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#I also added gloves like she has in my later season design but these ones are taller

p0pcorn-hearts · 3 days

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It's Kawaii~Chan time

I am gonna ramble about my rewrite so yknow, enter the theater with caution

I just wanna start off by saying I renamed her to Hanami, which is the Japanese word for flowers viewing, more specifically viewing cherry blossoms. I figured this fit her more "cutesy" design as well as her usually pink and white color pallette. Also excuse me if they look bad, these were made a bit ago and I, for some reason, decided it'd be best to use the mirror tool the entire time

So, for her Phoenix Drop High uniform I just redesigned the uniform and gave her the same every girl will have. I changed it to have a blazer and a longer skirt like actual school uniforms in America although I kept the socks, loafers, and bow because those all fit, I'm just also giving everyone the same pair of socks.

Her season 1 outfit has been drastically changed. I decided I wanted her to have a more lolita-esque style instead of just vaguely cute, and let's all be real here, her season 1 outfit sucked. So, I gave her a longer, puffier skirt, a shit ton of ruffles, and some cute gloves. I think now is also the time to have a little fun fact section about meif'was. Their nails and hair grow faster than humans, with their nails growing than both humans and werewolves. That's why Hanami has long nails and freakishly long hair

Next up is her adorable Love~Love Paradise outfit. I'm actually super happy with how it turned out and I'm in love with her little buns. Her bathing suit with all its ruffles was made up by me :D

Her Lover's Lane outfit is the one that went the most unchanged because it's honestly my favorite outfit of her's. It just looks the most visually appealing with the addition of dark pink being a primary color. I just changed the dress up a bit with the neckline and added ruffles

Starlight is honestly my favorite. There's just something about color block clothes that itches a scratch in my brain. The giant bow and see-through ruffles also added a lot. You cannot thank me though, I took this design from someone else's swimsuit. Her nails changing for the first time since season 1 and now having blue with the pink is also a nice nod to how she opens up to Zane about not really being herself

When Angels Fall. Oh God, When Angels Fall. I fucking *hate* their "disguises" in When Angels Fall. Buy I'll get into that later, right now, it's just Hanami. I didn't like her outfit much because she had literally never worn pants in the series before and to just suddenly toss her in a pair of jeans and t-shirt? Like it's supposed to show how drap everything is but why would she just have a t-shirt and jeans packed?? Starlight is an island resort and theme park, so most people will be wearing bathing suits, much more breathable fabrics than *jeans* and Starlight merch. That's why I gave her a different bathing suit bottom and a Starlight shirt. It's the least you can do when you're the most visually distinct character. She also is covered in bandages because cats, when stressed, will over groom and can injure themselves. So Hanami picks and scratches at her skin often due to stress so she has very chipped nail polish and is covered in bandages. Also she cut her hair (sad violin noises)

Her final outfit is for my "season 7". Jess hasn't made it but I want to eventually tie up my rewrite, so I'm making one. Me and my girlfriend refer to it as the "epilogue" although it's not really an epilogue, she just called it that once and I can't think of a better name. I gave her essentially a mix of her season 1 and Lover's Lane outfits because why not

Now that her designs are done I get to infodump about her personality (hehe)

She's basically the same as Kawaii~Chan, but I make her a better person. She doesn't manipulate Aphmau into joined her bakesale! She also tones down a lot, so while she still struggles with boundaries, especially when it comes to shipping, she doesn't have a fucking shipping shrine in her basement. She's also autistic in my rewrite, so her not getting boundaries, baking being her special interest, and her masking her behavior to fit what she thinks people want/expect of her all comes from that. Will I maybe end up projecting on her? With the shipping stuff yeah, but only because Aphmau and Kawaii~Chan made me think shipping people together until they stopped being friends with you was normal

So thats it, the exit to the theater is on the right, make sure to throw your trash away on the way out. Have a good day

#aphmau #aphblr #aphmau mystreet #aphmau rewrite #aphverse #aphmau fanart #aphmau kawaii~chan #aphmau phoenix drop high

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rosenongrata · 1 year

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A Year in Time — Chapter III: March

⋯☆ Summary: A chapter for every month in the year featuring Zhongli x my dearly beloved OC (Hauteclaire).

⋯☆ A/N: yayyyy i finally updated :') writing has been evasive this week lol

Prompts: 💖 Spring 💖 Kites 💖 Garden

⋯☆ AO3 Link.

⋯☆ W.C.: ~1.1k

⋯☆ CW: Tooth-rotting fluff yet again! nothing else i can think of!

Zhongli never bothered to add Glaze Lilies to his small, quaint garden. He preferred adding both other local and foreign flowers to his little collection—instead of dredging up old memories.

While his "backyard" may be more than tiny, it's enough room for his line of flower pots on the stone around his home. His beloved garden overlooks the vast sea to the east, the blue waves sparkling under the newborn Springtime sun. He likes to believe it's quite a beautiful sight for his lovely flowers.

Currently, he crouches down next to one of the pots, replacing the dirt and planting new seeds for the upcoming warm seasons. He hums an antique tune to himself—one many have forgotten and left in the past. When he completes each pot, he rises to his full height with a proper posture.

Dusting his hands off, he then puts his old, black gloves back on—the Cor Lapis gems on the back glimmering under the sun. He sighs contentedly, crossing his arms as a smile curves his features.

"A lovely day…" He mutters to his flora, his words carried away by the sea-salted wind.

—

A while later into the afternoon, Zhongli cruises about the market in Chihu Rock—as he often does. Is this perhaps his favorite place in the harbor? It very well could be with its quaint landscape and its busy nature, often flooded with foot traffic. The type of traffic he doesn't mind adding to.

Today, he contemplates purchasing a nice kite for the wonderful breezy weather. For who? Well, himself, but he doesn't need to tell anyone that… He can get away with a white lie or two.

He has a mild fascination with kites—more so their designs rather than their purpose. Humans can be so creative, he thinks, a soft smile on his lips while he observes the myriad of colorfully painted kites that are on display. Some kites are more simple than others, but he's always had a preference for the intricate and detailed things in life.

He points to a mostly white kite—its design is more mature compared to the rest on the table with how the shimmering gold accents flow and dance. It has the visage of a dragon sweeping through a white sky…or at least that's what it looks like to him. He frowns a bit on the inside, he now hopes he doesn't come off as self-obsessed to anyone.

"We sure do run into each other a lot these days, Zhongli." A familiar voice of a woman shatters his thoughts, causing him to whirl around to face none other than his newest coworker.

"Ah, it seems we do, Hauteclaire." He nods in agreement, offering her a tiny and almost sheepish smile before turning back to the table of kites. "Did you need assistance with something?" He glances at her as she plots herself next to him.

"Hardly." Hauteclaire brushes him off, "I was thinking of buying a kite myself, actually… Not for me, mind you." She snorts, amused at the prospect that someone as old and cranky as herself could ever play with toys like these.

"I see. For who, then?" He asks before swiftly purchasing the kite he was intently looking at earlier.

"A kid I saved a while back. He's been adopted since we last saw each other, but I figured I'd give him something to remind him of me. And, well, something to play with, you know." She explains lackadaisically, although a tiny smirk plays at her rusty red-tinted lips.

It's nice to see her relax for once, Zhongli thinks to himself. He knows how hard she works, but it doesn't matter to him how much he can appreciate a sedulous person, he still has his concerns about her health. Although he also knows that she's the only person in the world who can come to her own conclusions. Just as he has.

"How about this…" He begins, catching her attention enough to pull her gaze toward him, "I'll give you this kite for the young child. If you first test it out with me?" He smiles when her own smirk falters, he doesn't regret his proposition even a little bit.

…He just wants to see her take a break like he has. Is that so much to ask for?

"…You're kidding me." She snorts, her lazy smirk quick to rise back to her face. "Yeah, sure, whatever. As long as I don't have to pay for it." To an untrained eye, she remains neutral, but to him, it's obvious how flustered she is right now.

"Perfect." He nods agreeably.

After using some of the leftover money he got from…other sources to pay for it, they end up in his tiny backyard to test out the gilded kite.

Glancing around, Hauteclaire strides up to the red-painted fence and plants her hands down on the wood. She has a soft look of amazement on her face—lips parting and eyes wistful—as she stares out to the vast sea that is Zhongli's next-door neighbor. A salty breeze wafts in, brushing through her thick brown locks. She sighs.

"The weather is ideal, don't you think?" His words derail her train of thought—he's good at being a nuisance like that. Or so she claims.

"Ahem. It is." She clears her throat, forcing her expression to return ice cold. "So, uh… How does a kite work?" She asks, voice lowering in embarrassment.

It's not her fault her homeland hardly had any wind or breeze to speak of. Or anything else, for that matter. It was always barren and cold there.

"Hmm, well… Watch and learn." He smiles as he walks up to her side behind the fence.

He lifts the kite into the sky, allowing it to drift with the strong yet chilly sea winds. He keeps a firm hold on the thick string as his honeyed gaze watches the toy dance in the blue sky. She gasps silently, her own gilded stare watching the kite now too.

"We didn't have toys like these in my homeland… Not that my parents would've ever bought me any." She muses softly, a tinge of embittered hate in her tone when she mentions her parents.

"Where are you from, dear Claire? You've never mentioned it." He asks, glancing at her.

"…None of your business, Zhongli." She scoffs, a small protruding pout on her lips.

"Secretive as ever…" He mumbles, his eyes tearing away to watch the kite again.

For the rest of the afternoon, they chat and have tea after flying the kite for quite some time.

And today was also the day that he learned that she likes her tea with a lot of sugar.

#ship: zhongclaire #fic: a year in time #mine #zhongli x oc #genshin x oc #genshin oc #genshin impact #genshin impact oc

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my-fortnite-blog · 11 months

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These are the skins that I will be using for the Fortnite season 3: WILDS !!

Estas son las skins que estaré usando durante la nueva temporada de Fortnite Tierras Salvajes.

As you know the theme of the season will be like a tropical jungle and although mega city, and the rest of the biomes will continue on the map, I will show the skins that I will be using along with their respective presets inspired by "Fortnite: WILDS".

It is worth mentioning that Versa, Harlowe or Evie, which are my Main skins, I will continue to use them regularly, but in order not to be repetitive, I will not put their presets in the post since I have put them in other posts.

After that let's start.

Como sabrán la temática de la temporada será como de selva tropical y aunque ciudad mega, y el resto de los biomas continuaran en el mapa, mostrare las skins que estaré usando junto con sus respectivos presets inspirados en "Fortnite: Tierras Salvajes".

Cabe mencionar que Versa, Harlowe o Evie, las cuales, son mis Main skins, las seguiré usando con regularidad, pero para no ser reiterativa, no colocare sus presets en el post ya que los he puesto en otros post.

Así que empecemos.

• Rainbow Skye •

She is not wild but She is a summer skin, so Summer Skye will go perfectly with the summer event that will be in the new season.

Her set is designed 100% for summer, due to all the colors it has I have decided to call the set "Rainbow Skye". I added the reactive fish that launches fireworks, the sword that simulates a banderilla, and the banana glider, because everything together seems very tropical, summery, and very festival-like.

No es salvaje pero es una skin de verano, así que ira perfecto con el evento de verano que habrá en la nueva temporada.

Su set esta pensado 100% para el verano, debido a todos los colores que tiene he decidido llamar al set "Rainbow Skye". Añadí el pescado reactivo que lanza pirotecnia, la espada que simula una banderilla y el planeador de bananas, pues todo en conjunto se me hace muy tropical, veraniego y muy de festival.

• SUMMERGUM •

Another summer skin, also thinked for the summer event. Her set has many objects with metallic and shiny finishes because it is inspired by the metallic interior and/or exterior that some candy, sweet or chocolate wrappers that usually bring, in addition to the fact that we can see these finishes on her clothes such as her top or her glove.

Otra skin de verano, pensada también para el evento de verano. Su set tiene muchos objetos con acabados metálicos y brillantes porque esta inspirado en el interior y/o exterior metálico que suelen traer algunas envolturas de caramelos, dulces o chocolates, además de que podemos ver dichos acabados en su ropa como lo es la blusa o el guante.

•Tinta del Mar•

Another summer skin that has mystical and mysterious overtones. Although it may not fit 100% with the theme, I feel that she will look good.

Otra skin de verano que tiene tintes místicos y misteriosos. Aunque quizá no encaje al 100% con la temática, siento que se vera bien.

•HOLYNX•

One of my favorite Presets and one of the ones I use the most lately, the Lynx skin has this theme of a woman in a tactical suit with phenyl features. The theme of the season is "Wild" I feel that it fits perfectly.

Uno de mis Presets favoritos y uno de los que mas uso últimamente, la skin de Lynx tiene esta temática de como una mujer con un traje táctico de rasgos fenilos. La temática de la temporada es "Salvaje" siento que ella encaja además que tiene todo esta onda tecnológica.

•FIREWINGS•

There was talk of a volcano this season, and we didn't get to see it at the start of the season, it's probably that we'll find out about it later because we have a volcano emote and a couple other lava cosmetics in this battle pass.

Se estuvo hablando de un volcán en esta temporada, y aunque no lo pudimos ver en ese inicio de temporada, es probable que sepamos algo de este mas adelante ya que hay un emoticón de volcán y otro par de cosméticos relacionados con la lava en este pase de batalla.

• INDIANA JONES •

I don't even have to explain it.

Ni siquiera tengo que explicarlo.

• WARIROR PINK BEAR •

As you know we have this new mechanic of getting muddy, I feel that this skin fits perfectly, let's add that the skin has that makeshift soldier aesthetic, a very cool skin.

Como sabrán tenemos esta nueva mecánica de enlodarse, siento que esta skin encaja perfecto, a eso sumémosle que la skin tiene esa estética de soldado improvisado, una skin muy cool.

• El Husbando •

The husbando of the season with scouting skills, that's all we need to know. He tried to make his set combine with all his aesthetics and it stayed that way.

El husbando de la temporada con dotes de explorador, es todo lo que necesitamos saber. Trate de que su set conbinara con toda su estetica y así quedo.

• Meeto •

It is a skin belonging to the fox clan, I feel that it matches the theme of the season, as well as being a very cute skin.

Es una skin perteneciente al clan del zorro, siento que pega con la temática de la temporada, además de ser una skin muy cute.

• Summer Hunter •

It looks like a tactical hunter to me, so I equipped her with a large backbling, a discreet glider and a katana, the red details match with her hair I think she looks very good..

Se me figura como una cazadora táctica, así que la equipé con una mochila grande, un planeador discreto y una katana, los detalles en rojo de los accesorios combinan con su cabello, pienso que se ve muy bien.

If I had the skin I would have liked to place Lara Croft.

De tener la skin me hubiera gustado colocar a Lara Croft.

If you like the presets feel free to use them ^^

Thanks for reading, see you in the next post ✌🏼

Si les gustan los presets sientanse libres de usarlos ^^

Gracias por leer, nos vemos en el próximo post ✌🏼

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mliter · 9 months

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Fortnite Chapter 4 Season 3: WILDS.

From knights & castles, to futuristic japan, to the jungle? This season introduced one of the largest biomes in fortnite history. Lots of big things happening this chapter. Speak of, Slone is back!

The story this time centers around her. Those cracks that appeared back in season 2 caused the island to collapse, revealing an ancient jungle beneath the island this entire time. She somehow gets in contact with Optimus Prime and he tells the us that she alone knows the way forward. Anyways, something big is coming. We don't know what is is. It even has Optimus scared.

Introduced at the summer games fest, this season focused around the wild jungle. grind rails make a return with vines, there are plants you can bounce on and there's mud you can use to get around faster.

As annoying as it was at the start, i've come to like this biome. I still avoid it in solos though. All of the foliage spells trouble. Third parties go crazy in here. Speaking of, this season started out ROUGH. Gone are all of the movement items from MEGA. it's either raptors, cars, or your own two legs. Later into the season, grapple gloves and shockwaves were added. (thank god)

The battle pass was alright. We were introduced to Trace, Lorenzo, Rian and Era. These 4 are my favorites. If there's one thing i'll always be excited for, it's the new character designs. Lorenzo & Era look so mysterious, Trace and Rian just look cool.

This season also introduced new weapons. Things like the Flapjack rifle and Mammoth Pistol. The new weapons didn't excite me too much, but they really excited a friend of mine.

Also, this season's big collab was Jujutsu Kaisen. Big step up from star wars. They brought along a bunch of quests, the main four, and Nobara's hairpin technique and Gojo's purple hollow are two powerful abilities that players are able to wield. They're not too broken imo. Strangely balanced right, even for a anime collab mythic.

This season was ok. I saw a lot of improvement this time around. It's definitely the weakest of chapter 4. But it's alright.

#game log #fortnite

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

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how to cross a hurricane | m. rantanen

a/n: well... she’s finally here. i’ve had this idea in my head since early july. i’ve rewritten parts of this a ton since then, but it’s finally here. i’m really proud of this fic and i hope you all really love it! shout to @nolypats (who has been with me through EVERY version of this story, god bless you) @slapshot-to-the-heart, @jasondickinsons, and @danglesnipecelly for all of your supportive words. this would not have been finished without any of you. all that’s left is to say enjoy!

word count: 40,379 (eeeep!)

warnings: some swearing, a little vague smut at the end.

wine pairing recommendation: something with a low alcohol content because you’re going to be here for a while honestly. whatever you have in your fridge with the lowest alcohol content.

After eight months on the road, twelve countries, seventy-two cities, without more than a few days stop at the house she owned in Los Angeles, the apartment furnished by some local interior designer who thought they knew her tastes but never actually asked her what she liked, felt as good a home as any other. Really, after eight years of consistent travel, near constant comings and goings, the next stretch of time, the almost year in her calendar that was completely blank, was going to be the single longest Josephine Evans had spent in any one place since she was fourteen and still lived with her parents.

Taking time off, an entire year, wasn’t Josephine’s idea. She was a workaholic to the levels practically unheard of, but it was hard not to think about work all the time when her work was the only thing she had ever really wanted to do, a childhood dream made reality that people constantly tried to take away from her. She had almost broken when her manager, Krista, acting more like a general sending a soldier home from war than a manager, told her to pack a bag, pack a lot of bags, and get the hell out of town for a while. It hadn’t been a suggestion. There hadn’t been any room for debate. She made it clear to Jo, who she had known from the time she was eight years old, that this wasn’t a discussion. Jo had tried to argue for a month off, that was all she said she needed, but that had earned her a one-way ticket out of Los Angeles, and a firm ban on stepping foot in New York City either. Krista had told Jo that the fact that she was a twenty-three year old woman who worked her ass off every single day, but couldn’t even take a month off at a beach somewhere was something that needed to be rectified, immediately. Jo couldn’t do anything halfway, all or nothing, everything or bust, so she was chased out of a town she sort of ran with a wave of Krista’s hand, telling her that the world would continue to turn without her. Krista added insult to injury when she told Jo the world she ran would probably spin better if she actually took the time to rest her voice, get her head on straight, and deal with the recurring issues in her life before coming back.

Jo walked over to her fridge, finding nothing but the takeout she had picked up on her way to the apartment, her apartment, from the airport, and instead going for the wine fridge under the opposite counter. No one had stocked the fridge for her, but Krista had made sure the wine fridge was stocked and honestly, what more could she want? It took Jo a few attempts to find the wine glasses, mentally making a note to move them to a shelf she could reach without climbing onto the counter, taking her glass and a bottle of something white and sweet looking to the only part of the apartment that was exactly her taste, the massive, pillow-filled couch.

The wine was thankfully almost as sweet as it looked when Jo finally poured herself a glass. She let out a long, deep sigh, willing some of the stress of the day to melt away. No one in her life seemed to get that the very act of trying to take a break was stressful for Jo because all she was thinking about was everything she wasn’t doing, everything that was going undone, and what the results of the lapse in activity might be. Could she really put her entire career aside for a year? Jo had kicked and scratched and clawed her way to success in spite of a veritable army of men who thought they knew better than her. They tried to tell her she wasn’t talented enough, that she wasn’t a good enough song writer, that she wasn’t a good enough singer, that she didn’t have the “it” factor to make it. She had looked those men in the face, spit on their blatant sexism, and won every award they said she couldn’t, made number one album after number one album, sold out headline arena shows, all before she turned twenty-four. She was, unfortunately for them and the bets they made against her, a ubiquitous in the most unavoidable way possible.

The only problem was it was also unfortunate for Jo, something she hadn’t even been aware of when she was six dreaming of being the one on stage on the television, something she didn’t fully understand all the repercussions of when she signed that record deal when she was fifteen. Twenty-three-year-old Jo was now reaping the rewards of that contract, and the even more lucrative extension she had gotten two years ago, but paying a steep price for them. She got to live in penthouse apartments like the one she was in and pay for a sweatshirt that didn’t need to cost anywhere near as much as it did while not giving a damn if she spilled wine on it tonight. She got to go to parties people would die for just a glimpse of and hang out with people others dreamed out. But now, Jo didn’t feel like a little girl whose greatest wish came true. She felt absolutely and utterly alone, staring out at the beautiful Denver skyline, high rises and mountains sharing the landscape, without even her work to distract her.

Jo picked Denver much to the surprise of almost everyone in her life. She had grown up here. Well, Jo had done some of her growing up here. Her parents picked up and moved to Los Angeles for the sake of Jo’s dream that wasn’t even close to a career when they did. Jo left before she was even double digits and had tried her hardest for years not to spend too much time here. Nostalgia was a dangerous thing when experienced unchecked. Being in Denver was a veritable fire of unchecked nostalgia for Jo. She looked out and remembered her childhood with those same mountains in the background, remembered when things were simpler, when dreams were just dreams and not her everyday reality. Dreams were meant to be inside one’s head, not out in the world. They were always tainted during the move from one’s head to the real world. Being here in this city, Jo remembered when the life she lived was the purest dream she had ever had and she longed for simpler days.

Jo debated texting one of the few friends she knew was around the city; people were always coming in and out of Denver, which was just a hop away from her unfortunately beloved Los Angeles. Actually, Jo deeply hated LA and she didn’t really feel all that bad for saying it. She hadn’t grown up there, an LA transplant like almost everyone she knew, so there was no loyalty. The best things in Jo’s life had happened in LA, but so had the worst, some of the things Krista has been referring to when she had told Jo to get her head on straight out here in Denver. Jo wasn’t going to deal with any of that tonight. Instead, she was going to try and think of all the things she could possibly do in Denver that she couldn’t do in LA, both for the constant paparazzi and for the fact that LA had summer and not as much summer as its only seasons. Plans calmed her, even when she wasn’t supposed to have them.

She could go skiing, or, she could learn to ski anyway, maybe in the winter. It was only September, not exactly peak skiing weather. Winter reminded Jo of Denver always, a place she rarely made it back to anymore since her parents had since moved to Florida, like it seems most people’s parents do eventually. Jo’s success had just allowed them to go sooner than they would have otherwise. Winter made her feel like a kid again, the one that lived here in Denver with big dreams and missing teeth and frizzy hair that was supposed to be curly but no one had known how to take care of it. Jo couldn’t wait for the first snowfall, even though the leaves hadn’t even started to change color yet. Maybe she could go ice skating, if she wore a scarf around her face. Maybe she could build a snowman, even if she had to do it all by herself, and even if she didn’t have any gloves yet.

Maybe a return to Denver would be good for her. The mile-high air could lighten the heavy weight on her shoulders of people’s expectations and the pressure she put on herself because of them, letting her take a deep breath of non-suffocating air, nothing like what she was forced to breathe in LA. Maybe Jo might just learn how to take a break and give herself a break for the first time in a really long time, maybe in her entire life. Tonight though, tonight wasn’t going to solve anything. Tonight, Jo found the bottom of a bottle of cheap wine, the only kind she really liked, and then fell asleep in foreign sheets, but she didn’t really know what her own sheets were supposed to feel like anymore, so it didn’t make a difference. Jo slept like shit anyway.

Jo woke up not enough hours later, but when she was up, she was up. It had always been one of her biggest problems with remaining rested and level headed on the road; she couldn’t sleep just anywhere, anytime, no matter how tired she was. She stumbled into the kitchen with a sliver of hope Krista had supplied her with coffee along with wine, but her hopes were dashed further and further with each cabinet she opened, until her hopes were nonexistent. She knew her only option at this point was going out, not her strong suit, but a baseball cap from a local sports team, some old Levis, a plain white t-shirt, and pair of Raybans might have hid all of her best features, but that’s exactly what she was looking for at seven shitty in the morning on her first full morning in Denver.

Jo managed to get through a Starbucks drive through unseen and ended up just driving around under the guise of wanting to get a better feel for her new neighborhood, but really just needing to drive for a bit. A bit turned into hours and hours turned into needing to get gas. She finally checked her phone that day. Her phone was usually the first thing she did in the morning, the last thing before she went to bed, and a whole lot of what she did in between. She scrolled through, a few from her mom, asking about the apartment, some lingering group chats about some party going down in LA tonight, and one from her friend Helena that was actually relevant.

Hey Jo! Welcome to Denver!!!!! The hometown gaining the BEST old/new resident :) anyway, having a thing at my place tonight, chill people only, I promise. Think you might wanna show that Vogue covergirl face???

Chill people only was LA code for people who wouldn’t take her photo and post it all over the internet with a glazed over look in her eyes that the media would only infer terrible, inaccurate things from. Jo didn’t even get to think about her response before a second text came through.

Also some REALLY cute REALLY single guys if you’re looking for a little Denver somebody ;)

Jo was absolutely not looking for a little Denver somebody. Jo was looking for a little Denver nothing. After a series of relationships that all ended the same way with guys who were all essentially variations on the same concept of a man, Jo was not looking for anything at all. Jo thought a lot about love; it’s the reason she wrote music, in a bid to understand her emotions, love being the one she understood the least about. Jo knew that she was difficult to love, at least, that was the core behind every breakup she had ever gone through. The circumstances surrounding her, the ever present hurricane of the media and fans and the prying eyes of naysayers, made her almost impossible to reach, even though she tried desperately to make herself available for people to love. Josephine tried so hard, but the answer was always the same. She would always be too hard to love, require more effort than another nice, pretty girl with good intentions. Nothing about her was worth fighting through the category five hurricane made by the crowds in the stadiums she performed in, and the people outside the walls of them with pitchforks and daggers. No one ever got out from her attempt to love unscathed. She always caused the people she loved immense, insurmountable pain, and there wasn’t a fucking thing she could do about it. She just sat in the eye of the storm because she knew what it felt like to walk through it. She had tried over and over again, each time coming back to the calm of the eye, battered and bruised and worse for wear than the times before. It was uncrossable and as long as it was uncrossable, Jo would be unlovable. So, no, she wasn’t looking for anything in Denver, absolutely nothing at all.

Jo did need more than a couple of friends in Denver and drinking a bottle of wine alone in her apartment for the second night in a row wasn’t exactly the image she tried to portray. She shot Helena back a quick text asking for the details for tonight. Helena was a good person with even better intentions, but if Jo let it slip to even one good person with good intentions that she wasn’t looking for anything, she should prepare for a rumor to get out that she was seeing someone, which would start the witch hunt through her Instagram and Twitter follows, through every public record to find someone it could be. No one Jo trusted, Helena least of all, ever meant to; their intentions were pure. Someone would just tell a slightly wrong person that Jo wasn’t available who would tell another even more slightly wrong person and so on until the game of telephone reached the ears of someone whose mouth would move for a price from the gossip columns. Jo ignored her racing thoughts, rejected the option for a receipt at the gas pump, then drove to the apartment that didn’t quite feel like hers.

A delivery of groceries, a hot shower, and the removal of some odd pieces of art and decoration someone else had placed did go a long way in making Jo feel like this was more of a home. Jo had fussed around enough for ten people already before noon, so instead she dusted off her old list of shows she swore to various people she would get around to watching when tour was over, letting Netflix play episode after episode until it was actually time to get ready. Jo didn’t take a lot of time to get ready for things, much to the surprise of most people. She preferred sleep, something that she often lacked, so her getting ready routine was condensed to exactly the things she wanted, no more, no less. She wasn’t too picky about outfits either. Almost everything she owned for casual purposes went together. She wore extravagant, out of the box things all the time. Sometimes, it was nice just to be able to put on black jeans, ankle boots, and a black cropped long sleeve shirt and head out the door without any fussing. People fussed about her enough; Jo wasn’t about to join them.

The address was close enough for Jo to walk, something else she rarely got to do, just go for a walk outside. The early September air was chillier than she thought it would be and she briefly wished she had brought a jacket, but she would be drinking her jacket for the walk back and drunk Jo was liable to forget everything that wasn’t in her pockets. She punched in the code to the building Helena had given her, and made her way up to the penthouse suite, thrilled to find the party already in full swing when she arrived. Arriving too early usually gained her a lot of stares and whispers that made her regret ever getting off her couch.

Jo walked through the party with her head hung low, in search of Helena and her bright red hair. She was the easiest person to spot at a party because you could hear her from a mile away and if the music was somehow louder than her, she had fire engine red hair you could spot from across town. She was in the living room, tucked among a crowd of people Jo didn’t recognize anyone in, so she veered toward the kitchen instead where the drinks were most likely to be found, grabbing the first thing she could get in a hand on, none too picky after too much time being picky when she was younger and everyone wanted to impress her, to be her friend based solely on their own self-interests. Now, Jo drank anything she could get herself without making too much of a fuss.

“Hey, are you Josephine Evans? There’s no way, but my buddy swears you look just like her. ”

Jo let her eyes droop shut as she mentally searched for the right personality to put on for this occasion. The problem was Jo wore so many faces, so many different personalities put on in an attempt to protect the real her, that she felt buried under all the faces and the expectations they represented. People always wanted her to look a certain way, talk a certain way, act a certain way, be a certain, pleasing way. What was pleasing to some was abhorrent to others and Jo had fractured herself a very long time ago, putting pieces of her in all of the faces she wore, just enough so they were all believable as the true Josephine Evans. She used to think the faces were entirely false, things she created to protect herself. But if Jo’s time alone so far had told her anything was that there really wasn’t much of her left when you stripped it all away. And she already knew she was a bad actress.

Jo settled on the version of her that was cool, calm, and collected, could both crack and take a joke without feeling too much about it. The ideal party version of her that contained most of the self deprecating humor she possessed. Jo spun on her heels to face the guy who had spoken. Your standard man, tall but not too tall, medium colored hair, eyelashes that were too nice, a trait too many boys had, and a smile his parents paid good money for. Nothing to write home about, nothing to shrug your shoulders at, a median household income of a human being.

“I hope you didn’t make a bet on that,” Jo let herself, more like forced herself, laugh it out, “because, yeah, that’s me. Just call me Jo.”

Just call me Jo was probably one of her most used phrases, the ultimate ice breaker. For some reason, people were convinced that using her extremely public and logical shortening of her name opened a door to friendship, and guys tended to think the door was to her bedroom. It was just her name, like anyone else. The guy was talking and Jo wasn’t listening, hoping her neutral expression with active eyebrows was doing the work for her. His name started with a J, Jacob, Jason, Josh, something like that; all Jo knew is he was hitting on her, swinging way out of his league for the potential experience of Josephine Evan and well, Josephine Evans didn’t really give people who thought like that the time of day. She excused herself from the conversation shortly after it started in search of Helena or really, anyone else at the party who wasn’t like that guy had been.

Helena was virtually free, as free as a hostess could get, when Jo saw her next and took her opportunity to slide in next to the tiny redhead.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!”

Helena wrapped Jo up in a crushing hug, impressive given how small Helena really was compared to almost every other person at her own party. She left an arm around Jo’s shoulders, somehow, after releasing her from her grasp.

“It’s good to see you too, H,” Jo sighed, taking a sip of her beer. “Thanks for the invite.”

