#i literally using my old tumblr to get rid of these silly thoughts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yehet-me-up · 4 years

Note

*busts through the door like I'm the Kool-Aid man* BONJOUR FUCKERS I'M BACK!!! It is I, the Theatrical Gay Anon™! I hope you're ready to endure my endless babbling for a bit cuz I've got lots to say holy shit. Consider this part 1 of like, 1000 cuz I think Tumblr got rid of the submissions feature. I apologize in advance for the spam hehe.

Okay, with that out of the way. Ms. Yehet-Me-Up, may I call you Sarah? Sarah, what the fuck!? I can't even rn. I I give you a simple suggestion, no expectations behind it. I say "Hey, don't you think it'd be cool if Zitao was in the Exodus Mall universe?" to which you said "Yeah, that'd be neat, I might do that. Perhaps make him work at an Irish pub or something" and then I flip out with gratitude and excitement thinking you're gonna do like, a DRABBLE. 500 words at MOST -Theatrical Gay Anon

Imagine my SHOCK, my STUPEFACTION, upon realizing that you wrote OVER TEN THOUSAND WORDS about Huang Zitao aka the wind beneath my wings, the rain to my drought, the corny joke to my Junmyeon. And not only that! But you did this A MONTH AGO. I could've been reading this for so long and I had no idea! How foolish am I? I can't believe you wrote all of this based off of a silly little suggestion I made. I feel like bowing over how not worthy I am Wayne's World style -Theatrical Gay Anon

NOW IN REGARDS TO THE CONTENT OF THIS MASTERPIECE OH MY GOD WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN!? I am floored by your preeminence. First things first, the title? Perfect. Full disclosure, I suck at titles. I've been writing for over a decade now and I'm still shit with titles. It's so hard to come up with just a few words to encapsulate everything you wrote but you do it SO WELL. The moodboard? Amazing. I've always loved that picture of Zitao and it fits so well with the pub setting -Theatrical Gay Anon

I'm afraid you've written "Fractions of Tomorrow" so well that I don't see there being a need for anyone to write anything else...ever. Stories? CANCELED. Poetry? CANCELED. Biographies? CANCELED. It's all over folks. Sarah has written The Best Thing Ever. We've peaked as a society. After I finish writing these asks I'm gonna become a hermit in the woods and make friends with all of the woodland creatures that inhabit it. -Theatrical Gay Anon

But seriously though, I love absolutely everything about this story. As a Zitao fan, I'm used to getting breadcrumbs. Not a lot of ppl write fics about him. I can count on one hand how many long fics of his you can find on Tumblr. But THIS?? This was no breadcrumb, this was a whole fucking bakery. And it all appeals to me so much oh my god? The sappiness of it all, the flowery prose, the rebellious rejection of cynicism, it's all so beautiful I want to marry it. -Theatrical Gay Anon

If I discussed all of the sentences in this fic that made me giggle with joy and kick my feet around I'd be here all day so keep in mind this is just a FRACTION of the ones I loved but I couldn't go without mentioning at least some of them so here we go. "It’s not his first time here, but it’s his first time paying attention" SHUT UP this line is go good it's so simple yet so nuanced I adore it. Seriously, why hasn't anyone hired you to write a screenplay? -Theatrical Gay Anon

"He wonders if you ironed the collar of your shirt to be that precise or if you simply move through the world without acquiring any wrinkles" God, this line is so CUTE it's DISGUSTING he's fond of the reader's un-wrinkled clothes that's such a specific thing to like and is totally the type of thing I've done with the ppl I've crushed on throughout my life. -Theatrical Gay Anon

"‘Zitao,’ he says finally. ‘Cute.’ You say" this is such a little thing but I love that you included his full name in this. I love his full name so much it sounds really pretty. Whenever I hear him refer to himself as "Huang Zitao" in interviews my heart soars. Hearing him speak Mandarin in general is a delight as well. It's an audibly gorgeous language and any racist who says otherwise can EAT MY ENTIRE ASS -Theatrical Gay Anon

"For someone who’s been in love for as long as you can remember she fights awfully hard against Baekhyun’s romantic nature" DEAR GOD I LOVE THESE TWO! I love these movie loving lovesick fools. I love that everyone in the world knows they love each other except them. I love seeing bits and pieces of their story throughout this written universe. I can't wait to see it all come together in Baekhyun's Exodus Mall fic. It's gonna be GLORIOUS -Theatrical Gay Anon

Also! I know you enjoyed my song recs that I thought fit perfectly with All Our Broken Places so here are some for when the Baek x Hitchcock fic drops. I know it's not done yet but I just *know* what it's gonna be like I can feel it in my bones. "Sidekick" by Walk the Moon and "Tongue Tied" by Grouplove. As for Fractions of Tomorrow I knew right away what songs I'd pick. "Dreams" by The Cranberries, "Jumpstarted" by Jukebox the Ghost and "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey -Theatrical Gay Anon

Gosh, this fic filled me with so much energy and joy I feel like a toddler on caffeine. But I really should sleep now though. It's gotten so late that I can see the sunrise peaking up sdksdksl. I'll see ya soon! I will be spamming you with more compliments about this fic once I wake up though! - Theatrical Gay Anon

Hi! I'm back. Okay, now where was I? Oh yeah, I was talking about some of my favorite lines from the story. "‘Hey man, how’s it going?’ Baekhyun reaches out and does a complex handshake with the man before you. ‘Oh, you know. Just working at the salt mines,’ Tao says with a laugh." I LOVE that you made Baek the one Zitao was close with. I miss the beef brothers so much. I'll never forgive SM for what they did to OT12. They were all such good friends 😔 -Theatrical Gay Anon

"‘I’m not sure.’ For a flash Tao’s eyes linger on you once more. ‘I think it would depend on the person.’ And then the bastard goes and winks at you." GOD, HE WOULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS! HE'S SUCH A SHAMELESS FLIRT I HATE HIM *narrator voice* This was of course a huge a lie, he in fact loved Zitao immensely -Theatrical Gay Anon

"‘Sweetheart, I’m everyone’s type.’" You've captured Zitao's unlimited confidence so well and that makes me really happy. It's one of my favorite things about him. The man truly loves himself and I think that's awesome -Theatrical Gay Anon

"Tao looks at you through his lashes, bending close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips when he speaks. ‘Words are just the appetizer, darling. I prefer to have an entire feast.’ 'Any other questions or can I grab your orders?’" ASDKDSDSL SO YOU'RE JUST GONNA SAY THAT PANTY DROPPER LINE AND GO BACK TO BUSINESS AS USUAL ZITAO???? HUH??? IS THAT WHAT WE'RE GONNA DO??? -Theatrical Gay Anon

"‘Oh, nothing.’ He looks like the cat that caught the canary. ‘I just love being right.’" Something I love about EXO fic writers (myself included lol) is that despite all of the different ways they'll write the other members, there is one member who is always written the same and that's Baekhyun. He will always be written as a cheeky little shit cuz he *is* a cheeky little shit. That's just who he is. Messing with ppl is a favorite past time of his. -Theatrical Gay Anon

"'So, love, huh? There’s not some girlfriend or boyfriend of yours waiting for you at home?’" Thank you for not being heteronormative with the "are you dating someone?" convo. I know it might not seem like much but I really appreciate it. -Theatrical Gay Anon

"The beginning of love is always a lightning bolt. If that’s all it ever is you never have to deal with being knocked on your ass by the resulting thunderstorm" OOF, this one got me. So very true. The beginning of love is so scary! -Theatrical Gay Anon

"I could argue that anarchy still is love. Love of your beliefs and love of a person or a place or a thing so much that you’re willing to fight for it" OKAY BUT PASSIONATE LEATHER JACKET WEARING ANARCHIST ZITAO IN A ROCK BAND IS SUCH AN ATTRACTIVE CONCEPT!!! There's nothing sexier than a bad boi that will hate capitalism with you! He'd probably be the one to give ppl rides to protests and stuff I LOVE IT -Theatrical Gay Anon

"If we say love is a feeling, who’s to say that we aren’t in love? If we decide it’s an action then which one is it? A kiss or a commitment or - maybe it’s nothing more complicated than putting words to the way I feel when you look at me?" Listen I don't mean to be dramatic or anything (wait, who am I kidding? I'm literally the Theatrical Gay Anon being dramatic is like my Thing) but if a guy ever said that to me my trans boi pussy would be open for business IMMEDIATELY

Alright, so, uh Final Thoughts. This may be my new favorite work of yours, and no it's not just cuz it's got my ultimate bias in it lmao. This year has been so shitty and it's made my depression + anxiety reach the highest possible levels but reading this, this love story filled with hope and certainty despite not knowing what the future will hold for them, made this year seem easier to cope with. Thank you so much for making this, it means the world to me. -Theatrical Gay Anon

ALRIGHT, LAST ASK AND THEN I'LL SHUT UP I PROMISE but I personally headcanon that Double Shot + Zitao stayed together till the very end. They didn't get married cuz they hate formalities but they got matching tattoos and even when they're old and grey you can still them clear as day on their wrists. When they're asked how they met no one believes their answer lol. And when Double Shot died of old age before Zitao he would sing her favorite song by her grave every Saturday -Theatrical Gay Anon

OKAY SO I know I said I was done and I know I've already sent in like, 30 bajillion asks but I'm curious does Yifan or Luhan also work at the Irish pub?? Or do they work somewhere else in the mall? Inquiring minds want to know -Theatrical Gay Anon

When I tell you this made my entire month (when you sent it weeks ago, I’ve been hanging onto these because they seriously bring me SO much joy holy crap) I am not remotely kidding j;oaisjdflkasdjfa

I am absolutely going to put on these song recs while I work on the next chapter!

a;osdfjlaksdfjasl the fact that you stayed up late to read this warms my heart so much. It reminds me of all the times I stayed up til the ass crack of dawn reading fanfics because I simply could NOT stop reading, so the fact that you enjoyed this like that makes me helllllaaaa emo 🥰

I just??? 2020 was indeed such a long year and affected my energy and creativity and honestly don’t really remember writing this hahaha. I kind of go into a fugue state with these longer fics and they just EMERGE. So to see you reflecting back some of what I wrote allows me to enjoy the process so much more. Makes writing and tumblr fun and I seriously wish everyone writing and creating could have someone as passionate and thoughtful and hilarious as you hyping them up 🌟 it honestly feels like a GIFT and I will absolutely keep writing this series and hoping to be worthy of it 😘

We will definitely get to see more of these two in the finale fic! I got into EXO after Tao, Yifan, and Luhan left so I’m not quite as familar with their personalities, but I could definitely see Yifan working at the US Bank haha. Business suit by day and partying/flirting by night. As for Luhan I feel like he’d work somewhere like the bookstore or the music store?? somewhere quieter and more contemplative.

Thank you again for sending this and for being you <3 I hope 2021 is a wonderful year for you and that you know how AMAZING you are 💖💖💖💖💖

#asks #theatrical gay anon

5 notes · View notes

nico-drives-badly · 5 years

Text

Deleted Scene from Chapter 12

While writing Chapter 12, I wrote a humorous scene between Rose and Abuela that served as a formal introduction to their characters. Although this scene ended up being cut from the final version, it did serve as a great character development exercise, and Chapter 12 simply wouldn’t have been the same without it.

So, since I love this deleted scene to pieces and I still have it saved in my notes, I’ve decided to share it on Tumblr with you guys...as a treat. ;)

(Note: this scene follows the same timeline of events as the rest of Chapter 12, and takes place between sections 1 and 2.)

For Rosalinda “Rose” Martínez, family always came first. Whether it was corralling her younger siblings, helping her parents run Novela del Lago as the bookstore clerk, or visiting her grandmother every weekend in Tumult City, Rose was willing to drop everything to provide and care for her familia. After all, it’s what they had always done for her; she’d be a hypocrite and fool not to do the same.

