baz was also really fucking funny as a character. I’m pissed I can’t reasonably stay up for the second one. Christ. Simon going back to Baz’s house. Simon just booking it Baz’s house without even thinking. Sleeping on Baz’s couch. Simon!!! KISSING. BAZ. BAZ WHO HAD A CRUSH ON HIM. BAZ WHO HAD A CRUSH ON HIM A LONG TIME. BAZ WHO WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM A LONG TIME. THAT BAZ. God, I can’t even imagine. I love pining but it usually resolves with the pining character making the move- if this becomes more common I’ll just die I can’t handle it. I need to slip this shit into my writing. Feel like such an ass for not even rewarding myself with the height of unrealistic daydreams, MUTUAL AFFECTION. The way Baz talks about Simon in the books is just absolutely disgustingly dripping with affection. I was actually kind of appalled. Zero restraint! Absolutely none! “I’d kill HEAD MAGE for SIMON but not my whole family and anyone else in the universe or even myself.” TEARING OFF THE CROSS WITH HIS BARE HANDS. Showing him his FANGS. MORE THAN ONCE. EATING IN FRONT OF HIM. This book makes me feral. I can’t stand it. Every instance of being confused if he wants to punch Simon or kiss him. Every fight they get into AFTER they’re ALREADY TOGETHER. HOW THEY KEEP FLIRTING EVEN AFTER THAT. Deciding not to live together full well knowing they’ll be spending their time together anyway. THE LACK OF LOVE CONFESSION YET THEY JUST KEEP CASUALLY SAYING IT. I wouldn’t be surprised if the institution of marriage itself rolled up like “sorry boys, I’m afraid you’re lawfully wed. File your taxes.”

I also feel like I just had the emotional rollercoster equivalent of when you first find out adults sometimes are stupid but also thank christ because the mage was a fucking disaster and I don’t want him to be right about anything. BAZ. Anyway.

I’m gently vibrating with love.

I picked up fairly early on that the mage was his dad and that junk but I was still like “NO no- no? No, no” because I SIMPLY didn’t want that. I kept flipping through chapters with big reveals with such dawning horror it was like watching a crash in slow motion. The plotting was so SMOOTH. THE HUMDRUM. I CAN TALK A LONG TIME ABOUT MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE HUMDRUM. “Sometimes a hole just wants to be filled” HUH BAZ HUH YOU WOULDN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT WANTING SOMETHING YOU CAN’T HAVE JUST LIKE YOUR BOYFRIEND. Your BOY FRIEND OF THE ROMANTIC NATURE?? SIMON??? SIMON SNOW???

(like I said: feral)

Simon Snow who was also like “obviously my ex girlfriend wants to date him, I want to date him, I mean except he’s a vampire” and then when he finds out he’s actually is a vampire is like “oh cool” and tries to convince his boyfrIEND to love himself at every available opportunity

what am I even supposed to do now. I don’t even have a book hangover I’m just razzed. I don’t even know if that’s a word. Tumblr really undersold this book to me. I was expecting to grit my teeth through it, but I mean. It’s not my favorite thing in the universe, I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s perfectly itself in every way?? Like a really well stylized anime from the early 2010′s? It takes up its own space, it murdered me twelve times, and I’m not even mad, there’s nothing I feel dissatisfied with. Sometimes a book siphons energy out of a person but I feel like I just lip locked with a live battery for a couple hours, and not in the inspiration sense- however I definitely want to get back to my fic and drag that fucker out even longer because the primal urge for Pining Resolutions has be stated. For now. It’s still nuts to me that they got together. Nothing bad happened! Like, okay, his dad’s a homophobe. No one had any panic attacks about it though. It was weirdly refreshing considering that’s usually my favorite part. But GOD. THE CERTAINTY. HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH SIMON SNOW. That’s. That’s fucking narrative poetry. But there was no conflict BETWEEN THEM. I mean, obviously, there was conflict, and they didn’t just smoothly transition from one thing to another, but like. HOPELESSLY IN LOVE. Meanwhile Simon in the background: IDK seemed like a good idea to kiss him? He’s only my enemy and a vampire and whatnot? I’ve never actually fallen in love slowly so I don’t know if it was an accurate depiction, but it was cute as fuck and I guess that’s all that matters.