“For you, Jo? Always,” Helena assured her. “So, how’s the time off going?”

“It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours,” Jo reminded her softly, beer hanging near her lips as she spoke to take another sip when she finished.

“You and I both know that’s practically a lifetime for you,” Helena laughs. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you’d driven yourself mad or taken over a small country with half that time.”

Jo nodded softly. Helena might not have been too far off with driving herself mad in all reality. She has too much time to think. Jo with too much time to think led to far too many introspective thoughts that almost always became negative. She couldn’t help it though; she had always and probably would always be her own worst critic, including the people who were paid quite a lot of money to critique her. Jo did it for free, well, at the cost of her relationship with herself, and they lined their pockets with the profits off their critiques of her poorly wrapped as critiques of her art.

“Well, you know me,” Jo laughed it off.

“That I do, that I do,” Helena mused softly. “Which is why I single handedly have brought together Denver’s most eligible bachelors for you.”

“H,” Jo started, but Helena waved her off.

She grabbed a flower from the vase on the window sill, a daisy, but the sentiment was still the same, and tucked it behind Jo’s right ear, much to her chagrin. The look she was giving Helena could melt glaciers, but Helena just smiled wider at her friend, resisting the urge to crumble under Jo’s icy stare.

“Come on. You’re going to be here for a while. You can’t honestly tell me you want to be alone,” Helena’s small hands gripped Jo’s shoulders and pointed her toward the general population of the living room, “your whole time you’re here. Plus, there’s some real untapped snacks here and you need to broaden your horizons.”

“My horizons are exactly as broad as I want them to be,” Jo quipped back easily, the response sliding off her tongue effortlessly.

Helena scoffed and Jo could hear her friend’s eyes rolling, before she verbally blew past Jo, “Anyways, some Broncos players, some classic rich elite who live here because they just really like it, a couple of Denver Nuggets, and I hope you like hockey players, because I think the Avalanche boys are your most solid options in terms of looks and being decent human beings.”

“H, I’m not interested,” Jo said firmly, fingers crushing the daisy under her fingers as she yanked it out from behind her ear. “I don’t care what sports team they all play for. I’m not looking.”

“Oh, come on,” Helena groaned softly, popping up and down on her heels a little, making Jo scoff this time. “I get to live vicariously through you.”

“You assembled all the hot guys in Denver you wish you could fuck so I could do it and then tell you about it?”

If this was anyone other than Helena, Jo would’ve already been out the front door for this stunt. Helena deserved Jo’s presence more than almost anyone. There was no one who had stuck with her through more tsunamis of bullshit in Jo’s career than Helena. Helena actively supported Jo through thick and thin, ups and downs, diagonals and double-backs and every single ebb and flow. Also, Helena truly did mean well; she just couldn’t read between the lines to save her life.

“Hey, I did this for you,” Helena pushed back. “You haven’t been seen with anyone since whatever his name was, I can’t remember, they’re all the same. It’s time for you to, you know, dust off the vaginal cobwebs and have some fun.”

“I could engage with that,” Jo tipped her beer back and took a healthy swig, “but I’m not going to. I appreciate what you tried to do, but it’s just not where my head’s at right now. Maybe in a couple of months or something, but you know me. Too invested for casual, not enough time for serious, forever just drifting in the weird in between, destined to die alone.”

Helena breezed past that, knowing Jo long enough to know she was trying to change the topic by forcing Helena into a corner where the only way out was to accept the change of topic and correct Jo’s self deprecation. Helena knew well enough to know she wasn’t actually in a corner at all, just being made to seem like she was in one.

“Whatever.” With a shake of her head, Helena surrendered for the night. “Just talk to some of them though. They’re decent guys and you could use more than one friend in Denver.”

Helena failed to mention that apparently all of these men had geared themselves up for a night on the Bachelorette. Four conversations in that all seemed to start nicely, asking her about her tour, her asking about their seasons or whatever else they did, restaurant suggestions. But restaurant suggestions became asking her on dates. Asking her how she was liking Denver turned into neighborhood recommendations where they just so happened to live.

By the fifth conversation, some rich guy whose dad paid for him to have an apartment nice enough and a car nice enough that he knew people he didn’t have the talent or personality to know, Jo had officially had it. She needed a break, eyes scanning the party for Helena, but there wasn’t any red hair to be found. She could’ve ducked into the cluster of women in the far corner, but she couldn’t differentiate a single one of them from any of the other girls who looked and dressed exactly like they did at parties crazier than this one in LA. They could’ve been the same women, but even if they weren’t, they were trying to be the same as them and Jo wasn’t in the mood to be asked to follow them all on Instagram and if they could tag her in their stories. Jo spotted the next best thing, a back stairwell tucked out of the way, vacant of any other partygoers, and slipped away from the guy with more hair product than her to make a break for it.

Any empty rooftop greeted her at the top of the winding staircase and for that, Jo couldn’t have been more grateful. The rooftop air was cool, cooler than when Jo had walked over. She let out a long, drawn out breath, hands gripping the railing’s edge to ground her. She felt weightless in the worst way possible, without substance, like she could float away with the nighttime breeze. Despite the fact that millions of people would probably miss her, Jo felt like no one would if she floated away right now by a breeze from another realm taking pity on her, carrying her to some place that wasn’t this life. People would miss Josephine Evans, their favorite singer, their idol, the girl they could sleep with and instantly catapult themselves to a new level of fame, the girl whose coattails they could ride to the highest of heights. But no one really knew Jo, not even Jo herself, so who would actually miss her?

Jo felt the tears fall down her cheeks before she even registered that her eyes were cloudy. They came too fast for her to notice. Maybe it was dumb, letting something like too much attention from guys, something a lot of women would kill for, make her cry, but it was all too much for Jo. It just made her feel hollow, like only the faces she presented mattered, not her. Jo was really crying because she knew under the faces people liked and wanted to be seen with, between the girl who went to galas and toasted with ungodly expensive champagne, between the one who Jo consciously chose to be at this party tonight and the brave face she put on for in depths interviews, there wasn’t a whole person left, just a few unused fragments, the least likable pieces of her. That's what was making her cry and had been making her cry for a long time.

Jo apparently wasn’t even allowed to cry in peace because the door swung open in the middle of her moment.

“So, now is a bad time then, huh?”

The voice was deep, deeper than she expected, a thick accent, either Finnish or Swedish if she was venturing a guess. Jo wiped her eyes, but didn’t turn to look toward the voice, so she was genuinely surprised when she heard the dull thud and felt the vibrations of a body making contact with the railing next to her.

“Definitely a bad time to tell you I think you’re pretty, huh?”

Jo couldn’t help but laugh, but it was clogged, the laugh catching on the lump in her throat from crying. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and shook her head softly. A weak, pitiful smile pulled at her lips. She sighed before turning her head to look at the owner of the voice.

“Definitely a bad time,” he said, his voice softly than before. “Need to talk about it?”

He was everything Jo had expected, but somehow more. She was right to think Swedish or Finnish, but his hair was blonder than she had expected, gentle waves at the ends. Jo wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. Even in the dark, she could tell his eyes were a stunning shade of blue, the kind that looked like the oceans that he grew up near, the kind people wrote albums’ worth of songs trying to find the right words to describe. His jaw was sharp, cheekbones even sharper, but softened by dimples between them, endearing in a way that made Jo wish she was a better person for a moment. Even with him leaning against the railing, Jo could tell as soon as he stood he would make her feel as physically small as she felt inside right now.

“No offense, but I’m not interested,” Jo managed to get out in a way that vaguely sounded curt.

“I’m not anymore either, so glad we’re on the same page,” he told her with a smile that had to have cured cancer somewhere once. “You seem like you need a friend more than you need some other guy telling you that you’re pretty tonight.”

“And you, random rooftop guy, want to be my friend?”

Jo couldn’t help but snort a little and roll her eyes at her own question.

“I’m Mikko,” he told her, “and yeah, I do. I think you could use a friend and I’ve been told I’m a bad texter, but a pretty good friend.”

“You come up with the intent to what, hit on me, and switch gears into friendship like that?” Jo asked with a snap of her fingers, her voice heavy with disbelief.

Mikko nodded softly, “Yeah, just like that. I came up because Helena said we’d get along and you’re pretty. That second thing is still true, you are, but you need friends more than you need some guy asking you out. So, guess I’ll take the upgrade to friendship.”

“I think you mean downgrade,” Jo corrected him gently.

“No, definitely upgrade,” Mikko laughed. “I don’t have to buy you dinner or try and impress you, but I still get to hang out with a cool new person who needs a cool person in her life. That’s an upgrade, baby.”

Jo was careful about the people she considered friends, the people who got to see her cry. Before her life became something unrecognizable to the little girl with a dream, Jo had still been careful about her friends. Jo used to understand that she wasn’t for everyone when she was younger, that she was who she was and people could either take her exactly as she was or they could leave. That girl didn’t exist anymore and her reasons for being careful about her friends came from a place of looking to protect her reputation and her career over herself, because what, in truth, was she really even protecting? But Mikko was different. Jo had moments like this, of someone attempting to become her friend at a party, but this wasn’t that. He already felt like her friend. He felt like someone the little girl with a big dream and no idea what would come out of it would have been friends with too. Jo hadn’t met someone like that in a long time.

So, Jo took a deep breath and did what seven-year-old Jo would’ve done; she made a friend.

------

Jo pulled herself out of bed the next morning, displeased but unsurprised at the pounding in her head. She drank and she cried, two things bound to make her head pound the morning after. It was Advil or bust for the first thing she would do today, even before checking her phone, something she religiously did first. Jo let herself fall back into her covers after swallowing three Advil, eyelids drooping closed for another half an hour as the medication kicked in well enough so she could actually do her normal routine the next time her eyes opened.

She dragged her phone off the nightstand, groaning at the volume of texts that were waiting for her. Thankfully, it seemed to be largely group chats and could just be cleared and ignored. One text stuck out, just two words from an unsaved number, less than an hour old.

Hey friend :)

Memories of last night, technically this morning if you were into technicalities or booked a lot of airline tickets, flooded to the front of Jo’s sore head. Mikko. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, debating on if she, now sober, was really going to entertain this or not, which hinged entirely on if she really believed he had set aside any intentions he had walking up onto that rooftop and was capable of keeping them set aside. Jo’s thumbs twitched over the screen, debating on what she should do, but one thought kept coming up again and again. She wanted to understand why she had thought about him like she thought about friends when she was a kid, full of nothing but wonder, still believing in forever and magic and the idea of everlasting happiness. He had reminded her of all of that and Josephine needed to know why.

Hey friend

Keeping it easy breezy, beautiful, Covergirl. Jo rolled out of bed after saving his phone number then ditching it in the covers before going to wash her face and start a pot of coffee for the day. After the coffee had started to drip into the pot, the best sound hungover Jo had ever heard, she went back to collect her phone, seeing she already had a reply from Mikko.

Still down to do lunch today? Or are you too hungover from all those tequila shots? ;)

Jo furrowed her brows down, but she couldn’t help but smile a little at the message.

I don’t do tequila shots, must have me confused with some other girl who you bullied into being your friend on a rooftop last night ;) but lunch is still good

Mikko hadn’t taken no for an answer yesterday on having lunch with him today. He had insisted that friends who caught other friends crying on rooftops during parties didn’t let the aforementioned friend have lunch alone the next day. Jo told him it wasn’t a rule. Mikko said it should be. The bit went on for far too long considering Jo was just fighting about lunch and the fact that Mikko seemed nothing but persistent, a fact he had proven true by texting her before ten in the morning after a night out to confirm her presence at said lunch. Luckily, lunch was at her place so she didn’t exactly have to commute anywhere. Lunch out was risky for her and Mikko’s eyes had lit up at the prospect of being able to wear sweatpants to lunch because if he was going out with her, he could be photographed and might have had to wear jeans, something he’d been horrified of last night. Jo looked over the menu Mikko sent her, pleased that he picked a taco place because tacos were very publicly Jo’s favorite food of all time, and sent him her order. He said he’d grab it on the way to her when practice finished later.

By the time Jo managed to pull herself together enough to shower, she needed to get ready. Well, as ready as someone had to get for lunch at their own apartment with a new friend who had already committed to showing up in sweatpants. Jo figured matching his style commitment was her best play, comfortable joggers and one of her dad’s old Colorado Rockies t-shirts she had confiscated years ago. It reminded her of home, of the city she was in now. Jo was home, technically, even though it didn’t feel like it just yet.

Mikko more than fulfilled his end of the bargain when he showed up, in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, both carrying the logos of the team he played for, and two bags of take out definitely too full for what they’d ordered, even taking into account that Mikko could definitely out eat her based on body mass alone. Jo didn’t account for the fresh from practice look though, hair still damp, waves more pronounced now than they had been last night. There was a small cut on his cheekbone that looked fresh, making them appear even sharper somehow. In the bright light of her kitchen, a smile like a lazy afternoon on his face, Jo, who was very used to being around very pretty people, was getting a little bit distracted by Mikko Rantanen in her kitchen. Until he spoke, anway.

“I should get you an Avs shirt,” was how Mikko said hello after already pushing his way into her apartment. “You’ve got to rep the best team in Colorado.”

“I thought you,” Jo opened a cabinet opposite Mikko who was already ripping into the bags and spreading the food out, “were supposed to be supportive of all of the local teams.”

Mikko smiled at her and Jo felt like that smile could fix a heartbreak and cause it at the same moment, “I am! I just think you need to be more supportive of your friends.”

“When would you have liked me to have gotten this?” Jo asked Mikko after grabbing two water glasses from the cabinet. “We just became friends twelve hours ago. Is water okay, by the way?”

“I thought it would be a top priority for you. And yeah, water’s good.”

Mikko laughed as he talked, something Jo was realizing was common place for him. He was fidgeting, feet tapping on the hardwood floor, unable to settle, but it wasn’t from anxiousness like Jo’s almost always did. Mikko seemed to just have more energy than he knew what to do with, energy fed by pure childlike joy he had possessed every second Jo had seen him so far. His hands fussed with the takeout containers, his right foot hadn’t stopped bouncing, but he was doing it all with a smile on his face, dimple showing itself almost constantly. His energy was overwhelming Jo who was used to people completely unlike him. She was used to people who were so bogged down by the lives they lived that continuing to live them was exhausting in a way that bred negativity and squandered joy. Mikko seemed genuinely happy to be here in Denver in Jo’s apartment with her right now and more than that, he seemed genuinely happy to be Mikko Rantanen, something Jo just couldn’t understand.

“You seem eager, so get me one and I’ll wear it,” Jo threw back at him, an easy smile coming across her face as she started to fill their water glasses from the fridge.

“Oh yeah?” Mikko raised his eyebrows at her. “You can afford to get your own. Plates are where?”

“Wow, rude,” Jo scoffed, but it was fake and Mikko knew it before she’s even finished her rebuttal. “But if you can get me one for free, why would I buy one? And upper cabinet to the right of the stove. Silverware is the drawer below that.”

“Because you want to support the Colorado Avalanche organization because your friend is a part of it,” Mikko retorted, snagging two plates and way more silverware than Jo thought they needed from the drawer. “I got a few extra things I thought you should try, by the way, since you’re looking at me like I got too much food. I did. I did it on purpose. ”

With everything spread out and open on the table, Jo placed the waters, her only contribution to the spread, by their plates and sat down in a previously unsat in chair. Everything around here was too new. Things like this would make it feel more like her place eventually. Mikko had pretty much gotten one of everything on the menu as far as Jo could tell from her brief memory of reading it over earlier, but she could see why he had with the pretty incredible smells and sights laid out on her table.

“Half and half of everything, yeah?” Mikko asked Jo, fork and butter knife already in motion to the taco closest to him.

“You know,” Jo reached out and placed her hand on Mikko’s hand holding his fork, ignoring how warm and soft and large his hand was under hers, “I’m going to dip into traditional gender roles for a sec and briefly force them on you. How about I get a real knife and do the cutting?”

“That’s definitely a better idea,” Mikko agreed, the ever present laugh in his voice ringing more prominent.

Jo grabbed a knife out of the block on the counter and got to work cutting everything in half. Mikko took his half as she went, until his plate was full. Jo may have hit him with her elbows a couple of times and whined he was getting in her way. Mikko was apparently experienced enough with being elbowed over food due to having two sisters and the team that he just continued on, acquiring half of each taco, burrito, and side dish he could fit.

“I’m coming for my other halves,” he threatened Jo emptily with his fork when she finally finished the cutting. “Don’t get greedy.”

“Mikko, I consider myself a woman who can really eat,” Jo informed him, nabbing two half tacos to start, “but I think eating even my half of everything is beyond me.”

“Quitter,” Mikko smirked before shoving a large bite of a taco into his mouth.

“Not a quitter,” Jo countered before taking a bite of one of the half tacos on her plate. She almost moaned at the taste, but kept it inside. “I’m just a girl who knows her limits.”

As they both devoured their meals rapidly, Jo filled up much faster than Mikko who somehow cleared his first full plate and was creating a second, casual conversation flowing easily between the new friends. When Mikko finally reached a point where his inhalation slowed, his plate mostly cleared again, he looked over at Jo, who watched the smile fall from his face for the first time since she sat down across from him. She noticed instantly. It was easy to notice a lack of something that had always been there than to notice new things sometimes. All Jo saw was the lack of a smile on his face, not the genuine concern that had replaced it.

“Want to talk about why you were crying last night?” he asked Jo softly, watching as she pushed unfinished rice and beans across her plate to avoid making eye contact with him. “You don’t have to, obviously, but there’s no way there isn’t something worth talking about.”

“It’s nothing,” Jo tried to assure him, but Mikko wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Look,” he sighed, tossing his napkin onto his plate, “I said I was going to be your friend and sometimes friends tell you shit you don’t want to hear. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but it just seemed like that wasn’t the first time you cried at a party like that and I don’t think you should be crying at parties is all.”

Mikko was right. Even Jo, as stubborn as she could be sometimes, could admit Mikko was right. But Mikko could be right and Jo could still not want to deal with it. Those might be conflicting views, but Jo could deal with conflict better than anyone else she knew. She could put it in a box and ignore it, pretending it didn’t exist, pretending that it wasn’t eating her up inside how much she truly felt like there wasn’t anything good enough left in her to be worth anyone’s time, that the dream she first had here in Denver, the dream she had worked her entire life for, meant she lost herself. At least, that she had lost a version of herself anyone could love.

But that was too much for lunch on a Saturday with someone she had known for under twenty-four hours, even if she felt like she had known him for longer, even if he brought a blanket of comfort around Jo with his words, even if seven-year-old Jo would’ve liked him, even if he was asking.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It was stupid,” Jo brushed him off.

Mikko sighed again and nodded softly, “Okay, you don’t have to talk about it, but it wasn’t stupid. How you feel isn’t stupid.”

How Jo felt was stupid though because she had more than almost anyone could ever ask for. She had apartments like this one. She had the ability to take a year off on a whim. She could go anywhere she wanted, buy whatever she liked. She had friends that other people would kill to even meet, even if a lot of them weren’t what people imagined them to be. She had a life millions of people would kill for, and yet Jo felt like no one really knew her. Jo knew that no one really knew her because Jo couldn’t even find herself, the real her, among everything she created to become that person that lived the life she lived. She didn’t think the real her existed. She was just the personalities and faces she created. It was almost hollow space underneath it all, with just a few useless fragments, the worst parts of her, left floating in the space.

“Thanks, Mikko,” is all Jo could come up with.

“You don’t believe me,” he told her, catching on to the sigh in the way she said his name. “It’s okay for today. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Jo almost laughed at his words. No one kept trying and that’s how Jo wanted it. She didn’t want to admit everything underneath, the emptiness of it all, because then, if a person who cared enough to keep trying discovered there was nothing worthwhile under the facade of it all, they’d leave too and there was no way Jo could stomach that. Jo didn’t laugh though. She simply nodded and changed the topic to ask Mikko about the preseason game they had tomorrow. He noticed the look in her eyes when she changed the topic, but didn’t say anything. He just memorized it, how her eyes shifted, the heaviness in her face, the glossiness of her eyes, and put it in his growing folder of things he knew about Josephine Evans, even if he didn’t understand the expression at all. One day, he would. He would keep trying until he did.

------

Jo hadn’t gone more than four days without Mikko Rantanen showing up at her apartment post-practice, or requesting her presence at his when he was feeling particularly lazy, with wet hair, a dimpled smile, and some incredible smelling takeout since she moved to Denver a month ago. Even after training camp transitioned into the first games of the season, Mikko showed up, bag of food and charming personality in hand, ready to fight Jo’s demons. Really, just ready to crush her at Fortnite. He was horrified she had never played and brought over his old Xbox so he could teach her and they could play at her place too. Jo was terrible, absolutely tragic at it really, but Mikko made her laugh while trying to play, even though Jo was normally such a perfectionist she didn’t really want to do things she was bad at. Doing things she was bad at with Mikko was the exception.

A knock on Jo’s door let her know what time it was. Mikko didn’t even text beforehand anymore. He just showed up, several entrees in tow in case Jo didn’t like something he picked out after the olives incident. Mikko had brought Jo over some Greek takeout, a personal favorite of Jo’s because of the prevalence of olives in Greek food. Except Mikko ordered everything on the menu that didn’t contain olives.

“Why didn’t you get the little olives?” Jo had asked Mikko when he laid out the food on the coffee table. “The yummy marinated ones?”

Mikko looked at Jo with absolute disgust. His mouth dropped open, lips curling back, before he stuck his tongue out and made a gagging noise.

“You like olives? Gross, Jo. I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” Mikko told her, fake gagging when he said the word olives.

Jo shrugged off Mikko’s gagging, “Actually, it means we’re supposed to be friends, if you’re familiar with How I Met Your Mother anyway.”

“Nate talks about that show a lot and Tyson too, but I’ve never seen it,” Mikko told her, sitting down on the couch with a falafel in one hand and a messy plate of food covered in tzatziki in the other.

“It basically, well, they applied it to couples and stuff, but it totally works for friends too.” Jo caught herself before she could start, trying to walk back how the show had intended the meaning before she came off like she had feelings she was certain she didn’t have for Mikko.

“Anyway, it’s called The Olive Theory and it suggests that in every relationship, whatever kind of relationship, that there should be one person who likes olives, me,” Jo pointed at herself, “and one person who doesn’t like olives, you,” she pointed at Mikko now. “That way, I can eat all the olives I want and you don’t have to eat any. Plus, I can be your hero and rescue you from olives on your pizza so they don’t go to waste. It’s the whole like, two halves of a whole, opposites attract, people balance each other out, thing.”

Mikko nodded softly, thinking about Jo’s words carefully for a moment, before saying, “As long as I don’t have to eat any olives, this is good with me.”

Jo laughed before taking a bite of her falafel wrap, moaning openly at the taste. Mikko might be a shit teacher at Fortnite, and a kind of stupid boy sometimes, but he had figured out exactly the kind of food Jo liked and had never failed her. Mikko laughed a little at the sound, but he enjoyed that she liked something so simple as the food he brought over. Mikko liked Jo, genuinely and honestly and fully. Jo liked Mikko, cautiously at first, but even she, the self-coronated queen of denial, couldn’t deny that she did really like him. She liked being around him. She liked who she was around him and she couldn’t deny it. She noticed herself changing when he was around, that she felt lighter and more at peace, finding it easier to feel happiness and to laugh when he was around. Jo had spent a lot of time over the last month trying to figure out why she was feeling like that.

People could think about themselves as much as they wanted to, journeys of self discovery, self exploration, what have you, but part of it was looking through the eyes of other people at herself and the life she chose to live. Jo looked at herself through the rose-colored glasses of other people’s eyes all the time for affirmation, for support in her times of self doubt, but she also used it to validate her own negative views of who she was, finding the angriest, reddest view of herself when she felt like she deserved the worst pictures of herself that were out there. Jo had millions of eyes to view herself through, millions of slightly different versions of herself to see, to choose from at any point, but she couldn’t figure out which was the most accurate, many swaying too positive or too negative. It all was so jumbled, people’s misconceptions getting the way of seeing her with clear eyes and an honest mind. It overwhelmed her often. But the most overwhelming thing that had happened to Jo in a long time was realizing she was looking at herself through the eyes of one person a lot now, one person who seemed to actually see Jo, the real Jo she thought was lost in the hurricane forever ago. Jo was starting to think the way Mikko Rantanen saw her was her favorite way to view herself and it scared the hell out of her.

-------

Jo made it all the way to two days before Halloween before Mikko sent her an incredibly aggressive but incredibly Mikko kind of text.

Since you haven’t been to an avs game yet, I’m assuming you are only my friend because I bring you food. I will no longer be bringing you food until you come to a game. You’re in luck though because I reserved a box seat for you for the game tomorrow and have already pre-ordered one of everything our kitchen makes to the box for you because I do care that you eat, but I feel like our friendship is very one-sided right now and would like to see more effort out of you. Bring a friend if you want! See you tomorrow, Jojo!!!

The text was immediately followed by another with the information on where Jo could pick up her tickets and wristbands tomorrow before the game. As much as Jo had been trying to avoid public places, deeply enjoying the hunt the media was having, “Where In The World Could Josephine Evans Be?” Jo was excited about the prospect of getting to do something. She texted Helena, knowing she would reply immediately, which she did, and want to come with, which she did. Helena ordered a car for tomorrow to pick her up, then Jo, because Helena didn’t want to DD, a fair thing, and neither did Jo, also a fair thing, so calling a car was the only remaining option. Jo sent Mikko a quick text back, confirming her and Helena’s presence at the game tomorrow, and she had gotten a smiley face in return. The little smiley face text had Jo falling asleep with a smile, and waking up with it still on her face the next morning.

Despite earlier bullying less than a day into their friendship, Jo still lacked Avalanche gear, something that greatly upset Mikko when she had snapped a picture of her watching the first game of the season, an away game, team-spirit-less. His displeasure had been well known, a pouting photo of sweaty, post-game Mikko with his thumb turned down coming over in return that day. Jo still hadn’t acquired any Avalanche gear since that day though. As she was getting dressed later, she realized the closest she could get was a long sleeve burgundy t-shirt and that Mikko would just have to deal with it. She knew she’d get an earful after the game, especially considering since sport-averse until you were talking the athletes Helena was wearing an Avalanche t-shirt when the car picked Jo up later. She didn’t judge Jo for not though, just decided to leave it up to Mikko later.

Picking up the tickets was easier than Jo had thought it would be and a baseball cap low on her head in addition to the heavy crowds was letting her keep a low profile. Her and Helena managed to make it up to the box level without incident. Jo double checked the box number on her phone, confirming 256, before following the signs towards the box. As Jo got closer, she started to hear more and more people fussing about, boxes inhabited by people nearby. She stopped in her tracks when she reached 256, finding the door wide open, many voices floating out from inside. She glanced over at Helena, who shrugged, fearless in the face of the unexpected, and breezed past Jo to walk right in. Except Jo didn’t realize Helena had wrapped a hand around one of her wrists and pulled her into the box right along with her.

The first person who made eye contact with Jo, a girl wearing a Compher jersey, went wide-eyed when she saw Jo. Jo immediately wanted to spin on her heels and get herself anywhere but here when the girl turned and aggressively tapped the shoulder of a blonde wearing a Landeskog jersey. Helena on the other hand was already filling a plate full of snacks, blissfully unaware of Jo’s desperate need to throw herself out of this box headfirst to avoid whatever was next in a box of people who recognized her who she didn’t know. Jo was, fortunately, wrong about what she thought would happen next.

The blonde girl turned around and she smiled brightly when she saw Jo, making a beeline over to her. She wrapped her arms around Jo before she even said anything and Jo couldn’t hide her confused expression when the woman released her from a tight, crushing embrace.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” she sighed, then shook her head softly. “I’ll have to yell at him later. I’m sorry. I’m Mel, Gabe’s wife. I’m sure Mikko’s told you about Gabe, right?”

Mikko had told her about Gabe. And Mel. He often came over to her place after being at the Landeskog’s, in search of a friend without a young child who would kill a bottle of wine with him without any judgement. Still, Mikko loved and idolized Gabe. That much was obvious from how he talked about his captain, and he talked about Mel almost like a mom sometimes. Jo took a deep breath, and then nodded softly, deciding to give Mel a fair shake herself, see what she thought.

“Okay, good,” Mel laughed a little. “Sorry Mikko didn’t tell you anything. I told him to give you a heads up what you were walking into here.”

“Yeah, he didn’t tell me anyone would be here,” Jo said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, a naturally defensive posture.

“Of course he didn’t,” Mel groaned, head falling back in obvious displeasure with Mikko. She sighed before lifting her head to look at Jo again, “Well, this is where all the wives and girlfriends and I guess some friends watch the games usually. You’re welcome to food and over there’s wine and beer. Everyone’s really excited to meet you, by the way. Mikko talks about you a lot, you know.”

“He does?”

Jo didn’t mean for her words to come out as floored as they had, shock dripping from each letter. Why would Mikko talk about her to his teammates and their partners? Why was Jo watching the game from this room, of all places? Why would-

“All. The. Time.” Mel punctuated each word, cutting through the fog of questions in Jo’s mind. “We were wondering when he’d bring you around. I think he was trying to make sure everyone would be cool or whatever before he did. Oh, reminds me, he left something for me to give to you.”

Mel walked over to where she’d been sitting, then came back with a black bag and handed it to Jo, a wide, knowing smile on her face.

“There’s two seats open next to me after you put it on for you and your friend,” Mel told her before sliding back down to her seat.

Jo felt a little silly opening a sort of present right now, but Mel kept glancing over her shoulder at her encouragingly, waiting for her to open it. Jo looked into the bag and knew what it was. It wasn’t wrapped, so it wasn’t difficult to guess. She grabbed the small Post-It note sitting on top of it first, recognizing Mikko’s sloppy handwriting instantly.

Figured you wouldn’t pick up any Avs gear before the game because you hate me. Hope it’s not too big :) - Mikko

Jo pulled out the brand new Avalanche jersey from the bag, fingers tracing over the logo on the front, sliding over to the number stitched onto the shoulder. 96, Mikko and Jo’s birth year. She sighed as she flipped over the burgundy and blue jersey, Rantanen in bold letters across the shoulders. She knew as soon as she looked into the bag this was what it would be, but holding it in her hands, standing in a room full of the women who were actually with the guys warming up on the ice below wearing them too, Jo didn’t really feel like she should put it on.

“God, you two are so cute,” Helena whined at the sight of the jersey in Jo’s hands with a plate of food in one of her hands and a chicken wing in the other.

“H,” Jo sighed.

“I know, I know, I know,” Helena rolled her eyes in reply. “I know you’re not like, boning or whatever, but something is going on. You’re holding the proof and you better put it on. Don’t make me put down this chicken wing to fight you over it.”

Separating Helena from her food was one of the highest crimes Jo could commit. Plus, Helena’s threat to fight her wasn’t completely empty. Jo sighed, defeat sinking in heavy on her shoulders, before she tugged the jersey over her head without a second thought. She slid her arms into the sleeves, letting it settle over her, tugging at the shoulders and the neckline to try and make it feel more comfortable. It wasn’t the fit that was the problem. The name on the back made Jo feel like she was on fire and that fire was seeping into her skin, becoming burning questions Jo was trying so hard to think about. She didn’t want to know the answers to them. She didn’t even want to think about them. She took a deep breath and let it out forcefully, trying to blow out the flames, turn the questions into ash, and forget about it. She was partially successful and that was probably as close as Jo was going to get today. She picked up the Post-It note from where it had fallen on the floor and folded it up carefully, sliding it into her wallet for safe keeping. His handwriting was terrible and his gift was causing her mind to race in directions she didn’t want it to go, but they were both reminders that Jo knew at least one really, really good person. Some days, one good person was more than enough.