That was why, when news of the infamous Red Zone breach made its way to Novela del Lago, Rose immediately climbed into her run-down Mustang and drove straight to her grandmother’s apartment in Tumult City. Rose knew it was dangerous — beyond dangerous — to enter the city during a Red Zone advisory, but she refused to let that stop her. After all, her beloved 81-year-old abuela was in danger.

And there was nothing that Abuela loved more than danger.

Rose arrived in downtown Tumult City at around 2:00 PM, only to find that the once bustling suburbs were now crumbling to ruins. The city streets were devoid of all traffic, the buildings reduced to rubble, and its infrastructure uprooted and mangled far beyond the point of repair. It looked like something from the apocalypse, the damage was so unreal.

Rose let out an irritated groan as she pulled up to the virtually abandoned apartment complex. Of course Abuela would be the only one dumb enough to stick around; knowing that stubborn old woman, becoming the sole survivor of the apocalypse was probably on her bucket list. Thankfully, Abuela’s neighborhood was left untouched by the demon’s destruction, which offered a small inkling of relief. They still had time to evacuate...for now.

Thanking her lucky stars, Rose exited her Mustang and scurried up the stairs to Abuela’s apartment on the 5th floor, where she frantically pounded on the door.

“Abuela!” Rose shouted through the doorway, hoping and praying that she could hear her. “Abuela, open up!”

Rose heard Abuela’s raspy yet surprisingly strong voice sound from the other side: “Who is it?”

“If I called you ‘Abuela’, then it’s probably your granddaughter,” Rose replied in a sing-songy tone, a vain attempt of masking her growing agitation.

“Ah, Rosa!” Abuela exclaimed, laughing heartily despite Rose’s annoyance. “I thought that was you. Come in, dearie! The door’s unlocked.”

“Of course it is,” Rose grumbled under her breath, before begrudgingly turning the doorknob.

Abuela’s apartment was nothing to brag home about, but it did house some of her family’s most precious heirlooms, having been passed down through many generations. In Fidelis — Abuela’s native country — it was believed that once their ancestors departed from this world, they had only the legacy of those who remember them to keep them alive; once their legacies faded, so too did their souls. Rose wasn’t too sold on the concept, but she did respect her grandmother’s dedication to keeping her family’s stories and traditions alive. Still, in the back of her mind, Rose couldn’t help but wonder: what would happen to those old souls if the demon destroyed this place…?

Rose shook the thought from her head, however, and marched straight up to her grandmother, who was in the midst of reading a extremely erotic magazine that probably had their ancestors turning in their graves.

“Abuela, we need to get you out of here,” Rose warned her. “Before it’s too late!”

The urgent message didn’t seem to faze Abuela one bit; in fact, she just kept skimming through her article (or what Rose assumed to be an article) without even glancing up at her granddaughter.

“Abuela!” Rose scoffed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to her frazzled granddaughter, Abuela lowered the magazine just slightly from her face and glanced up at Rose, a playful gleam in her warm brown eyes.

“What’s that, dearie?” Abuela asked loudly, smirking a little. She loved to mess with her little nieta, as much as she knew it drove her crazy. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“Oh, I know you can hear me,” Rose replied snidely, placing her hands sternly on her hips.

But Abuela merely laughed in response, which only seemed to aggravate her granddaughter even more. “Oh, Rosa, you are just like my hijo — always taking things so seriously! Careful, dearie, or you’ll get his frown lines, too!”

“Abuel-aaa!” Rose whined. “This IS serious! There’s a huge demon boss on the loose, and it’s already destroyed most of the city! If you stay here, you’ll get killed!”

Abuela cackled in response. “Oh, Rosa…did you seriously think I didn’t know about el demonio? I listen to those police scanners every day! Trust me, I know exactly what I’m getting into. They didn’t call me ‘The Nightmare of El Diablo’ for nothing!”

“That was also 30 years ago!” Rose reminded her grandmother none-too-gently. “Face it, Abuela, you can’t protect yourself like you used to. Your life is literally at stake!”

Abuela finally put down her magazine and crossed her arms playfully at Rose, raising a knowing eyebrow. “And yet here you are, driving straight into a Red Zone just to check on me! For being so similar to your spineless father, you sure have your abuela’s bravery, don’t you?”

/Here we go again,/ Rose groaned internally.

Abuela proceeded to lecture about Rose’s career choice in that bittersweet, passive-aggressive tone she always did: “If only my dear Diego taught you about the sword like he did all those books...you would’ve made a great devil hunter, Rosa!”

“Yeah, I’ll stick with my Demonology degree with a concentration in anatomy and physiology, thanks.” Rose gave her grandmother a steely glare.

“And just where has that big, fancy degree or yours gotten you?” Abuela rolled her eyes in response. “A dead-end job at your father’s bookstore?”

Rose’s face turned as red as her namesake at the comment. As much as she hated to admit it, Abuela did have a point. “Well...I...uh...”

Suddenly, an ear-splitting demonic screech echoed through the city streets and rattled the apartment. Panic rising in her chest, Rose turned towards the window just in time to see the Hydra slither past, its eight basilisk heads snapping furiously at anything that drew near.

“Look, can we talk about my life choices when we’re NOT in imminent danger?” Rose replied finally, cutting the argument short. “We need to get out of here!”

Abuela opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden screech from the Hydra drowned her out. The serpent demon had slammed one of its eight heads into the building beside theirs, raining down tons upon metric tons of concrete on the left side of their apartment. The impact made the whole building shake like a magnitude 10 earthquake, but thankfully, the apartment itself remained structurally sound. One more high-pitched screech, and the Hydra began to slither away, retreating towards the opposite end of the street.

But Abuela remained as calm and collected as ever, and she gave her granddaughter a mischievous wink. “Who says we’re in danger?”

Abuela stood abruptly from the sofa and walked purposefully to the wine cabinet beside the windowsill, swiftly unlocking it and revealing its contents to Rose. Unbeknownst to anyone in the family, Abuela kept all of her old devil hunting weapons locked in this cabinet, even after they demanded her to get rid of them.

Needless to say, Rose’s eyes shot open like gunfire when she saw Abuela’s arsenal: several long rifles, an assortment of pistols, a fully-loaded crossbow, and a fancy dagger locked in an ornate case. What was perhaps even more disconcerting, however, was that every single weapon was fully locked and loaded, and she still had several rounds worth of ammo to spare. How Abuela managed to fit all of this in such a small wine cabinet was anyone’s guess; personally, Rose was betting on witchcraft.

“You really thought I’d throw away my devil arms?” Abuela cackled at her granddaughter, her brown eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree with excitement. “Over my dead body!”

Abuela quickly began to raid through the cabinet. “Now get over here! We’ll both need a weapon if we want to protect ourselves.”

“Wait, what?!” Rose gaped. “I don’t know how to use that stuff!”

“Ah, don’t be silly, Rosa! I taught you how to use a crossbow, remember?” Abuela reminded her.

“Yeah, when I was 10!” Rose countered.

Abuela chucked the fully-loaded crossbow across the room right at Rose’s face, but she thankfully caught it without getting stabbed.

“Then it’s time to brush up, dearie!” Abuela winked at her granddaughter, giving her a devilish smirk.

Rose was absolutely fed up, at this point, and she furiously tossed the crossbow aside. Before Abuela could even protest, Rose grabbed her by the arm and forcefully dragged her towards the door, since was already carrying a pistol and the encased dagger in her hands.

“Abuela, we’re not fighting. We’re leaving.” Rose told her sternly. “Now drop the gun and come on already!”

“But, dearie…!”

“Don’t ‘dearie’ me!” Rose snapped. “I don’t care how young you think you are. You’re retired, and you should leave the devil hunting to the professionals...the WORKING professionals.”

“If I hadn’t blown out my shoulder at 55, I’d still be working!” Abuela retorted. “And until I shake hands with Sparda himself, I’ll be damned if I run from a challenge!”

“You’ll be damned if you don’t!” Rose cried incredulously, before resuming to drag Abuela towards the door. “Now, come on, we’re getting out of he—“

CRASH!

All of a sudden, the apartment window shattered, sending shards of glass flying in all directions and causing both of them to jump. The culprit: a peculiar sword with almost motorcycle-like modifications, complete with exhaust pipes and a brake handle. The blade appeared to have been stripped down to its bare bones — most likely to make room for the new attachments — and the only remnant of its original design was a small etching of a rose towards the blade’s hilt, half-hidden by the added handle.

They didn’t have much time to admire it, however. Just seconds after the sword crashed through the window and skidded across the floor, a young man with stark white hair came tumbling in after. Rose screamed as the man crash-landed into the apartment, barreling straight into the sofa and launching it clear into the wall before finally rolling to a stop in front of them. The sofa struck the wall with an insane amount of force, for the record, creating spider web-like cracks in the wall and leaving behind a massive dent.

Now, Rose might’ve preferred fantasy novels over textbooks, but she knew how physics worked; if a human was somehow able to body-slam into their couch with the force of a semi-truck, something definitely wasn’t adding up. This shouldn’t have been humanly possible...unless...

Abuela, on the other hand, looked like she had just seen the face of royalty. That white hair...it was unmistakable!

“The blood of Sparda,” Abuela whispered in awe, her brown eyes welling up with happy tears.

Meanwhile, the young devil hunter slowly stood to his feet, grunting softly. Abuela gasped like a fan girl as Nero, grandson of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, casually brushed the dirt out of his hair and plucked the stray glass shards off of his jacket. Nero, noticing the pair, slowly turned around to face them and greeted them with an awkward half-smile.

“Sorry for barging in,” Nero chuckled nervously, walking over to his sword and returning it to its sheath as Rose and Abuela’s eyes followed his every move. “I would’ve called ahead, but you know...Hydras don’t accept quarters.”

“S-sparda...you’re of the blood of Sparda!” Abuela finally found the courage to speak, fighting back the urge to squeal with every fiber of her being. She never thought she’d truly have the honor to see any of Sparda’s kin in the flesh…

Nero scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Technically, I’m his grandson...but yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Another roar from the Hydra outside beckoned Nero’s attention back to the battlefield, and he began to make his leave. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get back to V and Umbra. Sorry about the mess.”

Rose’s eyes widened in an instant. V? As in, V from the bookstore? The same V who wrote those notes in the back of that book…the same book that said “property of Vergil Sparda” on the cover…?

Nero quickly began to rattle off the Devil May Cry damage policy as he walked towards the window, with each sentence faster than the last: “Devil May Cry is not responsible for property damages directly caused by demons, and will only reimburse employee-related damages. All legal inquiries must be sent bymailtoourmainbranchinRedGrave, MakeoutallcheckstoDanteSparda, voidwhereprohibited, thaNKYOUHAVEANICEDAY!”

The young devil hunter shot a quick finger-gun in their direction before jumping out of the window, the sudden and apparent decision to fall to his death causing Rose to yelp. Less than a second later, however, Nero summoned his winglike spectral arms from his back and soared upward, returning to their plane of vision as he flew towards the Hydra in the near distance.

Rose and Abuela’s jaws were practically scraping the floor of the apartment, at this point, they were in so much shock. After a moment or two of silence, however, Abuela simply couldn’t hold back her excitement anymore; she squealed.

“It’s THE blood of Sparda, Rosa! The REAL blood of Sparda!!” Abuela grabbed Rose’s shoulders and shook her violently as she spoke, her brown eyes glistening with excitement. “I’ve waited nearly 40 years to see his bloodline in battle! Come on, dearie, we can’t afford to miss this!”

Abuela hastily gathered her assortment of weapons and scurried out the door, but for once, Rose didn’t try to stop her. Rather, she followed right at her grandmother’s heels, taking care to lock the door behind them before scurrying down the apartment stairs.

Rose knew from the beginning that there was something special about that boy. And if he truly was what Rose thought he was...she had to see it for herself.

