#was this inspire by my inability to ice skate? yes.

[deiliamedlini]

Slipping on Ice

Summary: Link is forced to take his little sister Aryll ice skating at 7am, and they suddenly have to share the rink.

~Modern Zelink AU ~

Word count: 4644

Or read on Ao3!

~~

“Link, you missed the turn!”

Aryll sat forward from the backseat and tried to point frantically at the road, only for the seatbelt to lock and send her backwards. There were several loud clicks, and she closed her eyes in defeat before Link could say a single smart word, because now she was stuck with the seatbelt completely trapping her.

“Can I fix my seatbelt?”

“No. We’re almost there. Suck it up.”

“You’re mean!” she groaned, leaning her head on the window.

Link glanced at her in the rearview mirror before making a U turn into the near-empty parking lot.

He leaned his head back against the hard headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t promised his mother that he’d do anything if she let him go to a party over the weekend. He was 18, he shouldn’t even need to ask permission anymore.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!!” Aryll chanted, shaking the driver’s seat with her little hands.

“One day, Aryll, you’ll actually want to sleep in, and then I’ll wake you up to drag you somewhere stupid.”

“Nowhere is stupid!” she countered, whipping her door open and leaning against the window to eerily peer at him.

Glancing at the clock, he rolled his eyes. It was 6:58am and here he was spending the first day of his week-long vacation taking Aryll ice-skating. He double checked his wallet to make sure the 30 rupees his mother had given him were still there and then reluctantly dragged himself from the car.

Aryll was bursting with excitement, bouncing up and down as her plush coat swished with every excited move she made. She pulled her gloves from her pocket—her favorites that had seagulls on them despite the cold—and fiddled to get her fingers in as she stared into the glass door, waiting for whoever to unlock the doors.

Link, on the other hand, was miserable. He was so tired. He wasn’t one of those people who could function with a coffee and just 4 hours of sleep, so he closed his eyes for the next two minutes while leaning against the metal handrail. It didn’t feel cold; everything was cold. Why Aryll wanted to go to an indoor ice rink was beyond him, but he didn’t really care whether it was indoor, outdoor, or on the moon: he didn’t want to go.

“Fix your hat, Link,” she said to him, tapping on her own. She made a twisting motion.

Feeling for the emblem of the Rito Fliers on his knit hat, he pulled it off and retied his sloppily thrown-in ponytail before returning the hat so that the emblem was back in the center.

Finally, the employee came up to the door and stared at Link with equally weary eyes. Link didn’t recognize him, but honestly, he could have been at the party too, given his age and his general disposition that seemed ready to just die a little bit.

He let out a heavy sigh and unlocked the door.

Aryll didn’t even give him enough time to get out of the way before she’d accosted him.

“Hi! One adult and one child please! And we’ll need to rent skates!”

“I’m not skating,” Link muttered, grabbing the rupees. If he could avoid the skate rental and the admission fee, he could pocket the rest of the rupees.

Aryll glared at him as though he’d just told her that he’d killed her best friend. “You’re skating with me, or I’ll tell mom and dad that you didn’t. I’ll call them right now!”

Grimacing, Link handed over the rest of the rupees and told the man their sizes before turning toward Aryll’s smug expression. “No one wants to be friends with a dirty rat, you know.”

“I’m not dirty. And I haven’t told anyone yet, so I’m not technically a rat either.”

“No one wants to be friends with a smart mouth.”

“At least I’m smart.”

He made a face and leaned heavily against the counter until the guy returned with their skates. Link took them while Aryll bolted through the doors and into the rink.

It was freezing.

The chill hadn’t been enough to wake him up, but it was enough to make him a bit more alert. He looked around the deserted room, his footsteps echoing in the silence and making him more self-conscious than he already was about being here. What if Mipha saw him here? Would she laugh at him for his inability to skate? Would she make fun of him for spending the first day of his vacation with his little sister? Would she even notice he was there?

Not that any of that mattered. Mipha was dating Revali.

It was just a crush. On the most popular girl in school. Who was also gorgeous. But he’d never even said three words to her, so why would she care if he was here anyway?

“Hey! Link! Come on! Give me my skates!”

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, he descended the stairs and tossed Aryll’s skates in front of her.

“Rude.”

“That’s for making me actually skate and blackmailing me.”

“I’ve seen you skate, Link. If you can even call it skating. It’s more like shuffling.”

“Shut up.”

Aryll grinned while she slid into her skates, testing them out before heading to the door onto the ice.

“Hey, wait!” Link called, gesturing to the spot in front of him.

“What?”

Link set his shoes down and knelt on the ground. “Put your foot up. It’s like mom never taught you to tie shoes.”

Groaning, Aryll threw her head back and set her skate against Link’s leg so he could retie it. The force that he pulled at the strings had her jerking back in surprise, and nearly toppling over, but she kept her balance and watched Link as he knotted the laces a few times. Admittedly, it did feel like a better fit when he was done.

“Other one.”

He shook his head as he pulled the loose strings. “Honestly, I thought you knew what you were doing.” He pulled the laces and Aryll swayed again.

“I do! I’m just… not the best shoe-tier.”

Satisfied, he patted the side of her foot. “Okay; go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute. But you know you’re kind of on your own, right?”

“Oh, I know!” she laughed, finally gliding onto the ice with an ease that Link was reluctant to admit he envied.

He put his own skates on slowly, glancing up every now and then to make sure Aryll hadn’t cracked her head open or anything terrible like that. He’d have no idea how to get to her if something happened, but she had been adamant that her classes made her good enough to know how to fall and how to jump and how to glide.

No one else knew how to ice skate, so sending Link was as good as sending anyone else with her. Plus, despite their occasional snippiness, Link would protect Aryll with his life, and their parents knew that enough to trust him alone with her at an ice rink. He’d find a way onto that ice faster than someone could call an ambulance.  

Link let out a deep breath again and set his phone inside his shoe before standing up. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered. He could do this, for sure.

That attitude went out the window the second his first skate hit the ice.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, already unsteady with one foot still on land. Land? Is that what it was called now?

“Sound carries in here!” Aryll chided, swishing by him tauntingly.

He waited until she was on the opposite side of the rink before clutching the boards for dear life, throwing his other foot over and slipping like was… on ice, he supposed. His feet couldn’t stabilize, and it was all up to his arms to hold him up until he managed to regain his balance.

Sliding his hand along the boards, he pulled himself as far as he could until the plexiglass took over, and he was forced to slide his fingers into the narrow gap for any grip.

He hadn’t lifted his legs yet, but he was where the net would be in hockey, so he let go for a second and glanced back at Aryll. “Better than you thought I could do, huh?”

She skated up to him and then turned herself backwards, judging him with her arms across her chest as she disappeared.

“Critic,” he muttered, trying to lift his foot. He could only manage to get his right off the ground, and he kept trying to dig the front of his skate into the ice to push himself forward, because that’s what everyone in those videos Aryll made him watch with her last night did. He managed a shuffle, and every time he felt himself going, he grabbed for that little spot under the glass to steady himself, and then dragged himself along.

“You really suck,” Aryll said on her next pass.

“Hey! Language! You’re like, five!”

“I’m not five!” she called back. It was a running joke between them because Link needed to do math to figure out Aryll’s age. He always had to subtract six years from his own age to figure hers out, but she still seemed younger to him. Maybe she’d always be that way just because he was the oldest. Maybe, she’d be in her thirties one day and Link would still think she was a teenager.

It took a long time and several taunts from Aryll, but Link made it around the whole rink once, while Aryll had probably circled it nearly two hundred times. He’d gone around again, but he was stopped, watching Aryll practice her jumps when he heard the echo of footsteps entering the rink.

It was a public place, he knew, but they’d gone early to avoid people, not to share.

But wow, any semblance of annoyance he had disappeared when he saw the girl hurrying down the steps with a gym bag slung over her shoulder.

She had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, and really that was all Link could see from that distance, but he did have a thing for blondes, and that was all he needed to feel an instant infatuation. But of course, his nerves shot up tenfold because now there was a hot blonde who’d watch him not know how to skate and probably fall on his ass.

He dragged himself around a bit more, trying to just keep his eyes on his feet instead of on her, but he was a sucker and glanced up.

She was watching Aryll with a fond smile on her face before she stood up and moved onto the ice.

Link shivered while he looked her over. She had a loose short-sleeved shirt on, her sports bra straps showing on her shoulders, and she was in a pair of leggings that hugged her a little too perfectly. He groaned to himself. She had to be hot. Physically, not temperature wise because honestly, she looked like she might be pretty cold.

After pulling himself along a little more—and then trying to shuffle his feet rather than drag himself like he was trying to lead a stubborn horse—he needed to pause to rest. So, he watched Aryll and the girl skate around the rink.

The girl neared him as she was making a turn around the rink, like a warmup, and smiled shyly at him when she noticed his gaze on her.

Shit. She probably didn’t want to be watched just as much as he didn’t. And Goddess, her eyes had been so green they’d nearly made him do a double take. But no! No double takes! She didn’t want to be watched!

It wasn’t until he heard Aryll’s loud “Whoa!” that he looked back out, clutching the boards again as he whipped his head and lost his balance. He expected to see Aryll on the ground, but she was just watching the other girl in awe. And honestly, so was Link.

She was spinning, but not like a normal person. Her arms were tucked against her chest and she spun like those people on the television who competed for medals and awards.

Her arms went out gracefully as she ended it like it was no big deal. Like she didn’t look like someone had just perfectly spun a coin.

She smiled at Aryll, and Goddess above, her smile was gorgeous and inviting and why did she have to be here?

The girl then leaped, some sort of near perfect split in the air before landing and sending Aryll another grin.

“How do you do that?” Aryll asked.

“Aryll!” Link called, chastising her. “Let the lady practice in peace.”

“No, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with you,” she said, stopping just in front of him.

Oh, she was so much prettier up close: freckles that scattered along her face, her long hair tied back into a much better ponytail than his own, glowing skin, impressive muscles. And she wasn’t too bad in the… no, he had to keep his eyes up! Only to be captured in her green ones. Expectant.

“What?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer from him, but entirely forgetting the question.