SIMON GAVE UP HIS MAGIC FOR HIS BOYFRIEND (and the world) (that his boyfriend lives in) (I’m also stealing this linguistic quirk from the author because I fucking can and no one can stop me)

*squees into hands* I need to end this. I guess I’m following blogs. If you know of anything that regularly posts about the series, please, put me out of my misery. I need content. Simon and Baz Say Stupid Shit Daily quote spam or something. I don’t even know. I do know that, probably, this tops the list. It’s not naruto, but it’s some of the best canon I’ve ever fooled around in. The only thing I was thinking of ficcing was Simon actually staying over for the holidays and then! he fucking did that sO I guess my fic writing ass needs to finish my fic in other waters. This book is like . . . an important gay milestone or something. It has everything I want, and nothing I don’t. It even ace reads really well, which makes my heart hurt. God. Anyway. Good fucking night people of various genders. I need to like, chill. Deep breaths lavender. Don’t die flipping out about wizards and vampires.

#personal #carry on by rainbow rowell #caps

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yogpetshame · 5 years

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Regarding your notes about parasocial etc: I've been watching the yogs and others for over a decade now. How would one would wean oneself from this affliction? How can I stop obsessively watching the channels daily?

Let’s play a little armchair psycholo.. psychiatrist? I don’t know the difference which is why I don’t get paid to do this.

First: your problems are probably not that severe. I want to start this from a realistic perspective. YouTube is, to some, the new TV, and watching videos every day is not by nature unhealthy.

Some signs that your YouTube habit is unhealthy:

When you fall behind on YouTube videos, you’re not just disappointed - you’re mad. Irritable. Anxious. You even feel guilty.

Watching videos has reduced your interest in other hobbies. Video games don’t count as a hobby here, I mean you’ve passed on going out, seeing people, cleaning, cooking, because you were on a binge.

You rely on the videos to ease your anxiety or guilt. If you have a bad day, you feel you must watch. It’s your painkiller.

If someone comes between you and the Yogs - if Ted tells you he doesn’t like the videos, or that Rooster Teeth is better, or that you should stop watching because he doesn’t agree with the Yogscast’s morals - and it’s enough to endanger your entire relationship with that person.

If you recognize yourself in these, yeah, you should definitely knock it off.

If you just want to stop even though you’re not exactly addicted, that’s still great, you run your life. It’s just important to put it out there that some people may have problem and there is an objective way to tell.

Anyway, on to your actual question: weaning yourself.

I’ve (this shouldn’t be a surprise) dipped in and out of this issue myself with a lot of different channels over time. I’ve never been too far gone but I’ve occasionally looked at my interest in a channel and thought “this gives me no joy, and yet I come back every day for more. Why?”

I don’t exactly have a set of steps for how I’ve broken off from a channel, but here’s some things in a random order that’ve helped before:

Break the habit… for three days.

The goal here, fundamentally, is to stop watching the Yogscast for a period of time. In your case, forever, but let’s start with a chunk of time. I’m not saying that step one is “if you want to stop watching the Yogscast, stop watching them,” but if you have something to hand already that would fill the hole for a few days, try that first. Pick up Outer Worlds. Begin your detox the day you leave on a vacation. Initiate a break in the habit and then continue to reinforce the broken habit as you go along.

Get Hooked on Something Else

This one’s… kind of stupid. And obvious. But if you start watching some other YouTuber whose content is really fresh and engaging, and they have a big backlog, it’s easier than may you think to just start watching them instead and let your older subscriptions gather dust.

It helps if the category of video is also wildly different to what you’re used to watching. If you’re watching the Yogscast, and you just move to watching Rooster Teeth play the same games the Yogscast plays, you’re just going to compare them to the Yogscast and want to go back. The joy of discovering a totally new person and a totally different hobby will disengage you from their whole orbit.

I did this once with the late StobetheHobo. He was a train-hopper who filmed himself traveling illegally on freight trains. Watching a strange man who uses terms you don’t understand doing something you know nothing about is really, really, really refreshing. What’s a “bull”? Why are we in Montana? Where are these piano covers coming from? Not comparable at all to the Yogscast, and will hook you with the mystery.

Kitboga is another good option. Especially because, like Stobe, you likely know nothing about what he does. You will never have seen the Yogscast make a video where they connect a virtual machine with a tech support scammer and analyze the things they do to brick the fake computer. Plus his sense of humor is pretty similar to theirs, and he’s very deliberate about putting on a good show.

There’s also just Netflix. Or real TV. If you get caught up on something you’ve been passing up for the Yogscast during the times you normally watch them, you can avoid them for a while.

Build up a backlog

If you can muster a couple days deliberately not watching the Yogscast, and a couple more days distracting yourself with something, you’re going to build up a major backlog in no time at all. If you subscribe to just two different Yogscast members, you could have as much as five hours of backlog after passing them up for just a week. If you try to catch up over the next few days, you’ll be pushing the ball uphill as more content keeps coming out.