#life rewritten #deleted scene #nico writes

10 notes · View notes

welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

The Period of the Long Change (15/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: Like...9.5K. It’s the last chapter. It’s long. AN: Hey! This story is over! If you’ve been clicking and reading and sticking around, I cannot possibly tell you how much I appreciate it. Even the idea of you guys being interested in this silly, over-sized hockey family blows my mind. So, thank you. For realz. I have a questionable number of one-shots still sitting in my docs and I don’t know that I’ll ever actually close the book on this verse officially, so there’s probably some more adjectives to come. Thanks for reading, internet.

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

“A little up on the right.” Emma grunted, trying to shift the kid in her arms and that only ended with a foot in her thigh and a mumbled apology and they were going to rip the sign. And maybe the balloons had been overkill. They’d been Mary Margaret’s idea anyway.

“Reese’s, my arms are going to fall off my body,” Emma warned, glancing over her shoulder when she heard something that sounded a hell of a lot like several hockey sticks crashing to the ground. “Margaret,” she snapped, met with a pair of wide eyes and an innocent face that Emma was fairly positive her other kid was practicing. “What did we say about running around?” “C’mere, Pegs,” Mary Margaret said, holding her hand out and pulling the nearly two-year-old and decidedly rambunctious kid against her thigh. “That was totally my fault anyway, I got distracted by how crooked the sign is.”a

Emma sighed, letting her head fall against Matt’s back which wasn’t really helping her general state of being at all because she could feel the stitching of the lettering press against her forehead and that just kind of felt over the top.

More than the balloons.

God, there were so many balloons.

“I thought we only had to go a little up on the right,” Emma muttered. Her arms were going to be incredible toned by the end of this. “A little does not suggest that it’s incredibly crooked.” “I didn’t use that word.”

“There was an implication. And maybe we should be using actual words. So my arms don’t fall off before we even get to puck drop.” “Your arms are going to fall off?” Matt asked, twisting against Emma and landing another kick. She grimaced.

“Not if I can avoid it. And why do you sound so interested in that, huh?’

Emma made a face, arms grateful when Matt rested his feet on one of the lower cubbies in the locker they were currently decorating and he laughed when she peppered his face with kisses. “Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom,” he said, voice getting louder with every shout. They were playing a dangerous balancing game, but the jersey he had on was new and Peggy’s was almost comically large, even after being custom-made because they were those kinds of people now and decorating Killian’s locker with signs their kids made the night before suddenly didn’t seem quite as ridiculous.

It was, after all, kind of momentous.

The Post headline had been almost clever that morning – Jones’ing for a Comeback, which played very well to the collective sense of humor of most of the New York Rangers first line and the Vankald-Jones group text message, but David thought it was lazy and Killian had rolled his eyes when Emma showed him her phone.

And then kissed her because it was the season opener and it didn’t land on Matt’s birthday this year, but that was only three days away and it was a comeback and she wasn’t really nervous.

Honestly.

She was excited and a little anxious and a little frustrated, really, because it was raining and the tent guys from Bed-Stuy had been incredibly difficult in the last week. She’d filled out so much paperwork she was positive she had carpal tunnel in both wrists.

Just to prove a point or something.

Emma wasn’t nervous.

At all.

She was fine. It was going to be fine. Killian had played in preseason games anyway and nothing had happened and practice was great and he really hadn’t argued Ariel’s PT schedule much that summer, so that was some kind of miracle and it was going to be great.

That was even better than fine.

Great, good, fantastic, one-hundred percent totally ok.

Ok was not a good adjective for this situation.

She hoped he didn’t get hit. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do if he got hit.

“Mom,” Matt whispered, pulling on the front of Emma’s shirt and she hadn’t actually changed into something professional yet. She wasn’t entirely sure she was going to. The Jones in between her shoulder blades matched her kids.

And at some point she’d become some kind of sentimental freak.

Probably after reading that Post story while Killian watched pre-game film with Matt and Peggy.

“Yeah, kid,” Emma said quickly, shaking her head like she was trying to get rid of conversational and vaguely emotional cobwebs. She wasn’t entirely sure it worked. She might have been a little worried. But only a little.

Not a lot.

That would have been insane.

He’d played in preseason games already.

This was not a preseason game.

“Can we fix Dad’s sign now?”

Emma blinked, licking her lips like that would fix whatever was clearly wrong with her heartbeat and they needed to order new walkie talkies because the one hanging from her belt was doing an absolute garbage job of delivering whatever message Merida was shouting.

If it had to do with the tents Emma was going to scream.

“We can absolutely do that,” she nodded. “Ok, come here, and try not to flail your legs out when you move.

Matt grinned – which seemed like an unfair card for the universe to play in whatever twisted game it was currently competing in with Emma – twisting and wobbling a little and one of his feet fell off the shelf. It slammed into Emma’s right shin.

She couldn’t quite stop her exclamation of pain, hissing in a breath of air and squeezing her eyes shut, but that only led to her being entirely unprepared for the rest of Matt’s body to collide with her chest and they should have staged some kind of walk through for this.

There hadn’t been time.

And Matt had gone to the actual walk through anyway.

“Are you ok?” Mary Margaret asked, genuine concern in the question. Emma nodded, but she couldn’t actually voice her guarantee, slightly worried about the bruise she swore she could feel blossoming on her skin.

“Sorry, Mom,” Matt whispered. That was like several aces and some kind of royal flush and Emma didn’t really know any other card games, but the universe was definitely the dealer in this strange metaphor and had definitely drawn Blackjack as soon as it flipped its cards over.

Emma wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, ignoring the slight scratch of brand-new jersey fabric under her cheek when she leaned forward and he didn’t squirm against her kiss. So, maybe, she was the one winning the metaphor.

She’d lost track of it anyway.

“You know what I think we need?” Emma asked, Matt’s hair nearly finding its way into her mouth when he shook her head. “More stick tape.” Mary Margaret laughed behind her, a wide smile on her face when Emma twisted around. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before. That’s definitely what the whole project was missing.” “Well, we can’t afford to let these priceless works of art and questionable number of balloons suffer for our lack of planning, can we?” “That would be irresponsible.”

Emma’s arms ached, still or probably always would after this, but she swore the happiness was literally bubbling out of her soul at this point and she’d have to apologize to Kristoff for stealing all the stick tape.

“Can you see any in Dad’s locker, Mattie?”

He made a contradictory noise – which was only slightly like Killian and a bit like Will when he didn’t appreciate particular whistles, and Mary Margaret’s eyes bugged slightly when she realized what was happening. Emma’s cheek muscles were starting to ache too.

She dropped Matt back onto his feet, fingers moving with almost practiced ease through the drawer he’d been standing on and he yelled look when he found a half-finished roll.

“That’s perfect kid,” Emma said, pulling the tape out of his hand and neither she nor Mary Margaret were surprised when he grabbed a puck too.

“Put it in your pocket so no one sees you take it when we go back upstairs,” Mary Margaret suggested. Emma’s jaw cracked when it dropped.

“I don’t even know who you are right now, Reese’s.” Mary Margaret shrugged, but she’d snuck balloons into Madison Square Garden several hours before a season-opening event and puck drop against the Flyers and Emma probably should have expected that too.

She was fairly positive David was playing lookout at the other end of the hallway.

“Someone who bought real, high-quality balloons for more than one celebration.” Emma blinked. “What?” “You heard me.” “Are you kidding me?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “That makes no sense at all.” “Yeah, well I don’t want to be accused of not being able to keep a secret later on,” Mary Margaret said. “But I’d maybe reconsider sneaking out of the Garden later.” “What?” “You said that already.”

“I know, I know,” Emma stammered, mind racing and trying to figure out what was going on at the same time she was trying to understand what the hell Merida was talking about on the walkie-talkie. They needed to get out of that locker room. Soon. They had to go stand in the rain. Or not in the rain.

She’d punch all the tent people if there was actually rain involved.

“But, like….what?” Emma asked. Peggy wiggled against Mary Margaret’s side, dangerously close to a wail and that was not going to end well if they were still in the locker room.

“You can sneak out of the restaurant later,” Mary Margaret answered. “Just maybe don’t leave the Garden without going uptown first.” “We live uptown.” “You’re being difficult on purpose now,” Mary Margaret accused, but she couldn’t stop smiling and Killian’s locker was going to be covered completely in stick tape by the time Matt was done with it.

Emma shook her head. “I’m not, honestly. I am…”

She drifted off, teeth sinking into her lower lip and shoulders heaving when she inhaled deeply and it would have been stupid to start crying in the middle of the New York Rangers locker room. So she blinked instead.

That was way better.

Definitely.

For sure.

“Yeah, that was totally the goal,” Mary Margaret said. “Don’t bother asking if that was an intentional pun, it was and I expect you tell everyone how absolutely hysterical you think I am later on tonight.” “Hopefully after some real goals.” “I’ve got no doubt whatsoever.”

“Ah, that was good.” “Not the longest hope speech I’ve ever given, but it really is supposed to be a surprise.” “Still hit the mark,” Emma promised, letting Peggy grab ahold of her fingers when she managed to get back on the ground. Mary Margaret’s upper body strength was no match for her quasi-namesake.

“And,” Ruby added, coming around the corner like she’d simply been waiting to hit her mark in the conversation. Emma rolled her eyes. “She and Cap would totally sneak out of the Garden if they could. So we had to be proactive about this.”

“Don’t you have media to keep at bay?” Emma asked.

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here. And they got their stuff already because, you know, we’ve got that whole pre-game thing happening. With your carpet.” “How’s it look?” “The carpet?” “Yeah. Appropriately blue? Not damp.” “They put tents up, Em,” Ruby said slowly, like she was talking to a person who was slightly to moderately terrified of what would happen when her hockey-playing husband inevitably got hit against the boards that night.

It was hockey. That was how it worked.

Maybe Emma was worried.

Maybe might have meant definitely.

“And they look ok?”

Ruby nodded, smile spreading across her face like it was trying to set a record for being slightly frustrating. “I think they knew you’d threaten to run them over with several large machines if they didn’t do it perfectly.” “Aw, that’s kind of rough,” Emma sighed, but also kind of true and the footprints on one of the signs was only because Peggy had been trying to imitate her pacing in her office the night before. Merida had probably told Ruby that.

“And accurate. The tents look fine. The stands look fine. The carpet is exceptionally blue because it is the same carpet we’ve been using for decades.” “We haven’t been here that long,” Mary Margaret mumbled.

“Really? God, that can’t be right. It feels like forever.” “And that seems kind of depressing,” Emma pointed out. “Mattie, I think we’re good with the tape. Put that back where you found it, ok?” He made a noise, a jumbled string of words that made a hell of a lot more sense when Emma twisted to find he’d used all the tape and she should have been ready for that. Ruby tried to turn her laughter into a convincing cough.

“You are an artist, mini-Jones,” she proclaimed, crouching down to wrap both arms around him. “Hey, how many hours until we hit the five-year-old mark?” “Sixty-three,” he yelled. Emma blinked again. Mary Margaret might have actually cackled. Peggy didn’t seem to appreciate either. She quite clearly wanted to knock over more equipment.

“That’s actually pretty close,” Ruby said. The smile on her face widened, but it might have also gotten a little softer and she was definitely in the running for biggest pushover when it came to being charmed by Matthew David Jones, particularly three days before his fifth birthday. “We’ve been practicing,” she added, glancing up at Emma’s undoubtedly stunned expression. “Your kid’s going to be a mathematical genius by the time I’m done with him.” “That sounded really aggressive,” Emma muttered.

“It’s because we’ve been using major New York Rangers dates in history to help explain it.” “And that sounds like cheating,” Mary Margaret said.

Ruby shrugged. “Whatever works, right? As long as he knows how to add by the end of it.” “I think that’s what school is for, actually.” “You can help with the lessons too if you want, M’s.” “I mean, obviously, that’s what I want.”