Jo watched the game from her seat between Mel and Helena, mind everywhere but on the rink in front of her the entire time. She was so zoned out, she missed when Mikko even scored, but she didn’t miss his name and face across the Jumbotron for what felt like ages after the puck hit the back of the net. Jo couldn’t catch a break to think about what the gift of a jersey with his name on it along with a ticket to sit among the wives and girlfriends of his teammates meant. There were no other friends present; Mel lied. Jo couldn’t take a break from his face on the screen, his name emblazoned on what felt like every inch of the building, on the screen, on the backs of the fans in front of her. She couldn’t find enough air to try and think about what it all could mean and took it as a sign from the universe that maybe the question needed to go back into the box, into a mental vault, for the time being. A sign that now wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to complicate this, just let a jersey be a jersey and a ticket be a ticket and a Post-It note be a Post-It note. Jo took a deep breath, and locked the question of intent in a deep vault and threw away the key for now.

She joined the wives and girlfriends down by the locker rooms after the game, getting Mikko straight from the shower, hair fully wet as her reward. He smiled bigger than Jo had ever seen when he saw the jersey actually on her, shuffling over to her with his head rocking side to side with each step. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up off the concrete, making her yelp in surprise, before setting her down quickly. He was laughing as he did, an open mouthed smile on his face, eyes crinkling shut.

“Did you have fun?” he asked her.

“I did,” Jo nodded softly, leaving out the internal turmoil she had been working through throughout the game and left purposely unfinished. “Congrats on the goal.”

“And assist,” he added with a playful smirk. “Were you even watching?”

“I show up and you critique how I watch? That’s rude of you, Rantanen,” Jo verbally tossed back at him, a smile pulling up the corner of her mouth as she looked up at him.

“Eh, guess a guy can’t win them all,” Mikko shrugged. “Want to come back to my place? We can watch a bad movie, well, part of a bad movie until I fall asleep. It’s closer.”

“Was sort of counting on it,” Jo admitted. “Kind of already told Helena she could leave if she wanted to.”

Mikko put a hand over his heart, face twisting into shock as he faked like he’d taken a shot to the heart. His knees even buckled slightly, trying his best to sell it.

“Using me for my couch, huh?” he asked Jo with a shake of his head. “My couch and food.”

“Those are your only redeeming qualities,” Jo joked, scrunching her nose up at him as she smiled again. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and to that bad movie, yeah?”

Mikko threw a heavy, tired arm over Jo’s shoulders, and pulled her into his side for a moment as they headed out toward the parking lot. Jo let him drag her into his side as they walked, enjoying the warmth he gave off in the cool, fall Denver air.

“Everyone was good, yeah?” Mikko asked her softly when they neared his car. “I told Mel to make sure everyone was cool and not to like, take pictures of you and post them or anything. I really didn’t want to be the person that ruined Denver for you.”

Jo felt his words hit her chest and soften everything for a moment. The walls she built to protect herself shook from being hit with the full force of how much he cared about her, gaps forming in the walls that his words slid between and found her behind it all. Jo had never said she didn’t want to go to a game because of the risk of people finding out she was hiding out in Denver. Mikko had never even asked why. He didn’t ask because he already knew the answer. He was desperate to make it work for her, to try and make space for her in his life so she could be in it as much as she wanted without feeling like everyone in the world was watching. It had taken him a month to work out the best way to get her at a game, but let her have her privacy, let her be just Jo.

“Everyone was great, Mik,” Jo replied. “Thank you, for everything, honestly. Everything since I came here really.”

Mikko’s heart swelled in his chest. Not just for today, but for everything. It was small, nondescript, but the feeling behind the words rang true because it was. Without Mikko, Jo wouldn’t have started to feel at home in Denver. Without Mikko, Jo would know one person in this city. Without Mikko, Jo would’ve never found her favorite taco place and her third favorite Greek restaurant of all time. With Mikko, Jo wouldn’t smile so much.

Without Jo, Mikko wouldn’t know what it’s like to see someone and immediately realize that that person is supposed to be in your life. There was no rhyme or reason to that feeling, but Mikko had gotten it that night on the rooftop and every single interaction with Jo since had done was prove that feeling to be correct. Josephine Evans was supposed to be in his life and he was supposed to be in hers, the least complicated part of it all.

------

Jo didn’t think when the year started that this was how she would be spending her Thanksgiving. For most of November, which passed like October had seemed to, Jo didn’t think she would be spending her Thanksgiving like she would get to. Her parents usually travelled since Jo often wasn’t able to make it home for Thanksgiving and Christmas in the same year. One or the other was tied up in some performance or a series of flights that couldn’t time out to get her home when she needed to be for family dinner, so her parents often spent the holidays on a beach somewhere. However, with Jo semi-permanently parked in Denver for the time being, and her younger brother a short flight away in Los Angeles, Thanksgiving was coming to her for the first time ever. Her mom had promised to do a large chunk of the cooking, not because Jo couldn’t, but because her mom’s cooking was her favorite and Jo didn’t get to have it much anymore.

Jo was like a kid at Christmas, which her apartment was already decorated for, when she found out she was actually going to get her mom’s cooking for Thanksgiving and that her little brother, who was a little annoying but also one of the people Jo loved most in this world, was coming too. Mikko had been over when everything was officially confirmed and Jo started to worry if she had enough serving dishes or not.

“I’ve only done Thanksgiving a couple of times,” Mikko shrugged when Jo asked him if the stack of serving dishes she managed to collect would be enough, even though she had verbally gone through and assigned each one a dish on her family’s traditional menu. “I really couldn’t say, Jo.”

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” she asked him when she realized she didn’t actually know.

“Gabe and Mel usually host something? I’m not really sure actually. No one has really made any specific plans,” Mikko replied, horrifying Jo a bit.

Someone not having plans for the holidays? Josephine Evans’ true nightmare. She didn’t even think before she spoke.

“You could always join us,” Jo told him. “You know you’re always welcome with me.”

Mikko smiled so brightly in response to Jo’s words, brighter than all the lights on her Christmas tree combined. He accepted her invitation easily, and promised to bring a dish before he seemed to remember he couldn’t actually cook. He promised to bring whiskey Jo’s dad would like instead of trying to cook, deciding to spare her family from the potential horror show that could be.

It didn’t surprise Jo when Mikko showed up thirty minutes earlier than she had told him to, her hands a complete mess of flour and pie dough when he knocked on her front door Thanksgiving afternoon. Jo groaned when he did because she wasn’t exactly in the position to get the door. Her mom was an equal amount of a mess next to her, elbow deep in the turkey, and her dad and brother were immersed in football. They hadn’t even heard the door. Jo rinsed off her hands as fast as she could, not fast enough not to earn a second knock from Mikko before she could get to the door.

“You’re covered in flour, Jojo,” Mikko chuckled when he saw her.

“And you brought a box?” she challenged, eying the cardboard box in his hands.

“Brought a couple of kinds of whiskeys Gabe told me to get,” he smiled at her, dimples prominent on his cheeks. “I’m not even going to pretend I picked them out. Anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, stay out of my kitchen,” Jo laughed as she opened the door wider and motioned him inside. “You made a mean box of leftover Chinese takeout, but that’s about it, Mik.”

“We all have our strengths, okay?” he countered, scrunching his nose up at Jo. He shifted the box to his left hip to free his right hand up to tug on the end of Jo’s French braid, “This is cute.”

“It’s just a French braid,” Jo mumbled, brushing a few loose pieces out of her face in a vain attempt to hide the slight color that had risen in her cheeks from his compliment.

“It’s cute,” Mikko repeated as he kicked off his shoes, knowing full and well how Jo felt about shoes in her house. “Should I take these to the bar then?”

“Come meet my mom first, then I’ll introduce you to the father and the brother,” Jo told him.

He followed her, halving the typical length of his stride to do so, literally making space for Jo, something he did in the figurative sense all of the time. Mikko dropped the box off on the edge of the counter, as far away from Jo’s baking as he could get, when he reached the island. He didn’t want to even sort of maybe possibly get in her way and mess something up for her today. She had been talking constantly about it, smile growing impossibly wider each day as Thanksgiving got closer. Mikko had spent all of his Thanksgivings so far hosted by European transplants who knew next to nothing about the holiday itself. This one, with the Evans men screaming at the television in the living room, the Evans women in the kitchen where they loved being together, there was something in the air that separated this Thanksgiving out from the others Mikko had seen. Family. Mikko could feel it hanging heavy but comfortably in the air. There was a lightness to Jo though, something Mikko had only seen glimpses of before when he’d managed to temporarily lift the clouds. The lightness seemed constant today, something Mikko wished for Jo all of the time.

“You must be Mikko! We’ve heard so much about you!”

Jo’s mom reminded Mikko of Jo, but it was distant. Jo might have been thirty years younger, but Mikko swore Jo’s soul felt older. Their smiles were the same though, even if Jo’s was rarer, Mikko got it to show more than anyone else and knew it well enough to recognize it on her mom’s face. She was wearing earrings shaped like turkeys with multi-colored feathers and an apron with a corny pun Jo would never be caught dead in, no matter how old she got.

“Mom,” Jo groaned, giving her mom a firm look for her comment.

“Aw, Jo does like me,” Mikko joked before giving her a little shove that was a little too hard causing Jo to stumble sideways.

Mikko caught her wrist, keeping her from stumbling too far. She glared at him as he pulled her back solidly on her fuzzy sock covered feet. Mikko laughed at her glare, knowing Jo who was almost a foot shorter than him really couldn’t do a thing about her anger with him if she wanted to, regardless of her motivation.

“I like him,” her mom nodded in approval.

“I’m not even sure you liked me that fast and you gave birth to me,” Jo mumbled, not quite loud enough for her mom to hear, but plenty loud for Mikko to, who snorted in response.

Jo’s mom surveyed the two before deciding to let whatever she had just missed go in favor of returning to her bird, the turkey that was going to be her number one pride and joy that day, kids included. Jo tugged Mikko’s forearm to get him to follow her into the living room. Mikko grabbed his box on the way, bottles inside clinking together as he walked. Their entrance into the living room went entirely unnoticed by the men engrossed in the football game on the television. Jo cleared her throat as the whistle on the television blew, seeing an opening to introduce Mikko.

“Dad, Luke, this is my friend Mikko. He brought whiskey.”

Jo gestured over to Mikko, who put on his best smile, the one Jo still thought must have cured cancer somewhere once, and shook the box a little to make the bottles inside rattle. Her dad looked him up and down, the assumption among Jo’s family being that they were either dating or almost dating and for one reason or another not admitting it to anyone, so her dad was giving Mikko the look he’d given Jo’s past boyfriends.

“Dad,” Jo sighed, “cut him some slack. We’re friends and he brought whiskey.”

Mikko flushed a little when he realized he was getting the stare down because her dad thought there was something beyond what they could see going on between him and Jo. Mikko fidgeted with the edge of the box where there was a small hole, trying to avoid her dad’s harsh gaze. It was unearned, but it just reminded Mikko more of what he didn’t have, what he couldn’t have, which was all of Jo. Mikko was trying so hard, so incredibly hard, not to fall in love with Josephine Evans, but it wasn’t really working for him. He knew she wasn’t ready. He knew there was too much noise, the storm in her head was too strong, and that he would lose her if he tried right now because he wasn’t through it. Mikko wasn’t even sure he had gotten into the storm yet. He felt like he was just on the edge of it, staring into the darkness of it all, watching the winds pick up and toss aside everything. He couldn’t even see Jo through it all most of the time, but he caught a glimpse of her before, the real her behind it all and she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, infinitely better than how he had ever imagined someone could be. He was going to get across it. He just had to wait, take his time, otherwise the storm would pick him up and deposit him miles away from her, battered and bruised, unable to even get back to the edge of it again.

“Whiskey?” her dad perked up, eyeing the box with a raised eyebrow.

Mikko nodded, dropping the box onto the wet bar in Jo’s living room. Her dad was up off the couch and next to Mikko before he could even get the box open all the way. Jo had understated how much her father loved nice whiskey, because his hands were already grabbing a bottle before Mikko could and Mikko was closer to them. Mikko pulled the other out while her dad read over the first one and Mikko thanked his lucky stars that Landy had not just recommended four bottles to get, but also took the time to run Mikko over each whiskey, the important flavor notes, how they were aged, and some basic information about each distillery. Still, he was grateful that the first one her dad had a question about was one Mikko had actually been to the distillery that made it before.

“Is this local? I haven’t seen it before,” her dad told him, eyes not leaving the bottle.

“Yeah, it is,” Mikko confirmed. “This local place, treats them sort of like a rye whiskey even if they aren’t. It’s a cool place too, actually. Jo and I have been. They have a bunch of small batch stuff, all really good.”

“Oh, that place we went with Nate and Landy?” Jo called out from the kitchen, hands already back in her pie dough, figuring Mikko’s personality plus whiskey could manage her father from here.

“That’s the one!” Mikko called back, grabbing a glass with each hand from the back edge of the wet bar.

“Ah, that was fun! We should do that again,” Jo replied, followed by a loud huff as she worked to combine the crumbly pie dough by hand.

“Luke, you want one?” Mikko asked Jo’s brother who hadn’t left his spot on the couch.

“Yeah, pour me whatever you guys are having,” he told him, obvious in his tone that his eyes were still trained on the football game.

Mikko dropped down on the couch, two glasses in hand, and passed one to Luke, Jo’s dad dropping down on the opposite side of Luke with his own glass in hand. Mikko watched her dad sip the whiskey carefully, and let out a breath of relief when he nodded softly in approval and went for another sip. Mikko didn’t know if he was ever going to have to impress Jo’s dad in the way he wished he would have to, but impressing him now would go a long way to making that future conversation easier for him. Her brother was much easier.

“So, catch me up on the game,” was all it took for Luke to start talking to him.

In the kitchen, Jo’s mom finally got the turkey in the oven as Jo started to roll out the dough for the apple pie. The game picked up in the other room, the boys all shouting at the television over something that happened. Jo’s mom used the increase in volume as cover to try to pull some information out of her daughter that she knew she would never willingly give.

“You failed to mention he looked like that,” her mom told her with a bump of her hip against Jo’s. “He’s a gorgeous young man. Seems sweet too.”

“Mom,” Jo groaned, her attention still on the pie dough on the floured counter.

“Josephine,” her mother countered, stealing Jo’s tone, “he’s a catch. Catch him already.”

“Mom, stop,” Jo sat the rolling pin down, pivoting with her hip now on the counter’s edge to face her mother. “He’s a friend, a good friend, but I don’t want to be with anyone right now. You know that. Being single is good for me right now.”

“Sweetheart, do you even notice how he looks at you?” her mom replied, exasperation heavy in her voice, but her volume staying low. “He looks at you like you say you’ve always wanted someone to look at you. You’ve literally written songs about how you wanted someone to look at you like he looks at you. He really likes you and it’s so obvious. So what if it’s not the best time?”

Jo wiped her hands off on a dishtowel as her mom spoke. Her mom was genuinely trying, something she often did, but she wasn’t really listening to Jo, something she often did as well. Her mom cared, deeply, but she cared about what she thought other people’s priorities should be, her vision for someone else’s life, more than what the other person actually wanted. Right now, and honestly moving forward into forever as far as she was concerned, Jo didn’t want to put anyone in the war path of her love. Her love wasn’t gentle. It was calamitous, life-altering in the worst way possible. People she loved lost their privacy, their independence, their ability to decide if they even loved her back without the pressure of millions of peoples’ expectations. They also had to endure all of Jo and the chaos in her mind. Jo wasn’t easy to love, so difficult she didn’t even see how loving her could ever be worth it to anyone. Even if someone was stupid enough to decide she was worth it, Jo couldn’t put anyone she loved through the experience of loving her. Least of all someone like Mikko.

“Mom, if I wanted your opinion, I would’ve asked,” Jo said curtly, knowing her mother would keep pushing if she didn’t stomp out any hope, blow out the candle she had lit for the idea of her daughter with the tall Finnish boy on her couch. “There's no chance that’s ever happening, okay? That’s not how I feel about him. It’s not how I want to feel about him. I want to be friends with him and I am. It’s not settling. It’s what I want. Please, stop pushing.”

Her mom threw her hands up and shook her head at Jo, displeasure evident on her face, but she let it go. She didn’t even call Jo out for the most bold faced lie she had told her since she was a little kid here in Denver and pushed her brother off the swing and broke his arm. Jo felt a hell of a lot of things for Mikko Ratanen friends didn’t feel, but her mom didn’t call her out on it because she knew her daughter was still lying to herself too.

By the time dinner was on the table and the Evans family plus Mikko sat around to eat it. Luke and Mikko were in a heated debate, well, heated for Luke, over if football was a better sport than hockey. Mikko wasn’t one to actually get heated. He was just enjoying getting to talk about one of his favorite things in the world, hockey, as much as he wanted with the brother of a person fast moving their way up the list of Mikko’s favorites. Mikko’s fork was in hand, moving toward his plate, ready to consume the amazing spread in front of him, but Jo’s mom cleared her throat and unnecessarily tapped her wine glass. It was unnecessary in a group of five people, but also unnecessary because the glass shattered when she tapped it just the wrong way with her knife. Thankfully, she hadn’t poured herself wine yet and it seemed to break in just a few pieces, but unfortunate because Mikko’s fork had to return to his napkin.

Jo was, as she often was, a step ahead of Mikko, collecting the shards in a spare cloth napkin. Mikko stood up to try and help, but really couldn’t figure out any way to help as Jo was already on her way to the trash can, glass shards in tow. Not even a step later, she was opening the cabinet to grab another wine glass, her mother still flustered and rambling apologies from the table. Mikko saw his opportunity to help as Jo looked up at the cabinet. He watched her shoulders drop when she realized a replacement glass was out of reach for her. Luckily, it was very much within Mikko’s reach. He headed over into the kitchen, sliding up easily behind Jo.

“Need a hand?” he asked her softly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

She huffed in reply, knowing her need for his help was obvious and that he was just milking everything he could get out of her actually needing him openly for once. Jo needed Mikko Rantanen more than just for his height, but she definitely wasn’t ready to admit that yet. Jo’s eyes went wide, before she blinked to cover it up, when one of Mikko’s large hands rested on her waist from behind as he reached up with his free hand to grab another glass. The feeling of his warm palm over her shirt over her skin shouldn’t have been enough to send her mind racing, questioning, but it was. It was one simple touch and Jo was ready to do anything to make it stop so she wouldn’t feel her heart picking up in her chest anymore.

Mikko sat the glass down on the counter in front of Jo, a smug smile on his face as he looked down at Jo who had no choice but to tilt her chin up to look at him. Jo watched Mikko’s smile fall, soft pink lips parting a little as his eyes widened, pupils growing. She saw his eyes jump down from hers to her red wine stained lips, then back to her eyes, then back again. His head moved down just a little, almost imperceptibly, and Jo’s breath caught in her throat. Mikko knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but she was so beautiful and she was right in front of him, right there, with his hand on her waist, and her lips dark with wine, and he just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss her. But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Doing this now would mean his days doing it were limited, a trial period he couldn’t extend. He couldn’t do this. He forced a smile on his face, leaned down quickly, and tapped his forehead against hers briefly. He grabbed the wine glass and spun out from her, mind and heart racing with what could have been. He gave up that moment, for the chance at a lifetime of others with her. He’d give up any single moment for a chance at infinite ones. He made that choice again and again, like it wasn’t one of the hardest things he had to do.

------

November bled into December, Thanksgiving gave way to Christmas, and the last vestiges of fall disappeared under the first blankets of winter snow. Jo watched it all happen, from her apartment, from Mikko’s apartment, from the wives and girlfriends and Jo box at the Pepsi center. She felt the season change, stretching across the two months, but that wasn’t the only thing that was shifting. Jo was shifting towards something she didn’t want to say sometimes for fear saying it would ruin it. She was shifting toward happiness and it was all Jo could think about as the car rolled to a stop in front of Gabe’s driveway.

Jo she tugged at her sweater, pulling at the sleeves, at the slightly too tight bottom band, at the neckline, really any part that was touching her skin. It was itchy beyond belief, but she was pretty sure that she was about to take home the non-existent prize of ugliest Christmas sweater at the party tonight. Jo had been out with Helena for dinner, so she threw the sweater on in the car on the way over to Gabe’s and was regretting never having tried it on before this moment. But, the look on Mikko’s face when he saw just how ugly the sweater was would be worth her temporary discomfort.

She punched in the gate code at Gabe’s and made her way up the driveway, smiling the whole way, something Jo had been doing a lot more of lately than she usually did. She told herself it was the hometown air, mile high and clearer than any other city. She told herself it was the fresh snow falling regularly now, deep into December. She told herself it was Christmas and a lot of people were happier around Christmas. Jo’s happiness wasn’t temporary though. It was a shift, slow and steady, a constant pressure forcing her out of the mindset she settled in years ago, the one where she always needed to be pleasing other people to be happy, the one where she needed everyone’s approval to find her own joy. She knew the clearer air, the snow, and the holidays weren’t the pressure. The pressure was a tall, somehow clumsy Finn who wanted nothing more than to see Jo smile every single day.

He didn’t try to make her happy with jokes and gimmicks and other things that were essentially bandaids to Jo’s heaviness. He didn’t try to pull a funny face while jumping just high enough for Jo to see from the other side of the walls she has built to protect herself, the ones she thought were too high for anyone to climb. Mikko wasn’t climbing them, knowing full and well that him getting over them wouldn’t truly help Jo. It would make her just okay for a little while longer, make the way she lived a little more bearable, until it destroyed them both. Mikko was taking the walls apart, brick by brick, his patience and his steadiness guiding the way. He never got frustrated when some of the bricks went back up in the middle of the night while he slept. He got up the next morning all the same and went back to work, taking the walls apart piece by piece, at whatever pace Jo would accept. Mikko hadn’t given up in four months, and he wasn’t planning on it, not until all the walls were gone and the bricks were destroyed, crumbled back into dust, and Jo could see herself the way he saw her the few times he managed to make a hole in the wall and actually see her behind all her defenses.

Jo opened the door into Andre Burakovsky. It was an accident and he shouldn’t have been standing directly in front of the front door and he wasn’t hurt in the slightest, but Jo felt bad about it all the same.

“I’m dumb, it’s my fault,” he assured her. His mouth dropped open when he saw her sweater as Jo hung up her jacket in the front closet. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen and I wish we had a contest because you’d so win.”

“I would so win,” Jo agreed, fussing with her curls to get them reasonably back into place

“There should be a contest. Maybe you can bully Gabe into getting some sort of prize anyway because you deserve it, ” Andre told her, his signature wide smile on his face. “He’s in the family room last I saw him by the way, since I know you’re looking for him.”

Jo blushed at Andre’s words. He had caught her eyes tracking over the party that was in full swing, looking for the guy who had technically invited her, but she probably could’ve shown up anyway without his invite. She ducked out on Andre, blush still deepening with him laughing in the background, and made her way through the living room and kitchen into Gabe’s family room. She was old news by now, a days old newspaper no one wanted to read anymore, and it was Jo’s favorite thing about the Colorado Avalanche. She was Mikko’s friend Jo. Full stop. No additions necessary.

“Jojo!”

Jo heard Mikko before she saw him. She technically felt him before she saw him either as two heavy, muscled, ugly sweater covered arms wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground, making her squeal.. He was laughing as soon as her feet left the ground. Jo’s hands gripped one of Mikko’s forearms around her waist to steady herself as Mikko rocked slowly side to side, weight shifting from foot to foot, with Jo in the air in his arms.

“Mikko!” Jo shouted through her laughter. “Put me down!”

“You’re so easy to pick up though, and now you can actually see the party,” Mikko pointed out unhelpfully.

He set her down anyway, knowing that when Josephine Evans made up her mind, such as wanting to be put down, she was a woman who would figure out how to get her way, Mikko’s shins be damned if that’s what it took. Mikko had a game to play the day after today and wasn’t excited about doing it with shins bruised by Jo’s boots.

“This sweater,” Mikko breathed out as Jo turned to face him. He was in disbelief as he looked at it, “Jo, this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Are you proud?”

Jo spun slowly on her heels, letting Mikko take in the absolute monstrosity she had bought to wear just for this. Mikko was in disbelief, written plainly all over his face, as he observed the sweater in all its terrible glory. Jo had more than delivered when he texted her and said it was an ugly Christmas party. Mikko loved the sweater, a true ugly beauty, but he thought the best part was that Jo put her hair in those little half space buns, the rest of her hair in curls falling down her back. He thought she was the cutest person he’d ever seen and he only knew one way to deal with it in a healthy way Jo would actually appreciate.

Appreciate might have been the wrong word.

Mikko reached out with two large hands and gave her little half buns a squeeze while saying, “Your antlers are cute.”

“Mikko, I swear to god, one day you’re going to die and it’s because I kill you,” Jo informed him with a tone so casual you would think she had just ordered a breakfast sandwich.

“And what a way to go,” Mikko just laughed in response. “Mel made spiked eggnog. You interested?”

Mikko knew Jo was interested before he had even asked, which is why it didn’t surprise him in the slightest that she took off for the kitchen, dragging him by his hand to get to the eggnog. Mikko had released when he stepped into Jo’s apartment on November 3rd, almost two months ago now, just how much Jo loved Christmas, because it had already been decorated that day he walked in. She had offered no explanation for the decorations being up so early other than that it was her apartment, she could do what she damn well pleased, and if Mikko didn’t like it, he could damn well leave. He stayed. Mikko always stayed when Jo was involved.

“Those are some pours there, Jo,” Mikko told her as he eyed the cups Jo was already filling for them from the pot. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re a growing boy,” Jo countered, shoving a full cup into Mikko’s waiting hand. “Drink your milk and maybe you’ll grow big and strong.”

Mikko couldn’t help but laugh. He might make Jo laugh a lot and Mikko laughed a lot in general, but no one made him laugh more than Jo. Even on his worst days, even on Jo’s worst days for that matter, she could always pry a full bellied laugh out of him. It wasn’t even prying. Mikko would willingly give it over to her even when all she offered him was a shitty joke in exchange. It wasn’t lost on Mikko why that was. It wasn’t lost on anyone in the room, or really anyone who had ever spent four minutes in the same room as Mikko and Jo. Mikko looked at Jo differently from other people. Debate what you want about loving someone or being in love with someone, Mikko knew Jo didn’t want him to be in love with her and he respected her wishes more than how he wished she felt, but Mikko Rantanen loved Josephine Evans and it had taken only a few months for it to happen. Mikko realized it the other day on the plane coming back from a road trip. All he wanted was for the plane to get to altitude so he could turn on his phone and text Jo about something funny that had happened since his phone had been in airplane mode. All he wanted to do was get home and see her. All he wanted was her. And that’s not how you feel about people you don’t love.

“Does the alcohol mean that the good stuff in milk cancels out?” Mikko asked Jo with one half raised eyebrow and one fully raised eyebrow.

He couldn’t lift one without the other, but he tried anyway. Mikko always tried.

“I don’t know,” Jo shrugged as she put the lid back on the pot, her full cup in her hand now. “Drink it and we’ll see if you grow some more. You’re still a little too small. A couple more inches and a few more pounds and you’ll be perfect to dress as Fezzik from the Princess Bride next year for Halloween.”

Mikko smiled and laughed through his reply, “I’d rather be the Wesley to your Buttercup though.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid idea. You’re even already blond, no wigs necessary,” Jo smiled up at him, lips at the edge of her cup.

“Hey, Mik, I need a pong partner.”

Josty was standing in the kitchen doorway, ping pong ball in hand, already with a slightly glazed over look in his eyes, a few drinks clearly already in him. Mikko definitely wasn’t the best pong player at the party, but his long arms meant he could be kind of shit and still get away with it.

“You good?” Mikko asked Jo, attention focused solely on her as he waited for confirmation.

Jo nodded and shooed him off with a wave of her hand to go play a round or two or seven knowing Josty. She could see the pong table set up in the corner of the family room from here and watched Mikko’s face light up when he sank the first cup. It might have been the bitch cup, but he lit up nonetheless. Jo lasted all of about thirty seconds at her observation point in the kitchen alone before Mel slid in, leaning up against the kitchen island next to her.

“Nice sweater,” Mel told her, giving the younger girl a little shove on the arm to get her full attention.

“It’s itchy as hell, but you know the sacrifices we make for beauty,” Jo joked with her, an eye still on the tall blond boy in the corner of the other room.

“You two are cute, by the way,” Mel told her with a smile edging at her lips. “I know there’s nothing going on, before you even say it. I’m just saying you two are cute together, that’s all.”

“Mel,” Jo groaned, but the older girl cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“I said what I said,” was all she offered Jo in response.

Jo was pretty sure every single member of the team had cornered Mikko and every single significant other had cornered Jo at least twice now since September about their friendship. Several people insisted they were hiding it, a “real” relationship. Jo always turned her nose up at the idea that friendships didn’t count as real relationships because her friendships had always been the most consistent, best kind of relationships Jo had ever had in her life. Her romantic relationships were unnecessarily complicated with what felt like the entire world feeling like they had a right to an opinion. She felt exposed, like she wasn’t allowed to love people without the world’s approval and even if she had it, she had to love at the pace they wanted, which was so fast that Jo felt all the air rush out of her lungs every single time. Romantic relationships thrived on patience and time, letting them flow as they were supposed to rather than forced up a river before the boat was big enough to handle the rapids. Jo had never gotten to do that and so, they all failed. Her friendships weren’t like that; they were genuine and pure and good, like Mikko. She would ruin him if she tried to turn this romantic, him and them at the same time. She cared about him too much to do that, so she never dwelled on the thought, never let it foster. She refused to witness what the world would do to someone as good as him.

“Don’t overthink it though,” Mel tossed into the mix of everything that was already swimming in Jo’s mind. “Don’t force it, obviously, but don’t resist it.”

Was Jo really resisting it if she tried, even though she wasn’t one hundred percent successful, to never even let a thought form about it? If she never even let herself for a single second daydream about what it might feel like to be loved by someone as good as him, did that even count as resisting it? Besides, Jo wasn’t even sure it was really on the table. For romance to be on the table, they both had to want it and Jo didn’t know if Mikko wanted that.

“You’re overthinking,” Mel sang softly. “Don’t sell yourself short, Jo, okay? For someone who loves to kick ass and take names, you won’t take the smallest risk here.”

Mel didn’t get it. Jo wasn’t risking herself. She was already so damaged, bent until she broke, utterly unlovable that it didn’t even matter. She would be risking Mikko. Mikko with his beautiful smile and his positivity and his determination to make Jo realize she was just as good as him when she knew she never would be. Mikko with his kind eyes and his warm hugs and his patience unmatched by anyone else Jo had ever met. She would be risking one of the best people she had ever met and Jo couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t let her life darken him with a permanent ink stain, coating everything bright and good with an inky black residue that would always weigh him down. There was a version of Jo, a version of her that she hated to admit ever existed, a version of her that believed people could be in love with someone and that their love would fix them, that wouldn’t have thought twice about it. She would’ve reached out and taken him anyway, hoping some of his goodness would transfer over to her without a care in the world for if she took everything he had from him. That version of Jo was thankfully dead, but the one that stood in her place only saw the harm she could cause him, would cause him if she exposed him to what loving her looked like. Jo wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t watch it happen, not to him, not if it was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

So, Jo drank her eggnog. She took photos and laughed and smiled and told Mikko he was her best friend, because he pretty much was at this point. No one else even got half of what he got from her. She wore that itchy sweater all night because Mikko thought it was the best thing ever. She wore it until she got to Mikko’s apartment after the party. His was closer to Gabe's and Jo didn’t feel like the effort of going to her place was worth it when Mikko had the best couch in the entire world. Jo kicked her shoes off and threw herself onto the couch the moment she set foot in Mikko’s familiar apartment. He laughed as Jo tucked herself into the cushions, letting herself be swallowed up in them.