This has a cascading impact. Suddenly memes on the Reddit don’t make sense. Why read the posts there if you don’t know what people are talking about?

Why spend time looking at Yogscast stuff if you’re so behind? You need to catch up or else you won’t get it.

When are you going to make time to catch up? You’re still four hours behind. Oh, you were really busy today huh? Now you’re back to being five hours behind. Oh no, now it’s seven. Twelve hours. Twenty hours.

Finally, you break. Fuck those videos. Let’s skip ahead. What came out today?

Oh. Now the videos themselves aren’t funny because you’re so far behind on the references.

Congratulations. You’ve made it harder to get back in than it is to get out.

#Anonymous #parasocial relationships

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the-strikingzebra · 6 years

Text

Effie x Male Corrin support rewrite

This was commissioned by @crispytp who wanted a rewrite of Corrin and Effie’s support chain! The support chain is under the read more.

C Support

BOOM!!!

Corrin: “Huh? What was that loud noise? It sounded almost like an explosion.”

Effie: “HIYA!!! NNGRAAH!”

Corrin: “Effie? Is that you that’s making all the ruckus? What are you even doing?”

Effie: “Huh? Oh hey Corrin. I’m just doing my daily exercises.”

Corrin: “By, destroy boulders? With your bare hands?”

Effie: “Yep. I have to be as strong as possible.”

Corrin: “I’m impressed! Destroying boulders like that is certainly no easy feat. Out of everyone, I think you may be the strongest person in this army. Maybe even stronger than Xander.”

Effie: “Heh thank you Corrin. I’m making it my goal to be as strong as possible to protect Lady Elise. After everything she’s done for me, it’s the best way for me to pay her back.”

Corrin: “Pay her back? Pray tell, what did she do to earn your devotion?”

Effie: “Well I grew up in extreme poverty. My parents were gravely sick, and I had to make a living selling flowers that I used to find on the field. It didn’t do much, but every little bit helped. One day, while looking for flowers, I encountered Lady Elise, who was picking flowers as well, however at the time I had no idea it was her. She struck up a conversation with me and the two of us became close friends. We would often run around the streets, playing tag and having fun as children do. One day however, some Nohrian guards started to harass us. I pushed one of them away, telling them to leave us alone. This only angered them, as they drew their weapons on us. Lady Elise was forced to reveal herself and demanded the guards to leave me alone. After that day, I never saw Lady Elise again. So, I decided that I would join the royal guard, just so I can get to be with her again. And now, I’m her retainer.”

Corrin: “Wow Effie, I had no idea that you lived in poverty, but Elise must have made your childhood much better, right?”

Effie: “She did. She’s the beacon of light in this dark country.”

Corrin: “I agree. Whenever Elise would visit me while I was growing up, I was always so excited to see her, knowing that my day was going to be filled with fun and games! She, as well as the rest of my siblings, helped me forget my dark and lonely day. She was the bright light of my dark childhood. I want to protect her the best I can.”

Effie: “Then let us protect Lady Elise together. We’ll make sure that no harm befalls her.”

Corrin: “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Effie and Corrin have achieved C Support.

B Support

Corrin: “Hey Effie!

Effie: *Munch Munch*

Corrin: “Umm good job on that last battle!”

Effie: “Mmph?” *gulp* “Oh hey Corrin, you’re just in time for my post workout snack!”

Corrin: “T-that’s a snack?! That’s a whole meal for twelve people!”

Effie: “Well I gotta get all my energy back somehow. My muscles can’t grow without an empty stomach.”

Corrin: “Well… I suppose that’s true… Anyways as I was saying, good job on the last battle!”

Effie: “Thanks, you did quite well yourself.”

Corrin: “Yeah, I’m still in shock at how well you took that huge blow meant for me. That strike would have cleaved me in half, yet you shrugged it off like it was nothing but a mere pebble!”

Effie: “Oh that was nothing, I’ve tanked bigger blows.”

Corrin: “Whoa really? That’s impressive in of itself, but the way you sent the enemy flying with one hit, I’m still speechless about that. It was certainly a sight to behold.”

Effie: “Thanks Corrin, but you were pretty good yourself. Your fast-paced movements allowed you to protect Lady Elise from an incoming attack, and then me from a spell caster. It was like I was seeing you in two places at once.”

Corrin: “Haha why thank you Effie. Xander made it his focus for me to be as fast as possible, so that I can one day best him.”

Effie: “That sounds awesome! Being able to learn under the high prince of Nohr must give you great benefits.”

Corrin: “It does, especially when he’s your brother.”

Effie: “Hey I was wondering; do you think you can help me improve in the speed department? I want to be able to move fast enough so that I can protect Lady Elise from everything, no matter how far I am from her in the field of battle.”