Emma opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she was going to say, but sure it was going to be something good and she was only a little disappointed when nothing came out. Her teeth clicked when she snapped her jaw again, another crack she didn’t entirely appreciate.

Ruby arched an eyebrow. “You freaking out yet?”

“No,” Emma lied.

“That was awful. Really. Like. As bad as it could possibly have been.”

“Yeah, well, you’re apparently staging math lessons with my kid in secret, so--”

“--So, that is not even remotely the same thing. You know it’s going to be fine. He’s probably going to hat trick.” “Please don’t,” Emma started, but it was already too late and Matt’s shouts were very likely doing damage to the paint in the locker room. And their eardrums.

Ruby winced, every single one of her teeth on display as she and Mary Margaret both tried to quiet the almost five-year-old kid who was actually jumping up and down with excitement.

And Killian would probably score a hat trick.

Just to prove a goddamn point.

Or inspire a slightly more creative New York Post headline.

There were more footsteps coming around the doorway, a flash of blue and far-too-long curls and Emma was still a little surprised how tall Henry was every single time she saw him. It wasn’t his birthday yet either.

David was the worst lookout in the history of the world.

“Hey,” Roland said. “We heard yelling. What’s going on?” “What are you guys doing down here?” Emma asked. “Shouldn’t you be outside?” “It’s raining. And we were waiting for you guys. Mer said you were here and we kind of wanted food.” “There’s food outside.” Roland muttered ehhh and Henry didn’t quite swat at his shoulder, but it was pretty close, knees barely buckling when Matt slammed into his side. The kid was never going to stop shouting about hat tricks now. “There’s definitely food outside,” Henry promised. “And the tents look really good, but Mer did tell us you were here and we didn’t really want to wait in line.” “Man, you guys have got it good, don’t you?” Ruby asked knowingly, standing back up and immediately hitting her head with a balloon. “Where the hell did these even come from?” “Mom and Dad ordered ‘em,” Roland shrugged, a surprising sentence for several reasons, least of all the actual words he used, but mostly because that meant the balloons had been ordered and this plan was extensive.

“Only because it was cheaper that way,” Mary Margaret explained.

Emma nodded, fingers drifting towards her left wrist out of instinct and she flexed her hand half a dozen times when she remembered. Ruby’s smile looked vaguely predatory now. And far too knowing. Henry laughed.

“It’s going to be fine, you know that, right?” he asked.

“Don’t try and get adult with me, kid,” Emma muttered, but Ruby whispered freaking out under her breath and Mary Margaret was going to give them all detention.

Henry pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth, running a hand through his hair – which felt like some kind of power play by the universe. “I’m not. I’m pointing out facts. Did Rubes tell you about the hat trick guarantee yet because she should have.” “You’re giving away all my secrets,” Ruby groaned. “And, before you freak out, Em, or you, mini-Jones.” Matt snapped to attention, eyes wide and a little familiar, but he’d never put that puck back in Killian's locker. “Cap did not guarantee a hat trick. That’s just--” “--Us,” Roland finished. He pulled his own puck out of his back pocket, and Emma couldn't really twist her wrists still because that still kind of hurt, but she hadn’t had a ton of time and it had been a spur of the moment decision anyway.

“How much do you get if you win?” she asked.

“A lot. Uncle Will thinks he’ll only get three points, but Hook hat tricked in a gold medal game, so this seems pretty par for the course.” “You’re mixing up your sports and clichés. Don’t let Anna hear that.” “Nah, she won’t. She was promising Kristoff we wouldn’t trash the locker room too much when we decorated.” “We?” “We all are awful at keeping secrets,” Mary Margaret said. Her eyes were glossy.

Emma hummed, mouth twisted and two different kids trying to hang off her side at the same time. She wasn’t ever going to change her shirt. “How’d you get the balloons into the Garden?” “David flashed his badge. I baked that one security guard more cookies. And both Roland and Henry promised they’d get said security guard’s granddaughter an autograph from Rook because she’s got a crush on him.”

“Does he know that?” “He’s been in media, Em,” Ruby reasoned. “Some of us are actually doing our jobs.” “Oh, low blow,” Emma muttered, but she couldn’t actually feel bad and Merida deserved the entire state of New York at this point. She glanced back at the teenager and almost grown adult in front of her – each of them decked out in head-to-toe blue and she hadn’t noticed Roland had both Robin and Killian’s number on his cheeks before.

It all felt a little full-circle.

And emotional.

Decidedly emotional.

“Anna did it,” he said, answering the question Emma hadn’t asked. Mary Margaret had lost the battle against crying. “And, uh…” “Here,” Henry finished, holding out a sheet of printer paper with half a dozen folds and one of the corners had ripped. “It’s raining. We had to take drastic measures. And we didn’t have, you know, crayons at home.” “You used crayons?” Ruby asked skeptically, Emma’s hands shaking a bit when she reached out and she knew every single person in that locker room was staring at her left wrist.

“We used markers that we just bought in the Duane Reade around the block,” Roland shrugged. “But we figured we should get in on the decorating action too.” It looked as drastic as Henry promised it was, the markers running a bit on the slightly damp paper and they’d clearly run out of room with the block letters, but the SKATE FAST was still obvious even through Emma’s slightly blurry vision.

“It’s going to be good, Emma,” Henry promised, squeezing her shoulder and smiling with a confidence she was certain sparked a small, metaphorical fire in the pit of her stomach. “Plus Rol really wants his money.” “We’ve turned you all into degenerates,” Mary Margaret sighed, but Emma was already shaking her head and they needed to get out of that locker room.

She was fairly positive one of the sticks Peggy had knocked over was broken.

“No, no, it’s nice. That’s a super lame word, huh?” “Luckily you’re not the one writing the headlines tonight,” Ruby grinned. “Hey, he know what you did yet?” Emma shook her head – met with several decidedly emotional and possibly proud looks and Ruby muttered oh this is going to be fun while Roland pulled another roll of stick tape out of Robin’s locker.

The rain wasn’t as bad as Emma had convinced herself it had to be, like the weather was being held to some kind of emotional marker, but it still took some finangling to get everyone who needed to be in the marked off section of the stands, into the marked off section of the stands and Anna could barely hold onto her phone.

“Mattie,” Emma said, doing her best to sound adult in a situation where she couldn’t bend her wrist and her walkie-talkie was definitely broken. “What did we say were the rules while you’re up here?” “No jumping, no running away from Anna, no throwing the puck.”

The last one was a recent addition – Anna’s eyebrows flying into her hair when Matt listed off the rules – and Emma nodded deftly. “That’s right. And Pegs,” she turned towards the toddler already displeased with her options of being held by either David or Mary Margaret. Whoever wasn’t holding Leo. “No trying to run anywhere, even when Dad is--”

She nearly growled when her phone buzzed in her pocket, sure it was something to do with the cars or the scheduled player arrivals and Emma wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a fan brawl happening somewhere, just to keep her on her toes.

It wasn’t any of those things.

Did you know that the Garden ceiling is the only arena ceiling in the world that’s concave. Something about better sound. So I expect good cheers tonight.

“Em,” David muttered. “You’ve got to finish your mom speech or we’re going to end up with some very frustrated two year olds here.”

Emma shook her head. Her phone buzzed again.

The first version of the Garden was built before b asketball was invented. That’s not relevant to our current sports interests, but is at least kind of interesting.

The Garden is the only venue where all four Beatles have played solo concerts. They never played here together.

The torch from the Statue of Liberty was kept on display at the Garden from 1876 to 1882.

Swan.

Swan, you’ve got to at least acknowledge that you’re impressed by these facts, otherwise it’s no fun at all.

She didn’t quite giggle, but it was pretty damn close and David stopped yelling about responsibility when her fingers started flying over her phone screen.

The Post is probably going to use your name in a pun tomorrow morning.

Is that a fact?

You want to bet?

Emma heard the cheers before she could even come up with something witty to send back, knuckles turning white so she didn’t drop her phone. Anna took another picture.

Matt started jumping.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

And it wasn’t going to do much to her responsible marker, but Emma was having a difficult time focusing on anything except the smile on his face and the look in his eyes, gaze darting around the crowd like he was trying to find something and her heart possibly exploded when he found exactly what he wanted.

Killian grinned, running a hand through slightly damp hair because they couldn’t get the tents all the way to the end of the block. The city of New York, Emma was certain, was bound and determined to cause her as much frustration as possible, but any sense of that was gone as soon as her brain processed how goddamn good Killian looked in his suit.

Blue.

Obviously.

The headlines probably wouldn’t mention how he actually ran down the carpet, sure steps that put Emma’s heart back together only so it could explode again, but it was all she’d be able to think about for weeks after the season opener and the fans around them yelled when Killian moved up the stairs.

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” Emma muttered, a distinct lack of anything except swooning in the sentence.

Killian grinned wider. His eyes were incredibly distracting.

“Ah, well, I figured it was more fun to present my facts in person,” he said. He had to bend his knees to grab Matt, both arms wrapped around him and laughter lingering in the air and the rain drops and several different adults yelled be careful, Cap at him.

Emma didn’t move.

She might have blinked again.

“I think you’re trying to show off,” she said.

“That’s an absolute guarantee. How’s it going?” “It’s way too easy, honestly.” Killian laughed – normal and confident and several other very positive adjectives and Emma forgot about her walkie-talkie entirely. His eyes traced over her again, like he was taking inventory or stock and it was equal parts overwhelming and something that made more sense than nice, but his mouth opened slightly when he realized she’d never actually changed.

“Oh, that’s not even fair, Swan.” “Maybe I’m just trying to inspire or something.” “Something?” “Something,” she repeated, pulling lightly on his tie when it threatened to twist underneath Matt. “A point. Or whatever.” “One point seems kind of lame, don’t you think?” The crowd around them cheered again – phones out and cameras recording and David kept shaking his head, like he hadn’t also been part of the hat trick bet. Emma did her best not to look too impressed, honestly, she did, but Matt was shouting hat trick, hat trick, hat trick like they were the only two words he’d ever learned and both Roland and Henry were humming the goal song.

Killian did something entirely unfair with his eyebrows.

“A hat trick,” he said, not a question and they were going to cause seismic activity right there on 34th Street.

“If it’s not too much trouble, Hook,” Roland added. Whatever noise Anna made was not entirely human, Emma’s eyes widening to a size that was did more damage than her exploding heart.

Killian and David were both hysterical.

“What do you think, Swan?” he asked. “Seems reasonable, don’t you think?”

She nodded, still not entirely sure if she could remember the English language when he looked at her like that – as if he could absolutely score a hat trick based solely on emotion and feeling and want and that last one was a little out of place on the corner of 34th Street and 7th Avenue.

Or it would have been.

Once upon a time with a different set of beliefs and a different set of dreams and hopes and a distinct lack of either, but that was then and now there was a comeback and headlines and--

“Maybe just a breakaway,” Emma shrugged.

Killian’s lips twitched. “Yeah?” “Yeah. For posterity’s sake or whatever. Full circle.” “Seems rather reflective, love.” “I might be in that kind of mood.” He had to shift Matt to catch her around the forearm, fingers warm despite the distinct chill in the air and it felt like standing on Chase Bridge and balancing above center ice, but Emma’s breath didn’t catch when he kissed her.

On the goddamn corner of 34th Street and 7th Avenue.

The fans cheered again.

“A breakaway it is,” Killian said, not bothering to pull away and it was only a matter of time before Emma’s phone buzzed again because this whole thing was probably being live-streamed on the subReddit.

She didn’t know if that was possible. She did not care.

“Dad,” Matt said, twisting in Killian’s arms with one leg hitched over his hip. “Did you see your locker yet?” Emma squeezed her eyes closed, not able to keep her sigh in her body where a responsible adult would have been able to. Mary Margaret cursed softly.

“I absolutely refuse to be labeled worst secret keeper now,” Anna announced.