Mikko vanished down the hallway for a moment, returning with one of his t-shirts and sweatpants for Jo to put on instead of her itchy, but iconic, sweater and jeans. Jo groaned as she took the t-shirt from him, knowing it meant she would need to get up to go to the bathroom to put them on, arm flopping down on the couch in disgust.

“Could be a little more grateful I’m providing a place to sleep and pajamas,” Mikko told her, not able to fake a scolding tone without laughing for more than a few words.

Jo glared at Mikko as she lifted her head from her spot on the cushions and slid unceremoniously from the couch to head to the bathroom to change. She changed fast, sleep calling her name from the couch she was forced to vacate, brushing her teeth faster than her dentist would approve of with her purple toothbrush Mikko had gotten for her specifically and left it next to his green one. The toothbrush had just shown up one morning after Jo crashed on the couch and Mikko left early for practice. It had been in the bathroom when she had woken up, a little sticky note with Mikko’s horrible handwriting on it.

Jojo’s toothbrush :)

They had never spoken about it, the sticky note being the only communication they exchanged. Jo had used it, her mind trying not to think about everything a toothbrush at his place was implying, and had put it in the holder next to Mikko’s, trying further not to think about how her toothbrush was next to his. Jo shook the thoughts from her mind again as she rolled the bottom of Mikko’s sweatpants up so she wouldn’t step on them on her way to the couch. Mikko had pulled her favorite blanket out of the closet for her and was waiting on the couch when she came down the hall.

“You’re so tiny,” Mikko practically giggled as he saw how big the sweatpants and t-shirt were on Jo. He’d seen it before, but he thought it was hilarious every time. “Little Jojo.”

Jo hated the nickname Jojo from everyone. Her mom didn’t even use it anymore because of the way Jo’s face scrunched up after she said it, disgust plain as day on her face. She let Mikko use it and it even made her smile sometimes, like just now, and like the toothbrush, Jo didn’t let herself think about what it all meant as she climbed onto the couch and snuggled up into Mikko’s broad, warm chest. Mikko was always the perfect amount of warm, enough that his warmth sunk into Jo’s bones, into the places that never seemed to warm up enough.

“You should sleep in your bed,” Jo mumbled as her eyes started to close.

“I’ll leave when you fall asleep,” Mikko assured her softly, letting his thumb rub her upper arm softly, crossing the edge of his too long t-shirt sleeve she was wearing on her skin and back gently.

“M’kay,” Jo sighed contentedly.

Jo’s eyes didn’t open again that evening. Her breathing slowed, naturally timing with Mikko’s deep breaths, his chest rising and falling against her back lulling her softly to sleep. She was almost asleep, just on the edge of it, when she heard Mikko’s voice whisper softly.

“I wish you could see how great you are, Jojo.”

It wasn’t meant for her to hear, so Jo didn’t reply. She drifted off to sleep, trying not to think about what that sentence meant. She also tried not to think about what the purple toothbrush next to his meant and why she slept better next to him than she ever did by herself. But that was a lot of things Jo couldn’t think about and instead, she fell asleep reminding herself exactly why she couldn’t dwell on all of those things.

-------

Christmas passed with Jo leaving Denver for the first time since she had arrived to spend it with her parents and brother in Florida. Mikko stayed in Denver, but his family came to him at least. She stayed through New Year’s, taking a week-long trip before her brother had to return to school in the Bahamas with her family. Being on a beach somewhere remote, the sun on her face, sand in her toes, made Jo miss Denver more somehow. A week on a beach in the Caribbean plus a week in Florida on a different beach and she was itching to get back to the snow, back to Avalanche games, back to the mile high air. A part of her brain whispered one more thing she wanted to get back to, back to Mikko. Jo already knew that was part of it, and she knew why that was. She loved him. There was no way around that anymore, no vault she could put it in that would even close due to the amount of ever growing love she had for him. Two weeks apart came with almost daily Facetimes and texts, the Christmas morning one standing out brightest of all. Mikko had sent Jo to Florida with his gift for her, covering in wrapping that would’ve made an eight-year-old proud, but horrified a precocious nine-year-old.

“Mikko, this is half tape,” Jo whined into her phone as she tried to break into the box.

“Not all of us can wrap like we’re a Pinterest mom, Jo,” Mikko scolded her softly, holding up the box she had wrapped for him as evidence.

“I’ll teach you.”

Jo laughed as she said it, and Mikko joined her, because they both knew Mikko couldn’t be taught how to wrap a present. He didn’t care enough about crisp lines and details like that. If it was wrapped, it was good for him. Jo had wrapped all of his gifts for everyone this year, except her own. Hers had been Mikko’s only present to wrap this year and he had done an absolutely horrible job. Jo finally managed to get through all of the tape and into the box. She tossed the tissue paper aside to reveal a candle. A candle, of all things.

“So, okay, remember how I said you have to come to Finland in the summer?” Mikko told her, offering up his explanation for the seemingly random gift in her hand. “Well, that candle smells like Finland. I did a bunch of research and got like, ten or whatever from Etsy, you know Etsy? Anyway, I smelled them all and that one does smell like Finland. I want you to know what it’s like before you get there and you really like candles and stuff.”

It was objectively a mediocre gift without the context. In context, it almost made Jo cry. The amount of thought behind it. The effort he went into to find the one that reminded him most of where he grew up. The fact that it was a physical representation of his wish to bring her back to the place he grew up. Jo almost cried looking at it. She popped the top off and smelled the candle deeply, ocean and forest mixing with some smells she couldn’t identify but hoped she would be able to soon. She smiled as she put the lid back on and set it aside.

“I love it, Mik,” Jo smiled at him now. “It’s one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”

MIkko smiled widely, dimple popping out as it often did, “There’s a card in the bottom, but you can read it later. I want to open my gift.”

Jo laughed as Mikko took one last glance at her pristine wrapping job before ripping it to shreds, busting open the box in an effort to find out what was inside as fast as possible. The fact that he had the present under his tree for three days and hadn’t opened it yet was a miracle within itself. And besides, some beautiful things were supposed to be temporary. Jo felt some days like maybe she was one of those temporarily beautiful things and like her beautiful moments had already passed, then she would see the way Mikko Rantanen looked at her for a second and think that maybe some beautiful things were supposed to be beautiful forever and maybe she was one of those things.

“Okay, I really hope you like it-”

“Jo, I love it,” Mikko cut her off.

Mikko pulled the sweatshirt out of the box and immediately yankedit over his head, smoothing out the image on the front. It was a cartoon caricature of his dog back in Finland, who he missed constantly during the season and talked about often. Jo ordered Mikko’s actual size instead of his preferred too large one. It fit tightly, but comfortably around his shoulders and arms, sleeves managing to be just long enough to cover his arms and reach his wrist. It fit perfectly and Mikko was staring fondly at the image on the front. Jo had picked the cutest picture she could find, one of his dog wearing one of Mikko’s helmets on his head.

“Fits perfect,” Mikko told her, bright blue eyes lifting from the sweatshirt to his phone to look at her again, his dimple showing itself again. “I love it, Jojo. Thank you.”

“Always, Mik,” Jo smiled softly at him

Maybe it was the holidays getting to her brain, the warmth and comfort of it all, but Jo was inches away from spilling words she could never take back, ones that might alter the beautiful boy on the other end of the phone in a way Jo didn’t want for him.

“What are you thinking about?”

Mikko knew something was up, something was pressing itself forward in her mind, demanding to be said. He could always tell, even from that first night on the rooftop he could always tell. He was always checking, looking for the smallest signs since Jo had never given anything larger than a single grain of sand compared to a beach of outputs. Mikko knew he must have missed thousands of signs by now, so it was important for him to acknowledge all the ones he saw. The worried glance to the right, following by a tap of her short nails on the table, and a quick sigh. She was overthinking.

“I just,” Jo let out a long breath and Mikko waited. He just waited, giving her time and space to choose her words. Jo wanted to tell him she loved him, but she couldn’t use those words, so, instead, Jo let him in for a moment. “Um, remember how you asked me that, um, first day you came over for lunch why I was crying?”

“I remember, Jo,” Mikko assured her softly, support coming over through his words that somehow seemed to take a physical form, something Jo could reach out and grab onto now to help stay on her metaphorical feet and continue talking.

“I was upset because I just felt,” Jo took another deep breath and looked at the face on the screen. Mikko’s eyes were steady and true, grounding her, calming her nerves. “I just felt empty. I felt like, I don’t know, it’s stupid, but I just feel sometimes like I’ve worked so hard that I don’t really know who I am anymore, like there really isn’t anything left of me after everything, after everyone took something, I guess.”

Mikko smiled softly, but it wasn’t pity in his eyes. It was love, raw and real and true. But Jo couldn’t see it. She wouldn’t let herself see it.

“Jo, how could there be nothing left when you’re my favorite person I’ve ever met?”

Jo felt the tears well up in her eyes because she knew they were true. Mikko genuinely believed them. Mikko was a lot of things, but he was a terrible liar. He really believed Jo was his favorite person he had ever met. But what was he seeing that could possibly make him feel like that?

Mikko saw all of the fractured parts of Jo hiding in the pieces of her personality, the faces she put on, all living behind the walls she built. Mikko saw all the parts of Jo and he could put the parts together in his mind and see just how beautiful she was. Broken things could still be beautiful. Things that used to be broken and were put back together one piece at a time could also still be beautiful. Things didn’t have to be exactly as they were originally made.

The word Mikko didn’t know to explain it was kintsugi, an old Japanese tradition of repairing broken pottery with gold. It wasn’t about trying to make the pieces look like it had never been broken. If you tried to do that, the lines where it had broken before would always look like faults, like unsightly scars. But if you joined it back together with gold, you weren’t hiding the past. You were making it beautiful, letting past fractures create an even more beautiful, unique piece when it was all finally assembled again. That’s what Mikko thought about Jo, that all of her pieces were beautiful and that the person she had been before she fractured herself was beautiful too. But Mikko thought that Jo, stitched back together with trust and love like gold, would be even more beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He could see her now and who she would be when she put herself back together, and he loved her all the same.

The conversation ended and Mikko didn’t bring it up again while Jo was in Florida and in the Bahamas with her family. He let his words sit with Jo and acted as a constant reminder of the care and love he showed her, confirming them every single day without ever talking about them again. Jo still didn’t know what Mikko saw in her, but he kept the daily FaceTime calls, never missing one while she was away.

When she got back to Denver, he picked her up from the airport, even though Jo had tried to tell him he didn’t have to. There was takeout in the car for her when she climbed in, the best gift a girl could ask for. Mikko had just laughed at her excitement and driven her home, taking his place on her couch, to go container and a fork in hand, and listened to Jo talk about her trip. Mikko was on that couch or she was on his practically every single day in January with the Avs on a stretch of home games for a good chunk of it and All Star break Mikko didn’t feel like traveling for. He wanted to spend it with Jo, so he did. It wasn’t a decision that required much thought for him, nor was it one he felt the need to defend to his teammates who kept pushing for him to go to a beach somewhere with them. He knew where he wanted to be for All Star break, the same place he wanted to be all of the time, with Jo.

Since the Christmas morning conversation, Mikko was getting more and more pieces of how Jo’s mind worked and what she thought of herself. They didn’t come in big reveals of insecurity like that one. The comments were small, something about missing being a kid without any worries, something about how Los Angeles felt suffocating, something about how she felt like Denver was too good to be true sometimes. After too many glasses of wine one night as January bled into February, Jo let one bigger thing slip out on Mikko’s couch, something that he couldn’t understand how she could possibly think when he was right there next to her, loving her louder than he meant to.

“I just don’t think I’m really all that lovable,” Jo admitted one night. “I think loving me is too hard for someone.”

It had almost broken Mikko’s heart, not because he loved her and she didn’t see him. It wasn’t about him. It hurt because someone he loved so deeply, who his love for kept growing every second he spent with her, someone he wanted to give all of his love to, didn’t even think they could be loved.

Mikko would keep showing up at her front door. He would keep loving her until one day she couldn’t deny that just because she might be difficult to love, that didn’t mean she wasn’t worth it.

-------

Let the record show, Josephine Evans vowed to do absolutely nothing other than eat the chocolates she bought herself and watch cringe-worthy Netflix romantic comedies for Valentine’s Day. It was a date she set up with herself and it only involved moving to her couch to attend the date, so she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have a problem making it and therefore wouldn’t let herself down. Until there was a knock on her door in a pattern that had become incredibly familiar to her since her third day in Denver. Jo groaned as she lifted herself from her couch, moving the chocolates to her coffee table and her blanket around her shoulders. He knew about her date with herself today. Why was he here?

“Mikko,” Jo groaned as she opened the door.

But she couldn’t be mad at the smiling face on the other side of the door. His dark beanie was pulled down over his ears, his coat buttoned up high on his neck to protect him from the chilly Denver air. His cheeks were flushed from his walk from the parking lot he had long received Jo’s second pass to; he was over so much, she finally surrendered and gave it to him. He didn’t have a key yet, but he was well on his way there. He sniffed a little from the cold as he offered her out a red envelope with her name scratched on it in his handwriting. She had never been mad at Mikko, not even for a minute, since they met. She wasn’t going to start now, even when he crashed her self-love date, with his sweet smile and a fucking valentine.

“If no one is going to be smart enough to ask you to be their valentine, then I will. Jojo Evans, will you be my valentine?”

Jo looked at the red envelope in his hands, then up to his smiling face, dimple prominent, eyes still a shade of blue Jo hadn’t figured out how to describe. Not an ocean, not the sky. Nothing was quite right. They were all too cold for how warm his eyes always were. Jo was brought back into the moment by Mikko scrunching his nose up at her and wiggling the envelope, waiting for her answer, even though he knew she couldn’t say no to him. Jo sighed and gave him her best displeased look, before snatching the envelope from his hand. Mikko smiled impossibly wider and pushed into Jo’s apartment, taking up residence on the chair by the couch after leaving his snowy boots by the door.

Jo ripped open the red envelope carelessly; she had never been good at opening envelopes. The card inside was cliche, sweet to the point of being cavity inducing. There was glitter and hearts and everything you would have put on a card in third grade when you made cards for your classmates, except Mikko didn’t hand make this one, which was probably for the better. He had definitely picked out the most obnoxious one he could find at the store though. It was his short note inside that had Jo clutching the card to her chest as Mikko scrolled through his phone in the living room.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Jojo-bean :) Hope you don’t mind me crashing. Wouldn’t want to spend today with anyone else

With shaky hands, Jo clipped the card to the front of her fridge, like her mom did with Valentine’s Day cards when Jo was little and still lived in Denver and the world was simple. Jo had been thinking a lot about her childhood, well, her early childhood anyway, when she lived in the suburbs of the city. She hadn’t even driven through her old neighborhood since she had been back. She was sort of afraid of it, not because her time there was bad, the opposite. Her time there was so good. It was pure, not yet ruined like Los Angeles where her family had moved after or New York City, where Jo had unfortunately learned what it was like to be an adult judged by millions of people for every micro-movement she made. That neighborhood in Denver was a safe place, housing memories of her childhood untouched by the harsh reality of twenty-four-year-old Jo’s life. She didn’t want to go and ruin it for herself. But she wanted to go. And maybe, maybe if she took the brightest human she knew with her, his light would cancel out her darkness and those memories would stay a safe haven.

“Hey, did you have anything planned?” Jo shouted out to Mikko as she made her way into her closet, reaching for a pair of jeans to throw on.

“Honestly, not really,” Mikko admitted. Jo could hear him talking around the chocolate he’d definitely stolen and was currently trying to hide from her in his mouth, but she let it go with a smile and a shake of her head. “Anything you want to do?”

“You ask a girl to be your valentine and you don’t even have a plan, Rantanen?” Jo chirped, well, as good as she could chirp, as she yanked on a comfy Avalanche sweatshirt Mikko had gotten for her.

Mikko laughed and played it off well, “I figured if I was crashing your plans, maybe I’d see what you wanted to do together instead?”

Jo grabbed her snow boots and a gray hat with a bobble on top she knew Mikko would bat at before they even made it out the door before heading back into the living room where he was waiting. There was chocolate on the corner of his mouth and there was definitely more than one extra empty space in the box, but Jo let it slide.

“Would you be down to take a little drive out to the suburbs near where I grew up?” Jo asked him as she sat down on the couch to start lacing up her boots. “I haven’t been since I got this place and I kind of want to go?”

She said it like a question, a bad habit she had picked up in an effort to sound more flexible to other people’s needs, diminishing her own at the same time. Mikko knew what she was doing as he lifted himself out of the chair to grab his boots, staying by the door so he didn’t track snow through Jo’s pristine apartment he’d never seen even a pillow out of place in until he messed it up himself. Mikko knew Jo was trying to hide the fact that she really wanted to go to her old neighborhood, so to her old neighborhood was where they were going to go.

Mikko drove since Jo really didn’t drive much anymore, at least, that’s why she told herself he drove. It wasn’t because she liked being able to look at him while he drove, large hands on the steering wheel, sunlight across his face, making his eyes look like a different color Jo still couldn’t describe for the life of her. That definitely wasn’t why Mikko usually drove. Mikko let Jo control the music. He’d play exclusively Finnish rap music if she didn’t and besides, music was her job. She had introduced him to so many incredible things he could probably never thank her enough, but really, he always let her control the music because she’d talk about it if he did. She’d walk him through the song, commenting on its construction, the originality, the way it fit together, her passion deep in each analysis. If you were ever lucky enough to hear a person you love talk about their deepest passion in life, you should let them talk as long as they want to. At least, that’s what Mikko thought and that’s why Jo always controlled the music in the car.

Jo directed them into the suburbs, streets becoming more and more familiar as they exited the city. A sense of home Jo hadn’t felt in a long time flooded her as Mikko took the turn into her old neighborhood, her memory flashing back to all the times her mom and dad had taken that turn with her in the backseat, all the times the school bus she rode as a little kid, all the times she turned that corner on her bicycle. She learned to ride it on this street. The feeling of home was distant, almost foreign in how far away it felt from her.

“Turn right at the next street, Mik.”

Mikko nodded, shifting to bopping his head to the music as he turned. Jo added the song to the playlist on his Spotify simply titled “Jo’s Music.” Any time she played a song in the car for him and he seemed to like it, she added it to a playlist for him, in case he wanted to go back and listen to it later. Jo didn’t know that Mikko listened to it every single day without fail. It was his everything playlist. When he didn’t have a specific type of music he was looking for, he put it on. It played when he first got up in the morning as he made himself breakfast and in the car on the way to the arena. It kept him company on flights back to Denver, flights back to Jo, after losing roadies. Every time he played it, he remembered these moments, moments with Jo and him alone, something he knew that when she left Denver eventually he wouldn’t get many of anymore. When each song played, wherever he was, he could hear her voice singing over it, hear the little comments she made, see her bad but still better than his dance moves in his passenger seat. He saw her when it played like she was right there next to him, living his life with him.

“Turn left at the next street, then it’s the third house on the right. It used to be yellow, not sure if it still is.”

Mikko flicked on his turn signal then turned as Jo instructed. It was easy to spot the house Jo grew up in as soon as they turned the corner. The house was still yellow. And somehow, the fact that the house was still yellow, a color Jo demanded her parents paint it when she was three with no concept that it would make the house look like a bumblebee when they put the black shutters on it, made tears come to her eyes. She wiped them on the back of her hands as Mikko rolled to a stop in front of the house, hoping he didn’t see. He did see, but he let her have a private moment in the passenger seat of his car, ready to step in if her tears shifted from ones sponsored by her childhood to something else, something negative she drove herself to instead.

“I remember making a snowman every year right there,” Jo told Mikko softly, a hand pointing to the spot on the grass near where the driveway met the walkway. “I wanted to pick the most visible spot to the street, I guess.”

Mikko nodded softly, then turned the engine off, surprising Jo. He grabbed his keys and slid them into his pocket before stepping out of the car without a word to Jo. He had an idea and he was going to see it through and he knew if he told Jo what it was, she would try to hold him down in the driver’s seat to stop him. Mikko was already knocking on the front door by the time Jo had opened the passenger door of his car and had started to shout to ask him what he was doing.

The front door opened before Jo could reach Mikko, despite her best efforts to run through the snow, in her large snow boots, to peel him off some poor person’s front porch before he created what Jo thought would be a disaster. Mikko put on his best smile as an elderly woman appeared in the doorway, a confused expression on her face as she surveyed the two twenty-somethings on her doorstep that were too well dressed to be trying to sell her something.

“Hi there,” Mikko was really trying to pour as much European charm into his voice as he could. “We’re sorry to bother you. I’m Mikko and that’s Jo behind me. This might be a kind of weird request, but Jo actually grew up in this house when she was little and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if we built a snowman on your front lawn? We won’t come inside or cause any trouble, I promise. We just want to build a snowman, or really, I want to build one with Jojo like she did when she was a kid.”

The woman looked at Mikko and Jo watched her absolutely melt under his dimpled smile and kind eyes. Her hands came up over her heart, one on top of the other and she gasped softly. She looked at Mikko like he was heaven sent, which Jo thought someday might not be too far off from the truth. She turned to Jo, the look of adoration on her face staying strong.

“Your boyfriend is the sweetest little, well, big, piece of peach pie I’ve ever seen,” she told Jo, the adoration on her face dripping from each word. “Of course, build away!”

The door closed before Jo could correct her, that Mikko wasn’t her boyfriend, just her boy friend, her best friend really. No one else was even coming close to vying for that job title anymore. Mikko turned and smiled at her and Jo sort of forgot why that distinction even mattered for a second, lost in the moment of one of the sweetest things anyone had done for her in awhile, or, at least since Mikko had show up at her door this morning with a valentine for her.

“Get our gloves from the car and we’ll get started, yeah?” Mikko asked her.

Jo turned on her heels to head to the car, but Mikko’s hand grabbing her wrist stopped her and pulled her back to him. He was chewing his bottom lip as his eyes shifted to look at the concrete beneath his feet. Jo used his hand on her wrist as an anchor and leaned into him, her other hand falling on his chest making him lift his eyes back to hers.

“I didn’t overstep, right?” he asked her, his voice much softer than for his first question. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, Mikko,” Jo said firmly, her voice solid and sure, strong and supportive. “You surprised me, but this whole day so far is one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me in a long time. You’re the best, Mik.”

Mikko pulled his lips tight over his teeth, nodded softly, then let his trademark smile come back over his face as he looked down at Jo. Mikko slowly let a part of him he kept tucked far away from the surface come up, letting it guide his hand to transition to holding hers instead of her wrist, fingers lacing together. Mikko tugged Jo closer by their conjoined hands, her boots shuffling against the floor to comply easily with his request.

Mikko Rantanen wasn’t harboring a secret love for Josephine Evans. It was clear as day to everyone, even Jo herself. It was in his shaky handwriting on the card from earlier. It was in the purple toothbrush at his place. It was in the car rides. It was in the hugs after games. It was in the texts that always started with, “Saw this and thought you’d like it.” It was in the knock on the front door of her childhood home. It was in the way he was looking at her right now. His love was right there, breaking on the surface, begging Jo to jump into the deep waters of his ever growing love for her. Mikko loved her more than she could understand, probably more than he could fully understand either, but he could feel it. She could feel it as his head slowly leaned down towards hers, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his warm breath fanning out across her face.

But Jo couldn’t jump in. The water might have been deep and warm and crystal clear, the kind she wanted to swim in forever. But Jo was still a hurricane. She would cause a storm over that water, over the lands that made up Mikko touching it, and wreak havoc on it all. Her winds would cause his love for her to destroy him, the water crashing to shore, washing away everything that made him her favorite person, water damage rotting the parts that didn’t wash away.

Jo couldn’t jump in, but she never wanted anything more as she could feel him, his lips inches from hers now. Jo was saved from the moment by the front door to the house she grew up in opening again. Mikko recoiled back before Jo could even open her eyes.

“Oh, sorry!” the elderly woman said. “Sorry, I interrupted you two sweethearts. Would you like some hot chocolate? I can get a batch going on the stove. Don’t want you two getting too cold out here.”

Mikko looked at Jo all the same, like that moment hadn’t just happened, but it was almost like it hadn’t. Because Jo never had time to pull away. She never stopped it, something outside of both of them did, so Mikko’s love remained untouched, calming waves still washing over her through his soft eyes and kind smile, through the very day he created for her and her alone. She loved him too. Standing on the porch of her childhood home, she loved him too. She loved him as deep as he loved her. That was so clear to her in the place where her heart felt lightest. He knew she loved him too. He knew today wasn’t the day she could share with him, the walls still too high. Mikko believed one day she could. Jo didn’t. And that made all the difference.

“Hot chocolate would be great,” Mikko told the woman softly, his eyes staying on Jo.

“Coming right up!” The woman spun to head toward her kitchen, the door almost completely shut before it opened again so she could ask, “Marshmallows?”

“Of course,” Jo smiled at her.

“Me too,” Mikko added, his voice as embedded with happiness as ever.

“You got it!”

With that, Jo and Mikko were back to being alone on the front porch. There wasn’t an awkwardness in the air though because Mikko didn’t feel turned down. He didn’t feel pushed aside. He simply felt like it wasn’t the right time and that the right time was just a little further down the road. Some days it seemed a little further down the road than others. Today it seemed close. It didn’t matter how far it was to Mikko though. He’d keep going anyway, even if the right time never came. If their lives changed and Jo found someone else, then he would too, but he’d never stop loving her. The love would just shift and Mikko would continue to keep on walking and being in Jo’s life. You can’t say you love someone, then stop if they can’t love you the same way you love them because then you don’t love them. You love the idea of them. Mikko loved Josephine, not his idea of her. So, he kept going. Today, keeping going meant walking to the car to grab their gloves to build a snowman on the front lawn of her childhood home.

Mikko tossed Jo’s gloves at her, hitting her square in the chest, as he rejoined her by the snowman spot. Jo glared at him, but it fell into a smile quickly when Mikko laughed at her glare. Jo rolled her eyes at his laugh as she slowly gathered up some snow in her hand, packing it down tightly as Mikko squatted down to start creating an initial ball for the base of the snowman. Jo took her newly formed snowball and shifted it solely into her right hand then, without thinking about any possible repercussions, she threw it as hard as she could at Mikko’s left shoulder. The look on Mikko’s face when he looked over his shoulder at Jo made her instantly laugh, but she covered her mouth to try and be a little sympathetic. Mikko’s jaw was slack, blue eyes wide with artificial horror. His head was shaking softly from left to right as he stared at Jo.

“Jojo,” Mikko drawled out slowly, taking his time to harp on each syllable like a frustrated mother with a petulant toddler, except Mikko was very, very bad at it.

“Mikko,” Jo drew out the last vowel in his name as long as she could, until a smile forced itself onto his face.

“Expect payback when you least expect it,” Mikko vowed. “Now, are you going to help me build us the best snowman ever or are you going to cause problems?”

“Who said I can’t do both?” Jo smiled slyly as she joined Mikko on the ground.

“Touché,” Mikko laughed, nodding softly as he did. “Touché, Jojo.”

The day Mikko had first used that nickname she had hated since she lived in this house was far in the past now. Jo realized as she started to roll a giant snowball around the front yard of her childhood home with her best friend who was too large for this activity in all reality that she didn’t hate it anymore because she couldn’t think about that nickname without hearing it in his voice. Mikko had attached himself to that nickname and Jo was pretty sure there wasn’t anything Mikko was capable of that could make her hate him. The bottom snowball got too big for Jo to roll around quickly, but Mikko easily took over and let Jo get started on the second one instead. Even though it was just snowballs, it felt like a representation of them. Jo’s life felt too big, too tough for her to ever push aside, or to ever brute force into being something beautiful in spite of how messy it really was. But she could do parts of it, the early stages where everything could easily fall apart, Jo was working on her life, part by part, a section at a time. If the snowball fell apart, she tried again. She didn’t fall into her couch and surrender with a bottle of wine anymore. She let out a deep breath and tried again because she knew she wasn’t alone. There was a tall blond boy, rolling a snowball around the yard, would would help her push her life into the shape she wanted it to be if she asked for his help. Jo didn’t even really have to ask. He could see clearly when she was struggling, when she couldn’t get to the end of something, when she couldn’t finally delete that toxic person’s phone number, when she couldn’t cut the final thread holding someone in her life who didn’t deserve to be there, when she was so close to getting out of a thought spiral. Mikko stood behind her, his warm presence and her least favorite nickname, encouraging her with a patience unmatched by anyone she had ever encountered. Any sane person would’ve given up by now. But people in love weren’t really all that sane.

“Hot chocolate! I even found some to go cups so you kids don’t have to worry about anything.”

Of course this angelic grandmother would have to-go coffee cups for hot chocolate. Of course she would. And of course she would go to all the trouble of finding a carrot for the snowman’s nose and bringing some coals from her grill out back out front for them to use as buttons and eyes. Of course some people on the planet were this good and pure and wonderful and absolutely deserving of love.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Jo sighed gratefully as she took the hot chocolate from her.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she hushed Jo with a careless wave of her hand. “I’m happy to help you two kids out. It’s like my grandkids are here, well, like when they were here when they were eight.”

She disappeared back into the house with another wave of her hand, telling the two of them to have fun. Jo took a sip of her hot chocolate at the same time Mikko did, both of them sighing contentedly at the the warm, sweet beverage. A shiver ran down Jo’s spine as the hot chocolate heated her up from the inside out. Jo scrunched her nose and smiled at Mikko over the top of her cup and of course he smiled back. It was never a question of if he would.

“I think you might need to be done with that boulder of a snowball you’re making,” Jo noted as she observed Mikko’s handiwork. “You’re going to make it so big that the second one is going to have to be so big we can’t lift it.”

“You might not be able to lift it, but you’re tiny so,” Mikko trailed off as a smirk lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Not all of us can be giants,” Jo rolled her eyes at him. “The worlds needs shorter people who don’t mind climbing cabinets and counters and shelves and other people to get what they want in life.”

“Pretty sure no one could ever stop you from getting what you want, Jo,” Mikko laughed. “At least, I wouldn’t want to be between you and whatever you wanted. Seems like a dangerous place to be.”

Except there was really only one thing Jo wanted and she couldn’t stop thinking about how badly she wanted it as Mikko set his hot chocolate aside to roll the base snowball into place and transitioned to taking over the second one so Jo could start on the snowman’s head. It was the only thing she could think about as Mikko helped her stack the two smaller snowballs on top of the first, as he accidentally shoved the carrot almost through the snowman’s head in excitement, as Jo had to stop him from directly handling the coals to prevent him from making a mess of his hands. He grabbed some nearby twigs for arms and Jo found the perfect one to bend to make a smile. The elderly woman came out and took their photo with their snowman who was obviously a little lumpy, but Jo thought it was the best snowman she had ever made.

Still, there was only one thing Jo could think as Mikko slid his hat back on and they climbed back in his car, declaring the day well spent.

The only thing Jo wanted was Mikko Rantanen and the only thing standing in the way was Jo herself. Jo was only standing in the way because she loved him. She would stand in the way for as long as it took, just to protect him from it all. Jo would stand in the middle of a hurricane for Mikko Rantanen, rooting herself into the ground to keep herself there, category five winds and all. She would stand there for the rest of her life if that’s what it took to make sure he was still this optimistic, still this kind, still her favorite person because she wouldn’t let anyone else ruin him. She wouldn’t.