Corrin: “Hmmm, I don’t see why not, as long as you promise to help me in my strength training. I want to be strong enough, so I can be able to take down the enemies that threaten my friends and family.”

Effie: “I can definitely help you with that. I can’t wait to get started. Are you ready to learn now actually?”

Corrin: “I’m always ready to learn!”

Effie: “Great, now…”

Corrin: “E-Effie?! W-why are you reaching into your armor?!”

Effie: “To get you something you need for training. Here we are, put these rocks in your armor and run ten laps around the camp. Then continue wearing them for the rest of training.”

Corrin: “R-rocks?! How will these help?”

Effie: “They’ll help you build your strength, now get to it and run!”

Corrin: “Y-yes ma’am!”

Corrin and Effie have achieved B Support.

A-Support.

Effie: Corrin. I need to talk to you.

Corrin: Ah of course Effie! What is it?

Effie: What the hell were you doing in that last battle?!

Corrin: Gah! W-what do you mean? A-and why are you yelling?

Effie: You took a hit that was meant for me. I would have been perfectly fine and continued the fight without a care in the world. I was really worried that you would have gotten seriously hurt or even worse.

Corrin: Oh that…

Effie: You didn’t need to do that Corrin, I’m just… glad that you’re ok.

Corrin: It’s no thanks to your strength training Effie. While it is a tad insane, I actually felt great improvement in my strength and resilience! I barely felt a thing from that attack.

Effie: Huh, well I guess that’s fair.

Corrin: Mhm, though you did leave Elise unprotected to cut off the enemy that was rushing at me.

Effie: Wait, you saw that?! That was in a moment’s notice, not even Lady Elise noticed that I was gone!

Corrin: Well you tend to notice these things if you’re a strategist. But you moved so fast that you completely blindsided the enemy. They never knew what was coming.

Effie: Well it’s thanks to your dexterity training that I was able to move so fast. I was able to take down the foe rushing you and return to Lady Elise’s side in what felt like mere seconds.

Corrin: Pfft ahahaha!

Effie: Eh? What’s so funny?

Corrin: Ahaha, I’m sorry, it’s nothing. It’s just that we both have grown a lot since we started doing each other’s training, and here we are, showing concern to each other for the others improvements to their strength.

Effie: Ahaha, I suppose you’re right. We have greatly improved upon our weak spots. I feel that we’re able to accomplish more on the battlefield and not just carry the burden of our jobs on ourselves anymore.

Corrin: Yeah, we have each other now to watch the other’s back, as well as Elise. With us together, I’m certain that no harm shall ever befall to Elise.

Effie: You got that right. Elise will be able to sleep comfortably at night knowing that she will be protected from any and all harm.

Corrin: Well, I’m pretty sure that Elise sleeps comfortably already, but I see your point. Let us continue to train together and build our strength to protect Elise.

Effie: You got yourself a deal pal.

Effie and Corrin have reached A-Support.

S-Support

Effie: Corrin, may I talk to you for a moment?

Corrin: Of course! Is everything alright?

Effie: Well as you know, I’m Lady Elise’s retainer, so my main focus should be to protect her on the battlefield.

Corrin: If you’re worried that you’re not doing a good job about that, then there’s no need to worry. You’re doing an amazing job!

Effie: Thank you Corrin, but that’s not what I was going to say. Lately, my thoughts have been about you and wanting to protect you Corrin.

Corrin: Effie?

Effie: I’m worried about you when you’re on the battlefield, and I want to protect you. During training, I want to become stronger for you so I can continue to protect you as well as Lady Elise.

Corrin: Oh Effie…

Effie: Now I’m worried because of this, I can’t protect Lady Elise to the best of my abilities. I’m unfit to be her retainer now…

Corrin: Effie, there’s no need to think like that. You’re an excellent retainer for Elise. You can protect both me and Elise at the same time with this simple solution that I came up with.

Effie: Oh? Well let’s hear it.

Corrin: Will you marry me Effie?

Effie: W-what?!

Corrin: After training with you, I’ve found myself wanting to be able to protect you too, I want to fight alongside you. Only then did I realize my true feelings for you Effie. I love you, with all my heart.

Effie: Corrin… I love you too, but we can’t do be together. I’m a commoner busy protecting Lady Elise and you’re a Nohrian Prince, you have a bunch of royal duties that you have to attend to.

Corrin: The “royal duties” that I do have I have Leo do, after all he loves all that political stuff. Plus, if we’re to get married, you and Elise would be sisters-in-laws, allowing you two to spend more time together.

Effie: Well… that does sound nice, but first I want you to hug me with all your strength while I do the same.