“I don’t want to talk to her or help her out if you’re not okay with it. That’s all. You are with her, right?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking at Aryll’s clear eavesdropping expression as she pretended to be distracted, though her eager face gave her away. “Yeah, go ahead. She likes all that… spinning stuff.”

The girl bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at ‘spinning stuff.’ Goddess, he was stupid. What a stupid thing to say to someone who clearly knows what they’re doing.

He kept shuffling, trying in earnest now to block out their conversation so he could focus on the simple task of going forward.

His attention was torn between making sure Aryll wasn’t being kidnapped and wondering how he’d ever cross the rink to save her if she was. But all he saw was the girl demonstrating something before Aryll tried it, and the girl’s face lit up as she clapped in encouragement.

The entrance of the rink was back in his sight, so he was less concerned about watching Aryll and more focused on his feet.

Which is why he didn’t see the girl until she was right in front of him.

“You should move away from the boards and look up rather than at your feet. It’ll help.”

Even her voice was gorgeous. Goddess above…

“I’ll fall,” he said simply, his hand still on the board.

“Yeah. You have to fall.”

“You haven’t fallen and you’re doing all those… spins. So I don’t think that logic works.”

The girl skated backwards in front of him. “Do you really think I haven’t fallen?”

“No, of course not,” he muttered. Someone who was that good had to have learned through a few spills over the years.

“Then trust me. Look up and get away from the boards. Stop worrying about falling.”

She skated back over to Aryll, demonstrating something else for his sister to try.

With their attention diverted, he pushed away from the boards and kept his eyes on the wall straight ahead.

And promptly felt his skates slide away from him, wide and uneven, throwing him entirely off balance until he hit the ice with a hard thud.

Knowing that both their eyes were on him now, he tried to get to his feet quickly, but that only ended with him slipping and hitting his chin on the ground. So, face burning with utter embarrassment, he rested his forehead against his arm so he could scream internally for a hot second before trying again.

When he looked up, the girl was crouched down in front of him. “Do you need help?”

He could either: stay on the ice like a flattened pancake, or let the hot girl realize that he really is an embarrassment for being unable to get to his own feet.

Looking back at her, he was struck by how she didn’t smile. She wasn’t laughing at him, or enjoying his pain. She wasn’t pitying him either. She just looked… like this was normal.

“Y-yeah,” he found himself saying, taking her outstretched hand.

He shuddered at the contact of her skin on his. She helped him flip onto his stomach and then to his knees before she pulled him up. “Is this your first time skating?”

Lie, or tell the truth?

Something about her wide, earnest green eyes had him sucking up his pride. “No, I just suck.”

“Everyone sucks at the beginning. Once you get it, you’ll be flying like the Rito,” she laughed, tapping the emblem on his hat. Then she blushed furiously, her whole face turning a shade of pink as she let go of his hand and moved backwards. “Sorry. Personal space issues sometimes when I’m on the rink.”

“No, it’s okay,” he muttered, unable to get his voice any louder. His hands were out to steady himself, but he slipped again, landing on his knee.

This time, she did smile, but it was soft and she held her hand out again.

“Your sister could teach you. She said she’s been taking skating lessons for a while.”

Scoffing harshly, Link shook his head and glanced at Aryll, who was blissfully making loops around the rink, unconcerned with them. But he took her hand again.

This time, she didn’t let go. She shook it. “I’m Zelda.”

He glanced at their clasped hands and raised his eyebrows, shocked that she was even telling him her name. “Link.”

She gave him a tug before letting go of him, letting him coast in the momentum. “So, you… um… go to school around here?”

He looked back at his feet so they didn’t get away from him, but he heard Zelda tsk, so he looked back at her. “Yeah. I’m in my last year at Faron High.”

Her smile broadened. “I’m in my last year at Labrynna!”

Hot, kind, and his own age.

Link took her in, suddenly feeling guilty; as much as he wanted to fall again just so she’d offer her hand one more time, he didn’t know her. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. Thanks for helping.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, glancing at Aryll for a while. “I’m always here, so it’s nice to have a different morning. And I like meeting new people.”

And just like that, the guilt faded away from him. “Always here? You a professional skater?”

“Not professional,” she said, offering her hand again. “I’ve done competitions.”

This time, he didn’t know why she was offering, so he hesitated before getting sucked in by her genuine smile. She tugged him again and he started to glide with her again.

He chuckled and kept his eyes off his feet. “You good at it?” Zelda raised an eyebrow, so he quickly waved his hands. “I-I mean, you looked incredible, but anyone who can move forward deserves a medal in my eyes. So, my comparisons aren’t great.”

Zelda bit her lip and shrugged. “I’ve done well.”

That, Link knew, was code for ‘yes, I’m very good,’ but from someone far humbler than himself.

After checking on Aryll, Zelda nodded to herself as she looked over Link. “You’re doing better already.”

“I am?” he asked, glancing at his feet.

Which, of course, sent him lurching forward until he hit the ice.

Zelda giggled this time, covering her mouth to try to stifle it. “I’m sorry! I threw off your focus!”

Link groaned and made it halfway to his feet before taking her hand this time. Well, he was getting better at falling anyway.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, she held out her other hand. “I can help keep you balanced so you can try moving your feet.”

One more hit, and Link was sure he’d wake up from this dream. Because what was even happening right now?

Well, if this was a dream, might as well go for it. And if it wasn’t… what could he do that’s more embarrassing than he’d already done?

So, he took her hand.

She pulled him with her for a moment before gesturing to his feet. “You should try… you know… skating.”

“Right,” he said, admittedly holding her a little tighter as he tried to push off the ice but stumbled.

She steadied him, but before he knew it, she was clicking her tongue at him again. “Link, stop looking at your feet.”

The sound of his name on her lips had his head jerking up far faster than he meant to. He was like an eager puppy, and he knew it.

Once they’d gone around a little more, Zelda loosened her grip. “I’m going to let go. Keep going. You’re doing really good.”

He blew out some air as she released him, and his arms shot out to his sides to keep him steady. But he was doing it. He was going forward.

He couldn’t help the triumphant little laugh that escaped from his lips.

“So, you’re not hopeless after all!” Aryll said as she skated beside him. “It’s taken him forever to figure this out! I even tried to show him videos yesterday.”

Defensive, Link glared at Aryll. “I tried to do it their way. But I couldn’t figure out the toe thing.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow again. “Toe thing?”

“Yeah, they kept pushing off with their toe or something, but I can’t get it.”

Goddess, Zelda was perfect, because she lifted her foot up to show off her skate while still skimming backwards in front of him. “This thing?” she asked, pointing to a sharp barb looking thing in the front of the blade.

“Yeah, they pushed off with that, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

Zelda laughed again as she set her foot down. “These are for figure skating. The ones you have on are for hockey. No toe pick. They’re different.”

“They are?” he asked, trying—and failing—to get a good look at his own skates. “I thought they were all the same.”

“They’re not,” she said, her cheeks pinching her eyes with her smile. “You know, you’ve been skating this whole time without falling.”

“It’s a miracle,” Aryll muttered.

Link turned to her with a glare. “You’d better watch it, because when I get really good, I’m going to pick you up and throw you across the ice, and you better know how to stick that landing or you’ll end up on your ass.”

“First off, language,” Aryll huffed. “Second off, that sounds fun, so go ahead.”

He scoffed and playfully pushed her, though it did little more than throw him off balance for a moment. And when he looked up, he could see that people were starting to come into the rink quickly.

Zelda sighed and watched them with a sad expression. “I know them. They always just completely take over the ice. It’s a pain.”

Link finally stopped moving when he saw who it was. Mipha, Revali, and their friends were laughing boisterously as they took their seats in the bleachers to get their skates on.

Zelda looked between them and Link. “Do you know them?”

“Kind of. They go to my school, but we don’t talk.”

Zelda stared at them, specifically at Mipha, before muttering to herself. “Wow. She’s really pretty. I’d kill to look like her.”

Looking Zelda  over, Link was glad that Aryll had taken a turn around the rink without them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the courage to say anything if she’d been around as his audience.

“I know a stranger’s opinion isn’t worth anything but… personally, I prefer blondes.”

Whipping around, an incredulous look on her face, Zelda lost her balance and fell back onto the ice. She barely seemed like she noticed, pulling her legs up to her so she could stare open mouthed at Link until she regained her composure.

Her face was bright red, and she couldn’t quite meet Link’s eyes as she laughed to herself. But finally, she worked up to it and her gaze had him pinned.

“Yeah, I do too.”

Link nodded nervously before he started to chuckle and held his hand out to help her up.

She took it as a courtesy, but got up on her own so she didn’t pull him down when he’d spent so long getting his balance.

This time, when their hands lingered too long, the energy between them was palpable, and both of them were blushing.

Aryll skated up to them. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Windy’s?”

Link glanced apologetically at Zelda, and she followed them back to the gate, watching as they both pulled at the laces in much the same aggressively impatient manner. It had her grinning.

“You know,” she said when Link stood up. “I’m here at 7:30 whenever there isn’t school. I’ll be here tomorrow, if Aryll would like some more help.”

Her eyes were distinctively flirty, and Link was beyond glad that Aryll was still too young to recognize it, because she gasped in excitement. “Can we, Link?”

He didn’t look at Aryll, too entranced by Zelda’s blatant invitation. “We’ll ask mom, but if she says you can, I’ll bring you. If not… I might just come here alone.” His lips tipped up, and he prayed that the red in his cheeks and down his neck just looked like it was from the cold.

“No fair! But mom will say yes if you’re bringing me so she can go back to sleep!”

Link didn’t even realize how awake he’d become since Zelda came into the rink.

Zelda pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ears that had come free in her fall. “Okay then. I’ll see you both tomorrow. For lessons.”

Aryll beamed. “Maybe you can come for lunch with us tomorrow?”

Zelda bit her lip and looked over at Link, who was now staring at the floor so she couldn’t see his expression. But she thought he was cute when he was nervous. “Link? What do you think?”

Forced to look up at her, he knew she could see how eager he was to just straight out say yes. It was all over his face, and burning in his eyes. “If you’d like to,” he said carefully. “I have no objections.” He finished sliding his normal shoes back on before standing up.

“Okay. I look forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow Aryll. Link.”

He stepped forward, a little too close to where she leaned on the board. “Zelda.”