“He’s five, Banana. I think he gets a pass.” “No, no, Dad,” Matt argued. “Not for another sixty-one hours!”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s freaky how close it is, isn’t it?” Emma asked, and Killian nodded slowly. “Apparently there have been math classes that I’ve been unaware of and it was a whole thing, but, uh...you should see your locker. And just the general locker room.” “None of this is making much sense, Swan.” “That’s because it’s all supposed to be a surprise.” “Who’s teaching Matt birthday-based math?”

“That was a good alliteration, and Ruby. I think it’s a play in whatever war she’s consistently staging with Scarlet, but that’s only an assumption from me.” “Probably a correct one.” “Charmer.” He grinned, eyebrows twisting and turning and Emma had never thought either of those things were possible until she’d met Killian Jones, but that might have been par for the course and now she was stealing a teenager’s clichés.

“How many headlines do you think we can get if I kiss you again?” “At least five.” “Aiming low, Swan.” “Shut up,” she mumbled, reaching forward to grab the lapels of his jacket. He didn’t stumble when he moved forward, but his hand landed on her hips and it felt a bit like every inch of her was touching him and she could just make out several different whistles directed at them.

One of them was definitely Will.

It didn’t make much of a difference – Emma kissed Killian and Killian kissed Emma and they both ignored whatever it was Will was shouting from the carpet.

“Go check out your locker,” Emma said, voice shaking a bit when his mouth brushed over the curve of her jaw.

“There are several different major news outlets here,” Will called. “All of them witnessing whatever the hell it is you two are doing up there!” “Shut up, Scarlet,” Robin said. “But also we do have to acknowledge some of the fans you aren’t married to, Cap.”

Killian hummed, not moving immediately and Emma tried to keep her wrist out of his line of vision. It was a secret. Or something. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.

“I think that’s my cue,” he muttered.

Emma nodded. “Please don’t mess up my event. And one breakaway goal.” “Done and done. Scouting report?”

Matt’s whole face lit up, and Emma had to bite her lip to make sure she didn’t embarrass herself at her own event. It didn’t take long – he wasn’t even five, but Matt knew as much about the Philadelphia Flyers as anyone who was paid to know that and most of his advice focused on screening the net and blocking the goalie and Killian nodded like he was listening to Arthur. He wouldn't have done that in front of Arthur.

“Thanks kid,” he said as soon as Matt ran out of facts and oxygen. “Don’t jump here, ok, Mattie?” Matt froze, several other shutter snaps echoing around them, and Killian made a face at Peggy before he jogged back down the steps and signed a few autographs and Emma’s phone buzzed, right on cue, as soon as they set foot in the team suite.

I couldn’t have done any of it without you.

Emma bit her lip again.

By her, admittedly, unofficial count, Arthur had smashed four whiteboards in the first two periods, pacing in the back of the bench with an expression that likely could have turned several humans to actual stone.

They weren’t even losing. They were tied, but there were only twenty minutes left and they hadn’t really looked great yet and there was something to be said for season-opening jitters.

Mary Margaret used that word.

Emma couldn’t really talk.

She kept walking, tracing the same semicircle around the same chair in the team suite while several different pairs of eyes flitted her direction once every ten seconds.

To her credit, she hadn’t actually gasped the first time Killian got hit – slammed into the boards at the far end of the ice, which, as David was quick to point out, was probably for the best because Emma wasn’t sure what she’d have done if it had closer to them. Probably just fallen over or something.

“You’re going to do damage to your hamstrings,” David muttered, a wry smile on his face when he twisted in his own chair. He couldn't move much more. Both Peggy and Leo were on top of them and Leo had fallen asleep at some point in the second period, but Peggy seemed fascinated by the whole game and Emma was going to brag about that for at least the first month of the season.

“I don’t think that’s how the human body works,” Emma argued.

“Ah, that may be true. Don’t your feet hurt though?” “I haven’t really thought about that, honestly.” David nodded. “Yeah, that’s almost too obvious.” “Then you should not be asking questions you already know the answer to and let me continue pacing out a hole in this ugly carpet.” “It’s a coping device,” Mary Margaret reasoned. She hadn’t sat down since five minutes into the first, screaming a string of insults that definitely got more pointed with each season and Emma only paused pacing long enough in the second to record a snippet and sent to Ruby.

Her answering ha had lasted for several scrolls of text message.

Anna had her phone out as well - panning around the room until Liam inevitably started yelling about focusing on the ice and Regina kept pointing out that they could watch it on TV. “It’s delayed for us though,” Liam sighed.

“He’s really the most impatient person in the world,” Elsa added. “But seriously, Anna, on the ice and only the ice.” Anna groaned. “You guys are boring. I’m trying to give you the insider’s view.” “They don’t really need that,” Emma said. She swung her leg out when she rounded another corner, keeping her eyes trained on her feet so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

“Boring. Boring. Boring.” “They’ve got to score again, eventually, right?” Mary Margaret asked. Henry shook his head. “The Flyers are big on--” “--Shot blocking,” Matt yelled, and every single head in the entire team suite snapped towards him. His ears didn’t turn red, exactly, but he looked a little stunned and a little embarrassed and Emma had to stop pacing when he ran back towards her.

He wrapped both his arms around her waist, burying his head into her t-shirt and both Vankald sisters aw’ed in tandem. “They practiced that when they were kids,” Liam said, but he sounded a little proud too.

“How’d you know that, Mattie?” Emma asked. She pulled him with her when she moved closer to the windows, standing next to Mary Margaret in spots that she was sure, eventually, would just have their footprints embedded in the carpet.

That carpet was so ugly.

“Dad and me watched the game from last year. Vestrov...Vestrovs…” “Vestrovsky,” Roland finished. He dropped onto the exceptionally ugly carpet on Emma’s other side, the numbers on his cheeks a little streaky now, but Matt moved onto his legs as soon as he held his arms out. “He’s right too,” he added. “Gets in lanes and uses his legs and it’s ridiculous what he does to stop shots. The Flyers goalie should be buying him gifts after every game.” “A rather pointed opinion of the Flyers goalie.” “Not a bad team, might even threaten for a Wild Card this year, but their goalie is atrocious. I’d hate to play on a team like that.” “I think you’ve got some time.” “Never too early to scout. Ask Hook.” “I don’t need to be proved wrong on two different counts,” Emma said, brushing curls away from his eyes and earning a disgruntled noise for her efforts. Liam cursed. Loudly. In Norwegian.

And so did Anna.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, picking her phone up from where it had fallen on the floor and Emma was glad she’d been distracted.

It wasn’t a bad hit – not by any means. It was a normal hit and a normal moment because this was professional hockey, but the replay looked worse every time they showed it on that incredibly ostentatious scoreboard and Robin was actively trying to hold Will back from slamming his fist into that guy’s face.

Killian shook his head, leaning against the Rangers bench and Emma knew, reasonably, his eyes didn’t actually flicker towards the team suite, but she wanted them too and it was almost comforting to imagine.

She glanced at Matt, not sure what she was expecting to find, but it absolutely was not a kid pounding the glass in front of him shouting two minutes like he was also the head referee. He had a very busy schedule that night – ref, coach, number one fan.

It was impressive.

“Hook better screen that goalie,” Roland mumbled, doing his best to keep Matt from jumping on his outstretched angle. “Or all that talk last season is going to be embarrassing.”

Emma laughed, a shaky, undeniably nervous sound because standing in front of the net wasn’t dangerous , but it was the first time in a long time and she needed to come up with another word for fine.

“C’mere, babe,” she said, pulling Peggy away from David and muttering a string of nonsense in her daughter’s ear that was as much for her developmental growth as it was for Emma’s third period sanity. “You think we’re going to score? You think Dad’s going to score? We going to let that guy block all our shot attempts?” “Vestrovsky,” Henry repeated.

“Yeah, I really don’t care.” He grinned, nose scrunched and hand back in his hair and neither of them mentioned how nervous they both obviously were. Regina had taken up Emma’s pacing.

It took, exactly, forty-seven seconds, two rather obnoxious whistles and one faceoff win in the zone.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t know if she was breathing, really. But her arms didn’t threaten to strangle her own kid, so anything else felt like a victory.

Which is what they got.

Robin won the faceoff, pushing the puck back towards Will who was still planting himself on the edge of the circle like he believed he was the offensive threat he absolutely was, and there was a collective gasp from all of them, including the two in Colorado, as soon as he pulled his stick back.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Emma mumbled. She clearly was not above begging the universe.

But the universe was, sometimes, a bit of a dick and consistently liked to surprise her and Vestrovsky couldn't block Will’s shot without threatening to break his own leg. And Killian was very good at screening the goalie.

He kept his stick on the ice, battling for position against two Philadelphia jerseys and Emma wasn’t sure he’d actually tipped the puck into the net until both Matt and Roland yelled “Dad” and “Hook” at the same time.

Figured.

Liam cursed again. In English.

Emma got some fairly good air on her jump, Peggy yelling and David screaming and Mary Margaret kept sniffling, a far cry from the vaguely ruthless cheers she’d been dishing out at puck drop.

“Goal, goal, goal, goal, goal,” Peggy chanted, an impressive show of context clues and they were obviously the best parents in the history of several different universes.

Emma was absolutely crying too.

All things considered, she thought that was fair, the cheering in the suite nothing compared to the cheering in the stands and the celebration on the ice, a rush of blue jerseys and discarded sticks and someone had lost one of their gloves.

It was probably Will.

But none of it mattered when Killian celebrated the same way he celebrated every single goal, arms wide and mouth wider and Emma was sure she could hear it in her soul or something equally absurd. She was going to cry for the first week of the season, at least.

Totally reasonable.

The entire goddamn Garden sang the goal song even after the next faceoff, chanting and shouting and they were going to buy frames for all the inevitable headlines the next morning.

“We did it,” Emma mumbled, pressing the words to Peggy’s shoulders and kissing across her face as Matt recounted the goal until the final buzzer went off.

She did, still, have a job to do and Merida was going to wind up being President by the end of it all, but Emma made it through the to-do-list and only kind of ran to the locker room, slightly frustrated by how out of breath she was at the end of it.

Emma spun on the spot, looking for someone or an assistant coach or possibly Kristoff so she could apologize for what they’d done to the locker room. There wasn’t anyone. At least not at first and it was a testament to the sound of her own pulse hammering in her ears that she didn’t hear his footsteps. “Swan?”

Emma turned again, nearly dislocating both her ankles in the process, and it was good neither of them were holding anything.

She basically launched herself at him.

Killian didn’t stumble backwards, didn’t even flinch or grunt or do anything except wrap his arms around her and pull her flush against his chest and neither one of them did anything except hold onto the other.

A little desperately.

They stood there for days or weeks or the rest of the goddamn season, gripping t-shirts and ignoring the water dripping from the ends of Killian’s hair because he’d totally just gotten out of the shower and probably had media to deal with, but he also had some kind of absurd sixth-sense when it came to Emma and she was going to be selfish for, like, at least five minutes.

Possibly six.

Maybe a round ten.

She really wanted to sneak out of the Garden.

Emma squeezed her arms tighter, fisting the back of his shirt while his fingers traced light patterns over her spine and the name plastered across her. She closed her eyes, trying to force the moment into every single corner of her memory and she refused to ever be held accountable for the absolute romantic drivel that seemed to just fall out of her as soon as she felt his lips brush over her temple.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she muttered, pushing up on her toes like being closer to his actual face would make the words mean more. Or like she wanted to make sure she saw his inevitable smile as soon as he processed the words.

Either or, really.

All of it was moot, though, as soon as he bent his knees and her feet weren’t touching the floor anymore, arms slung over his shoulders and fingers carding through his hair and not kissing felt decidedly absurd. She felt his smile anyway.

They’d done this more times than she could count – hallways and those dark corners and their own goddamn bedroom and several dozen NHL arenas – but Emma was sure something flipped in that moment or turned back on and she was running out of energy puns rather quickly.

That was for the best.