Corrin: Of course Effie, though may I ask why?

Effie: I swore to myself that I would wed a man who could match my strength ever since I started training. Plus I want to see the fruits of your training.

Corrin: Oh… well, I can certainly try my best.

Effie: Alright, on a count of three, we will give each other the tightest bear hug imaginable. 1, 2, 3! AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!

Corrin: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

Effie: Whew… I’m surprised you actually survived that hug, I even felt a bit of discomfort from the hug too. You certainly are strong.

Corrin: Thanks Effie… *pant pant* but I’m no where as near as strong as you are… Your strength is one of the things I admire most about you as well as how you’re not afraid to speak your mind.

Effie: Thank you Corrin, it means a lot to me to hear you say that even though it is true that I am stronger than you. I love your huge heart though. How you want to protect Lady Elise, your siblings, and all your friends, no matter the cost. It’s what I love the most about you.

Corrin: Thank you Effie, I’m blessed to have you as my wife.

Effie: As am I to have you as my husband.

Effie and Corrin reached S-Support.

#Fire Emblem Fates #Fire Emblem #Corrin #Corrin (male)#Male!Corrin #Effie #effie (fire emblem)#Corrin x Effie #Support rewrite #commission #writing commissions #fanfiction

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alcoholichatrack · 6 years

Text

06/19 (a fic for dazai's bd)

pardon the mistake i make in this, its really unplanned since i have work so yea...maybe crappy? i dont have an ao3 account so i will post it on my tumblr...my first ever completed fanfic...here we go~

06/19

a Dazai’s birthday fic

I have always wonder why am i born on such melancholy season, a summer that rain nearly everyday. However rain is an important essence to hydrangeas blooming.

Colors of blue, purple,pink,white are base off the different PH level in the water that they are shower with daily.

Rainy seasons are often describe as gloomy and moody for majority people especially kids or those who have an outdoor activities planned.Not everyone despise or hate the rain,like me,it's nice to have cooling rain drops on your skin and its a free bath! Wellll what i don't understand is this word called “Birthday”, yea it is certainly meaning the day you are born but what is it to celebrate such day when my only wish is to stop existing? I do hate this word and dreaded for this day to arrive therefore i did not mention or give an answer to the date and month of my birth.

Joining the Armed Detective Agency does change my perspective of every single little thing be it happy or sad also how people express their emotions...not the whole world is filled with harsh,cruel people or choice… i guess they have gave me what a family suppose to feel...warm and kindness...smiles that have no hidden objectives to it.

Its June 19th today.I do have plans of attempting another suicide later at the end of day… I do also expect that the members of ADA to throw a party of me turning a year older hoping to surprise me. Stopping in front of this door with a bronze plated name that i always open without hesitation or even to take a second look at it, it is the door that brought what Odasaku wants me to do, the ability to be in the light saving and helping people instead of shooting them down coldly. Family huh…

Steeling my nerves,putting on my best smile as i open the door into the bright noisy party as they shouts “Happy Birthday” in chorus. Balloons that decorated the office, a big rainbow cakes and lots of food, cheerful cheeky smile with all the amount of effort just to surprise me. I am honestly surprise as the scenes unfold before me… Atsushi-kun broke my inner thoughts by putting a cone-shaped hat crowning me as the birthday boy of the day and Fukuzawa gave a short speech of thanks for my years of commitment before everyone sings the Birthday song for me, even Kunikida sings along with with a reluctant look that makes it the most entertaining thing of the party. Slices of cake being pass around after i make a wish(as they insists about) and blowing off the candle. I got questioned by nearly everyone about what wish did i make while receiving gifts of different shapes and size wrapped in colorful papers.

In the amidst of joyous noise, a chime followed by brief vibration came from my pocket as i went ahead to check my phone. Grinning, as i expect to receive a mail with a single sentences of :”You know where and what time to meet later.” Snapping my phone shut as the crowd around found a new question due to my facial expression that gave it away, persistently questioning me who is the sender and what is in the mail yet all i reply with is a smile, giving no solid answer.