Her mouth dropped into a smile as he used her name for the first time.

Link patted Aryll’s shoulder to lead her up the stairs before taking one more look behind him at Zelda.

They were halfway up the steps when Link pointed to Aryll. “Do not tell mom that there is a pretty girl involved.”

But Aryll smiled. “Your voice carries, Link.”

Spinning around on the stairs, he saw Zelda beaming as she giggled. But she—thankfully—pushed off the board and twirled once before skating away, her eyes on them until she no longer could see where they stood.

And when Link glanced at Mipha as they passed, and he felt that his infatuation with her had faded to near nothing from the time he’d gotten out of the car to the time he got into it once again. He knew he was doomed. because the only one on his mind now was Zelda.

He’d never been more excited to set an early alarm.

[bluejae640]

Into the spiderverse inspired me...(slight spoilers)

Have you ever had a dream where you could do something superhuman?  Perhaps flying through the sky, the wind rushing through your hair? The adrenaline rush is like no other, and it brings absolute joy into nothing less than your whole being. Maybe it’s swimming underwater; the lack of breath is for once not suffocating and the pressure of water surrounds you with security.  In this dream, you could stay forever.  Personally, I have had both these dreams and dreams of so much more.

               One such example of so much more happens to be with superheroes.  Who hasn’t known a superhero that they love, or even like?  Everyone likes something or someone they can look towards as an example, or someone who can never lose.  Maybe it’s someone who they can relate to, though they are so much more. I happen to love Spiderman.  I know I can get a bit obsessive over the things I enjoy, and his stories are some that I have really delved into. Comics, movies, games, even fanfiction; I’ve seen it all.  During these times, I must admit, I have had dreams that I had his powers.  The powers to defy gravity or perhaps meet it; to fall hundreds of feet, smiling in ecstasy, to catch myself at the last moment and swing higher.  

               When you wake from these dreams, happiness flows through you.  You have experienced something you could never in all reality do.  Only in the world of dreams it happens, and you are lucky enough to have it happen.  At some point, maybe you are envious too?  The happiness of that moment stuck and all you want is to experience it again. You can only experience it in dreams, so all you can hope for is for that dream to happen again.

               What if instead of flying, or swimming, or swinging in dreams, it was something as simple as running that gave you that feeling? Maybe jumping on one foot, or ice skating?  Recently, my dreams haven’t been of traversing the skies above or swimming the deepest oceans.  They have been of running on solid ground.  Running without a limp, running free from fear of pain or injury.  Running with a smile on my face, even though the burning in my lungs tells me to stop.  

               Then I wake up.

               Here is the thing; I have never enjoyed running. I dreaded running a mile in P.E., always being the last and gasping for air.  I hated running out of breath minutes before others, and felt like an elephant trying to outrun an antelope.  However, a year and a month ago, I hurt my leg.  It was more than just a sprain that brought me down.  I had surgery nearly a year ago to fix it, so at this point in time for the injury it was, mechanically it is better. My doctor said it is nice and strong.

               I imagined being down for two weeks.  I was told crutches would last that long, so after I would be out.  I was told to expect my brace on for about 6 weeks.  Though I would need physical therapy, I would be able to hike by 8 weeks, run by 2 months, and be back in yoga by then.  I could be back into high contact sports 6 months’ afterword.  I expected to do this; it’s like following a list of steps.  I could do those when the time hit.  It shouldn’t be that difficult, right?

               It was nothing like that.  After surgery was so much pain, and I feared getting up for the bathroom.  God forbid I needed a shower.  Working caused me so much pain that I needed constant painkillers.  I had to teach myself to walk again, and without a brace, I was terrified.  Each skill I learned took time, patience, pain, and a lot of sweat and tears.  Yet, a year after, I still have pain if I trip or do too much.  If I step wrong, my leg collapses on me.  When I walk up stairs, I have a strange limp that won’t go away.  My running looks like an ugly gallop.  I’m scared to do any new activity.

               Running, something that comes so naturally to most, something I once despised, now feels like that oh so coveted superpower.  It’s the thing I dream of doing, the thing that seems so far out of reach.  But hey, this piece isn’t about pity.  Though I shed a tear writing this, though I dreamed of this yesterday, it’s a piece about hope.

               I have seen a movie recently.  This movie happens to be called Spiderman: into the Spiderverse.  Yes, it’s a superhero movie, about my absolute favorite superhero.   Yes, I may be called a bit childish for loving superheroes at 28, but in my opinion, we can learn so many from these fictional figures. These people often embody power and strength, immunity and invincibility.  Delve deeper in the stories though, and you see someone who is, though gifted, quite flawed.  In the previously mentioned movie, you see a Spiderman who is the hero of the city. He has everything: a happy marriage, amazing abilities, a wonderful image, merchandise, even a CD in his name. He admits that he gets beat up all the time, but the most important thing is to always get up every time you fall. He gets up.  Every time he falls, every time he gets crushed, he gets up. Yet, 20 minutes into the movie, the unthinkable and unexpected happens; he falls and doesn’t get up.  This idol, this symbol of heroism, dies in front of a teenager who thought he was invincible.  This teenager is left with an impossible mission that was supposed to be completed by the legendary Spiderman.  Though he is given supernatural abilities early on, he doesn’t know how to use them, and there is no longer a teacher to help him learn.    

               Now picture this: you are told to complete a triathlon.  You need to do it in one month’s time.  In addition, you are alone in this endeavor and, though might be capable with time, don’t live the lifestyle for it.  In addition, you are competing against people who have trained their whole lives.  Is this possible for you?

               Such is the story of this teenager.  He fears the powers he has, as he cannot control them; they are only a burden upon him.  He fears the mission he has been given.  He has been told to always get up, yet he is too afraid to get near anything that will cause him to fall.  He is at a stalemate because he is told, by himself and others, that he is not good enough.

               Isn’t this just like the problems we face every day? We may not have to face beasts, or stop a black hole, but what about the time you lost that job of yours?  Maybe a time where you were told by a loved one that you will never be enough?  Have you been in a position where, perhaps, you were to lose your paycheck, car, house, or even loved one?  For me, it was and still is my recovery.  I, like this teenager, have a goal in front of me, yet most times am too afraid to approach it.  Fear of failure and injury are always in front of me.  I cannot get up again because I haven’t taken the first step forward.

               However, near the end of the movie, this teenager shows potential and capability.  Yet, he is stuck in place.  He cannot control his powers, and he cannot move forward with his mission.  Doesn’t capability without confidence lead to inability? This boy asks himself “when do I know I’m Spiderman?”

               The response “you don’t.  That’s all it is: a leap of faith.”

               A leap of faith.  That therein is the most frightening part.  It’s the part that stops us from taking that new job, or moving to that different place.  It’s the part that halts us from leaving a relationship or starting one.  It’s the part that stops me from attempting to run and play tag with my little nephews, that stops me from hiking unknown trails and experiencing life like I have.

                So, how do you know that you’re ready for that leap? You never will.  However, the time may come that you may need to.  The time came for this teenage boy, and he took that leap.  Because he did, he saved the city.  He knows now he has the powers he needs to protect others and be the Spiderman that the people need.  Superheroes might be fiction, and the stories told of them might be unrealistic.  But through those stories, we see reflections of ourselves and something to look up to.  I’ve never been ready for that leap, and nothing scares me more than taking it. But because of that movie, I’ve been doing more than I thought I could.  I still can’t run correctly, and when I go on the treadmill to try, I’m still terrified.  The important part though is that I try.  I’m done being afraid; I’m ready for the leap.

[mosrael]

Like...I’m frustrated in my job, like really extremely frustrated, but I love the kids I work with, I love the people on my team at my site, and I love the families that we work so hard for.  These people make such a frustrating job really worthwhile...Working with kids is batshit bananas every single day, but somehow, despite all the weirdness, kid drama, and absolute inability to spell or multiply, they really grow on you...

Like, getting little notes from them and listening to their weird little stories...they feel like small things but the fact that they trust and like me enough to want to share those things with me is really heartwarming.

OK GUYS,  WARNING THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST  I AM SO SORRY - I HAD WAY MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS THAN I THOUGHT I DID, PHEW...

Yesterday I was at a doctors appointment for the first part of program so my boss covered for me till I got back and she could leave. When I got back, I just barely peeped my head in the door they LITERALLY screamed and ran and mobbed me at the door and nearly knocked me over trying to give me hugs and to tell me whatever crazy stories they had of things that had happened in the WHOLE two hours that I was gone, hahaha!  And yes, it was chaotic, but it was just so sweet and heartwarming, I just....these students are my kIDS, MAN, MY KIDS. They did the same thing today when I left for like 20 minutes to go get more icing for their gingerbread houses and it just blows my mind every single time. This one little girl who ALWAYS has an attitude told me she’d miss me over break like five or six times before she left today, and gave me a bunch of hugs and kept waving as she walked out the door, and there are kids that do that every day, but this time with her, it was just kind of...a strange moment? because i could tell how much she was growing as a person, becoming more positive and confident and open and slower to catch an attitude like she was forever doing when i first started. I get the same warm fuzzies when they come to program all excited and out of breath waving around a crumply piece of paper that turns out to be a quiz or a test that they did so well on that they ad to RUN to program to show me. It’s nice to see them succeed, and be happy and proud of themselves, it’s just a really promising thing to see, and I can’t exactly explain it. Over the summer the kids who walked from a bus stop to program would bring me flowers (pretty sure they “found” them in someone’s garden so I had to shut that down hella fast but STILL). They tell new poop jokes literally every day like it’s the best shit on the planet (see what I did there HAH). I guess it’s refreshing that kids can be so...upfront and weird and honest... its endearing! lol they’re the weirdest little gremlins, but hey we’re a team of gremlins and i’m the gremlin queen so i guess i’m gonna lead these gremlin troops to their glory if it is the last thing i do lol.

I mean, there are just so many examples I could give and I have only worked here for a couple years....I can’t even imagine the weird, ridiculous, great and awful things that teachers that have been in the line of work for DECADES have seen. Jfc...