------

With the Avalanche in a playoff push from late February to late March when they finally clinched a spot, Jo had seen Mikko on her couch less, but she hadn’t talked to him any less. He insisted she was his good luck charm and talked to her every single night, even if the team had gotten blown out the game before, he still claimed they would definitely lose if he didn’t talk to her. But Josephine Evans wasn’t all that lucky anymore. All the luck she had, her life’s allotment, had been used to get her to where she was now, in this apartment, with her childhood dream made a reality. Teenage Jo was lucky. Adult Jo? The opposite of lucky.

She had just gone to the grocery store. She was missing one ingredient to bake oatmeal cookies, Mikko’s favorite, and he had asked her early that morning if she could make them to celebrate clinching the playoffs. He didn’t really need a reason to get her to bake them. Jo baked for him whenever he wanted, the smallest token she could give him to show her appreciation for him, her love for him that she couldn’t admit. It had just been brown sugar, stupid brown sugar, and suddenly six months of a secret had been destroyed, photos of her in an Avalanche sweatshirt in a Denver supermarket were everywhere. The only lucky part was that unlike almost everything Jo owned with the Avalanche logo on it, it was a plain sweatshirt, absent of the number ninety-six or Rantanen on it. Mikko was still unknown. He was still good, still untouched by her real life, the one she was starting to wish she wouldn’t have to go back to.

Jo couldn’t even bake because her hands were shaking so badly. Today was supposed to be a good day, a great day, because her best friend had achieved something great and it was sunny out. Sunny days were supposed to be good days. Instead, there was a barrage of articles slamming Jo about how she had left her career to do absolutely nothing in Colorado, how she was a “has-been” now since no one has seen her in six months. Then the crazy theories started picking up. Rehab was a popular one Jo saw; there were lots of good facilities in the Denver area apparently, unknown to Jo. Her sweatshirt was baggy, so naturally Jo had to be pregnant, a constant rumor that showed itself every six months or so at the press’s whim. The stories were crazier from there, some nonsensical as always. People were saying they wished she would never come back, picking apart every single part of Jo they didn’t like, turning them into reasons she should just stay out of the public eye forever. Everything, from her hair to her smile to the way her voice sounded to the way she talked in interviews, that list quickly becoming too personal, people saying they were the reasons all her relationships had failed, all the reasons no one loved her. Normally, Jo could handle it, but six months without it had made her softly, more vulnerable, more normal, and everything hurt. Her head was spinning and her heart was pounding. Jo needed to stop reading. She threw her phone across the room and took a show to try and catch her breath for a moment. She turned the water up too hot, willing it to burn the negative feelings that were eating her alive to no avail. They were all internal.

When she got out of the shower, her phone had blown up with the Avalanche girlfriends, wives, and Jo, as it was now named, group chat. Everyone was talking about the bar for later for the celebration. In the chaos of the day and the heavy feeling in her mind and her chest, Jo had forgotten she had promised Mikko she would meet him at the bar with the rest of the team when they landed, the real celebration. The cookies Jo had failed to make were supposed to be used as sponges for the alcohol they would be consuming so Mikko could actually make it to practice in the morning.

Jo tried. Jo really, really tried. She got all dressed up, black bodysuit, black jeans, black heels, red lipstick, hoping that looking good would make her feel good enough to get out of her apartment. She got as far as her hand on the door knob, purse over her shoulder, before her eyes clouded up again and she realized she couldn’t do this. She tried so hard to put on a brave face, thinking she could get through today and deal with the overwhelming feeling that maybe they were all right and Jo had just given up, taken the heat and let it burn herself away for the sake of success, but the fire was too untamed, too strong, and it burned away everything instead, meaning losing herself was for nothing. The winds were too high, the storm was too strong, and Jo wasn’t making it to the bar.

Hey Mik. I know you might not have landed yet, but I’m not feeling too good, so I’m not going to be able to make it to the bar. Have a good time without me!

Jo sent the text without reading it over again and tossed her phone aside, knowing if she held onto it, she would just go looking for more things that would feed the hurricane already verging on a category five in her mind that Jo felt like was sucking all of the air out of the room. With still shaking hands, Jo fumbled with her heels, her skinny jeans, the bodysuit she had picked out because it made her feel confident, and returned to her baggy sweatpants and big t-shirt she had been wearing earlier. She went to light the candle on the nightstand, but realized it wasn’t the one she wanted. She pushed around half used candles in the drawer below, until her hands wrapped around one that had made the journey from Denver to Florida in a terribly wrapped box, and back, tucked safely in her suitcase, the one the boy she was in love with gave to her because it smelled like his home. Jo lit the candle after almost dropping the lighter twice then climbed into bed. Jo took deep breaths, trying to calm herself with what Nousiainen, Finland was supposed to smell like and how that made her think of the person who made her happiest, the boy who was from there who wanted to take her there and show her around the place that made him, him.

Jo wished she was there right now. She wished she was in a place she had never been before and it didn’t fail to dawn on her just how fucking pathetic that was. She hated fame, the thing she dreamed about every night, the thing she wished for when she blew out her birthday candles when she was seven, the thing that gave her everything around her right now, that she wished she was in a place she had never been before. Jo had hundreds of stamps in her passport, but she wished she was somewhere she had only seen in the pictures she painted in her mind from the stories Mikko told about it. She wished she was there because of the way Mikko smiled whenever he talked about it, a calm, warm smile, steady and sure. Home. It was his home, something Jo wasn’t even sure she really had anymore. She was from Denver. She lived in Denver now, technically still temporarily, but she didn’t have a home. She wanted to be home right now, but there was nowhere in her life to get that feeling, so she wanted to see if maybe the home of the person she loved was close enough.

Maybe that was part of the reason Jo felt empty all of the time because she never truly settled anywhere. There was no place on earth her soul was at rest that she was allowed to stay. She didn’t have a safe haven, just more empty apartments and hotel rooms in cities that tried to swallow her up. Maybe she left pieces of herself in all the places she had been, trying to make a home for herself. But that’s not how homes worked, so Jo had just failed and lost herself in her failure.

Today, Jo was standing in the middle of a spinning hurricane, getting battered by the winds and the things they threw even though she was trying to stand in the eye, trying to stay out of its way, it was hurting her anyway. And she felt so deeply alone all she could do was cry.

Except there was a knock on her front door and Jo felt the hurricane stop for a moment. The winds ceased, everything they picked up frozen in time and space as Jo walked to her front door. She opened it without even checking, even though the only person who normally knocked was at a bar, having a great night like he deserved.

“Okay, I didn’t know what kind of not feeling good you were, so I picked up wonton soup from your favorite Chinese place in case you were feeling sick, ice cream in case you were upset about someone getting engaged or having a baby again, and Sour Patch Kids in case- Josephine, what’s wrong?”

Josephine. In six, almost seven, months of knowing Mikko Rantanen, he had never called her Josephine. Not once.

Jo couldn’t answer. She just cried, a sob wracking her body. Mikko shifted forward, dropping the bags on the front table, and reached for her. He pulled her into his chest, one arm around her back, the other letting his hand cup the back of her head protectively.

“Josephine, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Jo’s hand fisted into his dark t-shirt, the material soft and forgiving under her hands. She was crying harder, sobs shaking her body over and over again. She felt Mikko press a gentle, lingering kiss to her hair.

“Jo, I’m right here. I’m right here,” he told her softly. “It’s me, Mikko. I’m right here, baby.”

Mikko was right there, but it was more than that. He was standing next to her in the hurricane. He wasn’t on the outside looking in. This was it. This was what the eye of the hurricane looked like. The storm blocked out all light, anything good, it was pure negativity, daring him to become part of it.Mikko didn’t know what to do. It was the most overwhelming feeling he had ever felt, feeling the storm licking at his back, trying to rip him away from her, but he had her. She was right here, in his arms, and nothing was taking her away. Mikko didn’t understand it all, but he didn’t have to. He just had to be there. He just had to stay.

Mikko scooped Jo into his chest, arms securing around her waist, just so he could get her to bed. He kicked his shoes off by the door, knowing Jo would still be mad at him if he tracked mud through her apartment even on her worst days. This was the worst day Mikko had ever seen, but she was still Jo, even on her worst days. He still loved her more today than yesterday and he’d love her more tomorrow than today.

He stripped off his jeans and tossed his jacket into the chair in her room, sliding into bed with her without even thinking about it. Jo wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her face into his chest and continued to cry. Mikko slowly worked his fingers through her hair, doing his best to keep it out of her face as she cried. He knew it would upset her if it stuck to her face, so he tried to fix that. He couldn’t fix Jo tonight, but he could fix her hair sticking to her face.

“I’m sorry,” Jo mumbled. “I’m ruining your day. Today is supposed to be a good day for you and I’m ruining it.”

“I want to celebrate with you, Jo,” Mikko told her softly. “It doesn’t have to be today. It’s okay if it’s not today. I care about you. If this is what you need today, this is what we’ll do. We’ll celebrate tomorrow, okay?”

Mikko kissed her forehead sweetly, lips lingering on her again. Jo shuffled in the bed next to him, adjusting so her arm was around his hips as she settled against her own pillow, tears finally slowing. Mikko reached a hand out gently, cupping her face and letting his thumb rub cross her skin to wipe away the tear stains.

“They found me here,” Jo admitted. “Someone posted a photo.”

“I’m sorry, Jojo. I know that’s not what you wanted,” Mikko spoke softly, careful not to upset her further.

“I knew it would happen at some point,” Jo shrugged, eyes clouding up again. “I guess I had just been able to hide here for so long I started to think maybe I would never be found? Maybe I could just stay here and I wouldn’t have to deal with it all, you know? I just, I feel like myself here, more than anywhere else, but now I feel like it’s ruined and I’m ruined with it.”

“Jo, you’re not ruined,” Mikko assured her, thumb gently passing over her lips he desperately wanted to kiss. “Things can be damaged, but still be beautiful. You’ve dealt with a lot of shit, Jo, and you’re still here and I’m so impressed by you always.”

Mikko cleared his throat softly, before daring to add, “For what it’s worth, you’re the most beautiful person I know. This version of you. This crying, messy version of you, this real version of you, is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I feel lucky to know you, Josephine Evans, so lucky.”

“Not sure you should, Mik,” Jo told him. “I can be a pretty rough friend.”

“I play hockey for a living,” Mikko cracked his first smile since walking through her front door. “I like it rough sometimes.”

Jo smacked his chest, hard, and he just laughed, chest shaking under her hand. Jo tried so hard not to laugh, but Mikko’s laugh was infectious, replicating in her, making her laugh too. His laugh was like sunshine breaking through the clouds hanging over Jo’s head. The storm was breaking, the winds slowing, and Jo felt like there was finally air in the room again. Jo took time away because she couldn’t stop working and she couldn’t stop working because she was trying to please a mass of people she would never meet who only wanted to say terrible things about her. Today, they won, but Jo was starting to see that she wasn’t perfect. She made mistakes, like the angry mob with pitchforks said she did, but a broken clock was still right twice a day, but was wrong for the other one-thousand four-hundred and thirty-eight minutes in a day.

“Hey, Mikko?”

“Yeah, Jo?” he replied softly.

“Is there ice cream melting on my front table right now?” she asked him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, noticeable in her voice.

“No,” Mikko replied smoothly. “It was very frozen when I got here because your favorite flavor was almost sold out and I had to get a frosty one from the back of the freezer, so I was just warming it up to the perfect temperature for us right now. I’ll go get two spoons because it’s definitely perfect right now.”

“If you say so, Rantanen. If you say so.”

------

From the moment Jo woke up with her legs tangled in Mikko’s, his shirt shed to the floor in the middle of the night, an arm secure around her waist, and his golden hair a mess on top of his head, Jo knew she didn’t want to wake up next to anyone else, maybe ever again. She also knew that if she wanted to, if she asked him to stay forever, he would. There was never a doubt in Jo’s mind that Mikko loved her, not since she unwrapped that candle, sitting on her nightstand now. That was never in question. There was no question really. Jo knew he loved her, but she also knew she loved him. Even if everyone on the outside was wrong, they would still rip him apart. Insults don’t have to be based in any truth to sink deep, to leave cuts and scars. Even if Jo somehow got a handle on herself and could block some of it out, she couldn’t protect him. He would get the same treatment, the beautiful boy with the beautiful soul who loved her, no questions asked. She couldn’t watch it happen to him. Even if she put herself all the way back together, watching him take beating after beating wasn’t an option. She loved him too much to let it happen.

Jo untangled herself from him as best as she could, sliding a pillow into his grasp as a replacement for her, smiling when he sleepily tugged it into his chest. Jo set out to do something she could do really well, make Mikko pancakes and oatmeal cookies. An absolutely unbalanced breakfast, but the first of things Jo could think to do to thank him for skipping out on his team’s celebration, his celebration, in favor of wiping her tears and braving it all just to hold her as she slept. The least she could do was make him breakfast today, and throw his clothes in the laundry so he could take home clean clothes, while also returning a shirt and sweatpants she stole from him, and send him home with a container of cookies.

Three dozen oatmeal cookies in the oven, laundry in the dryer, and pancakes on the stove later, Mikko made an appearance in her kitchen.

“You stole my clothes,” he mumbled, voice gravely with sleep.

“They’re in the wash. I left you a t-shirt and sweats I stole before,” Jo said, not even bothering to turn around.

Mikko slid up behind Jo suddenly, and arm wrapping tightly around her waist. From the feeling of him pressed against her, he’d found the sweatpants, but forgoed the shirt she left him. Jo couldn’t help but lean back into him. Mikko’s free hand found Jo’s braced against the counter’s edge next to the stove and tugged her wrist until she lifted her hand to lace their fingers together. His head leaned down, back arching away from hers so he could put his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re making me pancakes,” he muttered. “God, Jo. I- fuck, you’re killing me.”

“Did you want blueberry pancakes? I wasn’t sure, but I can add some,” Jo started rambling. “Or should I have made something healthier? Fuck, I’m just feeding you bad food, aren’t I? I’m sorry. I can make you eggs. Over easy right? I think I have some turkey bacon?”

“Josephine,” Mikko said softly, sleep slowly edging out of his voice. There was her full name again. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You know what I was going to say.”

Mikko’s hand squeezed hers softly as she felt his head leave her shoulder. She gasped when he shifted suddenly, hand leaving hers to let his arm around her spin her to face him, spatula ditched in the pan. He was right there, forehead finding hers. He was right there, steady and sure and so ready for her. Except she wasn’t ready for him. He could see it. He could see it in her eyes, the anxiousness, the uncertainty. She wasn’t ready, but she wished she was. Mikko couldn’t kiss the girl he loved, the one who slept in his arms last night, the one standing right in front of him. But he could see the walls falling. He was seeing more of her now, the parts of her that were real, the parts that he knew loved him too. But it wasn’t about Mikko seeing it. Jo needed to say it. She needed to be ready to love him too, and she wasn’t today. And that was okay.

“It’s okay,” Mikko told her. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Mikko lifted his forehead from hers, letting his lips drop to where his head had been, kissing Jo’s forehead gingerly. He gave her hips a little squeeze, a smile coming across his face. Just like that, like it never happened, like it wasn’t an open conversation just then about how Mikko Rantanen was in love with her and was ready to love her if she was ready too. Just like that, he was her best friend again, loving her still, just from the other side of the kitchen island, throwing the blueberries she grabbed out of the fridge at her because Mikko did in fact want blueberry pancakes. Jo added blueberries to the pancakes, and letting Mikko pelt her with a few, giggling the whole time,

The pancakes and the laundry and the oatmeal cookies were just the start. Jo spent the entire playoff run doing her best to do anything she could for Mikko, to try and say thank you. Thank you for that night. Thank you for the previous eight months by the time the playoffs came to end for the Avalanche. Thank you for still being just as patient with her as he’d been the first night on the rooftop. Thank you for seeing something real and worthwhile in Jo, even when she couldn’t.

Jo watched the Avalanche’s season end on her television since it didn’t end in Denver. All Mikko did after the loss was text Jo and tell her they were coming back that same night and the time they would land. It was an ungodly time, but Jo didn’t hesitant. She slid on leggings, a big sweatshirt, and some sneakers when the time came. The streets of Denver were quiet as Jo drove to the airport. She waited in her car, knowing Mikko wouldn’t want her to make a big fuss. She watched him come across the tarmac, spotting her car. He tossed his suitcase in the back, then climbed in the front seat without a word.

Jo put on some soft music, something new she’d found during the first series when Mikko was away. He was quiet as Jo drove back to her apartment, just letting his eyes close even though Jo knew he wasn't asleep, just listening to the music. It wasn’t until they were close to Jo’s apartment Mikko finally spoke.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

Mikko’s voice was soft in the worst way, hesitancy, insecurity, and vulnerability showing. He needed her tonight, desperately. He wasn’t asking to stay on her couch. He was asking to stay with her, to fall asleep holding her, in her bed, with her. He’d only done it once before, that night when clinched the playoffs, when Jo needed him. Mikko didn’t ask much of Jo usually, just that she showed up. He was asking for a lot tonight and he felt so guilty for it.

“Of course, Mik. Anything you need.”

“I need you to come to Finland.”

The words slipped out before Mikko could stop them. He didn’t mean to say them. He felt that way, like he wanted to pack Jo up in his suitcase and take her with him, but he wasn’t supposed to say it.

“For a visit in the summer,” Mikko added too late for it not to clearly be an afterthought.

Jo was a better person than everyone often gave her credit for. She took a deep breath and let Mikko’s last minute addition be the full statement to her, even though she knew what he meant. He didn’t want her to visit. He wanted her to come and spend the summer with him. He wanted her to come back to Denver with him the following September and stay. He wanted her forever. That’s what Mikko wanted. That’s what he meant. But Jo, for his sake and hers because that couldn’t be talked about on a night Mikko was torn up about the loss, pressed her foot on the gas, put her eyes back on the road, and pretended like it wasn’t.

“Well, my little brother’s graduation is in two weeks,” Jo told him, choosing her words carefully. “Then we’re all going to Hawaii to celebrate that. Surprisingly, I do have other friends, a couple bachelorette parties. And you’ve got that trip with your friends mid-June, right?”

Mikko nodded softly, blue eyes fixed on the road ahead as Jo drove.

“How about I come for Midsummer?” Jo asked him. “You’ve talked about how great it is. That’s the end of June, yeah? Seems like the perfect time. I don’t really have any firm plans after that honestly, so maybe I’ll just come and we can figure out when I’ll leave later? Leave it open ended?”

“I’d really like that,” Mikko breathed out.

It would be seven weeks before he got to see her again after he left. He’d seen her for the next few days as he packed up his life, cleaned out his apartment here, but after that, he wouldn’t see her for seven more weeks. But the thought of having her in Finland, of getting to show her his home like she had shown him hers on Valentine’s Day, of getting to show her off to people Mikko knew wouldn’t give a shit that she was Josephine Evans, and to do it all without an expiration date. Just him and her, for months if he wanted and god, did Mikko want that. But first, he would get to hold her as he fell asleep tonight.

Jo didn’t even say anything that night when he cried a little into her hair. She just pressed a kiss to his shoulder and snuggled in tighter, which was exactly what Mikko needed. He talked a lot sometimes, arguably too much when he was excited, but when he was hurting, he just wanted silence and assurance that everything would be okay. Nothing assured him more that everything would eventually work out than Jo because he knew things with her would eventually work out like they were supposed to. The chips would fall, a picture would form, the world would keep spinning, and Mikko would keep on loving Jo as best as he could, waiting for her to realize there wasn’t anything that would make him stop.

------

Jo looked around her physically unchanged apartment, but it still felt different. Mikko hadn’t even been gone twenty-four hours yet and her apartment already felt different. He had been absent from it for longer than that since she had known him, several times over on road trips, but it was different knowing he wouldn’t be back in it until September, if Jo even decided to keep this place. Jo was kidding herself if she thought she would get rid of it though and didn’t even pretend she would for a second. Even when Jo would have to go back to Los Angeles, go back to a version of her life she didn’t like herself in as much, she still wanted to have Denver be an option for her whenever she wanted. When she wanted might happen to frequently line up with home games played by a certain blond Finnish boy, and he would be grateful if that was the choice she made, which meant she was going to make it as often as possible.

Krista, who had stayed almost completely silent since Jo arrived in Denver in September, reached out under the guise of just checking in on Jo, but really making sure that she was still planning on coming back and getting started on her next album by the end of the summer. If she was, they would need to start looking at possible arena dates for two summers from now because that’s how far that sort of thing gets booked. Jo just answered curtly, saying that was still her plan, and tossing her phone aside. The thought of going back to it all was overwhelming and the one person who made it all go away with a smile and a laugh was nine hours ahead of her where it was three in the morning and she wasn’t going to wake him up for this.

Jo opened the top drawer of her nightstand all the way, finding the plastic bag tucked safely in the back. She had to put them in plastic because the Valentine’s Day card kept getting glitter in everything else in the drawer. Jo had saved the cards Mikko had gotten her and every Post-It note he left. There was the Post-It note that had been on the now well worn jersey hung up in her closest. There was simple, yet confusing at the time but incredibly unconfusing now, one identifying a purple toothbrush that lived next to his green one as hers. There was the glitter bomb of a Valentine’s Day card where he asked her to be his valentine in the most sickeningly sweet way possible. If Jo ever doubted if she had Mikko Rantanen’s heart, one look at the collection of items covered in his terrible handwriting in front of her would confirm she’d had it for longer than she realized.

There was a card from when he bought her flowers for his birthday to say thank you for baking him a cake. Of course Mikko would buy her flowers on his birthday. Of course he would.

Just wanted to say thanks for the cake. Might have been the best birthday cake I’ve ever had, but don’t tell my mom yours is better :) - Mikko

Jo smiled at the memory of the beautiful flowers that Mel had definitely picked out because there was now way Mikko knew any flowers other than roses and the bouquet hadn’t been roses. She found what she was looking for, the card from Christmas. The card itself was simple, very few words or images printed on it by the company who made it, mostly just a little snowman on the front corner and Merry Christmas inside. It was Mikko’s writing on the card that Jo was looking for.

Hi Jojo,

Merry Christmas! I hope you like the candle and that you don’t think it’s a silly gift or something. I don’t think you will, but if you do, don’t tell me, okay? I spent way too much time on it :)

I hope your Christmas is good and that you have a really good New Year’s too. If I can make a suggestion, I think I know what your New Year’s resolution should be this year. (I googled that word to spell it right for you, hope you’re proud.) Anyway, I think your resolution should be to try and realize how amazing you are. I know I haven’t known you that long, but you’re kind of the best Jo, not even kind of. You are the best, Jo. I know that’s a hard resolution probably, but lucky for you, my New Year’s resolution is to help you see it too. :) Because you’re one of my favorite people and I really hope one day, this upcoming year, you can understand why.

Merry Christmas, Jojo-bean. Happy to be your friend always. - Mikko

The words on the card were a little blurred because Jo was crying now. She had waited her entire life, dreamed internally in her mind and openly in the songs she put out, to find someone like him, someone who loved her without any reservations. Mikko Rantanen loved her selflessly, not looking for anything for himself in his love for her. His love was pure and real. Jo could feel it when he was around, in the way he hugged her, in the way he spoke to her, in the constant effort he put in to spend as much time with her as he could, in the message on the card in her hands. His love was focused on her.

Jo took a deep breath and slid the cards and notes back into the bag, a calm coming over her that only came from Mikko. Jo wanted to accept every ounce of love he offered her, let it fill her forever, but in opening herself up to allow that, her toxicity would flow into him. The toxicity Jo picked up from her life would flow back into him and ruin him and Jo didn’t want that to happen, but Jo was starting to wonder how long she could really keep him at bay. How long could she really keep him out? In trying to help her, he was breaking down walls she’d build to protect herself, but also protect people like him from her. She would keep trying to make sure he stayed at arm’s length, make sure he stayed separate from her, because that was the best way she could love him, by preventing him opening himself up to a world of negative feelings and experience he didn’t fully understand. Jo had seven weeks to try and figure out how to keep him at a distance when he was next to her without any other commitments or distractions, when she was so far from her life that she could barely feel it anymore, when it would feel like none of the reasons she kept him out were real.

Seven weeks did nothing for Jo. Not a damn thing. She got on a plane, knowing she was torturing herself by doing it, giving herself a taste of what she could never have, but she got on the damn plane anyway. She got on the plane anyway because she loved Mikko Rantanen anyway, even though she shouldn’t. She got on the plane anyway because she didn’t know how to do anything else.

------

“Did you sleep on the plane?” was the first thing out of Mikko’s mouth, spoken too loudly in Jo’s ear as his arms were already around her at the airport.

Mikko had picked Jo up, her legs wrapping around his muscular waist, before the two had even spoken. His arms were around her, face tucking in her neck. She smelled like the fancy conditioner she used, lavender, honey, and something Mikko couldn’t figure out, and like Jo. He never wanted to kiss her more than he did when her face appeared from the airport tunnel. Seven and a half weeks without her was longer than Mikko ever wanted to go. She wasn’t his, but with her arms about his neck, legs around his waist, the smell of her overwhelming him, in one of his Avalanche sweatshirts with his name on the back, she felt like his to him. Jo felt like she was his too, so much like it was all real for a moment, like with her arms around him like this, he was hers. But he wasn’t hers. The closest Jo could get was a quick kiss to his cheek that travelled a little too far down, hitting more at the corner of his mouth than his cheek. Mikko sucked in a hard breath when she did, wishing more than anything he could tell her she missed and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. Instead, he smiled and helped set her back down on the ground with steady hands like his heart wasn’t screaming in his chest, like he wasn’t undeniably in love with her.

“Uh, yeah, I slept pretty good actually,” Jo told him after clearing her throat, both of them trying to ignore their flushed cheeks, their own and the other person’s.

“Want to drop off your stuff then get brunch?” he asked her. “There’s a place with good mimosas near where I live.”

“Now you’re speaking my language, Rantanen,” Jo laughed, putting one of her bags in his outstretched hand, knowing better than trying to take care of everything herself.

“Actually, I think you’re going to have to learn a little of my language, Evans,” he chirped back, a smirk crossing his face. “Come on, car’s this way.”

They talked on the drive to Mikko’s apartment, Jo handling the background music as always. In six, verging on seven weeks apart, Jo had filled some of her spare time not spent with Mikko listening to even more music than she normally did, an arguably absurd amount. Jo had also started writing music again, for the first time since her move to Denver, something she hadn’t admitted to anyone yet. Anyone included the tall, tanned, Finnish boy in the driver’s seat who knew enough about her to fill a series of novels. She couldn’t tell him because everything was about him. All the songs were about him now and Jo still didn’t know what shade of blue his eyes were.

They dropped Jo’s stuff off, her bags going in his spare room when Mikko really wanted them in his even though he knew that thought shouldn’t cross his mind. He fussed with his phone while Jo got changed from the plane, a message from Burky in the team group chat catching his eye.

Mik, is your not girlfriend here yet? Bring her to Sweden. It’s nicer here.

Mikko barely stifled an audible groan at Andre’s text. His teammates knew. Really, everyone knew he was absolutely head over heels, write home to your mom, risk it all, in love with Jo. He couldn’t hide it if he tried. He wasn’t even hiding it from Jo anymore. He was actively acting upon his love for her, asking her to come home to meet his family, see where he grew up, meet his home friends. There was a cabin booked for Midsummer in a few days with friends, a room planned for him and Jo to share, which she said she didn’t mind and Mikko was hoping to whatever higher power that existed she’d fall asleep in his arms one night they were there. That was his favorite thing in the world, the few times Jo had fallen asleep against his chest on his couch. She was right there, safe in his arms. No one could touch her. No one could hurt her. He could just love her as hard as he wanted when she was right next to him, with no one around to say a damn thing about it. Still, Mikko took a deep breath and pulled himself back to center.

Jo was closer now, closer than she’d ever been before. She felt like she was right there and all Mikko would have to do is reach out and take her hand to pull her in. But Mikko knew better. He knew if he let himself want everything that had just come through his mind, if he openly wanted that, he’d pull her in and if he pulled her, he’d lose her. There was no world in which Mikko Rantanen could do a damn thing other than wait about loving Josephine Evans. If he did anything at this point, with her so close he could practically feel the warmth of her hand near his, he would lose her. He could wait. If she was this close for years, he would wait. He would rather bunch his hands into fist so hard his nails drew blood holding himself back and then lose her.

Still, Mikko let himself act on his love, showing it to her as plainly as he could, showing her he was right here, his love was right here, ready for her whenever she decided to take it.

“Ready to go?”

Shorts, a t-shirt, a baseball cap, and sandals after an over ten hour flight and she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Mikko led her out of his apartment, opening every door on the way, and pointed across the street when they got onto the sidewalk. Jo looked both ways and went to step into the street, but Mikko caught her hand with his.

“You’re in a foreign country. You shouldn’t cross the street without holding someone’s hand. Something bad could happen,” Mikko told her, his sweetest, most innocent smile on his face.

“By that logic, I should be holding your hand whenever you cross the street in Denver,” Jo retorted, making Mikko smile even bigger.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jo rolled her eyes, but a smile pulled across her face anyway and she laced her fingers through his. His hand dwarfs hers, warm and strong, practically pulling her across the street to keep up with his long strides. They talked like nothing had changed, like this was something they had done a thousand times already. Jo wasn’t worried about who saw. There were no cameras, no people with cell phones waiting to see. She could just hold the hand of the boy she was in love with and walk to a restaurant for brunch. That’s when Jo realized Finland was her favorite and least favorite place she had ever been. It was her favorite because she could love Mikko here, openly. There was no one to hurt him here, no one to hurt him through her. She could just love him as loudly as she wanted. They could be together here, love each other until they were old and gray and they didn’t understand how technology worked anymore and could barely hear anything, loving each other the entire time. It was her least favorite place because Jo couldn’t stay, but the thought of that, of a life with him, was the most heartbreaking thought she had ever had, because it was nothing more than a dream that couldn’t become reality, a thought that could never manifest into an action. It would move from her head, to chest, and fester there, rotting her from the inside out, eating her alive.

Mikko slid down into the seat opposite Jo when they reached the restaurant, the drink menu already confiscated by Jo before he could even get settled in his seat. Mikko crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk rising on his face as he watched Jo realize she had made a critical mistake. The menu wasn’t in English and she couldn’t read a word of Finnish.

“Got a problem there, Jo?” Mikko laughed as he asked her, making her blush. “If you ask nicely, I might be able to help you out.”

“Mikko,” Jo said through gritted teeth, “can you please translate the menu for me?”

“Sure,” Mikko laughed louder, sporting his best shit-eating grin. “Come on over.”

Jo groaned before tossing the menu carelessly over to him, making him laugh harder. She grabbed the seat of her chair and shuffled herself a quarter of the way around the table, sitting near enough to read the menu together now. Mikko had other plans. He reached one hand out and gripped the seat of her chair and tugged, hard, until the seat of her chair bumped against his. His arm shifted to rest across the back of her chair, like he hadn’t just pulled her closer to him shamelessly, and he propped the menu up between them against his water glass.

“Well then,” Jo mumbled.

Mikko couldn’t help himself. A grumpy Jo was one of the cutest versions of Jo for him because she was the least threatening person he had ever met. She called Mikko once thirty minutes before midnight because there was a big spider in the corner of her room and she couldn’t sleep if it was still there, but she couldn’t go anywhere near it. Mikko drove twenty minutes across town at midnight to kill a spider for her. He would’ve driven an hour, probably more than that if he was really being honest with himself. Mikko dropped a kiss to Jo’s temple, the fondness of that memory and the cuteness of her grumpiness overtaking his better judgment for a moment. Jo didn’t freeze like he thought she would. Jo just leaned closer into him, accepting the contact, and Mikko swore his heart was about to beat out of his chest when she put a hand on his thigh to lean closer toward the menu.

“Um, okay,” Mikko stuttered, trying to center himself. “The top one is just a regular mimosa.”