Time passes fast as the day is reaching its end without any major incident while everyone bids goodbye and goes off once it hits 6pm.Like wise, i packed up all the presents, deciding to drop them off at home first before the rain can soak them wet. While setting off to my final destination of the day, it starts to drizzle lazily before turning into a full blown bone soaking storm.Even with the sudden progression of weather i still stroll towards the train station without hurry. It's a short train ride to the stops where Chuuya stays and a few minute walk to the place his apartment is located at. It's a average neighborhood with some tall apartment here and there while traditional house scatters around too. While passing by one that have two storey and very old looking yet charming traditional house, the garden is in full bloom of hydrangea stops me on track due to one thing, the amount of different color hydrangea makes me curious of how it happens even while they grew from the same soil? Without noticing, i took a step into this random property and find a small plastic transparent box at its doorstep, taking a close look, it is filled with assorted color of hydrangea. That is strange...it is as if whoever stays here knows my birthday… looking around the garden and veranda checking if there is anyone around yet i did not find anything suspicious. I decided to take this beautiful box of hydrangea along with me since it is inappropriate to not accept a gift, meanwhile, i did not realise that the rain have stop as i lost in small thoughts of finding whoever owns that property.

Once i reach the apartment building, i sent a quick mail to Chuuya in case he needs more time to prepare my surprise~

Stopping outside his slightly ajar door as if he have been waiting for me for quite a while, pushing open the door as what unravels in front of my vision impress me greatly...a small cake sat on a western garden style table in the middle with two matching chair and freshly blew green tea arrange beside it. The red hair man dress in nearly as red kimono stoods trimming the roll of hydrangea on his balcony that however, blooms purple and blue. Not that i am disappointed,Chuuya did not turn around while he speaks to me, “Lock the door and sit down, Osamu.” It is rare for him to use my name… Smiling as i settle down and whines, ”Ahhh Chuuya~ My clothes is damp~ Will you get me some dry clothes to change? My bandage too~” This trick always works on him, as he turns around and give me glares with an annoyed expression, he threw me a warm towel that is on his couch as if ready for me, even though he have a foul mouth and bad temper...he still cares for me… Chuuya finally joins me as he sat down laying those small balls of hydrangea on the table while he lits the only candle on it. “Make a wish,you idiot” he says in a soft tone, something that is rare too, that tone. I did as he says, closing my eyes focusing on something while it did not takes long as a warm sensation presses onto my lips,opening my eyes just in time to see Chuuya’s beautiful feature in close range, long eyelashes and fair complexion.It did not take long before he realise my stare while blushing trying not to meet my graze,like a shy maiden in love,chuckling at his embarrassment.

He rudely brokes the romantic atmosphere by blowing off the candle complaining how hungry he is and when ahead to cut the cake. Not a fancy dinner in restaurant or a noisy party either as we both ate in silence like how it was last time...when we celebrates each others birthday even while others don't remember. Now, each of us have people who cares so spending such quiet time for just two is difficult and rare.Looking up at my companion who stops eating and starts grazing at me, i give my best idiotic shit eating grin as he quickly react with a disgusted face, “Chuuya~ You did not wish me Happy birthday yet~ It won't be a perfect birthday without your wishing you know that?~”rolling all this sweetly out of my mouth as he makes a small “hrmp” sound before mumbling it. “Happy Birthday, Osamu…” while looking away again as i laugh this time,”Thank you, Chuuya” sincerely thanking him without a hint of playfulness nor sarcasm,i continued “Thank you for being here all the time…” slowly i look down, without warning, he stood up suddenly and hug me. I… buried my faces in his soft curls of red hair while he gently pats my back as if comforting a over stressed child who lost its way or goal…

We stayed there for a while as if time have frozen,as i suggested sitting on the couch since it looks uncomfortable for our petite size hatrack( he did not wear hat ever since the time i steps in?!). After much struggle, i manage to lie on his lap as fatigue took over me, i fell asleep,strange peaceful sleep surrounded by hydrangea and Chuuya who stands out from all the blues and purples....I wish desperately that morning won't arrive, even if it do, please let him stay with me...forever....

Chuuya continues patting Dazai without a complain while slowly falling asleep....

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Its raining, warm summer rain that falls on my cheek feels like i am the one crying, yet i am not alone, a deep blue umbrella tilt towards me as i turn around, “You will catch a cold idiot, have those bandage finally rot your ability to think? You know...you reminds me of those hydrangea…”Chuuya pointed to those blue hydrangea in the park “Blooming in a specific season, fragile yet brilliant...right?” I silently nod, “That is why i grew them, since it reminds me of you, Osamu.” Chuuya’s voice fades away as i dive deeper into sleep....

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

I woke up to bright sunlight that shines on my face cruelly to find that Chuuya is gone,leaping up in panic to find him in the kitchen cooking breakfast like a housewife, smiling at how he ties his hair gently and his flowery scent from the soap he always use. Quietly, i approach and hugs him as he yelps in surprise chiding me at my childish move. Laughing like this makes me forget how much evils i have done yet at the same time, the good things i done will over weights evil one day,redemption? Maybe...

dont kill me plz...thanks alot for reading *laughs nervously*

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x chuuya #19\06 #hbd dazai #fluff fic #im tired

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erhiem · 3 years

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Feather muthaland, Bibimutha’s songs play as if she is rebuilding her confidence in real time.