Like, interacting with kids so much though, and spending more time in the teacher role rather than a student role in a school environment, I really find myself wondering what is the norm, or even if there is one. Sucks that I can really only speak to my own experience and that’s all I can go by, especially because even my own memories of my own experiences aren’t entirely reliable. I definitely know that I don’t remember being like these kids are when I was a kid? Affectionate with teachers, or attached to them, I mean, specifically, because of course there’s a ton of similarity I can see in them compared to the way I was coming up, in some things here and there. But I’d never go out of my way to hang around a teacher, or to like...draw them a picture or write them a letter, or tell them a joke or ask to sit next to them on the bus rides to field trips and stuff. That’s where the greatest difference is, at least comparing to my own experience in school. I had a couple teachers that sort of inspired me, but I didn’t have casual conversations with them, and I didn’t like...want them to play tag or four square or anything with my friends and I, and I didn’t try and show them funny jokes or tell them what was going on in my little weird kid life. But the kids I work with do all those things. I know that there are probably loads of reasons why this is the case, and that it’s unrealistic for me to try and pinpoint what causes that kind of difference, especially since when it comes down to it all these kids are individuals and can’t be expected to behave like I did, or like my friends did at their age, because every individual’s experience is just that...individual. But I find myself wondering at the reasons why they are the way they are regardless. Maybe it’s different because really, I’m not a teacher, since this is a nonprofit after school program, no matter how closely integrated we are with the area schools. I guess in a way, that makes it easier to connect with families in a more personal way, but still...I know that’s probably a piece of it, but it isn’t the reason. I can’t imagine an entire group of 8 year olds would base their behaviors towards someone they consider a teacher on what exactly the status of the program is, especially when they have slime to make and fidget spinners and beyblades to trade and break and lose and argue about. There have got to be a lot of reasons, and no matter how much I know in my head that it’s unrealistic of me to try and pin down all the exact reasons, and that there’s really no point or value to trying to track them down, I still find myself heading down this train of thought pretty frequently. Not as frequently as I think about how shitty Ella from Ella Enchanted’s life would be if she lived in our society, but still pretty frequently nonetheless. I mean, some of these kids are like “Bye Gabby love you!” when they leave, even if I scolded them earlier that same day and dealt with the subsequent attitude that scolding a kid inevitably gets you sometimes. They’re always giving me hugs and trying to sit in my office with me and to organize my office (but NEVER the library or their own cubbies, that would be TOO MUCH TO ASK) or asking to try what I’m eating, or how my sister and her chinchilla are doing, or trying to make me try some food or other they brought me, or trying to force feed me broccoli because they know I hate it and they think that’s HILARIOUS, or telling me that we HAVE to get the class fish a gift for christmas and that his last name is the same as my last name and ew I’m married to the class fish and the list just goes on and on and on....Their candor extends to their families too, truthfully. The families for the most part are really warm and welcoming and kind, too...The parents bring me meals sometimes and even invite me and the team at my site to their get togethers...

I guess it just really surprises me how welcoming and open the people and kids I work with are. i don’t remember where i was going with this. I have been really irritated with my job lately, to the point where I’m really very seriously considering packing up and moving away to try something new elsewhere. It’s just....working with the kids and the great people on my team at my site really mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to leave them behind like that because we’re a team and the kids and families are a part of that...I don’t know. I’m just really torn. It’s absolutely no doubt that my job is fun sometimes, I mean, literally every day I’m positive that I hear at least one sentence from a kid or a coworker that is so strange that I’m POSITIVE I will never hear it again in my life. And in what other line of work could I experience the excitement and terror of organizing and attending an ice skating field trip with 80 8 - 12 year olds, and hoping and praying that no one gets a finger chopped off by a wayward skate on a kids foot? Where else would I be able to experience falling hard on my butt on the ice and having a bunch of kids try and help you get up just to slip and fall themselves while also trying to stop you laughing co-teachers from taking photos of the admittedly hilarious scenario? Is there another line of work where it’s an entirely reasonable occurance to turn around and see a pair of little kid legs sticking out from beneath your desk, telling him to come out from under there, and having him tell you he can’t because it’s his cucaracha cave and he’s just a cucaracha living in his cucaracha house? It’s really bananas, the whole thing is exhausting and exhilarating and fun and messy and frustrating and annoying but lovable and worthwhile, and I just have to remember all that when all the long hours, frustrating pay, and other awful things that dredge up all my anxieties and fears and concerns happen. It’s literally just like...a rollercoaster of terror. It’s exciting and terrifying at the same time, it’s great and it’s also literally killing me, sometimes moreso than others. It’s fun and the kids and families are sweet and my team and site are fabulous and the work we’re doing is always undoubtedly worthwhile, so for now at least, that’s enough to keep me invested for now, I guess. The people who make it worthwhile really do a great job at making it that way. I appreciate them a lot, honestly. My team does so much and I appreciate them like crazy, and my desire to make sure that I’m helping them as much as they help me outweighs my desire to branch out wholeheartedly to find something better because that would mean more work for them and they don’t deserve that, because they’ve been nothing but great. the kids don’t deserve that either, they’ve already had a lot of teachers and coordinators come and go every single year and they’ll feel abandoned and hurt, and that seeps into the families and breeds just...some really bad feelings that the kids don’t deserve and I don’t want to do anything that would cause any of them to even begin to wonder if it’s something that they did that made me leave, or if it’s something about them that makes people come and go so frequently, because that’s absolutely false. i don’t want to risk anything that would jeopardize all the hard work that the kids and the whole team has put into building their confidence in themselves along with their academics. And besides, I’d miss my team and I’d definitely miss the kids....

I don’t really know why I started going into all this, but I’m slowly getting the impression that I’m maybe trying to give myself some pros and cons so that I can have something to reference when I inevitably have to make a real decision about where I’m going to take this whole career thing. I didn’t plan to be where I am now, but now that I’m here, I’m invested and I really do need to think carefully about any moves I make since it’s impossible to ignore the fact that it’ll affect a lot of people, and people I care about and am actively working to build up at that. I think I just...needed to have all of this out in some kind of haphazard organized form and out of my cloudy excuse for a brain where all these things were just kind of frantically flailing around in little half-thoughts. and now I can’t find the read more button thing so it’s just gonna be this long annoying text post on your dash  UPDATE: I FOUND THE READ MORE THING! phew, one problem solved at least! That’s the first time I have ever solved a problem, I think--anyways, i honestly would not fault someone for totally ignoring because WOW this got real long real fast...

if you did read this, thanks. C: it feels good to know that someone out there knows what I’m worrying about and is maybe expending a little bit of energy just thinking about the same thing I’m thinking about. just the possibility of that sort of makes me feel a little bit less alone in this situation. let me know what you think if you feel so inclined! I’ve gotta make a decision here and I know that I don’t really have time to just fool around and pretend that this doesn’t exist...I can’t afford to fuck around and be careless here when there are people I honestly care about (I KNOW! I hate admitting that I CARE about people. gross lol) involved. ugh. balance, what even is that? sounds like fake news, i don’t believe it exists.

uh....anyway, i guess this is the end. i’m sitting here typing away like i don’t have to be an adult and get my car inspected before taking a 3 hour road trip tomorrow. i should be responsible and go to sleep but whatever i’ve done enough responsible things for the day so getting to bed in a timely manner can wait for another day. baby steps, fam, baby steps

[orangebatsanctuary]

New story from Inaho x Slaine Anthology arrived!

Aldnoah On Ice

Story by Fabelyn

AZ x Yuri on Ice paro by Fabelyn, surely great crossover, I was thinking about it before, that Inaho & Slaine being in YOI AU gonna be super Katsudon/delicious. It certainly is.

Read on OrangeBat Sanctuary website:  http://www.orangebat-sanctuary.com/aldnoah-on-ice-by-fabelyn

or click ‘Keep reading’ below.

Happy reading!

Love,

Rosiel

Aldnoah On Ice

by Fabelyn

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･: * 

If there was a hell, it would be the Grand Prix after party banquet. At least, it would be when Slaine later learned about the gaps in his memory….

 “Ooh, Slaine, he’s here!”

Of course he is, this is the post final banquet, Slaine thought sourly, but could never muster the will to reveal such spite to Asseylum. Instead he smiled a little too thinly and replied, “Yup!” before downing another whole glass of champagne.

Asseylum didn’t notice his tone, but did frown at the drinking before going back to focus on that year’s—and the last three years too—Grand Prix Final winner: Inaho Kaizuka.

Slaine had no idea what Asseylum, or anyone else, saw in him. Well, maybe he did; even Slaine had to admit his technical skills were beyond compare.

But his performance had always felt soulless to Slaine. As if Inaho didn't put any feeling into it, and simply executed every move too flawlessly for judges to have any issue with it.

In fact, Slaine might have once admired Inaho. But that was before his sister, Asseylum, had started becoming Inaho’s avid fan, and before Slaine had done embarrassingly bad at the last two Grand Prix Finals, and the memory of Inaho tended to bring shame over his own results.

Honestly, if only he had a better coach... then again, that would imply he had one. He often didn’t think what Cruhteo did for him could be considered coaching...

Or maybe he was being too ungrateful and full of himself, blaming his inability to be better on someone else.

Ugh. He took another glass and drank it in one go.

Why was he losing both Asseylum’s admiration and the gold medal to someone that looked bored every day? So what if his performance was awe-inspiring despite that, and that he looked so good—

Oh, the drink is really getting to my head, I should stop.

He made a negative motion towards a waiter offering him another glass and saw Asseylum nod approvingly.

“Slaine, we should go greet him!”

“Who?”

“Inaho Kaizuka, silly!”

Damnit. “Why?”

Asseylum smiled. “Well, he’s my friend—”

Just because you spoke to him when you both were in Russia doesn’t mean he thinks of you as a friend.

“But more importantly... you haven’t talked to him yet, even though you both won this and last year!”

“I didn’t win, I got sixth and fifth place.”

“Even reaching the Grand Prix Final at all is a win, Slaine!” Asseylum gave him one of her most beaming smiles, which made his heart melt.

“I suppose…” He fidgeted, suddenly regretting his decision to turn down another glass.

“So,” Asseylum continued, “it’s only polite that you two greet each other. Last year you forfeited the banquet because I was sick…”

“That’s not your fault!”

“...but this year we’re fine, so you too should finally speak to each other! He’s a great person, really.”