“Thank you, oh great Finnish speaker,” Jo teased him, giving his leg a squeeze that had Mikko’s mind spinning hard enough he was pretty sure he couldn’t speak Finnish or English anymore. “I got that from the picture next to it. Got any other helpful insights?”

Mikko let a laugh calm himself before walking Jo through the different flavors of mimosas she could try. She settled on the pineapple one before exchanging the drink menu for the food menu so he could walk her through that. It was the littlest thing, but for just one moment, Jo actually needed Mikko in a way she could admit. If something as small as translating a menu could make Mikko feel so warm inside, then what would her being in love with him make him feel like? Mikko didn’t have any way to wrap his mind around how that would make him feel. All he knew was when Jo slid back to the other side of the table, he missed her, even though there was only four feet of distance between them and she hadn’t actually left.

Mikko’s eyes shifted when he heard laughter down the street. Jo’s eyes followed his. It was a little girl, already wearing a flower crown definitely meant for Midsummer at the end of the week.

“Midsummer thing?” Jo asked him. “Sorry, I’m a novice.”

“Well, I’ll make you an expert by the end of the week,” Mikko promised. “Maybe, it’ll even be your favorite holiday, if you can let yourself be open to thinking there are holidays better than Christmas out there.”

“That’s a tall order there, Mik,” Jo laughed before taking a sip of her water. “Maybe aim a little lower?”

“Don’t tell me to dream smaller,” Mikko countered, a lazy but sure smile on his face. “I’m dreaming big while you’re here. I dream big when you’re involved.”

------

Mikko had told Jo that Midsummer would become her favorite holiday if she let it be. Less than an hour into the sunny night, something Jo definitely wasn’t used to, she was pretty sure Mikko was right. It seemed like everyone in Nousiainen was here. Guaranteed, it wasn’t exactly a large place, nothing in Finland was, but Jo hadn’t ever been to anything like this before. In her lacy, loose white dress, a cup of white wine in her hand because drinking red while wearing white was just asked for trouble, with Mikko’s arm around her waist, she had never felt more content before. Jo watched the youngest kids from the village run around, carefree and happy. She watched as Mikko’s parents interacted with everyone else from the village, beaming as they constantly gestured to where Mikko and Jo were standing among his friends. Like everyone else, they thought the two were just private. The lines of friendship and romance had blurred on this trip under supportive gazes from Mikko’s family and friends and under stolen touches Mikko would’ve normally kept to himself. But he was home. He was in the place where all his purest memories rested, during a holiday his favorite memories from his childhood came from, with the girl he was in so incredibly in love with. He couldn’t help but secure an arm around her waist and pull her into him. Even if it would hurt when he couldn’t do it back in Denver later. She was comfortable and Mikko would always take up whatever space Jo allowed him to in her happy moments, trying to show her in them what it could be like if this could happen all the time.

“Are you having a good time?” Mikko whispered softly in her ear, bending down low to do so.

“I’m having the best time, Mik,” she told him, honesty obvious in her voice. “Thank you again for inviting me for this. It makes me feel really special that you wanted me here.”

Mikko wanted to make Jo feel how special she was to him all of the time, not just here in Finland. He wanted her to feel special all of the time. She deserved everything good the world had to offer. Jo was the purest soul Mikko knew. She had just been handled careless by too many people for so long. They created cracks in her, tried to steal pieces of her goodness for themselves, and covered her in dark stains she tried so hard to get out, but couldn’t, so she just excepted them as who she was now. They weren’t her. They were still stains and Mikko was washing them away day by day, moment by moment, with the crashing waves of his love for her. Jo had built up walls to protect herself, put on thick, clunky armor to try and block the good parts of her that were left. Jo didn’t seem to understand that all of the good parts of her were still left. They just needed to be cleaned and gently put back together so they could shine again and that when they were back together, the world would be a better place if she took down her walls and retired her armor so the world could see her shine.

Jo was shining right now, in Finland, in the prettiest white dress Mikko had ever seen, during his favorite holiday of the year. There was no pressure here. No one cared who she was beyond that she made Mikko, their local boy, happy. That was the only metric they measured her on and she made him happier than anyone else. Mikko never wanted her to leave if she was going to shine this bright here, if she was going to be this free and happy here. This is how Jo deserved to feel all of that time.

“Jo!” one of Mikko’s sisters called out from the right of them.

She walked past without stopping, slowing just long enough to push a flower crown into Jo’s free hand and shout, “Midsummer!” then continue on.

Mikko laughed as Jo looked softly at the delicately weaved flowers and ribbons in her hands. Mikko sat his drink down on a nearby table so he could take the flower crown from Jo’s small hands.

“Let me do it,” he told her softly.

She nodded as Mikko gently smoothed her hair out with one hand first, before gently setting the delicate weaving of flowers and ribbon on the crown on Jo’s head, situating the ribbons to fall with the soft, dark curls of her hair down her back. Jo put a hand on the flower gingerly as she turned to face him. Mikko’s hands fell to her hips naturally as he looked at her, the prettiest girl he’d ever seen in his entire life, the flush in her cheeks from the wine, the flowers in her hair, a real smile on her lips, her eyes bright in the evening sun, and he had never been more in love with her. He didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t know any words in English or in Finnish or in the little bits of Russian he’d picked up from Zadorvo or Swedish he learned from Gabe that could express it. The only thing he knew how to do to make sure she felt his love was kiss her, but he wasn’t doing it for the first time under the eyes of everyone he grew up with. Instead, Mikko let his eyes close slowly as he dropped a lingering kiss on her forehead, just below where the flowers started and wished they weren’t surrounded by everyone he knew, wished it was just her and him somewhere else so he could make sure she knew how much he loved her.

Jo’s small arms wrapped around his waist after he pulled his lips back from her skin. She pressed her face into his chest and hugged him tight. Mikko’s strong arms wrapped around her back, securing her to him. Mikko couldn’t pour the same amount of love into a hug. Hugs were too casual, but he was trying. He was trying so hard that he was gripping Jo a little too hard, like she would float away if he let go. But this was the first time Mikko was sure she wouldn’t. If he let go right now, he was sure she’d stay.

The bright evening passed by quickly, filled with laughter and games and food and the bonfire customary to Midsummer’s Eve, Jo’s hand in Mikko, Jo on his lap, his arm around her waist, always touching her, always checking in, always there. Jo wanted him and it was radiating out of her and into Mikko through every touch, every gaze, every moment he spent with her today. It occurred to him at some point during the evening, a terrible thing to think really, that Jo might look something like she did now on her wedding day and Mikko desperately wanted to be the guy at the end of the isle waiting for her. He’d wait for her for his whole life. He’d wait for her even if she never walked down the aisle to him and he would consider it a life well spent because he spent it loving the single most incredible woman he had ever met.

Normally, most other years, Mikko would have rented a cabin with friends for the evening, woken up too early in the morning considering how late he was up celebrating with all of Nousiainen, but he hadn’t done that this year. When Jo said she’d come, Mikko had still gotten a cottage on the lake, but tonight he had wanted it to just be him and Jo. His friends would show up tomorrow late in the day to join them then. He wanted a night just with Jo with no one around to ask questions and he was so grateful for that decision as he pulled up to the cottage. He’d stopped drinking hours ago so he could drive and so Jo could keep drinking if she wanted to do so.

“It’s so pretty, Mik,” Jo commented as she climbed out of the car, eyes trained on the water that was still lowly lit by the setting sun, something Jo still couldn’t believe with how late it was in the day.

“I thought you’d like it,” he told her as he grabbed his bag and hers from the backseat. “Want me to throw these inside and I can meet you out on the dock?”

Mikko didn’t have to ask Jo twice. She was already heading out onto the water before he had even finished his question. Her excitement was child-like, pure and good, something Mikko rarely got to see from her. He felt like he was truly seeing Jo, the one he had only gotten glimpses of before now, the girl he loved more than anything. He carelessly tossed the bags down inside the front door and came as close to running to meet Jo on the dock as he could. She was sitting on the edge when he joined her, her shoes left on the grass at the end of the dock, Mikko’s now next to hers, kicked off haplessly on his way to join her. Mikko dropped down on the edge of the dock next to her, feet dangling into the cool evening water unlike Jo’s which couldn’t reach.

“Thoughts on Midsummer so far?”

Mikko watched Jo carefully, flower crown still on her head, as a warm smile came naturally across her face. She didn’t have to say anything for Mikko to know she loved it.

“It’s no Christmas,” she joked, making him laugh, “but it’s pretty spectacular. Thanks again for inviting me to do all this with you.”

“Anything for you, Jo.”

Mikko meant it and Jo knew he meant it. It wasn’t something he said as a joke. It was real and raw, sincerity infused into the words.

“Hey, Mikko?”

Jo’s voice was timid, unsure of both of the words even though they were two she said with incredible frequency. It wasn’t those words she was unsure of. It was the ones that would follow that had her voice shaking, a symptom of her heart quaking in her chest.

“Yeah, Jojo?” Mikko replied, keeping his voice quiet as not to overwhelm hers.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could get out.

“What are you sorry about, Jo?”

Mikko lifted his feet from the water and spun to face her, folding his legs in so he could slide closer to her. She froze when he reached a hand out and placed it on her forearm. Her eyes were trained on his hand on her skin, warm and steady and strong. Mikko didn’t move it, just pressed her again verbally, gently, afraid she would break under the slightest pressure at this moment.

“What are you sorry about, Jojo?”

Jo took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, before she tried to explain, “I’m sorry that I can’t love you, Mik. I mean, I do. I really do, but I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you because if I let that happen, it’s going to ruin you, I’m going to ruin you. Everything in my life is going to come into yours and corrupt everything good about you. I can’t let that happen, not to you. You’re too good. You’re the best person I know, Mikko, and I can’t open a gateway the entire world will try to use to rip you apart. I can’t watch it happen and that’s how I know I love you. I never thought about it before. I never thought about what my life would do to someone else. I just jumped in and let the chips fall where they wanted. Really, I let grenades go off in other people’s lives and walked out right before they could hurt me. I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever loved just by trying to love them, Mikko. I can’t do that to you. Hurting you, knowing I hurt you, would kill me.”

Mikko really only heard three words out of the entire thing. He heard Josephine Evans, the girl he loved more than anything, say she loved him. Mikko wasn’t staring at walls anymore. The only thing between him and her was Jo herself and if there was anything Mikko had learned in the almost year he’d known Jo, it was how to reach her through the noise in her own head. He could reach out and take her, but he wouldn’t do it. He was just going to stand there with open arms and wait, because if he pulled her in, she'd just pull away later. He was going to sit here on this dock and show her his open arms with as many words as it took for her to see him standing right in front of her, already having braved the hurricane she was scared of to get this close to her. The hurricane wasn’t her life. It was Jo’s fear of what her life would do to the people she loved. Mikko had already decided Jo was worth whatever storm could come and no one could change his mind, not even Jo.

“Jo, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so smart who chooses to be so blind to everything before,” Mikko told her, his voice breaking as he let out a tight breath. His hand rubbed her forearm softly, trying to ground himself in the moment and not the one he hoped would follow. “Jo, stop being so scared of what everyone else has been like and look at me. See me, Jo. Stop seeing your exs and shitty people who never really loved you in the first place. I love you, Josephine. I fell in love with you way too fast and it sort of scared the fuck out of me, but I decided to stay anyway, decided to see what loving you could really be like and I have never been happier with a decision I have made in my entire life. I see you, Jo. I’m right here. I’m right in front of you. Just open your eyes and really look at me. You’ll see I’m not going anywhere. I’m exactly where I want to be forever and that’s with you.”

Mikko shifted slowly, letting his hands ease up toward her face to take it gently between them. He applied just enough force to encourage her to turn to face him. Her eyes were still looking down, unable to meet his. Mikko gently ran his thumb over her lower lip softly.

“Josephine, look at me. See how much I love you.”

Jo closed her eyes and took a shaky breath in and out. She didn’t want to look. She was so scared she would look and see nothing and that everything would fall apart in front of her when she couldn’t see it. But Jo couldn’t close her eyes forever. She had to face this moment before she could move to the next one, before she had to deal with the consequences of this one. Jo took in another shaky breath before opening her eyes softly, greeted by Mikko’s.

She knew what color they were. After almost a year of trying to figure it out, she knew what shade of blue his eyes were. Real love wasn’t loud; it didn’t draw crowds. Real love didn’t need to scream itself from rooftops and in song lyrics and in front of the entire world. Real love was quiet, honest and true. It was peaceful and pure and good. And it was in Mikko’s eyes. It was Mikko’s eyes, at least, to Jo anyway. Someone else might look at them and think they were another color, but color was individual. No one ever experienced it the same as anyone else. Mikko’s eyes showed his love for Jo in the most true way she had never imagined possible, in their very color to her. He loved her deeply, deeper than the oceans, deeper than the darkness of Jo’s saddest moments. He loved her fully and honestly. He loved her not in the way Jo had ever written about because she didn’t know this could exist. He loved her in a way that Jo knew, just by looking at him now, that he always would, that he would weather any storm to continue to do so, as long as she loved him too.

Mikko saw Jo see him. He watched the moment she truly understood, just for a moment, how much he loved her. All he needed was the one moment. He could show her the rest. He didn’t hesitate this time. He leaned forward, slowly and steadily, and brushed his lips softly over hers. Jo didn’t hesitate either. Her hands reached out and fisted into his t-shirt, pressing her lips against his more firmly this time. One of Mikko’s hands slid down her neck, down her arm, dipping over to her waist so he could pull her into his lap as he kissed her. Mikko wanted to live like this, Jo as close to him as he could get. He never wanted to not be kissing her now that he'd done it. This was easily his favorite thing to do now, have her under his hands and her lips on his.

“I love you,” Mikko whispered against her mouth when he pulled back before transitioning to kissing down her jaw.

“I love you,” Jo replied easily, the words she had been so scared to admit that now were the easiest words to say in the world.

Mikko groaned as his hand cupping her face journeyed slowly down her body, fingers tapping slowly down her neck, outlining the neckline of the white dress he was never going to be able to get out of his mind until it was replaced with her in a different white dress with a certain piece of music playing in the background with all of their friends and family watching. His mouth moved back to hers, pressing his lips firmer against hers. His hand trailed down to join his other on her hips, keeping her grounded against him as he poured everything he had into the kiss. His words could only do so much. Mikko was trying to show her how he felt, pour his love for her into her as he kissed her.

“I love you,” Mikko repeated against her lips, not realizing in his haze of unbridled happiness it had slipped out in Finnish.

“I love you too,” Jo replied in English.

She didn’t speak Finnish in the slightest. She barely knew a couple of swear words, but those words had felt the same as the others. Based on the way the words made her heart pick up faster in her chest, she knew what they meant.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Mikko mumbled softly, his lips beginning to work gently up and down her neck.

“Ever met yourself?” Jo joked, making Mikko chuckle against her neck.

“I’ll keep that in mind, rakas,” Mikko hummed softly against her skin before kissing her neck gingerly.

Mikko pulled back to look at Jo again, flower crown slightly askew on her head, cheeks flushed due to breathlessness rather than wine now, her lips a deeper shade of pink, slightly swollen. Mikko knew his looked the same. The strap of her dress was pushed down her shoulder, something Mikko must have done accidentally when he was enjoying the feeling of her skin under his palms. She was absolutely angelic like this and she was all his to get to love, to get to cherish, to get to make sure she knew how absolutely, earth-shattering, life-altering loving her was, to get to make sure she knew he considered it the greatest privilege of his life so far.

Jo tried to hide it with a hand over her mouth, but she yawned and Mikko laughed at her poor attempt to hide it. She pouted for him, bottom lip sticking out in a way that made Mikko want to take it between his teeth, but that wasn’t what tonight was. Tonight, he was going to get to fall asleep with Jo in his arms, something she was clearly ready for as he watch her eyes droop closed, and never have to leave her on the couch alone, because she wouldn’t be on the couch anymore. She’d be in his bed with him the entire time and Mikko almost cried at the very thought of opening his eyes and seeing Jo as the first thing he saw on a new day every day. He didn’t have to imagine how her hair would look spread out across his pillow when she slept peacefully. The only time he’d seen it before either Jo had been a wreck or he had and that wasn’t the same. He didn’t have to imagine the way their legs would tangle together as they slept next to each other every night. He would see it and he would feel it in a few short hours. Mikko didn’t have to wait for anything anymore, except maybe seeing Jo in an even prettier white dress.

“I think we need to get you to bed,” Mikko laughed softly when Jo yawned for a second time. His thumb rubbed her cheek softly now, moving in smooth circles, lulling her softly closer to sleep. “Want me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” Jo smiled softly at him, “but thanks, Mik.”

“Anything for you.”

He echoed his words from before, but they meant more to Jo this time because she truly understood what was behind them. It wasn’t cliche in the way that people often meant it, too sickeningly sweet, sticking to everything uncomfortably with artificial love like artificial sugar, only to leave a bad taste in your mouth later. Mikko said it and it was real. He meant anything, from dancing with her in her brightest moments, to holding her hand in her darkest hours; from telling her when she needed to pick herself up, dust off her knees, and get herself back in gear, to using all of his strength to get her back up after she was knocked down. Mikko could say he would do anything for Jo because in saying it, he would do whatever needed to be done to ensure Jo was the happiest, truest version of herself, that she was the woman she wanted to be.

As Mikko pulled Jo into his chest to fall asleep, he didn’t have to be careful. He didn’t need to worry he was holding her too close, if he was crossing a line he wasn’t supposed to even realize existed. He could just hold her now. Jo fell asleep easily, the exhaustion of the day wearing heavier on her, pulling her to sleep moments after they climbed into bed. Mikko looked down at the beautiful girl against his chest and he smiled because she was smiling. She fell asleep like that. Mikko willed himself to sleep with the promise of that smile being the first thing he would get to see tomorrow morning, what he had been dreaming of for almost a year now, what he wanted to see every morning for the rest of his life.

------

Jo opened her eyes slowly and she immediately knew it was way too early to be awake. Finland getting less than six hours of darkness in the summer would have been fine if there were blackout curtains like at Mikko’s apartment, but here in the cottage, that wasn’t the case. Jo wanted to fall back asleep, but that wasn’t in Jo’s skillset, so she was up now whether she liked it or not, and she most certainly did not. Mikko had Jo locked against his chest, his strong, heavy, still sleeping arms wrapped around her keeping her there. She fished around under her pillow, sighing with relief when her fingers wrapped around her phone. The time was atrocious, not even seven in the morning yet, but Jo was still happier than she had been in a long time as she let herself look at the boy whose arms were keeping her warm.

Mikko’s hair was sort of all over the place, blond strands going in multiple directions. His face was soft, dimple hidden since this was one of the rare moments Mikko didn’t have his customary wide smile on his face. His lips were slightly parted, practically begging to be kissed, and Jo couldn’t resist. She knew it might wake him up, but she wanted to kiss him. Jo leaned her head up, wiggling in his tight grasp enough so she could press a quick, barely noticeable kiss to his lips. Except Mikko noticed. Mikko had been thinking about how her lips would feel against his since that September night on the rooftop and he was not going to miss an opportunity to actually feel it, sleep be damned.

He hummed softly as he reached up to cup her face, keeping her in place as he pressed into Jo’s supposedly quick, unnoticeable kiss. The kiss was broken by both of them smiling into it, the best reason to break a kiss. Mikko titled his head up to press a kiss to her forehead as Jo smiled.

“Morning, rakas,” Mikko told her softly. “A little early for you, no?”

“Morning, Mik,” she sighed contentedly, burrowing her head under his chin, into his neck, and pulling herself flush against him. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“No worries,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her tangled hair now. “We can sleep more whenever.”

“Aren’t your friends coming up later?” Jo reminded him hesitantly.

Mikko groaned before Jo could even finish her question and Jo laughed before Mikko had even half finished his groan. He pressed his face into her hair and pulled her tighter into his chest. Jo managed to get her head up a bit to place a kiss on his jaw, drawing a long sigh from him.

“If I pretend they aren’t coming, will they still come?” Mikko asked the universe more than he asked Jo. “I just want to spend the whole day with my Jojo.”

“Your Jojo, huh?” Jo teased him, following her teasing with a kiss to his jaw, the only thing she could reach with his tight grasp on her.

Jojo squeaked when Mikko suddenly shifted, taking her with him. She was on her back now, Mikko’s large hands on the bed beside her head, strong arms holding him firmly above her. Like this, his body blocking out everything except how the sheets felt under her hands, Jo was reminded just how much bigger he was than her. More than anything though, Jo couldn’t take her eyes off him, with the sunlight pouring in from the window, making his eyes seem even brighter and lighter, shining through his golden waves. He was the most beautiful person Jo had ever seen and he was all hers.

The funny thing about being in love with someone, about being two people who come together to create something that is somehow more than the two of them were separately, is that sometimes they think the same thoughts. As Mikko looked down at Jo, hair fanned out across the pillow, sunlight showing the golden flecks in her eyes, her lips slightly parted, a deep shade of pink leftover from yesterday, Mikko thought Jo was the most beautiful person he had ever seen and she was all his.

As Mikko dropped down, his elbows coming to rest where his palms had been, so he could press his lips to hers, all he could think about what how much he loved Jo and how good it felt to be loved by her in return. It was all he could think about as one of his hands trailing down her side, feeling the curves of her body under his palm. All Jo could think about was how lucky she felt to being loved by him and get to love him back, even though she had held herself back from him for so long, thinking she was undeserving of this happiness. With his lips on her neck now, a hand under her shirt on her waist, and one of her hands tangled into his hair, he felt so right to Jo. Everything about him was right, the softness of his hair when she ran her fingers through it, the way his hand felt sliding over her skin, the strength she felt in his shoulders under her hand. Everything about Mikko was right.

“Mikko,” Jo breathed out when he tugged down the neckline of her t-shirt to keep kissing more of her, “you can just take it off.”

Mikko held back a sound deep in his throat at her words. This was what he never let himself think about. If he thought about this, he couldn’t have been her friend over the past year. The thought of this would have corrupted that, weaving its way into how he treated her. He never let his mind go here, imagining what it would be like to have her in his bed like this. She needed him to be her friend, so he forced the thoughts from his mind, knowing they would poison everything he was trying to be for her. But now, now this is what she needed. This was what she wanted. He didn’t have to dream about it. He could just live it, right now.

Mikko took his time. He was pretty sure he would get to do this countless times over the course of the rest of his life, but this would always be the first time he got to make her absolutely breathless, speechless, and he wanted to take his sweet, sweet time. Jo, who normally wanted her life to run at the pace her mind usually did, wanted Mikko to take his time as he pushed her shirt up and off her body, as he kissed every inch of skin as he revealed it.

He took his time learning every curve, every spot that made her gasp, every one that made her giggle. He took his time exposing her in front of him, except Jo didn’t feel exposed. She felt damn near worshiped when Mikko settled between her thighs, kissing her, tasting her, making her fist her hands into his hair desperately. Slow and steady, like the calming waves of the ocean, Mikko pulled Jo over the edge again and again until she couldn’t be patient anymore, until she needed him more than anything else.

He kissed her as he slid inside of her for the first time, a sensation that made Jo cry out and Mikko almost lose it with how good this moment was, the softness breaking a little as he cursed into her neck, desperately grabbing for anything inside to anchor him before this moment broke way sooner than he would’ve liked. He anchored in the most stable thing he’d ever felt.

“I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too, Mikko.”

The entire world seemed to slow down, letting them live in this moment for longer than they thought possible. As long as the world was going to spin a little slower, Mikko was going to spend his extra time like this, with soft moans falling from Jo’s mouth, whispers of his name between them, as he slowly rolled his hips into hers and slowly lost his mind a little at the feeling of her, at the sight of her. Mikko collapsed down onto her when he finally finished, head collapsing into the crook of her neck as her hand ran through his hair gently.

“I love you,” Mikko repeated again. “I’m never going to get tired of saying it, so I hope you never get tired of hearing it.”

“It’s my favorite sound in the entire world, Mik,” Jo said breathlessly. “I’m never going to get tired of it.”

Mikko kissed her neck again before he slowly rolled over onto the bed next to her, pulling her partially on top of his chest in one smooth motion. He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair, working out the tangles gingerly as his breathing slowed to normal, as the world starting to spin at the right speed again.

“Hate to ask and ruin the moment,” Jo spoke as she idly traced circles and swirls onto Mikko’s bare chest, “but what time are your friends coming?”

“Oh, that’s not happening anymore,” he groaned, reaching for his phone to cancel the festivities that were supposed to be coming their way.

“As much as I want to spend the day with you, here, you can’t cancel day of,” Jo pressed softly.

“Watch me,” Mikko laughed, kissing her forehead. “Sanna’s dad has a cottage we were originally going to go to before I found this place. They can figure it out. I’ve got something way better to do right here already.”

“Mikko!”

He laughed as Jo smacked his chest, her cheeks turning pink at the literal and intended meaning of his words. He kissed her temple, eyes fixed on his phone screen as he typed out a terrible excuse to his friend group. It was a boldfaced lie. Mikko said that he and Jo both had gotten sick after last night and that it wasn’t a pretty sight and he didn’t want any of them to catch what they had, so they should just go to Sanna’s instead. The lie worked for the length of time it took someone to respond in the group chat, which was about twenty seconds, telling Mikko that if he wanted a private sex trip with his girlfriend, he should’ve just told them that from the beginning. They were teasing, all in good jest, and Mikko knew it, but they also weren’t far from the truth as to why he was telling them they needed to change their plans.

“They’re good with it,” Mikko told Jo after tossing his phone back onto the nightstand, gratefully she couldn’t speak Finnish so she couldn’t read what specifically had been said.

“I find that hard to believe that’s how they said it, seeing as you laughed,” Jo called him out easily, “but I’ll let it slide because this is what I want too.”

“Mmm,” Mikko hummed softly, hand rubbing Jo’s arm softly. “Want to celebrate getting this place all to ourselves today in the shower?”

“I could be convinced.”

------

Jo ran a towel through her hair again, trying to get a little more of the water out so she didn’t trail it around the cottage. She decided how it was now was as good as it was going to get, slid on one of Mikko’s large t-shirts he left for her and some comfy shorts, then headed into the kitchen where he was. He was shirtless, hair wet from the shower they shared, his hands busy pouring two cups of tea. Jo sighed as she reached him, letting her arms wrap around his waist from behind. Mikko put the kettle down in order to give one of her arms a quick squeeze.

“Hi there,” Mikko said softly. “Tea’s good right?”

“Tea’s perfect, baby,” Jo replied before kissing his shoulder softly.

Mikko hummed softly at the feeling of her pressed up against him, her lips on his skin. Mornings with her like this had been the thing Mikko craved most because what they had before had been so close to this, having breakfast together, spending the quiet moments of the morning together. But it was so much sweeter now, now that they were damp from the same shower, now that Jo was pressed up against him, now that she was truly his to love.

“Want to drink these outside? There’s this big couch,” was all Mikko had to say to get a happy noise from Jo and get her turning for the back door.

Mikko carried the tea, just enough steps behind Jo to be lucky enough to see her launch herself into the large round couch. She tunneled herself into the pillows as Mikko laughed. He didn’t really understand his girlfriend’s love affair with comfortable couches, but he could get behind it and make sure she had as many as she wanted. Mikko sat the cups on the side table and climbed onto the couch with her. He settled himself among the pillows before he patted his thighs, stretching out his legs for Jo to come sit between them. She slid in between his legs happily, her back pressing against his chest. Mikko wrapped an arm around her waist, large hand spread out across her stomach. He grabbed Jo’s mug and handed it off to her with his free hand before grabbing his own.

Jo was fiddling with the tag on her tea bag and Mikko knew something was on her mind. He didn’t have to push this time. He just gave her a small, supportive squeeze with his arm around her and she let him know what was going on inside her head.

“Do you want to like, tell people? By people I mean like, everyone,” Jo asked him softly.

“Jo, I want you and have you,” Mikko replied, like what he was saying was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. “The rest of it doesn’t concern me. I don’t care what people say. I care what you have to say. You’re my only stake in all of this, the only part I care about. Whatever you want is good with me. You want to put it on Instagram? Go for it. You want to write songs about me? I’d be honored. You want this to just be us and never talk about me in public? I’ll be just as happy as long as we have our friends and family and I have you. I don’t care about the details, Jo. Whatever you want is good with me. But don’t think you need to protect me, okay? I’m a big boy and I love you more than enough to handle anything to keep loving you, okay? I’m not changing my mind. I’m not going to get overwhelmed. I have you and the rest of it doesn’t matter to me.”

Jo almost cried at his words. She didn’t have a way to express the way her heart rose in her chest and then settled back down, cushioned by just how deeply she loved him, at his words. She didn’t have words for that feeling, so she had to settle for a sort of joke.

“Sort of already started on the song thing, so good to know that’s okay,” Jo laughed a little as she talked, hands fidgeting with her mug.

“I can’t wait to hear them, Jojo,” he replied, kissing her temple with a smile on his face. “You don’t have to play them for me, obviously. But if you want to, I want to hear.”

“Of course I’ll play them for you, Mikko,” Jo said as Mikko took a few long sips of his tea. “They’re for you. The rest of the world will just get to hear them at some point.”

Mikko smiled against the edge of his mug and pressed his nose softly into her hair, letting his eyes close, just breathing in the moment as best as he could. He settled back into the couch, bringing his tea and Jo with him, tea secure in his hand and Jo secure against his chest and Mikko realized there was no place he would rather be. A comfortable silence fell over them as they drank their tea and Mikko’s hand rubbed in smooth circles over her stomach. Jo’s free hand rubbed up and down his forearm as she looked out at the water, thinking there was no place she would rather be either.

“Thank you,” Jo said softly, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

Mikko just kissed the side of her head and took a sip of his tea in reply.

“Thank you for being patient with me,” Jo spoke softly this time, voice hesitant, “for waiting.”

“Josephine Evans,” Mikko smiled as he spoke, “I’d wait for you my whole life if that’s what it took.”

Jo sighed, letting herself put all her weight against his chest, and let her love for him settle throughout her, through every inch of her, where it had always belonged. Mikko kissed her head again, face pressing softly into her hair. Mikko would have waited for her his entire life, but he was so happy he didn’t have to.

“Hey, Mikko?”

Jo’s tone was lighter than when she had spoken the same words yesterday. The question was hesitant, but there was unbridled joy behind it.

“Yeah, Jo?” he replied, just so she knew without a doubt he was listening.

“I think we should get married here someday.”

Mikko sat his now almost empty mug down to wrap both arms around her tightly, dropping his face into her neck. He kissed her neck softly and sweetly as his heart swelled on his chest. He had her now, the person he wanted more than anything else in his life, but hearing her say that, those eight words, Mikko knew there was something he wanted more for certain. He wanted her in a pretty white dress, by the water, promising in front of the people who mattered most to them that what they felt was forever. Mikko could see it now, the flowers down the dock, the chairs by the water, he could see it all. He could see Jo barefoot in the kitchen ten years from now, a ring on her finger and a child on her hip. He could see her when she was eighty-five, hair long since gone gray, still making him smile. He could see her in every part of his future, loving her all the same in each thought that felt like memories that had yet to actually happen.

Mikko had spent almost a year trying to get across the hurricane in her mind to find the girl he loved behind it all. It has been the hardest thing he’d ever done, but holding her now, staring out at the water, with the world quiet except for the small waves crashing on the shore and the feeling of how much they loved each other, thinking about marrying her someday sooner rather than later, Mikko didn’t have a single regret.

“Whenever you're ready, Jo, I’m ready.”