Photo Illustration by Renee Klahr, Aamna Ijaz/NPR; Courtesy of Muthaboard

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Photo Illustration by Renee Klahr, Aamna Ijaz/NPR; Courtesy of Muthaboard

Feather muthaland, Bibimutha’s songs play as if she is rebuilding her confidence in real time.

Photo Illustration by Renee Klahr, Aamna Ijaz/NPR; Courtesy of Muthaboard

NPR Music Turning the Tables A project envisioned to challenge sexist and exclusionary conversations about musical greatness. So far we’ve focused on reversing traditional, patriarchal best-of-lists and popular music history. But this time, it’s personal. For 2021, we’re digging into our own relationships to record the records we love, asking: How do we know as listeners when a piece of music is important to us? How can we break free from institutional pressures on our tastes in keeping with the lessons of history? What exactly does it mean to create a personal canon? Essays in this series will explore our unique relationship with our favorite albums, from unmatched classics by major stars to sub-cultural gamechangers and personal revelations. Because the way some music holds a central place in our lives is not just a reflection of how we develop our tastes, but of how we approach the world.

In April, two days after my partner got his second COVID-19 vaccination dose, a friend sent us an invitation to celebrate his birthday at a bar. “I’m not sure,” I said, citing CDC guidelines to wait at least two weeks before socializing. But I had another idea. While some dreamed of nail salon appointments as a return to normalcy, and others fled to Airbnbs on the outskirts, I suggested making a noise on the phone once again with the crew, three Geminis and Taurus.

Our first time together was in 2019, which we regarded as a rite of passage, playing Kendrick Lamar good kid, maed city (an epic, if not prestige update for the specific soundtrack) as our visions began to blur. More than anything, I noticed how the psychedelic influences calmed the ticking urgency I felt on a daily basis in order to make productive use of my time. That kind of urgency became too much to bear last year: With the world still in a pandemic holding pattern, I was also eyeing my 35th birthday in June, and I needed to answer questions from family incessantly. Didn’t feel closer – to where my career was headed, or whether I would have children, and if so – than it was ten years ago. Naturally, I didn’t tell this to my friend.

While I certainly yearned for pre-pandemic normalcy, or perhaps a time where my age was not nearly as consequential, I was also inspired by muthaland, Chattanooga, Tenn., the first album of 2020 by rapper Bibimutha. muthaland Helping me take myself out of this pressure to live up to everyone’s expectations. The album begins by promising a good time; In the opening skit, a game show contestant swallows an acid tab to enter Bibimutha’s world. This realm of her imagination ends up as a tangle of feelings and thoughts, where not a single factor – not her career or single motherhood – completely defines who she is.

I first heard about Bibimutha in 2016. Not long before artists like art rocker Björk embraced her. Even in this crowded music landscape, it’s hard to forget an artist who names their debut EP after an iconic makeup palette, or whose moniker dates back to their mid-20s as having two sets of twins. The latter is considered a badge of honor. Early singles like “Rules” and “Rose” were the talk of a smoky-eyed relationship that could make women completely in agreement (“I’m not going to waste my waist, my thighs, my time, and all my energy/effort. Can *** * which just not for me”). The ambitious concepts he had in mind for his debut album also looked promising. his first thought, prosperity gospel, as a result of her love-hate relationship with televangelist pastor Joel Osteen (“He can sell any f****** thing and you’ll just spend your money,” she once said). Later, she stated that she planned to call the album Christine; It would be inspired by a relative who killed men who either betrayed her or abused her.

Yet I didn’t really connect with Bibimutha until we were both at the peak of our frustrations with our careers. In July 2020, Atlanta’s NPR affiliate WABE dropped under the map, a Southern hip-hop podcast that I co-host, just as overall podcast listenership began to return to pre-pandemic levels. and until muthaland Arriving last August, BbyMutha was completely disillusioned with the music industry. “After this album I’m never doing it again,” she said. This rap retirement announcement ended prematurely, although at the time, listeners mourned the lost potential. In muthalandLong after that tab swallowed one of the most indulgent rap fantasies of all time, BbyMutha is a next-gen LA chat with wordplay inspired by Gucci Mane, a rare woman who navigates traps and orders sex from across the gender spectrum. But Bibimutha also emphasizes in “Holographic” that the journey is a “rave with roaches” swirling around her house. At the height of her musical talent, she could still find a place where she falls short.