Slaine tried to protest some more, but as usual he had no willpower to deny his sister.

He glanced at Inaho again... and found Inaho looking right back at him. Instead of trying to look away quickly, the boy continued staring regardless.

Slaine looked away. He supposed it was only natural for Inaho to be looking their way if he knew his sister.

“Come on, Slaine,” Asseylum said, and grabbed his arm to lead him to Inaho.

Defeated, Slaine sighed and grabbed a passing glass of champagne as he allowed himself to be led.

“Oh, and this might be your last chance to talk to him, too,” Asseylum mumbled as an afterthought.

Slaine frowned and looked at her. “Why?”

“It seems he’s considering retiring this year or the next.”

“I’ve heard that, but it’s still unconfirmed, so maybe it’s just gossip. He’s my age; there’s still plenty of time before he retires.”

“Yes, but he said as much to me in Russia. I think he lacks motivation to continue.”

“Hm.” The bastard. Being that perfect and throwing it all away? Did he not love skating? God, if he didn’t want his talent he should just hand it to Slaine.

By the time he and Asseylum reached Inaho and his entourage, his head was fuzzy and his glass empty, so he took another one.

*

For Inaho, these social gatherings were always hellish.

Dull, everything was so dull, as usual. Inaho saw no point in these social gatherings, but his sister and his coach, Magbaredge, had insisted he always attend, so there he was.

The only point of interest were the Allusia-Troyard siblings. The sister, from the famous ballet family of Allusia, was a decent skater but, being a dancer prodigy, focused on that and not competitive skating. He was personally quite fond of her, but it was the brother he was more interested in.

Slaine Troyard. As the son of the former Allusia family coach, he’d been taken in by them after the death of his parents. That was the extent of his life’s story that Inaho knew; the media and others liked to gossip about the family situation but Inaho always ignored it, he was far more interested in Slaine personally.

Slaine had done badly at the two Grand Prix he’d competed in, but in a way that interested Inaho. From his observations, Slaine would have succeeded and reached the podium if he’d perfected his moves, or simply chosen a sequence that would earn him more points, instead of one that seemed focused on emotions and meaningfulness. Honestly, he’d skated as if he hadn’t been most moves taught properly, which was ridiculous considering where he’d reached.

And yet, despite the glaring flaws in his program, something about it had been... enticing. Even to Inaho, who was usually only interested in the technical aspects of it.

“Inaho, congratulations!” Seylum said, approaching him and seemingly honest in cheer.

Inaho smiled at her, and pointedly ignored his sister making faces behind Seylum; she made suggestive motions whenever he spoke with a girl his age.

“Thank you,” he told Seylum, then turned to her brother. “Slaine Troyard.”

Slaine was swaying slightly, clearly having drunk more than he could handle.

“...Inaho Kai—” he stopped and fumbled with his surname for a few seconds before grumbling. “It’s difficult to pronounce, maybe I should call you Orange.”

Inaho blinked. “...you want to call me by the color of my skating clothes?”

“Why not?” Slaine shrugged and reached for another glass from a passing waiter. Seylum was scandalized.

“Slaine! I think you had more than enough! Inaho, sorry, he’s usually very polite, but I think the champagne got to his head.”

“It’s fine, let him have as much as he wants.” Inaho assured her, curious to see what else Slaine would say in his inebriated state. “I shall call you Bat, then. You reminded me of one, with that black outfit you had in the GPF.”

Slaine scowled as if he didn’t like it, but changed topics as he drank from his cup. Seylum tried prying it of him, to no avail.

“Are you really thinking of retiring?”

“Slaine!” Seylum tried chiding once again.

“I don’t mind it,” Inaho said offhandedly, and he wasn’t just being polite; he’d always preferred things to be direct. “I am considering it, yes.”

Slaine’s scowl deepened. “Why would you do that?!”

Inaho shrugged. “I’ve reached the peak of my career. I’ve executed every move I wanted flawlessly and won the competitions I was interested in, and I’m now financially secure for the rest of my life. There’s nothing else to be gained by continuing. You seem upset at the thought, yet isn’t it good for you if I’m no longer here? You’ll place higher.”

Slaine moved closer to him, face so close Inaho could smell the alcohol on his breath, and placed an indignant finger on his chest, poking him insistently.

“I can’t beat you if you aren’t there.”

“First of all you should aim to even reach the third or second place. And of course you can. Simply score higher than I have.”

Slaine blinked blearily, apparently not having thought of that in his present state. But then he recovered and his face darkened again.

“It doesn’t matter!” he said, quite slurred. “You sh-shouldn’t let talent go to waste! Put more feeling into your programs!”

He didn’t know how to. “I don’t care to.”

Slaine groaned. “Then, if you’re going to retire, you should... should…”

He stopped. Apparently whatever he was going to say was too much and even in his drunk state he hesitated.

Inaho couldn’t have that. Wordlessly he extended his hand out, offering Slaine the glass he’d been nursing, still full.

Slaine accepted it, drank it all and then…

“If you’re going to waste your skill, you should just come and be my coach,” he said.

Seylum stared at him, and Inaho realized he was doing the same and composed himself.

“...Why?”

“Because... look at you! You’re good at everything I lack in skating, and you’re good-looking and... and…”

Inaho stiffened when Slaine wrapped his arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Seylum squealed and behind her Yuki had a moment of confusion before deciding anything was fine and giving Inaho the thumbs up.

Slaine then began whispering in Inaho’s ear.

“Because my coach only wants Asseylum as this generation's star and... and I know he doesn’t like how I’ve been winning in spite of his shitty training and... and I don’t want to steal the spotlight from Asseylum’s dancing career but I love ice skating and it’s all I ever want to do.”

Oh.

Well now…

This was more interesting. If Slaine really was even more skilled than he’d shown himself to be, and was being weighed down by someone’s machinations…

He recalled how enthralling Slaine’s performance had been...

Inaho didn’t like to involve himself in drama, but it made him angry to think Slaine was being kept from his true potential. Still, becoming a coach might be too troublesome, maybe he could help him out in some other way.

Slaine let him go and gave him a lopsided smile. He looked good smiling.

“I know! Let’s have a dance-off! If I win, you’ll be my coach!”

“I don’t dance…”

“So I win by default!”

“No, you—”

“Hey, this seems fun,” Rayet, an ice skating bronze medalist, swooped in, looking amused. “How about I join you?”

Was she listening to our conversation? Inaho frowned; Slaine hadn’t been loud.

*

Technically she shouldn’t stick out... well, not more than normal for a medalist. But the party was a bore fest, especially when she was only there to observe the target.

Asseylum Vers Allusia. Rayet’s family was being paid by an anonymous source to make sure the darling ‘accidently’ suffered some form of crippling injury and could never fully dance again. And with Rayet’s background... this job was hers. And so she had been purposely listening in when she heard Slaine mention a dance-off.

Perfect. She could have an excuse to get closer to Asseylum and thus find out her schedule, and have some fun tonight.

“Since that guy doesn’t look interested,” she told Slaine, “how about you battle me?”

Slaine looked crestfallen for a moment before smiling at her. “I guess, why not? What do you want? Samba? Hip hop?”

“Hmm…” Rayet looked around for inspiration and focused on the thin metal pillars around the banquet room. She smiled impishly. “Do you know poledancing?”

*

Inaho stared as a half naked Slaine proudly danced around a pole while supporting Rayet.

Why had he been thinking of avoiding the task of being his coach again?

No, no he mustn’t choose such a complicated future for himself based on how Slaine shone as he danced.

Right.

Besides, there was something else to worry about here. Like the fading bruise on Slaine’s ribs. Judging by how others seemed to be either amused or scandalized by the display, no one had thought much of it. Perhaps everyone was assuming it was simply a training injury, but the placement didn’t make much sense for that.

“Soooo,” Yuki trailed, shuffling closer to him. “You like boys, huh? You know, you could have told me that so I didn’t keep trying to hook you up—”

“I’m not interested in either,” Inaho interrupted. “It’s only natural that I focus in such an unexpected display for these kind of gatherings.”

His coach, Magbaredge, raised an eyebrow and also moved closer to him.

“Is that so? Alright then, how many times has Slaine spun around that pole?”

Inaho could have lied, but that would mean acknowledging she had a point, so he told the truth. “This is the tenth time doing a full rotation around it.”

“And Rayet?”

“...I’m not so sure. But this observation is hardly conclusive evidence of the sort of interest you both are implying.”

The two women looked at him pityingly, and his sister took out her cellphone.

“Wait until Nina and the others hear of this. Well, it’s a pity I won’t have grandchildren—”

“Nieces and nephews. You’re my sister not my—”

“Orange!”

Inaho turned from his entourage to find Slaine approaching him again.

“I won! Now let’s have our dance-off!”

“As I said, I don’t dance.”

“Bullshit!” Slaine slurred and reached out to grab Inaho by the tie, pulling him closer. “You’re a pro ice-skater, of course you can dance!”

With their faces inches apart, Inaho was feeling slightly uncomfortable, but not for logical reasons such as the smell of alcohol or disliking closeness.

“I... really don’t—”

“C’mon now,” Slaine said, voice an octave lower now, and Inaho felt his hand on his back, fingers splayed out as he pulled Inaho’s body even closer. “Dance with me, Orange.”

Inaho swallowed.

This was completely illogical.

*

“This is completely illogical,” Inaho continued to insist later, slightly dazed, as his sister and coach forced him to get on the uber car.

“Uhuh,” Yuki said offhandedly, and Inaho turned to look at her to find her occupied with selecting images on her phone.

He inched closer and saw her choose one where, in a very intimate moment, Slaine was dipping Inaho’s body while their heads were inches apart and Inaho had his hand caressing Slaine’s face.

He stared at it. Yuki was sending it to all friends. All five of them.

“It’s illogical,” he deadpanned.

“So you keep parroting,” Magbaredge said, amused. “Be more specific.”

“It makes no sense, there is no basis, for me to... feel this way about some boy with too much alcohol in his system.”

Magbaredge’s smile was a leer. “Welcome to love, Junior. It’s as nonsensical as it seems.”

Inaho closed his eyes, leaned back into the seat and let out a long suffering sigh.

“I suppose this is when one would say ‘this is hell’.”