#mikko rantanen #mikko rantanen fanfic #mikko rantanen writing #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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happytsukki · 4 years

Text

common sense

k. tsukishima

you were a fool. but only for tsukishima. (f! reader)

a/n: ive been reading the manga and chapters 370+ literally have me bawling, im so emotionally attached. also fun fact you cant get your drivers license in japan till you graduate high school,,big rip for (y/n) and her food.

someone with common sense would’ve ran home to avoid the predicted forecast. they would’ve enjoyed safely arriving home without getting a single drop of rain on their uniform. but you lacked common sense.

the steady beat of raindrops hitting the ground accompanied by a strong gust of wind greeted you as you exited the school. you stood waiting, a bright green umbrella painted with purple triceratops in one hand while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“what are you still doing here?” a voice suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. looking up you locked eyes with tsukishima causing a champagne pink hue to creep onto your cheeks.

“oh, i-uh, knew you didn’t have an umbrella, so i figured i would wait for you and we could walk together,” you beamed. tsukishima rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but you swore you could see the corners of his lips curl up.

you knew tsukishima. you knew he hated the rain and deep down, he appreciated your kind gesture even if he didn’t say it.

he grabbed the umbrella in your hand and opened it outside the safety of the building. he took two steps into the rain before turning around to realize you were still frozen on the steps of karasuno high. there you were, an idiot shivering from head to toe in the cold weather, yet you still had a smile painted across your face.

“are you gonna just stand there or are you actually coming?” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion.

“coming!!” you cooed before running down the steps and practicing colliding with him as you pressed closer to him under the tiny umbrella. maybe you should’ve packed a bigger umbrella, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

you walked in unison, small drops falling onto your sweater as you could barely fit under the umbrella with the beanpole. you took notice of one hand tucked away in the warmth of his jacket and the other clutching the umbrella for the two of you. and with your warm gloves, you placed a hand over his.

“sorry, your hand seemed a little cold” you blurted out, slightly afraid he would take his hand away in disgust. but he didn’t, he let you hold his hand. you could finally release the breath you were holding and smiled. rainy days never felt good. the sky may have been dark and gloomy, but being with him felt as if it was another spring day, the sun beaming brightly and the birds chirping.

your walk consisted of asking tsukishima about his volleyball club season and him asking about your classes. you wanted to amuse him, to hear his laugh just once, so you told him the story of how you went to school thinking you math test only to find it was actually an english test, receiving a grade no higher than your age.

and miraculously, he laughed. it was subtle and quiet, but it took away your breath and made your heart race.

tsukishima halted, finally arriving at his home. he glanced up at the sky before catching it slowly transform from a color to a baby blue.

“it stopped raining—“ you cut him off midsentence, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him closer before you placed a quick peck on his lips.

“bye!” you shouted as you ran away. leaving poor tsukishima standing there, dumbfounded as to why his heart was beating so fast and why his knees turned into complete jelly.

you liked tsukishima. and luckily, he liked you too.

someone with common sense would’ve finished their homework and took advantage of a night free of worry. they would’ve enjoyed a full eight hours of sleep while dreams danced through their mind. but you lacked common sense.

the kitchen clock read 2:18, you were growing impatient waiting for cookies in the oven. before your crazy attempt to make lunches and treats for the entire karasuno team, you studied for your history test and finished a 10-page essay due the next day.

with your apron stained with all sorts of condiments and food, you glanced at the pile of bento boxes placed on your dining table. each decorated with a name of every player on karasuno’s mens volleyball club, of course including the cutest managers and best coaches.

the lunch box on top, reading my tsukki, my moon made with extra love and care for you boyfriend.

tomorrow was the miyagi prefectural qualifiers and as much as you wanted to be there, you had school. you longed to be in the crowds, screaming for tsukki and karasuno at the top of your lungs. so of course, you felt guilty for not being able to give your support. an alternative? food.

beep beep. the timer of the oven finally went off and you breathed a sigh of relief. you weren’t sure how long you could keep your eyelids open. your tiredness must’ve gotten to your head because without a second thought you opened the oven and reached for the scorching pan.

you spewed a variety of curses quietly in an attempt to not wake your parents, but the pain was intolerable. after taking the cookies out with the opposite hand, throwing them in a container and trying to type out ‘how to deal with burns’ with your pinky while one hand held ice (not a good idea) to the burn— you fell asleep on the couch.

not even 3 hours later, you woke up. oh the things i do for this boy. you shook your head, a smile creeping onto your face just thinking about him. you quickly throw on a hoodie and carefully place the food into a basket attached to your bike.

the sun had barely come up, just peeking from the horizon. it was way too early. riding your bike to karasuno while you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned nonstop was a challenge. you almost tipped over several times. but once you arrived you were greeted by a horde of “hey it’s y/n!!” but the only thing you could really hear was “y/n what are you doing here?”

“well, good morning to you too, tsukki,” you chirped, taking the food out of your basket and carefully distributing it to everyone.

“wow y/n, you really didn’t have to do this.” daichi said. “but this does look amazing.” sugawara butt in, admiring the cute design. “y/n you’re the best, seriously!!” praised hinata, already shoving a small bite into his mouth for a quick ‘taste.’

when you handed tsukki his, confusion and worry came across his face. “but— look at you y/n. you look terrible.” he spat, reaching over to inspect your face. he titled your chin up and pulled your eyes wide.

“is that what you tell your girlfriend after she spent all night to make you lunch?” you pouted, slightly hurt from how he reacted.

“i think y/n looks pretty, like always.” yamaguchi gushed from afar.

“shut up yamaguchi.” “sorry tsukki!!”

“but you know thats not what i meant. i’m just worried about, you look like you haven’t sleep at all.” he shook his head.

“hey! technically i slept for 3 hours.” you argued, earning a signature tsukishima eye roll from the man himself.

“you’re an idiot, y/n. but thank you.” he muttered and placed a kiss on your forehead. suddenly, coach ukai cut in and yelled for everyone to get in the van. groaning, tsukki squeezed you into a hug.

“sorry i can’t be there, but win for me and i’ll be there next match. i promise” you pouted, adding an extra boost of encouragement for tsukishima. these days, you’d noticed how passionate he’d become about the sport and no words could describe your happiness over this.

after waving bye to the team and wishing them the best of luck, you stood alone in the parking lot. happy and excited for what was to come for the karasuno boys volleyball club. but stupid for thinking you could make it through the rest of your day on the mere 3 hours of sleep.

you were an idiot— a fool, perhaps.

someone might as well hand you a jester hat and shoes, bells included, of course. because you were a fool, for tsukishima kei only.

someone with common sense would’ve followed the sign saying “only players allowed on court.” they would’ve yelled praises of encouragement from the stands and just sent a text. but you lacked common sense.

as soon as you saw red liquid ooze from tsukishima’s hand, you hoped out of your seat and grabbed your belongings without hesitation. oh no. your heart sunk and before yachi could even try to calm you down you were already running.

past the crowds and down the stairs leading to the court. you sprinted towards the karasuno team, completely ignoring the officials yelling at you.

you gently pushed through tsukishima’s teammates and an angry expression reached your face once you met eyes with the boy.

“tsukishima kei, are you stupid?” you cursued at him. his face turns a slight pink as his teammates snicker at your typical girlfriend antics. meanwhile, several tournament officials walked over to check on tsukishima’s condition and kick you off the court since you weren’t a player. but you didn’t care. you took his hurt hand into yours, putting your face closer to examine the extent of his injury.

he winced in pain causing your anger to melt away. “you almost gave me a heart attack, you have no idea how worried i was up th-“ you blab on before tsukishima reassures you.

“y/n i’m still breathing, right? you care about me that much huh?” tsukishima smirked as he tried to hide the pain he felt in his right hand.

“okay lovebirds, why don’t you go to the medical office together and get it checked out? we’re going to need you back on the court, tsukishima.” coach ukai quickly sends the two of you away in hopes of him returning by the fifth set.

akiteru and yachi anxiously follow as you and tsukishima rush to the medical office. they wait outside and the doctor tells you two that only his pinky is discolated and the rest of his fingers are fine, so he can still return but he has to wait for the bleeding to stop. the doctor excuses himself to get more bandages, leaving the two of you alone.

you stand up from your seat to stand in front of tsukishima. his face is serious, clearly still fixated on the game still going on at the moment. you wanted to give him peace but you couldn’t hold in how proud you were.

you go on to explain how amazed you were. “and when you jumped up to block, i knew ushijima had no chance— then BOOM! his spike goes straight down into the floor. i think i broke yachi’s eardums with my screaming. not to mention how hot you looked out there like what the hell??” you gushed, making tsukishima smile amidst his pain.

he pulled you in closer and wrapped his long arms around your torso, tucking his face into the comfort of your neck. like muscle memory, your hand finds its way to his back and began to rub circles.

“you’re really sweaty, tsukki. its kinda gross.” you whisper into his hear making him click his tongue in response. but despite the perspiration dripping down his back, you honestly didn’t mind.

tsukishima pulls away, his eyes wander around your face. his breath hitching at your every feature, especially at how your eyes possessed a unique twinkle that didn’t just resemble stars but the entire galaxy. then he remembers the day he fell in love with you, that day you walked home together in the rain.

“god y/n, you’re crazy you know that, right? but i love you.” he chuckles. “i know.” you proudly state while you try to hide the fact that your heart was physically hurting from how fast it was beating. “and i-“ you sprinkle a dozen kisses all over tsukishima’s face. one for eveything you loved about him.” love you too, kei” you say before pressing your swollen lips against his.

“now go out there and beat shiratorizawa’s ass!”

and that’s exactly what he does.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #anime scenarios #anime imagines

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ejzah · 4 years

Text

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 12

A/N: Hopefully this chapter isn’t too much of a mess, but I think it kind of might be. It’s been a bear to deal with. I based it around a modified version of “Little Angels” from season 2.

***

Deeks was sitting on the edge of his desk, facing Sam and Callen while they chatted. He’d finished all of his paperwork and setting up his online accounts. He now had limited access to several federal databases (of course only after being threatened with life imprisonment if he discussed the contents with anyone). There wasn’t much else he could do until someone gave him further instruction.

“So how’d the firearms training go?” Sam asked Deeks, smirking at him in a not entirely friendly way. Scratch that, there was nothing friendly about it. Deeks had known Agent Hanna would be a hard sell from the moment he met him, but he wasn’t sure why the other man had so much animosity for him. Even his lack of experience didn’t explain it.

“It went fine,” Deeks answered, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. Kensi was talking with Hetty in her “office”. Likely talking about him. Somehow he didn’t think Hetty would be overly impressed with his progress at the shooting range.

If she made it a point of contention, he would reference his freshly signed contract, which made no mention of firearms training. He’d double checked.

“Really?” Callen said condescendingly. “So you fired inside the lines?”

“Yes.” Deeks wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend himself. He didn’t even want firearms training. It would actually probably work in his favor if he played up on his lack of ability, but there was something infuriating about the two agents’ superior attitude. They immediately assumed he would fail and that annoyed him.

“Where?” Sam asked, his voice leading.

“Right shoulder,” Deeks said, not mentioning how close it had been to the very edge.

“Ha, knew it!”

“You do remember that this was my first lesson, right?” Deeks didn’t expect them to have any sympathy, and he was right.

“Deeks, I had better aim than that when I was a kid,” Sam said. And so had he, Deeks thought bitterly.

“Well to be fair, not all of us were overachievers,” Callen said, his tone teasing. He muttered something that sounded like “mathlete” under his breath and Sam glared at him warningly. “In any case, Deeks, I hope you’re seeing that this isn’t a game. It’s a hard job and it takes dedication.”

“Never thought it was,” Deeks said with a bitter smile. He saw Kensi coming back down and remembered their bet. While chatting, he’d been silently thinking of ways to distract her enough to make her touch him. Based on the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be all that difficult.

A piercing whistle echoed through the room, distracting him from his nefarious plans, and they all turned towards the stairs where Eric and Hetty were waiting. Each day Eric had announced his presence in a different, and often bizarre, way. Personally, Deeks preferred the day Eric had yodeled his way down the stairs. The song was unrecognizable and sounded truly awful, but Deeks appreciated the variation. Not to mention, the irritation on Sam’s face.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, make haste,” Hetty said gravely. Deeks followed everyone up the stairs, moving to the back of the room as Eric pulled up a man’s military ID on the big screen.

“Commander Jason Rehme designs and maintains the cryptographic logons used by the department of naval personnel with the highest security clearance,” Eric began.

“Commander Jason Rehme is missing,” Hetty added. “He had a department meeting at 0600. He never showed.”

“He hasn’t answered any calls, texts or emails.”

“Does NCIS normally handle missing person cases?” Deeks asked, wondering why a case like this wouldn’t be handed down to a lesser agency.

“The Commander isn’t just any missing person,” Eric answered. “Rehme has access to nearly all of the navy’s confidential information. He’d be a prime target for domestic and international terrorists.”

“Ok, that’s definitely not good.”

“Indeed, Mr. Deeks.”

“He’s been missing for an hour and a half,” Callen said, glancing at Eric. “Send me his last known whereabouts. Let’s move.”

“What do you want me to do?” Deeks asked as he jogged down the stairs behind Kensi.

“You can hang out with Eric,” Sam suggested. “Maybe he has some files that need to be burned or something.” Deeks frowned at the back of his head, pursing his lips.

“He really does not like me,” he muttered as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Kensi stopped beside him.

“He’ll come around eventually,” she said. She reached to knock his shoulder, but pulled her hand back at the last second before she made contact. “But until then, don’t try to annoy him too much.”

Deeks didn’t comment on that, watching as Kensi grabbed her Sig and slipped it into her waistband.

“Be careful,” he said, leaning towards her. Her eyes widened for a second as he dipped his head. “I wouldn’t want anything to interfere with our date.” Kensi’s lips parted for a second, her body drifting closer to his for a second. Then she abruptly pulled back with a smirk.

“I think you mean you don’t want anything to interfere with my tacos. Because I’m definitely not losing this bet.” She walked backwards for a few steps, looking extremely pleased with herself.

“Touché,” he shouted after her.

***

The three agents returned looking subdued, and on Sam’s part, extremely angry. He headed to Hetty’s office immediately without saying a word. He had a fierce, singleminded look about him that immediately put Deeks more on edge than he already was.

“We found the Commander, but his daughter-“

“Is missing,” Deeks finished for Kensi. “Yeah, Eric told me.” He’d also shown him the video the Commander received from Amanda’s kidnapper. The sounds of her panicked screams and pleas would likely fuel Deeks’ nightmares for some time to come.

“Do you have any idea who might have done it? Eric said that there was a guy who killed three other girls this way, but that he was still in prison.” Kensi shook her head, biting at her bottom lip.

“No. It has to be a copycat. We’re stalled right now because this is technically the FBI’s case. Sam’s asking Hetty to let us take over or at least assist the FBI,” Callen explained with a deep sigh. “This is not going to be a pretty case. And the longer this takes, the less time Amanda has.”

“We have co-lead on the case,” Sam said, jogging down to the bullpen. “Let’s see what Eric has.”

“The Angeles National Forest is close to 650,000 acres,” Eric said a few minutes later when they were all in the operations center. “If Amanda’s in there, finding her is going to be next to impossible.”

“What about using infrared?” Kensi asked.

“She’s buried, her body temperature is dropping. It’s not going to work.” Deeks silently watched as they tossed around suggestions, moving with a single-mindedness he’d yet to witness. He felt useless amidst the urgency.

“Can you bring up the kidnapper’s video again?” Callen requested. Deeks could have lived without ever seeing it again. Eric pulled it up along with the video of the other three girls.

“The camera angle’s the same on every one, same size box,” Deeks noticed, earning a surprised look from Sam who added,

“And those are the same blue surgical gloves.”

“I’d say whoever killed the first three girls also has Amanda.” No one contradicted him.

He took a step back again as Eric searched for the Chevy Malibu that had left the park in the wee hours. It was amazing how quickly they were able to narrow it down the owner once Kensi noticed the damage and link it to Lucas Maragos’ brother, Andre.

“Kensi, go out to the US penitentiary at Victorville and see if you can make some sense of this,” Callen instructed.

“And take Mr. Deeks with you,” Hetty added, silently stepping into the room as she observed the various pieces of evidence on the screen.

Kensi looked just as surprised as Deeks felt, but she didn’t question Hetty’s instructions.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Callen asked. Personally, Deeks had wondered the same.

”This seems the perfect situation; I’m sure Deeks has interviewed many a criminal while in prison.” She looked to him for confirmation and he nodded.

“I have.” Just not ones who were serving life sentences for burying children alive. “I can handle it.”

“Good,” Hetty said, gesturing for them to go.

***

“So what do you want me to do?” Deeks asked, glancing around the cool jail cell. A guard had escorted them to the room a few minutes ago and directed them to sit at the table while he retrieved Lucas Maragos. It was oddly lit, the sunlight streaming through the window creating an almost sunset feel to the room. Somehow it only added to the overall creep factor.

Although he’d been a part of more serious criminal cases, particularly while he was finishing law school, he’d never defended a killer before. He wasn’t really looking forward to meeting a man capable of torturing little girls and their families.

Kensi didn’t respond, her gaze focused on her phone and he nudged her with his shoulder. She’d been mostly silent during the drive to the penitentiary. Although he’d felt the urge to break the tension with humor, he’d controlled himself. This wasn’t the time for distraction.

“Callen and Sam found the Malibu in Andre Maragos’ garage,” she told him, brows furrowed.

“That’s good, right?” Deeks asked. “I mean, it’s horrible in that this guy is probably a serial killer too, but it means that we’re closer to finding Amanda.”

“Andre and his wife claim they don’t know anything about the car. Supposedly their personal assistant is the only one who uses it. Callen and Sam are going to check out a camp in Angeles Forest that Andre and Lucas went to when they were kids.”

“That’s good, Kensi,” he said encouragingly. “It means we’re getting closer.” She turned to face him, her eyebrows drawn forward with worry.

“Callen also said that Eric calculated how much air is left in the box Amanda is buried in. It’s less than nine hours now Deeks. That’s not enough time,” she said, sounding distraught.

There was nothing else he could say that wouldn’t be a pointless platitude so he simply took Kensi’s hand and squeezed it. She smiled gratefully, squeezing back, her hand cool and firm in his.

“Wait a second,” she said after a second, her expression turning suspicious. She dropped his hand abruptly. “You’re trying to make me lose the bet, aren’t you?”

“That honestly was the very last thing on my mind,” he told her, amazed that she thought his mind was on anything other than Amanda at the moment. Kensi looked momentarily abashed before she gathered herself again.

“Oh, sorry. But keep your hands to yourself for now. We don’t want to give this guy anything to work with.”

“Which brings me back to my original question, what do you want me to do?”

“Just follow my lead.”

“That’s super helpful,” he muttered under his breath. Despite what most people thought, he liked to plan before he acted, particularly when it came to interviews.

The outer door buzzed and two prison guards brought Maragos through. His hands and ankles where both bound with chains.

Beside him, Kensi sat with her back perfectly straight, appearing professional and detached. There wasn’t a hint of the uncertain woman from a few minutes ago. It was amazing how easily she could flip that switch.

“Mr. Maragos, do you know why you’re here?” she asked, once the guards left.

“Another girl was kidnapped,” Marago said. “Which means that I might not have to spend the rest of my life in here.” His arrogance amazed Deeks and he couldn’t help himself from saying,

“It’s interesting that you know about her, given that you’re in prison and haven’t had any visitors in weeks.” Maragos just shrugged. For a second, Deeks thought he’d gone too far.

“Was the MO the same?” Maragos asked after a moment.

“Exactly the same,” Kensi confirmed.

“You got a partner on the outside?” Deeks followed up.

“Oh no. No, no, no,” he answered, his tone almost mocking which just fueled Deeks’ quiet rage. His resolution to follow Kensi’s lead was completely forgotten. “Check my call records and my email.”

“We did,” Kensi said shortly. “The only phone calls you make are to your brother Andre.”

Lucas Maragos shifted, showing the first sign of discomfort, if it could be called that, since he’d entered the room.

“Is that it? You and your brother like killing together?” Deeks wasn’t sure where the question had come, but he saw the slightest flash in Maragos’ eyes. It was enough to make him continue. “Yeah? Bury the girl and then sit there giggling with each other while they suffocate to death?” He heard Kensi inhale sharply, but didn’t look away from Maragos.

Lucas shook his head, glancing away, like Deeks’ words has somehow affected him.

“I didn’t kill those girls,” he insisted.

“Course not,” Deeks whispered. Maragos moved his hands, for what purpose he wasn’t sure, but Deeks felt a moment of sadistic pleasure when the chains prevented him from moving further. His jaw clenched, a hint of anger showing for the first time. Good, they were getting to him.

“Is there any evidence at all that points to my brother? He could have committed all these murders,” he suggested.

“Your DNA is all over the victim’s bodies,” Kensi said, her tone short and pointed.

“We’re related, the DNA’s gotta be close. Nobody checked my brother’s DNA.” Sighing, Kensi ignored Maragos’ attempt to distract them.

“You and your brother went to the same camp in Angeles National Forest. We think the latest girl could be buried there.”

“I help you find her, you reopen my case,” Maragos said. Deeks answered before Kensi could.

“You have nothing to do with it, sure.” Maybe it wasn’t his place to make promises, but he knew the importance of limitations. He’d seen enough guys get off because of loopholes. And he was 95% certain this guy was involved in the kidnapping and murders in some way.

“When we were kids, there were feral cats all over the place. Andre? Well, André used to spend hours catching them and strangling them.” It sounded like he was telling a bedtime story and Deeks felt his stomach clench. There wasn’t any sign that Maragos felt any remorse for his brother’s supposed actions.

“Wow, the golden summers of a sociopathic’s youth,” Deeks whispered. Kensi knocked his knee under the table. Maybe that had been going a bit far.

“I know where he buried them,” he insisted.

“Ok, then show us,” Kensi said.

“That was...impressive,” Kensi said half an hour later as they waited for Maragos to be loaded into transport. Deeks had wanted to draw up a legal document for Lucas to sign, making his offer to help binding. Kensi insisted that they didn’t need to, pressing time as a main concern.

“Yeah, sorry. I got a little carried away,” Deeks responded, scratching at his beard. She didn’t sound upset with him, but he had sort of hijacked the interview.

“You sounded a lot more like a cop than I expected.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ve spent enough time watching interrogations. And that didn’t seem that much different from when I have someone up in the witness stand,” he explained, then smirked at Kensi who looked worried and distracted again. “Of course, usually the witness is suing someone for scratching their Porsche or reneging on a business deal.”

“I’m glad you were there,” Kensi admitted, surprising him. “He gives me the creeps. If I was on my own, I might have punched his lights out.”

“Always happy to be of service. Any update from Sam and Callen?”

“They’re questioning Andre now. He wasn’t home last night.”

“Mm, well that doesn’t bode well for Andre. Hopefully Lucas actually knows where the body is and isn’t just taking the opportunity to get his first day trip in two years,” he said bitterly.

***

A/N: Obviously some event were changed or left out from the actual episode to suit my purpose. The next chapter will deal with the second part of the episode.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #sam hanna #g callen #eric beale #hetty lange #au #the agent and the lawyer #part 12 #little angels #ejzah fanfiction

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221brownstone · 5 years

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Vulture: Elementary’s Joan Watson Is the Best-Dressed Detective on TV

In the seventh and final season of Elementary, Joan Watson is blonde. The character’s style has constantly evolved alongside her detective career and partnership with Sherlock Holmes (Jonny Lee Miller), but in all her years on the show, there has been very little change to Lucy Liu’s locks. With just 13 episodes left, though, Joan has drastically altered her hair, which in turn means one last style shake-up for the best-dressed detective on TV.

Credit for that goes to costume designer Rebecca Hofherr, who has worked on the CBS procedural since its second episode in 2012, and who has guided Joan’s transformation from predominantly casual-leaning clothing to more structured menswear-inspired pieces. Hofherr spoke to Vulture about the narrative and fashion influences behind Joan’s costume evolution, including how they put their own stamp on an iconic duo and the sartorial challenges of shooting a 20-plus-episode season in New York City.

Joan’s styling was much more relaxed in the first year of Elementary. As his sober companion, her relationship with Sherlock was initially a professional commitment. She was not yet a detective and she was very much in the background of the investigation scenes. “Her clothing was very casual because that’s what the job called for,” Hofherr says. As Joan got more versed in the crime-solving world, her role shifted from sober companion to Sherlock’s protégée. By the second season, her costuming moved toward a slightly more sophisticated and buttoned-up approach. “As cheesy as it might sound, you need to put on a little more armor when dealing with the NYPD and all these criminals,” says Hofherr.

Joan’s wardrobe isn’t an either/or between suits and dresses, or even casual and business attire. She didn’t become a detective and suddenly stop wearing comfortable clothing. The suits reflect a change in Joan’s status and independence as an investigator, but dresses and sandals are still a vital style ingredient. During one Hofherr’s first conversations with Liu, they agreed Joan should “feel like a real New Yorker.” Expanding on this, Hofherr included staple items such as blazers or sandals, which most women have in their closets to dress an outfit up or down. “It was really nice to be able to incorporate them into a professional world for Joan,” she says.

Discovering the true cost of a TV character’s wardrobe is an eye-opening experience. Joan’s closet is definitely packed with high-end items — Hofherr’s go-to favored designers for Joan include Victoria Beckham, Saint Laurent, Isabel Marant, and Stella McCartney, with Rag & Bone as her signature bootee choice — but to ensure her clothing reflected that New Yorker aspect, Hofherr also shopped at Zara and H&M. “It was really important to do a mix,” she says. “I think that’s pretty much how everyone shops. I don’t think it’s realistic to only shop at high-end stores.”

Noticeable costume repeats tend to be outerwear, but Hofherr also uses staple investment pieces such as high-waisted black pencil Victoria Beckham pants. (Dressing them with an inexpensive top, she adds, is “a great way to get a lot of outfits out of a really expensive pair of pants.”) There is an aspirational element to Joan’s garments, but the high-low mixing reflects how a lot of people shop. Hofherr also notes with a laugh that “pretty much everything Lucy wore from Zara, I also own. I was like, Oh, I can afford that.”

The one item that has appeared in all seven seasons? Joan’s red men’s Elder Statesman “house sweater.” Most people have a cozy garment that they only wear in the comfort of their own home, Hofherr explains, and Joan is no different. Sherlock and Joan’s brownstone home doubles as their office, but she wouldn’t be wearing suits at all hours of the day and night while solving a case. As Liu has worn this sweater so many times on the show, Hofherr says that not only has it molded to her body but it also has the pulls of a well-loved garment. It is also a color Joan doesn’t typically wear, which visually makes it a “nice change.”

Joan doesn’t eschew color, but a black-and-white motif runs through the first season to the last. Regardless of whether it is a suit, skirt, or a more casual outfit, sticking with the same color tone allows for experimentation with pattern. In the above outfit from season four’s “The Games Underfoot,” she wears a Saint Laurent polka-dotted tie with a checkered J.O.A. skirt and polka-dotted Ji Oh blouse. Sometimes the costume choice reflects Joan’s career, but on occasions like this one, it shows that Joan has a “fashionable side” too. “She can throw these things together and look really cute,” Hofherr says.

Two big style turning points emphasize Joan’s drive for equal footing with Sherlock as a detective. First came the ties, introduced at the end of season three. Suits followed, making their initial sartorial stamp in season five. The message is clear: Long gone are the days when Joan was Sherlock’s student. As with a lot of Joan’s costuming, she doesn’t stick to one specific suit-and-tie combo. In fact, the Marc Jacobs shirt above (which Hofherr got from one of her go-to sites, Shopbop) is a bit of an optical illusion, as it doesn’t even include a tie. Vests were thrown into the mix after Hofherr made the decision to stick with suits. It is also a nod to her relationship with Sherlock: Up to this point, Hofherr points out, vests have been Sherlock’s thing, so this costume mirroring is “a little nod to her respecting him so much.”

“I went to all ends of the Earth!” Hofherr laughs when talking about the many ties Joan has worn on Elementary. Men’s offerings were out of the question for someone of Liu’s stature, as they are just too wide and long. She snapped up everything Saint Laurent and Gucci had on offer, but she also shopped at uniform companies, bought a few kids’ ties, and even made them in-house. Maybe a Joan Watson tie line should be next? “If all these designers are going to sell women’s suits, I would love for them to start making women’s ties,” Hofherr suggests.

Another later costume addition was the Victorian-style Isabel Marant blouse. In part, this outfit was a hat tip to the original Holmes and Watson, but it also added another variation on the suit theme. One of the biggest challenges when doing a show with a full 20-plus-episode order is obtaining enough clothing, particularly for a fashion-forward character like Joan. Hofherr says that she needs 50 outfits a month — on average, Joan has five changes per episode — and costuming was made trickier because designers don’t typically replenish their collections between seasons. “We end up making a lot of clothes based on designs we love and change a few things because I can’t find 20 Victorian-style blouses or 20 men’s-style blouses,” Hofherr laments. “I can find five, but then that’s it for four months.”

Fashion seasons are not the only Elementary costume challenge, as shooting outside in New York City from July to May means having to find clothing that fits all weather cycles. (The 13-episode final season was a bit easier, though, because they only shot until December.) Sherlock sticks to the same styles — “This guy would buy 20 of the same shirts, the same sport coat, and the same pants,” Hofherr says — and he has also worn the same Tom Ford winter peacoat for seven years. On the flip side, Joan has many changes, but she isn’t going to have a different coat for each outfit, as that is neither practical or realistic for either the character or the designer. Hofherr’s preference was to have between five and ten on hand: “If we got the coats fitted and ready to go we could just recycle them episode after episode.” Outerwear is something that is repeated across various seasons — including the Alice + Olivia coat above — but accessories like hats, gloves, and scarves are switched out to keep things fresh.

Sometimes the weather also dictates the type of hat required: “I originally got that hat because we were shooting outside one day in the rain and they didn’t want to have umbrellas,” Hofherr says. The wider brim of this Barneys-brand men’s hat has since been worn on a number of occasions, as has the tie-waist Marissa Webb windowpane check coat (which will reappear in the final season).

Of course, the story also dictates what Hofherr chooses for Joan. At the end of season six, creator Rob Doherty didn’t know if they were going to get renewed, so they shot two different endings. This particular Diane von Furstenberg dress fit both the ending we saw and the alternative they filmed — though Hofherr couldn’t provide any other details without spoiling the end of season seven as well. “I wanted it to be timeless, as I didn’t know if it was the last time we were ever going to see Joan Watson,” she says. “It was a little bit of an ode to all the Joans we have seen throughout the seasons. I felt a suit would have been a different look for that final scene.” No surprise, then, that it is also one of Hofherr’s costume highlights.

Hofherr couldn’t pick a single favorite outfit, but this one she considers to be the most significant. At the end of season three, Sherlock has almost killed a man and relapsed, but Joan’s loyalty doesn’t waver. “This is where we start to see the Joan that we will forever know,” says Hofherr. “And I think this is the best version of Joan too.” The pink skirt is by Roland Mouret and the shirt is Uniqlo, which is another high-low outfit mix. It also happens to be the first time Joan wears a tie, which is a huge style turning point.

Hofherr also spoke in depth about working with Liu, not only as an actress but in her role as a director. (She has stepped behind the camera six times on Elementary.) Referring to Liu as “one of the most inspirational women I’ve had in my life” — she also did the costume design on the Liu-starring Netflix rom-com Set It Up — she says Liu is “willing to take risks, but she knows exactly when to take them.”

Which brings us back to the blonde mystery. Hofherr had already FaceTimed with Liu sporting her new hair color, but the styling was a task of its own. “She walked in for her first fitting of the final season and I didn’t recognize her,” said Hofherr laughing. They did plan fewer outfits than previous seasons’ fittings, she adds, “because we were figuring out what works with the blonde hair and what doesn’t.” Don’t worry: There are still plenty of outfits to come, particularly in the last two episodes. (Hofherr teased that Joan will have ten-plus changes.)