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As the oldest of my cousins, I spent most of my life in Maryland oriented around achievement and success, setting a good example. After graduating during the 2008 recession, the older I’ve gotten, the harder it felt to be, shortly thereafter separated from my first and only 9-to-5 to pursue a culture journalism career. moved to Atlanta for what seemed frivolous or self-indulgent before this “Essential workers” became part of our lexicon. (“My mom actually ran away from the Vietnam War when she was 16, so I could see” My Block: Atlanta For work, I’m not a s***,” i once joked.) I attributed my lack of hustle to this fear of failure which only intensified over the years. and before muthaland, I looked for music that helped me wrestle with or push through those feelings. open mike eagle dark comedy Soundtracked my uncomfortable entry into the gig economy after college. I still turn to trap jeezy songs Let’s get on this: Thug Inspiration 101 Or DouBoys Cashout’s “started out as an activist” for a momentary boost.

In the spring of 2019, I learned that this persistently worrying and ensuing fatigue had a name: generalized anxiety disorder. (I’ve kept it a secret from my family; my uncle once said that Asians “take too much pride in going to therapy,” as statistics following the Atlanta-area spa shooting would show.) As I tracked my sleep and panic attacks in one notebook after another, I learned that perfectionism—my once default answer to job interviews—is, “What’s your biggest weakness?” – not really to be seen in a positive light at all. Still, my mother’s way of asking “How are you?” Keeps “Are you busy?” and “Are you making money?” And I still answer “yes” every time. It has taken me almost all the time in the past two years to accept that self-awareness is still a work in progress.

Last December, my therapist gave me an exercise regimen that I still use today. In a moment of crisis, I write down the first negative thought that comes to mind (“I always make the wrong decisions,” “My career is coming back,” “Christmas is ruined”). Then I write through a reality check, as if interviewing myself: Are all these ideas true? Or is there evidence that this situation is not as dire as I had feared?

I recognize this train of thought muthaland. Songs like “Roaches Don’t Die” become anthemic because when Bibimutha brags and boasts, it’s like “You don’t f*** with who’s who with who’s government stamp and wic, huh?” Like what happens between songs. When she looks in the mirror and longs for the confident woman she once was (“I miss that b**** sometimes”) she descends on a personal statement in the face of “heavy metal”. “They see the truth when they see me / They see they aunt and they mom and grandma, gee,” she raps. “They look in a mirror, it ain’t clear / I’m afraid of everything being b*****.” At the end of “Scam Likely”, Bibimutha mocks the pseudo-awakening, drag race-savvy listeners who insist on having her as a role model (“And she makes me feel so empowered that ****** is empowered – and i up“). I get her reasoning: Role models seem impenetrable. Bibimutha’s songs sound like she’s rebuilding her confidence in real time.

During my last visit, my therapist told me to work on my definition and measures of success. I still don’t have concrete answers that translate into neat life goals, though maybe that’s an answer in itself. muthaland Teaching me to lower expectations that may read as plausible but ultimately prove untenable. Its themes confirm how I felt after my first 2019 visit, which is that scientists should revisit the psychological properties of hallucinations, even after decades of government-imposed stigma. Bibimutha’s lyrics demonstrate that motherhood, as it would be, cannot replace a sense of self. Neither would career ambitions, for that matter: muthalandThe most obvious nod to any kind of rap pantheon is “outro (skit 5).” Game show hosts thanks “sponsors” Boosie, Webby, and Diamond and Princess from Crime Mob — and then in 19 seconds, it’s over. muthaland otherwise completely untouched by discussion about Rap’s Mount RushmoreHow sales and clout factor into greatness. In how its soul-searching slowly unfolds during its hour-long runtime, the album is teaching me that position is not everything, but timing is.

In the flurry of excessive social activity between getting vaccinated and preparing myself for the Delta version, here’s what I’ll remember most:

The post-vaccination journey that finally took place on a Sunday in May. By 6 p.m. the effect was gone, though my partner reading the tarot gave to our friend, the second Gemini, didn’t wrap up until close to midnight.

The first time I heard BbyMutha’s “GoGo Yubari,” a harsh indictment against her baby daddy and the nature of how she became a baby mama: “Another violent story, another self-esteem destroyed.” BbyMutha released it in June, one of several loose and unreleased EPs from this year. muthaland. (Thank god she didn’t actually retire.)

Finally, a passing comment from a friend ahead of her 35th birthday this month. The keyword was “milestone”, with this weighted expectation we had already achieved, suggesting that all this was not enough. “I’m always here to talk about it,” I said, and I meant it. After the past year of working as a stand-in confidant of BbyMutha, I feel ashamed personally, or a shame at all.

christina lee is a music and culture writer living in Atlanta. She co-hosts the podcast under the map.

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years

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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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