Killian tilted his head slightly, tongue moving over her lower lip and fingers drifting dangerously under her shirt. Her toes dragged over the ground, but he didn’t let her back down and certainly didn’t let her fall, another cliché that felt a bit more like a guarantee.

“I love you too,” he whispered, dragging his lips back towards her neck and leaving open-mouthed kisses just behind her ear. “Wasn’t a breakaway though.” “I could not possibly care about that less.” “That’s rather sweeping, love.” “Yeah, I’m good with that. A fan of sweeping and series and it’s only the start of the season.” “This is getting pointed.” “And heavy-handed,” Emma agreed, appreciating whatever he did with his face when she laughed against him. “Plus another rather impressive display of upper-body strengths.” “She’s got to get the genetics from somewhere, right?” “Is that you suggesting I don’t have upper-body strength?” Killian shook his head, another quick kiss that evolved into a much longer kiss and they needed to move out of the middle of the hallway. If only so Emma could remember what gravity felt like. She seemed to have lost it somewhere in the middle of the winning and the screaming kids and the making out.

Mostly the making out.

“I’ve got all the belief in your upper-body strength, Swan,” Killian promised. “A little less in mine after seventeen minutes of ice time, but--” “--Why do you have that memorized?” “Don’t you?” “Obviously,” she said, swatting at his shoulder and rolling her eyes when he caught her around the wrist. “But I had to look at box scores for the site and the season tickets and...what?”

He didn’t blink, clearly breathing through his mouth when the one hand that was still, somehow, under her shirt stilled. Emma gritted her teeth.

And resolutely refused to look at him.

Her balance wasn’t perfect when Killian let her fall back to the ground, twisting against him in a way that, if he weren’t so busy staring at her left wrist, probably would have been way more distracting.

“Surprise,” Emma mumbled, waving her free hand through the air. Killian didn’t let go of her other one.

“Wasn’t that my locker? And...everyone else’s locker?” “That second part was a spur of the moment decision, really. Mostly because Rol and Herny’s sign was a spur of the moment decision and we figured it was the start of a new season and everyone else needed some balloons too.” “How’d you get the balloons into the Garden?” “There was cookie bribery involved.” “Ah, naturally.” Emma nodded, chewing on her lip when he didn’t say anything else and he was going to make her tell him. Stubborn ass. “There was a reason I didn’t have a sign too,” she started. “Although I do think Matt and Pegs would have been very angry if I stepped on their moment.” “Literally in some sign cases,” Killian grinned. He glanced up at her, staring from underneath his eyelashes and, honestly, the universe could suck it. That was absurd.

There was still a bandage on her wrist.

Emma might have been the worst at surprises. That was a disappointing discovery to make in the hallway.

“I think Peg’s going to start running marathons soon.” Killian chuckled, eyes flashing back to her wrist and his thumb had started moving at some point – right where Emma’s laces should have been. “She and I can start offseason training in Riverside Park.” “You say that like you’re not already plotting running routes right now in your head.”

He nodded, a smirk that was, at least partially, the reason for this whole preposterous, ridiculously romantic moment. “Where are your laces, Swan?” “You know that guy on Astor Place remembered me? From the first Cup and matching sets. He asked if I brought any champagne with me.” “Did you?” “Not this time.” “Maybe eventually though.” “Definitely.” “That confidence,” Killian muttered, a note of something that may have been all the reason behind the moment and Emma didn’t think before she pulled back the the edge of the bandage on her skin.

He didn’t say anything immediately, but she could see the muscles in his throat move when he swallowed and his shoulders dropped a bit when he exhaled, like he was getting rid of the weight of several different worlds.

It wasn’t really very big – partially because she was an enormous wimp and partially because she didn’t have time for anything more, but the numbers would be clear even if someone wasn’t looking for them. And even when she, eventually, put her laces back on her wrist.

“Something, something, I really like being able to make you kind of lose your head when I wear your number,” Emma said, thankful to the universe she’d been so intent on cursing earlier that her voice didn’t shake over the words.

Killian’s head snapped up, air rushing out of him and eyes frustratingly blue and there were, exactly, three droplets of water on his right temple. He didn’t try to brush them away. He just kept staring at Emma and she knew she was blushing, but she didn’t blink either, might have even tried to smile and it was all for naught when his lips crashed against hers.

His mumbled I love you felt like it moved into her as soon as he kissed her and it was a ludicrous thought, but Emma had gotten his goddamn number tattooed on her wrist, so she figured it was a reasonable thought in the moment.

And, really, this making out was better than the last one.

She pressed back on her toes, hands with minds of their own and wants of their own and Killian did groan when her hips canted up. They stumbled backwards or forwards and direction didn't matter when Emma’s shoulders collided with the nearest wall, laughing and happy and so incredibly confident she was certain she was made of it.

“It totally worked,” Killian said, another breathless promise in between kisses. There were a questionable number of kisses, and neither one of them heard the coughs or the scoffs or the camera shutters.

They weren’t really trying to hide, anyway.

They’d always been painfully bad at that.

They did, however, notice the two kids yelling their name and running into their bodies and yanking on clothing, neither one of them all that impressed with their parents’ propensity to making out in hallways.

“Goal,” Peggy shouted again, Killian’s eyes getting even wider and Emma shrugged. “I think we’re harping a little, but it’s impressive diction.” “Seriously,” he muttered, bending down to haul her against his side. “That was really good, Pegs. We’ll work on power play next, ok?” Emma scoffed, letting her head fall forward and he’d totally blown off media for this. “That seems like kind of a reach, don’t you think?” “Nah, parents of the year or decade or whatever.” “Decade, for sure.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous, isn’t it?” Robin asked, walking down the hallway with an arm around Roland’s shoulders and Henry a few steps behind. “You going to go back to media, Cap or you just going to suffer Lucas’ wrath later?” “I’ve got no plans to see Lucas, at all later, so that’s totally fine with me.” “Eh,” Emma objected. Matt was trying to talk about the goal again, clearly unimpressed by his sister’s speech patterns if it meant he wasn’t the sole focus of everyone’s attention. “There was apparently kind of a plan.” “And way more balloons uptown,” Will added. They were all, apparently, blowing off media.

“Do we know some kind of balloon supplier?” Killian asked.

“See, you make fun, but I’m fairly positive Gina does and probably glared at them until they gave her some kind of discount rate. Also Anna and Ariel spent a very long time decorating the restaurant today, the least you could do is not be a complete jerk about it.” “Complete jerk, huh?” “There are children present, Cap. Who just witnessed you and Em doing whatever it was you were doing.” “Making out,” Emma said, shrugging again when Will audibly gagged. “Go find your girlfriend, Scarlet.” “That’s what I was trying to do. Because I answered media questions. Because I am the most responsible athlete on this team and I would like the record to show that Cap’s very impressive, emotional goal would not have been possible without me.” “And you wouldn't have taken it if Cap didn’t tell you to get off the blue line last season,” Robin said.

“It was a really good goal,” Matt yelled, bobbing on the balls of his feet again and Emma took Peggy before he could jump at both her and Killian.

“That was only because I got a fantastic scouting report,” Killian grinned. He ignored the several pointed objections around him when he hauled Matt over his shoulder, winking at Emma. “We’ll watch it again later, ok?” “Can’t we do it tonight?”

“Somehow I doubt you’ll be awake that long.” “No!” “We’ll see, kid.” “Can we bet on it?” Will almost fell over. Henry and Roland both appeared to be choking on air.

“Why don’t we wait until after we eat for any money to exchange hands, ok, Mattie?” Emma asked, getting a grumbled agreement that was difficult to understand when spoken into Killian’s shoulder.

“You guys are a picture of responsibility,” Will laughed. “Seriously, Scarlet. Your girlfriend. Or a cab.” “That’s rude, Em. You wound me.” She rolled her eyes, but she was way too happy to actually be annoyed and Matt was talking a mile a minute again. “What did you do?” Emma asked.

Killian winked again. “We’re going to go answer some questions, Swan. That’s all. Five minutes, tops and then we’re spending less than an hour in this restaurant. Deal?” “Deal.” They spent three hours in the restaurant, but only because they kept laughing and posing for pictures and there were FaceTime phone calls to make and goals to reenact and Matt split an entire plate of onion rings with Emma before he, Roland and Henry fell asleep in one booth.

Anna took a picture of it.

And it was probably somewhere close to one in the morning when Emma felt her own eyelids fluttering, head lolling against Killian’s shoulder. Peggy had fallen asleep in the car uptown.

“You ready to go, love?” he asked softly, fingers brushing over the curve of her arm and back towards the side of her wrist.

“Yeah,” Emma whispered. “Let’s go home.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #blue line change #there are now just...a lot of hockey words on the internet

34 notes · View notes

bilgisticallykosher · 6 years

Text

My Scary Past: Sanders Sides

I'm so not going to be able to remember things, I just watched it the once, I'll probably have to edit. Obviously spoilers. How do you do a read more on tumblr mobile?

What's that song Thomas is singing? It's familiar.

YES NOT X-MAS, I've had enough of the songs from work. EVEN MORE YES, HALLOWEEN! This is perfect, because I recently got the horror movie themed Ice Nine Kills CD so I've been super Halloween, it's so good. Ahhh, I mean, I thought they were going to get into the 3 ghosts, which I guess kind of ghosts of Thomas's past? It works.

Oooh, Virgil's costume was great, I know there's a bunch of monster AUs, people came close. I've seen a few mummy Romans, Frankenstein('s monster) Logans, and literally everyone puts Patton as a werewolf. But themed creepy costumes! Amazing! Side note, Roman's puppet chin migrated onto Logan's monster chin. That thing was crazy huge. And I'm really happy that Logan was nitpicking Doctor vs. Monster, I'd expect nothing less.

Speaking of, I'm incredibly shocked that we didn't get Roman and Logan angst focus? And, Virgil was so freaking cringy try-hard with that attempted scare. Not good. Of course, minus the blood, I fairly regularly strike that pose at work. (I work in the kitchen industry as a cook.)

Logan used 2 vocab cards (is receipt a new slang? Really?), a "stupid things" notebook, and a bleeped curse. And he lied so bad about never being scared. Don't lie, Logan, you know what happens...really relieved when he lost most of the face on the costume, I had more trouble seeing his expressions and face lines than I did Roman's. But he dressed up, and got involved in group planning of him dressing up! Development! I loved the group "Yerkes-Dodson!" I wanted that to be a meme for a while, honestly. All that talk about failures inspiring success, HUH, Logan? Definitely not something you could take to, er, brain. Also he smiled at Virgil at the end? Pride for him using knowledge to make a point? For helping them understand? General happy??? At the beginning, he was concerned that Virgil wasn't being scary, so maybe proud that they settled his methods to be effective? Logan being the cosplay phase was appropriate because it's silly, fantasy, and a little bit into the obsessive, which Logan can get into.

Roman! Ugh, wonderful. Nice nicknames, what? Kind of back into a lot of old banter, in a good way. Them having the same face running gag was great, "I'm so modest!" The scream! Mocking Logan is still up, mocking Virgil is still a plateu. Roman being Vine was appropriate because his Creativity bloomed, and also putting himself so front and present definitely invokes ego.

Patton using Kylo Friend was great, it was sort of an in-between, which was accepted because Virgil's a nicknamer. He was trying so hard and his scene with Thomas at the end was good, but you gotta talk directly to Virgil about that, too. You're doing such a good job, and I'm glad that they fully explained why he doesn't want the cutesy stuff. But urgh, pantronize was fine, puns are okay, just not the actual patronizing. And overly long scream? Pawton, yes. Patton being the emo phase was appropriate, because he's so... not emo, but also he's emotions

Virgil, was that NO in the beginning dissonant? I think it was. He was kind of uptight this episode? I mean, obviously, he's a little insecure (aren't they all?) but he seemed so confident last episode, and open to Patton learning, while in this one he was kind of harsh to him. And he literally admitted last time that the scary thing was all an act! I need to see if every time they put down the idea that a phase was scary, was he satisfied or frustrated? Blasé dismissal or interest, until they dismiss what his role used to be. Fascinating that he was in charge of the sort of creative power. Gee, I wonder what dark side is opposite of Roman. /s

When they did the Vine phase, I actually thought to myself, "Well those aren't terrible, except for those vines where he's just singing to himself- oh, yep, that's it." Thomas getting hit again running joke. That's also really harsh, dude, not cool. But love the hiss, even though I can out-hiss him. But, uh, girl phase and fedora phase huh?