“Oh no, wait until the pining starts.”

Inaho opened his eyes again. “What pining? Slaine is clearly quite enamored with me.”

At that, Yuki frowned slightly.

“True,” she said worriedly, “but with the way the poor boy was drinking, he might not have a clear memory of everything tomorrow…”

*

Slaine, it turned out, retained no memory of the banquet after Asseylum suggested they go greet Inaho.

Which didn’t stop Asseylum from telling him about it, as well as finding pictures of it on some social media.

Initially Slaine had been mortified. And then Cruhteo got wind of it, and there was no time for embarrassment.

Slaine had thought that nothing would again compare with the bleakness that followed his father’s death. He was wrong, and his personal hell came back.

*

“Sir.”

Slaine sighed. “Harklight, I’ve told you, there’s no need to address me so formally.”

Harklight was adamant. “Master Saazbaum placed you as this ryokan’s manager. As a mere supervisor, I’m below you.”

“You’re older than me and been at this longer. Besides, we both know he only did it out of charity since I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“And yet, you’ve been doing splendidly so far.”

Slaine ducked his head at the compliment, “Only because I have such good staff and don’t really need to do much at all.”

Harklight smiled momentarily before it slipped of his face and he continued carefully. “About having nowhere to go... Sir Slaine…”

Slaine noticed Harklight’s eyes glancing down and followed his gaze to the sports magazine he’d been reading. He winced; he’d been at the ice skating part. He hastily closed it, despite knowing it was futile.

“I was just curious. I still like it as a sport,” Slaine said defensively.

“It’s clearly more than that for you, still. Why don’t you go back to the Allusia household?”

“They were the ones that banished me to Japan in the first place.”

Although his deplorable state at the banquet had largely been ignored apart from gossip columns, Cruhteo still kicked up a storm and caused an uproar over it.

Thanks to Asseylum mitigating things, an agreement was made that Slaine had found perfect at the time; have him take some time off in some distant country until it was forgotten by the public.

It should have been punishment; a month away from one’s coach could be fatal for training. But since Cruhteo’s training largely consisted of teaching Slaine the bare minimum to avoid suspicion and beating him when he made a mistake... Slaine had taken it happily.

But then tragedy had struck, and he was never summoned back to their side.

“It’s been months,” Harklight insisted. “It’s time you went back so you can prepare for this skating season.”

“They never called me back. And I can’t... show my face there now when Asseylum is still recovering. Especially when Cruhteo still insists I somehow ordered the car crash.” He balled his hands into fists just remembering the disgusting accusations.

Harklight pursed his lips. “Wasn’t it something ridiculous? That you must have ordered it because you knew where she would be that day because she had messaged you?”

“Yes.”

“But hadn’t she also messaged most of her friends?”

“Yes, but Cruhteo claimed I had motive because I must have been bitter to have to spend one month away.”

“Surely they didn’t believe that.”

“Harklight, I’m here because they cut my income and I was rescued by Saazbaum.”

“That could have been a mistake, I recall you mentioning that they were sending you money again.”

“Yes.” Though he hadn’t touched that money and didn’t plan to, if he could help it. “But even so…”

“...If anyone actually believed that accusation, the media circus surrounding it wouldn’t have died down so quickly. Besides, you wouldn’t still be considered adopted by them, would you?”

“We don’t know that. They could be too busy worrying about her to remember to cancel my adoption. Also, if everything really was alright, she’d have been allowed to speak to me.” Which he hadn’t even known was going on until Saazbaum revealed it to him.

Harklight’s eyes flashed with anger, but not at Slaine. “Fine. You should still find another coach and continue the career you love. Ask Master Saazbaum for help.”

Slaine doubted he would help him with that. He’d had the distinct impression Saazbaum loathed the Allusia family, and so long as Slaine was still technically part of it, any prestige he got would only help them. And even if that wasn’t a factor…

“Harklight, in truth I... did try to search for another coach already,” Slaine admitted, wincing at the memory. “None of them will take me. It seems Cruhteo has poisoned them against me.”

Harklight cursed. “That man, I should just—”

“Sirs?”

They both turned to find a low ranking employee at the door to the room. The woman bowed at them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a guest at the onsen that insist on speaking to Master Troyard.”

“If he wishes to speak to a Manager, send Mazuurek. He’s the best at handling guests personally.”

“I tried, but he insists on speaking to you and only you. He requested you by name.”

Slaine looked at Harklight, who shrugged to indicate he didn’t know what this was about.

“I’ll go to them right away,” Slaine told the woman, not bothered by the request since he was eager to have an excuse to end his conversation with Harklight.

*

It turned out the guest had paid for a private onsen experience. Slaine wondered if it was a rich customer that wanted to speak to him to demand more perks. Well, Saazbaum ran his hotel chain with the belief most things could be negotiated, so that could be arranged…

He opened the particular onsen door already putting on his business face.

“Pardon the intrusion, I was told you wanted to see—”

The words died in his throat with a gurgle when Slaine recognized the figure soaking in the water.

“Ah, you’re finally here,” Inaho Kaizuka said plainly, then stood up, giving Slaine a full view of his naked body.

“Why are you...” here? Trying to talk to me? “...naked?”

Oh God, had he really just asked that of a person soaking in the water?

Inaho, wading towards him, stopped and blinked.

“One typically goes into the onsen without any clothes. I understand you’re not Japanese, but surely as the manager of a ryokan you should have known that by now.”

Slaine felt his face flushing in anger and embarrassment.

“I meant, why are you here?”

“Because this ryokan is famous for the—”

“Why are you in this ryokan?”

Inaho had finally reached the edge of the water nearest Slaine, who was trying his hardest to not look below Inaho’s face. Damn him and his toned body.

“Why? To be your coach, of course.”

“...What?”

*

“So let me get this straight,” Slaine said, still trying to wrap his head around the situation as Inaho, now mercifully clothed, ate dinner in his room. “During the banquet not only did I make a complete fool of myself... I also asked you to be my coach?”

“Yes, pretty much. So you don’t remember that part?”

“I don’t remember any of it!” Slaine snapped, then winced when he realized he was taking his self recrimination out on the wrong person. “I’m sorry for yelling. And... I’m sorry you came all the way here, I don’t remember asking such a thing.”

Inaho, surprisingly, didn’t look disappointed. “I considered that possibility when you failed to call me afterwards.”

“I don’t—” Slaine stopped. He had woken up the next day to find a phone number meticulously written in a slip of paper... that had been shoved inside his briefs. Oh god.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” Inaho was saying offhandedly.

“It... doesn’t?”

“Of course not. Inebriation removes inhibition, it’s less likely to create desires you never had before. And this isn’t a matter of consent since you aren’t being forced into anything. Therefore, even if you don’t recall asking for it, it doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t want me as your coach. Either way, this trip would be necessary to verify that.”

Inaho stopped talking and eyed him expectantly. Slaine realized he was waiting for him to confirm or deny if he wanted it or not.

“Well... I…” he could just claim it was a drunken suggestion because he’d thought it hilarious but... but he did want it and... didn’t he need it too?

“Did you retire because of this?”

“No, I was already contemplating it. Your request simply gave me the final push towards it as it was something to look forward to more than competing.”

Slaine tried to tune down the butterflies in his stomach; clearly Inaho was talking about the challenge of it, and not the prospect of being with Slaine. Besides…

“That was months ago, why only now?”

“Obviously, I plan to take this seriously. I have no experience in teaching others so I first researched coaching techniques. And I also looked up your situation.”

Oh, so he is only doing this for the thrill of it. Slaine tried to not look disappointed.

“Well... then you know it’s not as if I have any other coach…”

“Nonsense. You simply lack the right contacts. There are plenty of coaches who dislike Cruhteo and wouldn’t heed his words. If... the only reason you want me is because you have no other choice, I’ll get you in contact with someone else.”

Slaine was taken aback; it had sounded like Inaho had hesitated for a moment. He felt bad now; Inaho had gone to some trouble to be his coach, even if not for the selfish reasons Slaine, and he was talented and intelligent…

“You said you know my situation…” Slaine said slowly, “then you’re aware I’ve been practically cut from the Allusia household and have little funding.”

Inaho shrugged. “Only temporarily. Since Seylum is recovering so well—”

“You've seen her!? She’s okay?”

“Yes, though she’s not allowed to be on the phone and only receives a few visits now and then. Regardless, she is doing well which is why you’ve been put aside for now.”

“I don’t understand. Why would her positive recovery be what’s keeping me banished?”

“Because at the moment she’s still above you in terms of victories. If they think she can go back to winning gold like before, while you have yet to win any medals, they’ll keep focusing on her. However, they’ll give you their attention again when you win gold this year—”

“If I win, you mean.”

“No. If I’m to be your coach, you won’t do worse than gold.”

“...even if you think highly of your own abilities, you shouldn’t overestimate mine. And how can one do better than gold?”

“By beating world records. And I’m not overestimating your abilities.”

It was getting harder and harder to not react to Inaho’s words, and Slaine shifted nervously.

“Even if I could... I’m not sure I’d want to take away Asseylum’s prestige.”

“You won’t. She doesn't even ice skate.”

“Yes, but if I win, she won’t be the only winner in the family.”

“...Do you really think Seylum cares about being the only prestigious person? You should speak to her more, when this is over; she wants someone to share the glory.”

Somehow, Slaine didn’t think he was lying; that was just like Asseylum.

So... he could continue competing... and it wouldn’t harm Asseylum... and he could even have Inaho Kaizuka by his side…

Why was he still hesitating?

“I... if you’ll have me then... please be my coach.”

For the first time since they began talking, Inaho smiled slightly. Slaine had the sudden urge to make him smile more.

“Good. I’ll inform my sister she can move my things here.”

“Ah? Sure, I guess. I’ll tell Saazbaum.”

“Tomorrow we’ll start a training regime; it seems like you’ve let go of yourself during this time and you need to be put back into shape.”

“S-sorry. Okay.”

“I’ve checked the layout of this land on google maps and have made a specific running circuit that should suit your needs.”

“You... really?”

“I’ve also reviewed your former performances and added specific muscle training.”

“...Thanks?”

“We’ll go through the program I choreographed for you after two weeks.”

“...You already have one for me?”