End card! Thought he was going to go for Phantom. I know that some people are uncomfortable with him, but I enjoy Deceit, he's such a fun character, although within the universe, ahhh? What? He's talking about the other Dark Sides, maybe. I'm betting the tag was actually Scrappy Doo. That'd amuse me more. Ooh, so creepily foreboding. Also he was still in Patton's normal spot. Interesting. Their relationship is really pretty much what I expected from what I saw at the end of Can Lying Be Good, but maybe Deceit is a little more...dorky. That overdone laugh, haha, wow what a loser. Trying to figure out if the "maybe you can be rid of us all" was a lie via sarcasm or if I've gotta reverse it a little? Idk, really excited for whatever's next, everyone did an amazing job on editing, graphics, so many costumes. What a great team!

But most importantly, PET SPIDER! Yes! Is it supposed to be a real tarantula in-universe or just a fake one that creates webs somehow?

Merry B*tchmas everyone!

#ts spoilers #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders

1 note · View note

divinationcentral · 3 years

Note

Hey! I would like a love reading 😊 I’m single at the moment and I don’t have my eye on anyone, so I’m just looking for some advice and guidance. My question: What can I do to attract love into my life? Can you use the Tarot of Sexual Magic deck? Please. Thank you so much! Hope you have a great day! - Jessica ♍️

Self-love, my friend. Self-love, and self-respect. Lots and lots and lots of it. The more you respect yourself and your desires (about what you want in a person, and don’t bend to the whim of someone else just because they can promise you it) (especially, I take it, in the bedroom!)—you will attract the love you wish.

Let me know if I’m wrong, but I think you’re used the type of dynamic that is a constant push and pull? (like you have to ask, and they won’t tell). If that’s true, you need to guard yourself against these types of people.

The lovers I’m talking about are the people who are inconsistent with their desires and needs for you, and are looking to simply to undermine what a real relationship is. So, they don’t like commitment (for whatever reason), and likely, they lack the capacity for commitment.

So maybe you find yourself chasing them a lot. Cut it. Cut it off and see what happens. You loving yourself is an act of dominance. You need to be at the top of this game right now. Not the other way around.

So, I would just look at the people you’re attracting, and ask yourself: do these people have the qualities that I presume to be in a partner I want? Who is capable of settling down with me?

Now, you might not want marriage or commitment. That’s fine. If you’re just looking for a boyfriend? Or something casual? Your intentions must match up with your actions.

Don’t just say yes to something, because it’ll get you the relationship you think you wanted (especially if you are feeling lonely). Like, you can think there is potential, right—but is there really? Especially when you just meet somebody, you really couldn’t tell that, right? You have to figure a person out and see if they even fit into your lifestyle, for one.

You don’t want obsessive personalities, by the way. These types of people can never give you what you want because you like your independence. Find someone who respects this. Who respects who you are. And especially what you want.

And if it starts off platonic? So be it. A friend(ship) is respectful enough to tell you that they will wait for you, and what you want and when you want it to start. And yes, these types of relationships do exist. :)

You are looking good in this department by the way: I see someone coming into your focus who disguises themselves as a simple friendship (or some kind of role they play in your life is platonic). But they see you as very beautiful. Like I mean drop dead gorgeous beautiful (in their eyes, even if you don’t think this of yourself).

This person is highly attracted to you. I wouldn’t worry about when or if or how they will approach you—you will know. 😊 And you’ll have a lot of fun with this person, too, probably planning lots of great outdoor activities (or just stuff to do in general).

This may be an old friend, by the way! Update me if that’s true. :D

A truth will reveal itself to you either way (you may even ponder about this and get an “ahaa” moment haha). I would prepare yourself to receive this message by saging? Possibly. Your room, yourself, your home. Everything and anything. Lets get rid of all the ghosties first (yes, I do mean any past/or ex energies); they linger too much, because they like you. ☹ These may even be real ghosts (but I hope not, those are pesky).

But you are ready for something substantial – so no more push and pull. They need to mean what they say from here onward (your partners, of course)! So don’t give in. You got enough courage and strength, you aren’t a weak person. At all.

In your next partnership, by the way: trust each other. If you have doubts, talk about them. If you wanna go somewhere—talk to your partner. If you want to change the dynamic? Talk to your partner. Communication is going to be VERY important for you, my friend. PS. if there was infidelity in your past, we have to clear out this energy too. Sometimes, it’s difficult to understand the severity of this in our lives (trust me, I know what it’s like). Broken trust effects all of our relationships, not just the romantic ones. We find it hard to trust ourselves, our intuition, our gut instincts, other people especially. This part of you needs to heal (probably the most important aspect of this reading is right here). Find a way to release this thought process you have, that you can’t trust yourself in a relationship, just because of the one bad person (or even the several others). Or that you can’t trust somebody else, because of that one person (or the several others).

You need to learn to trust yourself again, your decisions in love, and what you want out of a relationship. And be okay with asking for it. Because I feel at some point you had to demand it, and it left you feeling some type of way..(like maybe you didn’t deserve to be treated this way). And maybe a past person left you feeling like you were demanding/controlling, when in fact - it was them who were this way with your feelings.

Let yourself heal that. :) Start by that cleansing. I know it may sound silly, but I swear by it. To start new - we need to first feel new. To attract a lover - there needs to be an open space for them. And so we need to clear the exes/ghosts out quite literally. I would go as far as to say open a space on the couch for the new person, and welcome the energy in - after you cleanse, after you meditate of course (buy yourself a protection pendent if you’re interested, or a love amulet that has double properties: to attract love and to ward off bad energies; I recommend rose quartz as a good starter, and any black stones or hematite for blocking bad energies - do your research, by the way :) I’m not the biggest crystal enthusiast, but you’ll find a lot of people on tumblr smarter than myself, and tons of resources on google~ find a shop nearby you and you can ask there also, any jewelry will do, any cleansing method you can do repeatedly will do).

Do things for yourself, by the way, care for yourself how you would want someone to care for you, and put your vibrational energy at a high rate (because once you’re up there, the only person who can bring you down is yourself - so don’t let someone kill your vibe just cause they’re jealous of you or what you got going on, or simply because they “miss you”). You tell yourself you’re important when you self-care. You deserve better for yourself. I wholeheartedly believe this just by looking at your cards.

Additionally: your next partner may be shy in bed (this may be you as well). Just trust you both will be highly attracted to one another. It won’t be a problem once you get into bed. :) The attraction is going to be monumental, I have to say haha.

#for: Jessica ♍️#asks;

0 notes

kiritokun · 8 years

Text

2016 Anime in Review

Holy hell, if I’m right, this is now my fourth year writing up one of these bad boys. Yep you read that right, I’ve been putting myself through this ritual for four years. Man time flies doesn’t it. You’d think after all this time I’d ask someone to proof read these to make sure I don’t get any silly mistakes in here like usual, but I won’t, cause that’s part of my charm. Lol. Anyways, sorry its a day late, New Years Eve got the better of me.But now, time for the anime! Here are my top 12 in alphabetical order!

Boku dake ga Inai Machi

Oh man, while I did come into this anime late and watched it all in one sitting it was still a wonderfully suspense ride. It was stressful as the episodes went on, but the mystery wasn’t very deep. My assumptions slowly proved correct and how horrible it was to be proven right. While it comes to a relatively peaceful conclusion, it was still tense up to the end, but it was a great ride all the same.

D.Gray-man Hallow

A long awaited sequel to D.Gray-Man. If you had been reading the manga, you were not surprised by the anime at all, and were more than likely pleased that they followed it to the letter. The only real tragic part is that the anime and manga are basically caught up and we have no more of this wonderful series to watch or read. Its terrible considering where we are is the most intense and suspenseful part of the series yet and so many questions are open that need answers.

Dimension W

A sleeper hit for me, but one I am glade I watched. It was a thrilling ride, packed with action, story telling, and beautiful visuals. If you are into action and conspiracy with a twist of sci-fi and retro-fitting, you are in luck since that is what this series literally is all about. If the art isn’t your cup of tea give it a few episodes before you give it up, because beneath that is an amazing world and narrative that leads up to a relatively satisfying end.

Durarara!!x2 Ketsu

Now, last year I wasn’t able to give a spot to Durarara because it wasn’t that great the first two seasons, but its final season this year was the climax to those two seasons and man oh man was it a wonderful showing. Everything wraps up, the action kicks off into high gear, all the psychopaths in this show start clashing, and good ol’ Mikado is far off the deep end. It was a wonderfully twisted season that redeemed the rough start of the two first seasons, by showing us why all the set up was needed in the end to understand everything.

Hai to Gensou no Grimgar

Oh Grimgar, you brutal mistress, you made death such a real and painful threat real quickly. You were hated for your slow pacing and the fact that the characters were “weak”. But in reality Grimgar was a much more real interpretation on if you drop someone into a “game” world; they will not quickly pick up fighting. It will take time and effort to become competent enough to survive and make a living as a “monster” slayer. I for one found this approach to the genre very refreshing, and while it started to show that old trope of “here’s the limit break” at the end, it wasn’t in an overtly obvious fashion. So while many scorned you, I enjoyed you to the fullest Grimgar.

Kiznaiver

Here’s the thing, Kiznaiver was a great anime. The story was fantastic, the music was grand, the animation and art direction was top notch, it was all very good. But the problem I still have with it is that they crammed this new girl bullshit down our throats. Now I got some shit for saying that in my prior review on the series, since Agata knew Sonozaki for longer since they knew each other as kids. But that was a short period during the Kizna beginning trials. It’s shown that Chidori has known Agata longer. God damn it. I’m tangenting again. Kiznaiver, great anime, hated the pairing finale.

Kono Bijutsubu ni wa Mondai ga Aru!

KonoBitsu is honestly one of my favorite animes this year, if not my favorite, normally the bias isn’t so clear, but this was just a really fun anime for me to watch. The art was beautiful, the story was nice and lighthearted, and the characters were all well written and executed. Sure they tug us around with if the two mains will get together, but it’s a short anime, it wasn’t gonna give us a resolution when the manga itself hasn’t either. (Though I want that resolution so bad, come on Usa-chan deserves it.)

Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku wo!

Man, KonoSuba… What a shit show. Not a bad shit show mind you! It was just a chaotic ride of glory. While I just thought it was neet going to op savior of fantasy world, it quickly goes to neet goes to neet with adventurer title, level up nerd. This gave it such a unique flavor to this dense genre that it stood out as a shining beacon of glory and hilarity. I swear the sobs this anime brought out from me due to oxygen deprivation are the closest I ever came to fainting from laughter. Thanks KonoSuba, you were great.

Netoge no Yome wa Onnanoko ja Nai to Omotta?

I knew from the moment I started watching this anime that it was gonna be good. The premise was hilarious. I love the MMO scene personally. Art style was also right down my strike zone. Story might have seemed to go nowhere but that’s slice of life for you.

New Game!

New Game was a great anime series. As a manga adaptation it can be a scary time waiting for it to come out. But it came out and was a very faithful adaptation; the art style was perfectly in sync with the manga style, overall a wonderful slice of life experience.

Occultic;Nine

I just talked about Occultic;Nine in my fall roundup, but that series was a wonderful brain twister. Most people say it had pacing issues. And I’ll agree that it would have probably benefited from getting two cours, it was still a great series that was expecting you to keep up. I’m glad to have watched it and hope the cold reception toward it changes.