“And I’ll send you a list of your new diet to your email. Start today.”

“I... I…”

“And... I don’t suppose you were exaggerating when you said you recalled nothing of the banquet?”

“Huh? That’s right, sorry. Is there another important thing I forgot?”

“Nothing we can’t get back to with time. So you don’t recall our dancing?”

He was blushing again. “I’ve seen photos of it.”

“My sister has the whole thing on video. She’ll show you when she arrives.”

“She’s... moving in too?”

“Naturally. So you don’t remember calling me attractive?”

Slaine froze, then hid his face in his hands. “N-No...”

“I’ll take it as a no. So no recollections of trying to take my clothes off.”

“I... I…”

“And when you kissed me.”

“Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod.”

“And when we had sex.”

Slaine’s vision blurred and everything turned black. When he regained consciousness, he was lying on the ground, Inaho hovering over him.

“How long was I out?”

“A few seconds.”

“I had sex and I don’t even remember—”

“I lied. We didn’t.”

Slaine sat up so fast he nearly knocked Inaho away.

“We... didn’t?” He wouldn't have been able to hide his relief even if he tried.

“Of course not,” Inaho said, brows creased. “It would be wrong to do it with someone that was too drunk to give consent properly.”

“...Are you implying you would have done it if I—”

“But it’s interesting that you didn’t question any of what I said. So to you it’s quite plausible that in an inhibited state you’d have complimented my looks, ripped my clothes off, kissed me then gone to bed with me?”

Slaine could feel his whole body turning scarlet now. He tried to ignore Inaho’s question and focus on the positive aspect of it.

“So everything you said was just a lie to gauge my reaction?” He was so happy he couldn't even be mad.

“No. You did everything except the sex part. If you don’t believe me, my sister has it all documented. But again, so you have wanted to—”

Change the subject, change the subject right now!

“Y-You said you had something choreographed for me?”

“Yes. I made it based on the you I saw at the banquet.”

“...I’m not sure drunkenness will translate well to ice skating moves,” Slaine pointed out wryly.

“I didn’t add that part.”

“Oh. What's it called?”

“On love: Eros.”

“...”

“...”

“Excuse me sirs, I came to clean up the table— oh. Is... everything alright?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

*

Later on, curled into a ball on his bed and ignoring Inaho’s demands to be let in (which Slaine refused, even if he had, thankfully, left all his Inaho Kaizuka memorabilia back at the Allusia mansion), Slaine could still hardly believe what was happening.

He would be able to see Asseylum again. He’d be able to skate again. He had Inaho Kaizuka as his coach. And it almost felt like the boy was implying he wanted more than that.

He laughed quietly, feeling how fast his heart was beating in excitement, maybe things would start looking up from now on.

 *:･ﾟ✧ ✧･: * 

 Author Notes:

-Although it would have made more sense for Inaho to be Yuuri (both being japanese while Slaine is foreign) I had a harder time imagining Inaho becoming a drunk mess. Or Slaine being someone that, like, Victor didn’t know any love before, unless I removed Asseylum (which he loves even if not romantically) from the plot. Of course, saying Inaho doesn’t know love is also not correct as he loves his sister but...it still fit him more to have performances based on technical prowess and not feeling. And it was more in line with az to have him be better than Slaine.

-In an attempt to explain why Slaine would be working at an onsen, as well as mention other characters, some sort of sordid subplot of Saazbaum (yes it was him) trying to get Asseylum permanently incapacitated from dancing emerged. However, this is meant as an oneshot and I don’t plan on continuing it.

-On the banquet: honestly, I couldn’t imagine Inaho not mentioning the banquet, but unlike Victor I could see him not being too upset if he found out the truth.

Fabelyn 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･: * 

[otabekismybff]

Torn Paper Heart (Otayuri)

Pairings: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Onesided!Yuri Plisetsky/Yuuri Katsuki, Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki Rating: G Summary: Otabek and Yuri have been dating for almost three months, but their relationship is progressing slowly. Ever since he lost to Yuuri Katsuki at Worlds, Yuri has been acting more and more depressed. Otabek has no idea why until he notices that Yuri's feelings towards Yuuri Katsuki may be more than just rivals. Prompt: @sageandginger (posted at end of fic)

READ ON AO3

“Why won't you kiss me?” Otabek Altin thinks these words every time he kisses Yuri Plisetsky. In his dorm room at Yakov's training camp. In the locker room at the rink after practice. In Yuri's apartment down the street. In the dimly lit movie theater during one of their rare dates. Otabek kisses Yuri's cheeks, his forehead, his ears, his hands...but never his lips.

Not that he's never tried, but Yuri always turns his head or says it's time to do something else. And Yuri never kisses him back, not even a peck on the cheek. They've been dating for almost three months. Since shortly after Yuri took silver at Worlds.

Otabek still isn't sure why Yuri cried so much after Worlds. He'd lost to Yuuri Katsuki, but it wasn't a surprise to anyone. They'd been neck-and-neck ever since Victor Nikiforov retired, though Yuri had consistently taken gold at the Grand Prix Final and Worlds for the last two years. It was only a matter of time before Yuuri scored higher.

Otabek barged into Yuri's hotel room days later, planning to force him to stop moping, but when he saw Yuri's tear-stained face, all he could do was comfort him. The night had been spent holding Yuri while he cried and whispering reassurances.

The love confession was an accident, though Otabek initially planned to ask him out right after Worlds. Yuri hesitated only a moment before telling him yes.

But they didn't kiss that night. Or any of the days after. Really, there isn't much difference between their friendship and their relationship. It stills feels like they're just friends.

Otabek signed up for Yakov's training camp this summer, thinking that it would be good chance to change things, a chance to get a real kiss from Yuri. But Yuri was so distracted lately. He messed up often in class, and he consistently performed below Yuuri Katsuki. Was he psyching himself out?

Yuri worries easily, so Otabek wonders if he thinks he'll keep losing to Yuuri Katsuki. How can he give up after only one defeat? This isn't the soldier he's loved all this time. He misses the Yuri that takes no compromises, that tries his hardest, that becomes a beautiful monster on the ice.

However, Otabek doesn't want to give up on Yuri. He's determined to get him back on track. Today. He'll talk to Yuri about it today. And if Yuri can't get back on track, Otabek will comfort him again. He'll do whatever he can to cheer up his boyfriend.

Otabek walks into the foyer of the dorm, resolve in his strong steps, but a hand tapping his shoulder stops him. He turns to see a short bald man holding out a letter.

“Otabek Altin?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“This arrived for you today.” He hands the letter to Otabek, then scurries away.

Otabek sighs inwardly. Not for the first time, he wishes he didn't look so intimidating. He's not even that tall, but his presence is larger than life. At least, that's what he's been told.

He drags his thumb under the seal of the envelope, and pulls out a thick card-stock letter. The words are embossed in gold script.

'Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki request the honor of your presence at their marriage on the thirtieth of July at twelve o'clock at the Renaissance Hotel, St. Petersburg, Russia.'

The letter shakes in Otabek's hands as everything clicks into place. He'd almost forgotten Victor's proposal all those years ago. “We'll get married once he wins gold.” Yuuri finally won gold at a major competition. That's why Yuri was crying so much after his loss at Worlds. He didn't just lose gold. He lost Yuuri.

How long has Yuri been fighting with that goal in mind? How many times has he pushed himself harder than he should have in order to stop this marriage from happening? How does it feel to watch the person you love be coached by someone they love day after day?

And how heartbroken would Yuri feel after receiving this wedding invitation in the mail?

Otabek sprints down the hallway and out the front door. He needs to find Yuri and comfort him. Yuri can't be alone during this time. At just the idea this might happen, he cried for days. What will he do now that it's really happening?

...

At Yuri's apartment, Otabek bangs on the door, but no one answers.

The neighbor pops his head out. “Ah, Otabek, was it? Yuri left maybe ten minutes ago.”

Otabek's stomach drops. “Did he seem upset?”

“Now that you mention it, he did look a bit pale.”

“Where was he heading?” Otabek demands. His usual mask of apathy is shattered. Only worry and determination fill him. He's got to find Yuri...before it's too late.

“He said something about Potseluev Bridge. It's across the Moyka River.”

“I know the place. Thank you.” Otabek sprints down the street, shoving past people walking, barely getting in his apologies. Potseluev Bridge. A popular spot for lovers. Its name literally means “bridge of kisses.” What could Yuri be doing there?

…

Otabek reaches the bridge and panics. Yuri is nowhere to be seen. He runs across the sidewalk anyway, searching, trying his hardest to keep his worst fears from taking over.

Then he sees him. Crouched next to one of the pillars on the opposite side. His hoodie obscures his face, but Otabek would know that long, pale-blond hair anywhere.

He runs across the street, dodging cars, which honk at him as irritated voices shout. He ignores them all, his attention focused like a laser beam.

“Yuri!”

The blond looks up, startled. His eyes are red and puffy, his hair hanging loose and disheveled. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you, idiot.”

Yuri chuckles. “Idiot? That's my line.” But he isn't directing it at Otabek. He lowers his gaze and rests his chin on his knees, no doubt losing himself to memories.

Otabek sits down next to him. The metal bars of the bridge dig into his arm. “I know,” he announces.

“Know what?” Yuri traces his finger along the side of the pillar. He's obviously bored and doesn't care that Otabek ran all this way to find him. In fact, he probably thinks it's stupid.

Otabek reaches over and grasps Yuri's hands. He pulls him in so he's forced to look into his brown eyes. “I know that you have feelings for Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuri averts his eyes, but he can't hide the blush. “I don't. I'm going out with you, aren't I?”

Otabek studies him closely. If his theory on Yuri's crush wasn't true, Yuri would have gotten angry or laughed, but he's quiet, reserved. And the pain is evident in his hunched-over posture and his inability to meet Otabek's gaze. Really, he's so easy to read.

“Stop lying.”

Panic flashes across Yuri's face, and he shakes his head vigorously. “I'm not lying,” he says, almost like it's a question. It sounds more like he's trying to convince himself.

“Lie to yourself all you want, but don't lie to me. Please.”

Tears trickle down Yuri's face as he stares at Otabek, then crumples into himself. His tears turn into body-shaking sobs. “I'm sorry,” he chokes out. “I can't help it. Believe me. If I could stop these feelings, I would. God, it hurts so much.”