Rewrite

As I’ve said before, I haven’t played the visual novels so to me Rewrite seemed fine, especially since it is getting another season which I expect will clarify some of the outstanding questions that season 1 left. And if not, well my opinion my change on the series after that. But as it stands, I enjoyed what I got.

HONORABLE MENTIONS- We are going back to honorable mentions this year instead of just me rambling about the rest of the anime I watched this year because I have been doing the quarterly reviews per season of anime and rounding up my impressions on everything I watch there. So if you want a bit more depth or whining look for those on my tumblr by looking for the anime roundups.

Fate/kaleid liner Prisma Ilya 3rei!!

As I’ve said before, Ilya was a glorious seasonal anime this year. It struck hard and fast and it was quite a brutal story as it made a little girl decide between the world or her friend. Not cool world. Reason it didn’t make it to the top anime of the year was because it was a sequel and other things seemed more worthy

Gakusen Toshi Asterisk 2nd Season

In all senses the second season of Gakusen was better than the first. It got rid of the handicaps the first season was full of and it made for a great watch. That being said, it wasn’t revolutionarily different from season 1.

Gate: Jieitai Kanochi nite, Kaku Tatakaeri 2nd Season

Less humor, more action, more drama. It goes from a funny journey in a fantasy world to a harsh reality of what would happen if earth got their hands on another planet or world and had to dispute how to divide said place and how to deal with the inhabitants. Same reason as Gakusen for being here, just a sequel and other things were better or more deserving.

World Trigger

World Trigger was almost in the top 12 list, but then fucking that anime original arc struck and it was very very bad and soured the entire anime series for me. Other than that the anime was okay.

And there you have it. Another year, another list. I have absolutely no clue what I’m watching in a few weeks, been too busy with the holidays too look. I think Rewrite season 2 hits this Jan so I’ll be watching that for sure. Otherwise I gotta go look. Maybe I’ll do that now! Anyways, see you around March-April when the season ends!

5 notes · View notes

sanguinesprout · 7 years

Text

It’s now or never, let’s goooo~~!! (aka. semi-serious, encouraging-ish intro post of sorts) ☆ [Repost 160417]

Hmm, alrighty *pretends to crack knuckles* let’s go lil fingers that are currently really cold, do your stuff! Just do it hurgh! ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ

I’ve always wanted to make a blog, to just have a space of my own where I could just write out my feelings and post things of my own creation, but my gloomy little avoidant mind kept deciding it wasn’t such a good idea and prevented it from actually materialising. A blog like this is so common but in my mind it was such a big deal, something that could potentially end up going wrong somehow and cause me more anguish. Seeing other people being able to write freely made me feel sorrowful and envious of the courage they have. Ultimately I felt more and more pathetic and ashamed of myself for being so afraid of something so ordinary. This is just one example that shows the extent my avoidance and recently acknowledged paranoia (which I’m gonna totally kick the butt of!! ☆)

I decided a long while back that I no longer wanted to see things in a negative light, so now I try my best to see the good side of things and take inspiration from others instead of instantly feeling demoralised or inferior and it has proven to be much more motivational and uplifting ♡ There has literally been years and years of me desiring to do things with no actual action and I don’t want to put any of it off anymore. There just isn’t any reason to, and this goes for a lot of the things in my life too!

I created this account over a year ago and I spent a long time trying to encourage myself and give myself the time I needed to psych up to use it. It takes so much mental effort just to get myself moving, and only one small negative criticism or experience to have me falling back to square one again. My motivation levels always fluctuated because of my reoccurring fears and lack of confidence. When I finally thought I was mentally prepared enough, it all plummeted into the depths of darkness due to the onslaught of old and new physical health problems. But I am stronger than I think and these things won’t hold me back anymore! I won’t be beat so easily, I can keep fighting hoohah!! ᕙ (;｀⊥ ＾★)┐

This isn’t my first attempt at a blog or tumblr account, in fact it’s my third one, the previous ones poofed when real life got too difficult and I lost the motivation try keep up with the fandoms which I sat awkwardly reblogging a few things from. Being in a fandom was nice to experience, but at the same time uncomfortable and anxiety inducing as I never felt like I could truly fit in. I didn’t want to impose the misery of my real life on anyone nor force myself even more to pretend to be okay when I wasn’t, so I chose to just disappear. This being the case on some other similar occasions also and is such an avoidant thing to do, but at the time it gave me some relief and I hoped to re-appear someday when I got better but it just... it didn’t happen and I eventually had to give up on that idea. I also kept thinking they would probably resent me and that it would be awkward because our common interest was lost because I fell behind. I worry that I was just being selfish and taking an easy but inconsiderate way out and feel very regretful but I guess it has also presented me with opportunities to try refocus myself and learn from my mistakes.

I've become very aware of the impact of my avoidant habits and paranoid behaviour even more in the recent years and naturally, as they are neither healthy nor beneficial, I wish to do away with them as much as possible. I’ve always had an inkling my irrational fears and thoughts were not just those of social anxiety and when I stumbled upon the existence of AVPD I had a total epiphany, much like many other people I’ve read about. Seeing how I wasn’t alone in how I felt is relieving but knowing they are also suffering so much is too painful of a realisation. I want to help them but I feel I can’t because I have trouble even helping myself and everything just hurts so much.

Someday... someday soon I will break out of my bubble of sorrow and I’ll scatter sunshine and sparkles over all these rain clouds and make rainbows appear instead, I believe in myself, I believe I can do it! ✧*。ヾ(｡･∀･｡)ﾉﾞ✧*。

That was pretty cheesy and random, my bad lol but so is this~ I came across the word ‘sanguine’ recently and it really stuck in my mind. It means ‘optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation’ (or can mean ‘blood red’ also lolol). That’s the kind of person I want to be or the mindset I want to have (not red coloured and ideally without the bad situations too but I guess it doesn’t quite fulfil its meaning then and well beggars can’t be choosers anyways haha~).

Anyways, I’m at the point in time where I see I need to change now or be forever regretful and continue to feel like a burden to myself and others around me. I want to break out of this unhealthy cycle and move forward with confidence. I feel like I’ve lost part of who I really am, after all these years of being unsure, pretending and restricting myself to conform to the idea that I had to be a certain way to be liked and to the demons in my mind telling me I’m worthless, undeserving and weird, because... I’m not! (ﾉ≧ڡ≦) ☆ ...well maybe I am kinda... pretty darn weird, but it’s okay to be different!

I just want to be myself and I want to be happy. I want my loved ones to not be worried, to see me move out of my slump, to have someone they can finally be proud of and someone who can help them when needed, because although they may have contributed towards my avoidant personality, I love them and I want to see them happy and stress free too.

Time is precious and although I feel I have wasted a lot of it with all of my inaction, frustration and failures, there is still time to make things right. I want to look to the future and enjoy life, because (as much as the phrase irked me initially, it’s been super useful and true) YOLO!! ☆ I mean maybe there is another life but who knows what I’ll be then. I don’t think I could accomplish much as a cucumber or a snail. (Ooh my! That gives me an idea for something artsy fartsy! :D)

Making small progress is much better than none at all, so I’m going to try hard to keep moving up, keep being positive, proactive and productive! (Look at all them p's alliteration whoooo~!! Someone give me a gold star lol, it feels like I’ve written an essay and it was actually a little less stressful than a real one too hurr :B)

I feel somewhat proud of myself that I’ve already made progress even though I may not have been recording it here. Seeing the benefits it’s had on my general health and mood is a nice feeling and my motivation levels are continuing to increase from knowing that I can really make a change. It’s the fear from irrational thoughts that prevent you from going ahead, but once you stop to take the time to rationalise them, you’ll feel much more assured and motivated. Never forget that every bit of progress no matter how small or insignificant it may seem deserves a pat on the back! Reinforce the good feelings and behaviour, not the bad! Even if it seems terrible now, there’s always tomorrow and there’s the great big future ahead to be looking forward to! C:

Avpd is so awkward, geez... I wouldn’t even wish AVPD on even my worst enemy (well AVPD is one of my worst enemies so it wouldn’t work anyways unless it’s that thing where two negatives cancel each other out and become a positive lol).

It’s so strange, sometimes when I write I can’t tell if I am writing like myself or someone else..? I think maybe because I don’t write often, I forget that I can write something other than jokey informal things (which is closer to how I talk). Talking and writing is different though, so I guess it makes sense yoooo~! I can’t spend too long being serious, it brings on those unwanted dreary and negative feels, I don’t want to feel melancholy anymore ._.

Before I started writing this post I wrote the about page for my blog and actually struggled with it quite a bit. One of my main goals is to just have the courage to just put myself out there and not feel ashamed, I really hope to get over this asap as it bothers me so much. It’s no exciting piece of literature of course but I’m happy I was able to do it and be satisfied with it. It was a load of incomprehensible waffling at first and I got sidetracked from writing the simple things I initially wanted to, but I edited the unnecessary parts away. It was nice to finally write a slice of my feelings down and something truthful about myself and at first it felt like a waste getting rid of some of it, but I think I’ll probably save those words for future creative inspo so that worked out okay too. I kept catching myself stepping into the negative thought zone, but I’m glad I noticed and removed it in the end because it was unneeded. That’ll teach mr.snarkypants negative mind not to mess with me! (╯°Д°）╯︵/(.□ . \)

I have lots of other things I want to write and say but I’ll save them for another time as this is getting much lengthier than I wanted it to be, but better out than in I guess, no one likes trapped thoughts or mind constipation amirite..? *crickets chirp*. By writing this, I managed to encourage myself a little more and even give myself some inspiration and creative direction, woot! I just need to keep it up! I won’t let myself be afraid to write about my fears anymore, I’ll rationalise all that is irrational and I’ll pour my true feelings into this blog, with a dash of silliness and rainbows ♡

Everything is easy in theory when just spoken or written, but I know it’ll be difficult to actually put in practice. There is still doubt and negativity lingering in my mind of course, but for now motivation for change is at the forefront. I feel as though maybe I’ve come across as naively optimistic here, but even if I don’t get the exact result I want, at least I tried and that in itself is a great improvement. I just don’t want to give up so easily this time, I don’t want to fall into the spiral of hopelessness I’ve entered many times before and I don’t want anyone else to either. Negativity will have no power over me anymore! (*｀皿´*ﾉ)ﾉ ⌒ ●~*

I spent way to long writing, re-reading and editing this, worrying about spelling/grammar when normally I don’t even grammar, I love engrish~! lol (selective perfectionism, if that’s a thing? If so, stop hassling me!). I also wonder if it’s disjointed and incoherent or if I come across as a bad or foolish person... I need to stop worrying so much over silly insignificant things too, like even where to put the read more cut was an overly arduous task and I still feel iffy about it, but just saw tumblr automatically cuts them to stop clutter lol. All in all I just hope my writing makes some sense, my brain was beginning to get cobwebs, so it was good to get the cogs moving again since I hadn’t sat down and written for so long heh. My attempts at being humorous, fancy and poetic need work though for sure haha~

If I don’t post this now, I’ll keep hesitating and back out, like I’ve always been doing, okay okay imma do it! *presses button with eyes closed and accidentally deletes it all* (huh damn my post didn’t showing up in the tags, must be cause I haven’t used this account properly yet... how anti-climatic, oh welp it’s not like I actually wanted someone to read this or anything, b-baka! orz)

To anyone that happens to come across this and actually read it and found it a little interesting or relatable, thank you and hopefully it’ll give a little insight into the type of blog this is and the oddity person that resides here~! If you didn’t read any of it and just think I’m a strange-ass alien, it’s okay too lol! But thanks for taking your time to look anyways~ ^^

I hope everyone can find the confidence and resolve to be themselves (if needed) and be happy! Keep going, you got this, you can do it! *hugs and sprinkles of optimism* *ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊ ♡

0 notes