Otabek strokes Yuri's hair, as if he's petting a frightened cat. He says nothing while Yuri explains how he's always been enchanted by Yuuri's skating, especially his step sequence, but he didn't realize his feelings went beyond that until much later. And by that time, Victor had already stolen Yuuri's heart.

“Do you want to break up?” Otabek asks. He doesn't want to, but if it would make Yuri feel better, he can deal with being apart. They can go back to just friends. At least...he thinks they can.

Yuri blinks at Otabek, then punches him in the face.

Otabek clutches his cheek, surprised.

“How can you say that? Just because I still have feelings for Yuuri doesn't mean I don't have feelings for you!” Yuri screams. “God, I'm in love with you. My feelings for Yuuri bring nothing but misery. You make the pain bearable. You bring me happiness.”

“You're in love with me?” Otabek has never heard the word love cross Yuri's lips before, and he's restrained himself from saying it because he didn't think Yuri loved him yet.

“Of course! Isn't it obvious?”

“I don't understand. You've never even kissed me.”

“That's because I've been fighting a war against myself,” Yuri says, his tone sounding more like the hardened soldier. Otabek can't look away from his piercing gaze. A moment passes, then Yuri continues. “If I let myself kiss you, I'll be giving myself over to you completely. I'll forget about Yuuri.”

“Isn't that what you want, though?”

Yuri sighs. “It should be, but feelings aren't that simple. Part of me still wants to hold on to him. So I've been afraid to more forward with you.”

“Victor and Yuuri are getting married.”

“I know.” Yuri pulls out a handful of ripped-up scraps of paper. The wedding invitation.

“It's time to let go of him.” Even though Otabek says the words, he's terrified that Yuri will turn him down. That Yuri will keep holding on to this crush and let the pain of it make him more depressed day by day. He doesn't want to see that, his beautiful Yuri turning into a shadow of a person. “Please.”

“I should do it for you, shouldn't I?”

Otabek shakes his head. “No, you should do it for you. Let yourself be happy.”

Yuri's eyes widen as if he's understanding something for the first time. “Yuuri has been an important part of my life for so long. Because of him, I've become a better skater. He's been my source of inspiration. But he won't always be skating with me. He'll retire soon, and I can't just stop skating when he does.” Yuri closes his fist around the paper scraps. “I need to find a new source of inspiration, a new reason to fight. Otherwise...I'll never win again.”

There he is. The soldier Otabek has missed all this time.

“Yura,” Otabek says, lifting Yuri's chin so he can gaze into his eyes. “You've been my source of inspiration for far longer than Yuuri has been yours. Since we met eight years ago. So, please, let me give you inspiration in return.”

Yuri laughs lightly. “Thank you, Beka.” Then he tosses the ripped-up wedding invitation through the bars of the bridge, and leans in close to kiss Otabek. “Let's inspire each other.”

...

NOTES: Based on the prompt by @sageandginger: "otabek telling yuri he knows about his crush on yuuri? I was thinking that maybe Yuri’s trying to convince himself (and Otabek) that he likes Otabek (and therefore not Yuuri) and Otabek is like, ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I’m not an idiot??” Although if you had a different idea that works fine, that’s why I left it pretty open-ended at first."

[builtbybeeker-blog]

1st Post!

January 16th, 2017

I want to be clear. This blog isn’t meant for you. Well it is, if you get anything from it. If not, don’t read it. This is the first time I’ve ever “blogged” or put something personal out in the airwaves for other people to consume at will. My close friends and family most likely would call me a private person. I consider myself one. My last two instagrams were two separate posts, a year apart from one another, as a dedication to my fiance on her birthday... if that gives you any idea of my social media presence. Basically put, I don’t do this very well, so if you have a criticism of this, keep that negative energy to yourself, because frankly... I don’t give a shit about your opinion. It won’t change my day-to-day life one bit, so why try to bring me down?  

I find social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, whatever the hell else the kids are using these days) almost completely useless. Apart from connecting with those people who you’ve lost touch with over the years, reading an interesting news article, keeping up-to-date with current events (politics/sports), building your brand or business, or getting injury updates for my fantasy team... what the hell else could you possibly use it for? 

With that being said, I try to stay off social media because of “the feed.” Today social media is used by +1 uppers for +1 uppers. The unwritten rule of social media goes like this: How can I make my life seem way cooler than it actually is?I need to do this so all of my followers will feel jealous about my life, thus in turn making me feel confidence by the number of likes/comments I receive. Listen I’m a millennial, I get how looking cool makes you feel. Good. It makes you feel good. But at what cost? Everything has a filter. Every girl wears make up. Every girl changes the angle. I mean shit, there are photo editing apps now that you can make your waist look skinnier and your ass look bigger. I feel pity for those that use these to make themselves feel better. You have an insecurity issue. 

If I could offer one piece of advice, even if you don’t take it, free yourself from that daily time waster. Imagine for just 30 seconds... if you took even half the time you spend on a daily basis on social media... and redirected that time/energy towards doing something positive for yourself (reading a book, advancing your career, looking for your next step in life, hitting the gym, getting off your ass, doing those things you’ve been putting off forever) how much better off you’d be... rather than knowing that Suzy Fucking B. was just in Turks & Caicos and her boyfriend kinda got fat... like who the fuck cares? Nobody!!

So why am I doing this? Simply put, I’m doing this for me. This tumblr will serve as a daily/weekly (I haven’t decided this just yet) accountability tool for me. I decided that this year was going to be “my year” just as I have said to myself in years past, as I’m sure we all have. The difference is this year, I’m actually going to follow through with a year’s worth of body transformation. You see, I’ve been a hockey player my entire life up until three years ago when my career was cut short... by my inability to make it past the NCAA Division I level. You thought I was going to say a career ending injury, didn’t you? Well, you were wrong. I wasn’t good enough to make the NHL. I convinced myself that if I didn’t secure one of those 600 jobs that millions of players shoot for, that I was a failure. Obviously now I realize that this is a ridiculous standard to set for myself and that I should be happy with the career I had, but at the time... I did. I felt like a complete failure. I’ll share a little bit about my upbringing, so you can see how I would arrive at a conclusion like this. 

Imagine for two minutes if you will, that your father was a legend, a hall of famer, bumped shoulders with the greats, Gretzky, Messier, Jagr.. the list goes on. My old man played 20 years in the NHL, will be in the hall of fame someday, and was given the nickname “the little ball of hate.” He’s the only player in NHL history (still to this day) with over 500 goals and 2,900 penalty minutes. After his career was over he transitioned into scouting and now acts as the Asst Gm and Director of Player Development for an NHL franchise... so I basically what I’m getting at is: he’s kind of a big deal. My dad’s brothers all played professional hockey. One in Europe, One in the minors, and another one played NCAA Division I as well. My cousins play in the Ontario Hockey League with hopes of getting drafted in the next year. This section isn’t meant to make me seem like a braggart, rather to give you an idea of the standards I’ve had to live up to. In fact, I am the oldest and only son of my parents. I have four younger sisters. So all of my father’s hopes and dreams for me to make the NHL and follow in his footsteps was on display with how involved he was in my hockey career. I basically grew up in the rink and gym. When I was 13 years old, I started training as a hockey player with my dad and my uncle Tim, who at the time was playing professional hockey. I started skating as soon as I could walk and my mother was up at 4:45am everyday to take me to practice at 5:45am, because that’s the only time we could schedule practice.

I will spare you most of the details, but my hockey career took me different places. When I was 15, I was playing against 20 year olds and attending one of Detroit’s premiere prep schools, where EVERY single year, there was a kid who scored perfect on the ACT and SAT’s. Most of my classmates are going to be titans of industry, if they’re not already. Yes, I was privileged to be afforded all of these opportunities, but this curriculum in combination with my time in the gym, my time on the ice, and the 1.5 hour commute from High School to a different country (Canada) every single day, it made it kind of tough to get good grades or really be focused on anything but hockey. Between that experience and junior hockey where I lived with a surrogate family in Nebraska, Springfield, IL, Youngstown, OH, and other places, I was busier than most 15-20 year olds. I missed most of my high school dances for hockey etc. 

Why am I telling you all of this? You need to understand the type of pressure I put on myself to be the best player I could and to be in the best shape possible. Once my career was over, I was probably in the best shape of my life, and was like “Oh my God... I don’t have to workout!” I can relax, hang out, drink beer, go to parties, do whatever the hell I wanted to basically. I’ll never forget, when I was in college, we would do year-end fitness testing so that we’d have a baseline for the following fall when we came back to school and training camp. Everyone hated testing. My senior year when the underclassmen and next year’s seniors were doing their testing, some of the other seniors’ and I bought a 30-rack of natty light (classy) a pack of cigarettes and chain smoked drinking beer watching these poor bastards run until they puked, laughing the whole time. Now... I’m not laughing. Why?

I’m 28 years old. I’m 219lbs. I’m probably 20% body fat. I haven’t touched a weight in a year. The thought of going to the gym scares me. Not because I’m unfamiliar with what to do, but I’m dreading getting back into it. I have psoriasis patches that itch like hell on my scalp (probably from leaky gut), and I hate myself when I look in the mirror. My playing weight was between 187-193lbs with 8% body fat. I was in pretty good shape. It’s time for a change. The joke or nightmare is over. 

2016, however, ended on the best note humanly possible. I proposed to my fiance, surprised her with all of our family and friends, and I made a 6 figure salary for the first time in my life, ever. Since I’m getting married (still feels surreal to say), I promised my fiance that on our wedding day, I’d be in the best damn shape of my life and I’d be the best possible version of myself on that day (a theme I’m going to try and stick to over the course of this journey). So, this is an introduction to me, my life, this journey I’m embarking on as a normal human being, with no filters, no fluff, no bullshit, just the journey. So if you follow this journey and I inspire you in some way to go on a journey for yourself, don’t wait, just start. In 2017, I will transform my body into something I will be proud to call my own. After all, you only get one of these. So, cheers to the year, Cheers to this journey I’m starting, Cheers to the body I want. Nobody can stop me. I’ll bend, but never break. This body will be #builtbybeeker. 

- Beeker