The signature black-and-white motif remains, including these fabulous Stella McCartney palazzo pants. “I always know it’s a really good outfit when all the crew members ask me what it is,” Hofherr says. That is the exact reaction Liu got when she stepped on set in this particular costume.

#joan watson #lucy liu #rebecca hofherr #elementary #elementasquee #behind the scenes #who dresses you girl #i think what you do is amazing #read more

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eeveemasters · 4 years

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hey, all you lovely people! full disclosure i talk a lot and i have thought about this character thoroughly when you look under that read more... oh boy... just a heads up. anywho... guess i’m the last here i see, well, that’s typical. I’m late to literally everything, although this time I do have a good excuse. i’d tell you what it is but you don’t really wanna read about me gettin’ it in all weekend and drew is my bro -like literally. we share blood. we came outta the same womb. 26 hours of labor. 19 minutes apart. our poor mother- so he def doesn’t wanna read about it and that is a swill of information about me before ya even know my name which says a lot, doesn’t it? inst-y-ways, I’m maddie and I’m Jewish, you’ll figure out why i’m putting that out there now. also hello again. i hope y’all are ready to get this party started, cause this is where it’s at! look below & hit that read more and I will tell you all about my baby girl, Eevee.

TW: DEATH, DEPRESSION, STALKER, MURDER, KIDNAPPING

★ ━ ( candice patton, cis-female, she/her ) ━ ★ just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me. The person you’re lookin’ for is EVELYN LUCIA MASTERS. also known as EEVEE. Last I heard she was born on APRIL 7TH, 1988 in SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS, but she’s been livin’ in RICHMOND, for about EIGHT MONTHS. Word around the districts is, this doll, EEVEE can be VENGEFUL, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, & A KNOW-IT-ALL, but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s RESILIENT, CHARISMATIC, & ENERGETIC. I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though. the last thing ya need to know is that she works as an A-LIST ACTRESS & CO-OWNER OF EXCALIBUR COMICS. I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own. ━ ( ooc: maddie, pst, 28, she/her )

Evelyn Lucia Masters.

the irony of her name is that it means “wished for child”

she was definitely not.

hence why she goes by...

Eevee.

Yes, like the Pokemon.

No, it’s not a stage name or a gimmick.

She legally changed her name.

It’s on her credit card. ( so are kittens! )

Born in San Antonio Texas.

Jewish, Bisexual & Very Proud.

Collette Rivers

Her mother.

One of the first and few Black, Soap Opera stars.

Had a wildly popular sitcom for a hot minute.

Career was on fire in the 80′s & 90′s.

Transitioned to clothing designer and eventually a reality tv real housewife when she couldn’t get jobs anymore.

Joseph Masters.

Her Father.

a former actor

was very well known for CSI.

was on broadway.

became a sought after director.

it’s a whole family in the biz, so of course...

@ two years of age, Eevee became an Actress™

baby diaper commercials with her mom.

then singing lessons.

then dance lessons.

then pageants.

more commercials.

a bit of child modeling.

more commercials.

reoccurring kid on sesame street.

then a reoccurring (but not staring) role on Gullah Gullah Island.

1998. She’s 10.

lands a role on Broadway opposite Leon Thomas III as Nala in The Lion King.

this is the jumping-off point of her career. where it really shot off

but ignoring that for a minute...

Eevee has 5 other siblings.

4 of them are alive.

when Eevee was 15 she’d just gotten season 1st ( and eventually only ) season of her Disney show renewed and she had a stalker. on her 16th birthday, the stalker snuck into her sweet 16, cornered her when she and her older, brother Elias were alone, stabbed Elias, and kidnapped Eevee. Elias was rushed to the hospital when they found him but died shortly after. They found Eevee, recovered her from the stalker unharmed, but when she asked about Elias... shortly after Eevee sunk deeper into her depression, and also suffered from survivors’ guilt and eventually had to stay in a mental hospital and was released a year later, a few days after her 17th birthday. being in the real world was hard for her and in a few weeks time, became legally emancipated from her parents because her father had taken control of monitoring her finances, her decisions, and became too controlling of her schedule and time out of his concern for her and her mother acted like none of it happened and expected Eevee to pick up where she left off and to get more jobs and keep working. It was an environment detrimental to her health and sanity so she had to get out of that and got her own place and moved away from her parents and unfortunately, her twin sister and younger brother.

Took a break from acting to finish high school.

had to have private tutors

excelled at the school aspect of her life.

had very few friends but she did have a girlfriend.

eventually, Eevee broke up with her

to seize her 5 minutes of fame she outted Eevee as a lesbian to TMZ.

It didn’t take long for Eevee to speak out.

At 17, in 2005, Eevee came out publically as Bisexual.

as a Black 17-year-old girl she was proud of herself.

but it did not go well for her in the media or in magazines.

didn’t help what little career she had left.

but she also kinda didn’t care

Became known for outspoken activism for LGBTQ+ youth.

Started her own charity and outreach program to finance and help struggling youth in the LGBTQ+ community by providing them with shelter, food, and treatment for health issues both mental and physical.

went to college...

Northwestern State University.

joined the Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority

double-majored in theater and business

got married to one of her best friends at one point to help him out with his financial situation.

graduated with degrees.

and real friends in and out of her sorority.

WORKED HER ASS OFF TO GET HER CAREER BACK ON TRACK.

it took a lot of hard work.

a lot of mediocre jobs.

a lot of auditions.

a lot of shmoozing & playing the long game.

she pulled every single string

cashed every single favor

ate a lot of shit.

including going to her mother whom she hadn’t spoken to in six years.

EVENTUALLY ROSE BACK TO THE A-LIST WITH A VENGENCE.

Several Independent Films.

Supporting roles in TV shows.

Supporting roles in a few movies.

Starring roles in a number of pilots that never got greenlit.

Starring roles in 2 tv shows.

one was canceled the first season.

the other had THREE SEASONS.

won an Emmy

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series

landed a few ad campaigns

Eevee went back to Broadway a few times over the years.

Bring It On: The Musical

played Danielle

won a tony

Best Featured Actress in a Musical.

Newsies: The Musical

played Katherine.

dream come true.

Hadestown

played Eurydice.

nominated for a Tony.

The Lion King

played adult Nala.

life coming full circle.

Currently stars in her own Netflix show.

season 2 just finished filming which is why she has moved to Portland.

PERSONALITY:

very much a complete dork. loves video games, loves comic books, has a lot of memorabilia all through her house, it’s practically a dork museum, always telling puns. always joking. always been an adorable ray of sunshine. she really likes to be a light and enforce positivity for her friends and others.

talks far too much for her own good especially when she’s nervous.

very kind, generous, and loving, always willing to help a friend.

always willing to cook for someone as a way to comfort them. She’s a well-versed home chef and an excellent baker.

she’s in-between the vodka aunt and the mom friend. she’s the first to suggest doing shots and getting fucked up, but she’ll also make sure everyone’s okay and be responsible.

She’s that friend who if you fuck with one of her friends in any way she will go into protective mamma bear mode and straight-up end that person for you. if you need someone to back you up in a fight, literally, and have your back she is your girl.

she isn’t great at flirting or really being around anyone she finds attractive, she turns into a rambling, nonstop talking, pile of adorable.

up until the end of December last year, she was a virgin. She’s only ever slept with one person so she’s not really the sleep around kind of girl but respects those who do, you do you boo, but also please don’t mistake her for a relationship type girl either. she’s neither. she’s great at fooling around and hookups that usually stop before they get to the sex part. she’s actually just very awkward when it comes to intimacy and feelings and getting close to people in that way. It fucks with her anxiety so she just needs someone who can get her out of her head and that is very hard to find for her.

She’s a feminist and believes women should be there to support each other, but also is aware that feminism isn’t always equal and some women don’t include her as a woman to support because she is a woman of color and because she’s Black and will call someone out on their white feminist or anti-black bullshit.

she’s kind but is in no way a pushover. she’s very opinionated and steadfast and isn’t afraid to reason with someone and argue with them and stand up for herself.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS:

Friends: people who can put up with her non-stop chatter and find it endearing.

Fake Friends: people who are using her for fame, recognition and what her name can do for them.

Crushes: could be one-sided, could be both-sided, let’s talk about it.

Boxing Friendship: sparing partners, or someone who sees her at the boxing gym in her workout outfits that include but is not limited to color-coordinated custom gloves, that match both her outfit, her shoes, her gym bag and the giant cheerleading bow on the top of her high ponytail, but has never actually stuck around to see her box so don’t believe she can throw an actual punch because they can’t take that seriously, because she’s just a pretty little celebrity what can she actually do, but then one day end up in an argument with her and challenge her to a sparring match and to their surprise kicks their ass and they become sparring partners. I don’t know, clearly I haven’t given that plot much thought.

Step-family member: Eevee doesn’t have a relationship with her mom, but she is aware the woman got married to another woman who has kids when Eevee was 19 or so. She’s never met any of them. Never spoken to any of them. Never been invited to family functions. Knows full well they exist and they know full well she exists and they have actually hung out with other members of her family, just not her. So that sounds like awkward and traumatic fun for all involved right?? Bring the angst.

Fellow Actors: They could be real friends, could be fake friends, could have worked together, could just know of each other, could be a publicity friendship, dude, I don’t know.

Fans / Haters: like her work or don’t like her work???????????? I don’t know I’m just throwing stuff out there at this point.

I don’t know we’ll figure something out, I AM PUMPED AND EXCITED!!

#pb:intro #pb:ooc #death tw #depression tw #murder tw #stalker tw #kidnapping tw

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pixs-pinings · 4 years

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Me? Interested in Persona 5? No wayyy...

Warning for long post!

I had this written differently before I accidentally closed this tab, but I recovered the infodump well!

So... Yeah, Ribbon! My Persona 5 SI, my Phantom Thief SI. Still want to work on a possible real name- I wanted to go with a continuation of the plot threads I thought of with my P4 si, but... nah. Two separate SIs. Even if P5 si was also from the real world, I want them to be different for. Reasons.

She would awaken in the same place as Makoto- Kaneshiro's palace. I want to slip her in somewhere, and I feel like that case would feel the most... Natural? After futaba, a lot of shit picks up, and, as seen with Haru, can be a bit awkward. (And... Yes. I'm going to try to make that arc...... Not Suck? Maybe keep Morgana self loathing but...)

As for her awakening itself... She and Makoto have similar reasons! Both of them were previously known as prim and proper students, but then awaken to a sense of Justice, and are able to go all out. After looking a bit into myself, I was like "wow Makoto really is sorta like how I would awaken maybe" because like... I want to fight against injustice and hatred in society, but I'm scared because of the law- and, like Makoto, in p5, I could snap past that. Fuck the law, I want to stop people from being HURT by society's ineptitude. Haha...

Also, a reason for the involvement in the first place- Kaneshiro's reach is... far. Its very possible that people in Kosei were affected- and, in fact, judging by Yusuke being able to gather information, they were. So... Say that one of Ribbon's friends were being used... selling her body, perhaps... Hmmm...

Yes, both Makoto and my p5 SI- can I call her just Ribbon for now?- are third year students at their school. Yes, for Ribbon's backstory, I think I want her to be a Kosei student! Maybe there because of an art scholarship- writing??- or maybe a financial education scholarship, or maybe just that whoever her guardians are, biological or not, they sent her to that school with the money they had. But... Third year. I am 19 irl- and she would be 18 during the majority of the story, turning 19 in that february because surprise I'm a February baby.

Oh, yes, and her costume! She's a magical girl. Supposed to be based off of one- I gave her ribbons and feathers and a poofy dress and high boots with thick soles and gloves... Also, her mask is simple, but... I had the base form of a butterfly, and added on some mask details and also feathers. The ribbons on the lower part of her dress are more noticeable, though. Hence, her name of Ribbon. Unless y'all can think of any better...

As for WHY magical girls? Well, she thought magical girls were cool! Yes, this reflects on me! Ribbon watched magical girl shows ever since she was a young child, and always got this idea of fighting off evil by using bright magic! And punches. And kicks. When Ribbon grew older, while she never grew out of it, she tried to keep it to the back of her mind. She always still kept an eye on one of the magical girl shows- hmm... Beauty Cure? Beaucure? (Yes. Based on Precure.) And it was pulled back to the front with her awakening, because that's always the type of stuff she liked believing in- a magical force of good fighting against forces of evil... OUTSIDE OF THE NORMAL FIGHT AGAINST EVIL SOCIETY TRIES TO DO... Yeah. Mhm. Doesn't that seem familiar.

Oh, yes, I'm going to call the SI by the name of Ribbon- still unsure of if I should use Pix or if I should make up a japanese name that fits a bit closer to my real one, haha.

Her role of the team is... Well, sorta like a magical girl? She has light attacks, which does include the instant kill ones later (points @ magical girls and the series having magical attacks be the magical girl's finishing move), but she also can serve another role... Providing Buffs and giving Debuffs. I mean, magical girl power ups over the season is like a buff... And their attacks debuff the enemy... I would be tempted to also give her some healing things... Maybe later. After all, there are buff moves that are like "gain all three buffs at once!" And she'll get those! So maybe she can also be the status healer...? Dunno. Haven't really watched battle gameplay of p5- even if it's fancy, its... Boring to watch. Oops. Battle dynamics...

As for who her Persona is... I haven't thought of it. I haven't even looked into it either. I was thinking... Her first Persona would be probably an ancient magical girl? Pfft. Funny to say it like that. Maybe a fictional magical girl who was definitely outside the bounds of rules. Maybe villain, maybe hero. Her second persona would... be a goddess. Not the goddess of Magic, since. (stares at Ann.) But. A goddess of something important. Light? Hmm.

Her weapon is... A staff. Kinda a stick, but also it IS something to hurt with. Swing it around, smack someone in the side or head... Use it to adjust your position... Twirling it around... A magical girl doesn't use conventional weapons.

Oh, yeah! Here's where I closed out of the tab by accident. I went to go look at something and my phone pulled a trick on me... Anyway, moving on...

Futaba Sakura is 4'11. Ribbon is 5'. Short squad! Ribbon is irritated about getting teased for it, but is indeed 18- during the story, anyway- and just... Hasn't. Grown. Makoto is 5 inches taller. Interesting.

Ribbon's (outside of battle) role is... well, data gathering, and plan pulling. Makoto thinks of the plans, and can, indeed, push them out to the team... But for group planning sessions, Ribbon is the one listening to everyone's suggestions, and then addressing them... and giving them to the leader to mull over, as well. Make sure everyone is heard.

Oh, idea there... Ribbon also, like me, used to be a theater kid! It helped her grow more used to people around her, more used to speaking, and also technical details on things. Even if she isn't all outgoing, she still shows influences of it with analogies she makes sometimes.

(Spoilers for P5... Brief Warning. Skip to next parantheses for past that spoiler gone.)

During the Phantom Thieves' plans to decieve Akechi into believing he is totally fooling them, Ribbon could easily be very important with that acting experience. While coming up with the plan, Ribbon will definitely state theater terms, backstage, actors, scene changes... And she will definitely help the others get more into character. Staring at you, Ann... For a more believable lie... pull forth a truth similar to this situation and keep that tucked next to your heart... say your lines... and then, when that's over, let it go.

(Spoilers over! Yayyy)

So. Have you guessed who i want to f/o yet? If the answer is yes, congrats, you ain't blind to subtext!

Ribbon's costume is definitely on the lighter side! And... Yes, its definitely pink based. Solid pink ribbons... Light, soft pink dress... A mainly pink mask... I do think the feathers are another color, with those little x marker things that most of the feathers belonging to sharing a similar color, though maybe a different shade. I am... Not good with costume design, though. The accents on her mask would be similar colors to it...

Her hair is black. Darker than Makoto's, yes. She is light skinned, with barely a tan forming on her. Her mask actually covers up her obvious freckles on her face! Her arms, however, still have their freckles showing. (Not in the picture, because i forget about my arm freckles a lot...) (Also not in the picture is the frills on her dress but shhhh)

As for her Confidant? Uh... Hmm... To get to know her... Oh! She can show you her art and writing, sort of brush off her achievements with it because haha not as good as Yusuke Kitagawa's more official art... And her confidant would be helping her tap more into her confident side, whether it be for her own personal projects, or even for her just in society in general! While not as bad as Futaba, she still doesn't like approaching other people... And when that happens, and maybe culminates in her verbally cussing at someone who's been pressing her down for a while now and getting them to lay off her thanks to that newfound confidence. Not a Mementos Target, though she does bring that up but brushes it off as 'just a petty bully thing', but something she deals with herself!

.... Oh, Arcana... Uh. I think... you know how the Jester arcana was like... Another version of the Fool? Wait, the Thoth deck doesn't have an alt Priestess...? Fuck. Uh. Congrats, Akira! You get SUPER DUPER PRIESTESS BONUS. ... Please help

For her Confidant Ability.... Probably something to do with her Magical Girl influnces? The first idea I thought of was like... being able to be a temporary "safe" zone- while in the palace, she could... extend her magical girl light out and create a Barrier that prevents the shadows from noticing her. It will always stay a temporary ability, of course, since otherwise would pribably negate difficulty? But the period would become longer as her confidant goes up. The period of time would be extremly cut down during the times of actually stealing a treasure- after all, the palace ruler is EXPECTING the phantom thieves. No amount of magical girl protecting light would hide that expectation... Or. Something like that.

Also, her last skill. Instead of being like... Making the ability of protecting/anti detecting light last practically forever, its a SUPER STRONG BATTLE ABILITY. What is it? Well... uh... Still have to decide. My current idea has to do with a magical girl blast. Like, activate her light ability right as you get into a battle, and that actually does something- fires a big blast as the battle starts and inflicts damage on the enemy... Hmm. That, or she gets a special version of the all out attack that always kills? Has to be her leading the all out attack, though. What do y'all think...?

Oh, speaking of all out attacks! Hers (or her normal one if I go with the second idea in the above paragraph) would have her landing, spinning around, and doing a sharp "v" pose with her fingers, standing tall and with a grin. Think... Uh... Sailor Moon? I looked up some images and a few I found, with the peace sign arm outstretched, fit that mental image. The other hand would be on her hip, and, of course, she would be winking. Ah, girl vibes.

Yes. I am aware that could be similar to Ann. When i thought of it, i was like "hmmm" but then was like "I do that! and also there's a different between a lean and a wink with the peace sign to your chin rather than a stand/slight slouch and a wink and a peace sign held upward rather than close to the body"

Also, her little line in the background would be "light has prevailed!" In like... Bubbly letters? And it looks like light is shining from behind the letters.

Sure, Ribbon would have a romance route with Akira... but I don't consider that canon. It would make sense that he could POSSIBLY fit my type? But. Nah. Not SUPER attached. Pal at most. Speaking from outside here... In game, with the friendship forming? Maybe so. Anyway, not canon.

Oh my god i just realized Queen and Ribbon have like... Opposite sorta aesthetics. Dark Biker to Light Mage.

Anything else I can think of... Oh, a spoilerly thing.

(I don't believe I can think of anything else to say, so for those who want to be unspoiled on certain things in p5, end of post is the next paranthesis. For others...)

For her reaction to the announcement of Akira's "suicide", it would be something like... Well... A hand to her mouth, and a furrow to her brow... but she doesn't sound like she is going to cry. Instead, she goes, "Ah...", like... Realizing. Like a "hmmm" tone instead of one trying to hold back tears. And then like... Ryuji's scene is after that. And those of you who have seen the scene know what the scene is. So like, if the player was confused by Ribbon, Ryuji smacks them with a direct confirmation.

(And... That's it! Sorry for the long post, I am both unsure of if the read more code trick works on mobile anymore and also am unsure of, if it does work, which version of the trick is the correct one. Because i remember two different versions. Fuck.)

#long post #ribbon the phantom magical thief girl #hahahahaha #self insert #whoops.#also the more i think about it the more i think it may not be obvious. so... guess!

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cheddar-the-dog · 4 years

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b99 the podcast episode 5:

ain‘t no heist like a halloween heist

@jake-and-ames and I have summarized what we think are the highlights of the fifth episode of the brooklyn nine-nine podcast. maybe those of you who can’t listen to the podcast for whatever reason can profit from it a bit

under the cut as usual

[[MORE]]

Part 1 with Melissa Fumero, David Phillips, Cortney Carrillo

they expected the heist episode to be a one-off thing but the reception was so good they decided to do more of these episodes

inspiration were Halloween episodes of different shows

eventually it was a given that there‘ll be a heist episode

there is a video of Mel geeking out because she‘s on a harness going through the ceiling in S1 like in Mission Impossible

there’s generally a lot of MI elements

the Halloween episodes are especially long shoots

shooting the Handmaiden scene in S5 took so long that Mel started texting with a friend and they did astrology charts of people and analyzed them together

initially in the 3rd halloween heist the woman opening the door on the 16th floor was supposed to be Kylie but the writers didnt feel it was right so they changed it

they didnt plan Terry hating heists to use that as a tactic later on but they realized in S5 that they could use it in S6

roman numerals are used for many things in the writer‘s room but they only stuck for the heist episodes

for one of the heists (sorry I didn’t catch which one) they tried emulating the Ocean‘s 11 score

when Holt explains the whole flutist thing there is a flute playing in the background

there’s a “Babysitter’s Club” theme when Amy and Rosa team up and there’s a few instances when Mel and Steph tried sneaking in the theme song

HalloVeen: the cold open is Mel‘s favorite

‘you’re being so mean do it harder’ was an alt-line and thats how that bit became a thing

the Jake/Amy dynamic in HalloVeen is a throwback to early Jake/Amy dynamics

Andy ripping Andre’s shirt open and vice versa was done in one take

where does Bill come from? the writers felt like they wrote themselves into a hole with Bill because they worried it wouldnt be funny or they wouldnt find an actor who could make it work

but they saw the actor for Bill walk into the audition room and they knew it would work with him, and he can imitate Joe very well

there were theories about next heist winners: Kevin or Cheddar

SPOILER: Scully‘s medical probems will be explored a bit more in S7

there weren’t a lot of people in the room when the proposal was filmed but a lot of production people came down before the filming, including Dan Goor - it made Mel realize that it‘s a meaningful moment and she says she wont forget how she felt

Andy came up with the “I love how you pretend to love Die Hard” line

they mention Andy‘s heart eyes and they talk about them and that one panel, when a girl in the audience asked him to look at her like that and she burst into tears immediately after

everyone loves how in the wedding what made Jake cry is Amy saying “your butt is the bomb“ and how he responded with “you’re my dream girl”

“Kevin and Holt should get their vows renewed” - MEJ

Part 2 with Alexis Jacks, Chris Call, Walter Eckert

property master is in charge of everything an actor touches and interacts with (watches, phones, computers, glasses, jewelry etc) not interior design in itself though

art director: overlooks the look of the show (sets, costumes, paint, architecture, design) makes sure it all gets done

set dressing and constructing: build sets and dresses it (sofas, tables, carpet etc)

costume department: 10 people (shoppers, continuity supervisors, fittings and dressers)

the characters have closets so the costumes can be reworn and give the characters and the show a “normal people” vibe

stuff gets changed mid-week and in the beginning people had to change a lot of things or scrap everything they compiled so far and start over so now they make drafts first because they expect changes mid-week before they start

if there’s bigger things that are needed the departments get a heads-up, also for calculations and adjustments

the B99-seamstress (they call her Monina so I’m assuming it’s Monina Arellano) is very low-key but a fast and impeccable worker and “a master” at what she does. she came to B99 after Parks ended

The Bullpen is a standing set (meaning it’s there the full year)

Shaw’s bar is a stage over but it gets taken down and sent away each season because they use that stage for different sets

The builders can construct and deconstruct stages in less than a day

a lot of props are get ordered online but many things are built from scratch

The cake in the cake shop was a prototype constructed of the Die Hard DVD Boxset (it comes in a Nakatomi tower) covered in fondant and a figurine scaling down on a string of licorice

the actual cake was never fully constructed, they built the shell of the broken tower in pieces, and laid them on the floor and then stuffed them with real cake

Gina’s statue was made of hard density foam and then spray painted

Cinco de Mayo Terry was spray painted and the clothing was color matched

Cummerbund: they created 2 belts with different inscriptions for HalloVeen

The belt in 6 was remade because they couldn’t find the original anymore

Terry wears suspenders because they wanted him to have a retro detective look and no jackets to show off his physique

Jake’s jeans are more often than not Andy’s own jeans

Holt wears either his uniform or navy suits to echo his work uniform

Rosa can run in her heeled boots but the show is not always accurate to actual work life and a real life detective would most likely not wear heeled boots to work

“Boyle is a Boyle” with tones of beige, butter and brown. the whole family wears it, even Nikolaj

Amy wore pant suits and now her uniform which is, like in reality, ill-fitting and when she’s out of work, Costumes try to put her in very casual clothing

the utility belts are super heavy so now it’s just foam and rubber. and there are belt keepers that snap the utility belt to the belt of your pants because otherwise you would have to strap it so tight that you cant move or it would pull all your clothing down with it (it carries a gun magazine, a baton, handcuffs, belt keepers, pepper spray, the Walkie-Talkie [case], a gloves pouch, taser etc)

the NYPD tasers are yellow but props went with black ones

props handle all real and fake weapons as long as they’re not automatic ones. then they’d have to bring in an Armor, a certified fire-arms specialist

they never used a real gun so far but air soft guns are used as the guns while shooting and gun shots are added in post

Props is also responsible for animals

there was a time when Props could go to a pet store and rent a hamster, shoot with it and bring it back now there’s an animal trainer for any animal you can think of

animal trainers have headshots of their animals as well and someone has to look at them and choose which animals they want to cast

#b99 #b99 the podcast #b99 podcast #brooklyn 99 podcast #brooklyn 99 the podcast #brooklyn nine nine the podcast #brooklyn nine nine podcast #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

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tokupedia · 5 years

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Halloween 2019 costume ideas: Power Rangers pt. 2

Jason Bischoff’s Beast Morpher Rangers

Jason Bischoff was the former global marketing guy for Hasbro and is an artist.

He is a genuine fan of tokusatsu (mentioned Kamen Rider on his Twitter and his love of Ex-Aid and several Heisei Rider shows) and it shows. In his final months with Hasbro, he and a buddy of his named Micheal O’ Hare came up with art for concepts of new Rangers not original to the Go-Busters source material.

The first is a Green Ranger based on the Frog Buddyroid from the Go-Busters Summer Film, “what if she had a Ranger companion”? The next is a gray Polar Bear Ranger and an Orange female scorpion Ranger based on Jason’s viewings of Kyuranger and Sasori Orange.

A Bat Ranger based on Blaze, a “what if the bad guy reformed and got a new suit” kind of thing. (though given its Batman’s 80th, you could also use it as an excuse to go around saying in a gravely voice “I’m Bat-Ranger!”)

Lastly, a Magenta Sea Urchin Ranger and Hammerhead Beast Bot for you and a buddy to dress up as.

X-Men/Power Rangers Amalgam

A while ago at the Edmonton Expo in Alberta, Canada, Jason David Frank discovered a cosplay that had to be seen to be believed. A Canadian fan mixed the White Ranger with Wolverine. Mr. JDF then posted this to instagram

Now, this isn’t the first time that X-Men and Power Rangers have crossed paths as both shared the Fox Kids block on Saturday Mornings in the 1990s and a SDCC gatefold variant cover paid tribute to X-Men #1. Not to mention MMPR’s comic rights were once with Marvel and the whole Marvel/Super Sentai connection. The idea of X-Men Rangers is an interesting one, why not complete it?

Cyclops Red, Jubilee Yellow, Beast Blue, Pink Phoenix (if considering season 2 MMPR), Gambit Black and Rouge Green. As an alternative to Wolvie, Storm can be the White Ranger or added as the 7th Ranger team member of any color you choose. Add a Professor Z (a tube head in a hover wheelchair or a blue bald guy) and you have the complete set! Or go wild and make a Brotherhood of Mutants version of a Ranger Team!

Lord “Zackkon”

Submitted for your approval, one Zachary Taylor, a virtuous teen who was offered a deal with the devil to be something greater, but refused. What if the youth, resentful of the choice of his team’s leadership, accepted the path that Rita Repulsa offered?

I envision a Black Ranger who fuses his power first with the Dragon Coin, but then with powers of Green and Black Rangers after him. The core idea is to combine the Mastodon motif with a Dragon in a way that aesthetically looks good.

Remi, the Orange Solar Ranger

(Ari’s Legacy Wars Bio confirms it!)

Last year, I pitched to the fandom to option dressing up as newest kid on the block, Ari aka the (Purple) Solar Ranger. This year, I’m submitting her life partner and love Remi who became the most recent addition to the Solar Rangers and another of a growing number of representatives of LGBTQ+ heroes. For those looking to cosplay with the person they love or for a fun cosmic night of Halloween, here is a Ranger couple that we hope to see more of in the future.

A Morphing Master

The Morphing Masters are the mysterious all powerful beings who protected the Morphin Grid and dedicated their lives to studying it. The Boom! Studios comics dedicated some time to explaining them a bit more in Beyond the Grid, including a new look.

Why be a mere three dimensional linear being on All Hallow’s Eve or at a con when you can wear a look that says “I am a supreme being beyond your trivialities and I look fabulous doing it.”

Warbunny

Aka my new favorite Power Rangers monster. Warbunny is a ‘roided up anthropomorphic rabbit whom, if his Conan inspired garb hasn’t telegraphed, talks like a certain former Governator and wields a large Warhammer that fires energy blasts. Cosplayers who do Warcraft costumes and other fantasy cosplay might gravitate towards this one since it parodies Arnie and Conan.

The Soul Era MMPR Rangers

In the comics, we learn there was a ill fated team in 1969 which fought Psycho Green. Pitch: What if there were a MMPR Rangers team 5 years later in 1975, the year Gorenger was created? The era of disco and soul, big cars, afro hair kung fu movies and Watergate. The challenge I present is combining the Gorenger suits with the MMPR suits.

Disco collar capes, platform heel variants of the boots, flashy brighter neon colors with glitter and woodgrain on the weapons because products in the 1970s had woodgrain even if it didn’t make any aesthetic sense to do so. Civilian forms would be based on 1970s fashion, at least one Ranger should have a real or fake Burt Reynolds-sized mustache and/or afro for period accuracy.

Dark Super Megaforce Yellow

For Ranger fans who wanna let out their inner bad girl, I present another Dark Ranger redesign of a Power Ranger from Battle For the Grid. The Gokaiger suit decked out in black and pants and a gold trim “coat” is just so good, really makes the yellow pop and looks more “piratey” than the standard suit. As you can see you can opt for an all black undershirt and yellow gloves or vice versa.

A new standard Lord Drakkon created for evil Rangers is that unlike their heroic counterparts, all of them have blood red visors instead of the standard black tint. (This also recently extends to Sentai, but we’ll get to that later.)

Houou Ranger (Chun-Li ver.)

While Ryu got to play Power Ranger, the devs of Legacy Wars decided to let none of the other characters participate in the fun. Many fans who love and respect Chun-Li were naturally outraged that she got shafted and began speculating what kind of Blue Ranger she would be. There was artistic debate as to what motif she would have with most gravitating towards a tiger, a peacock or her totem of fighting style, the crane.

I on the other hand think if Ryu lifted a Dairanger’s name for his Ranger form, it only makes sense the developers would do the same for Chun Li and give her a Chinese Phoenix motif.

The common consensus all fans share is that such a form has parts of Miss Li’s costume as part of her Ranger outfit much like with Ryu Ranger with his boxing gloves, bandanna and black belt. Whatever you choose, you are sure to be a knockout!

Supersonic Green

The first Green gone bad chronologically in the comics, Trek was a bitter Xybiran who got sick of being benched while his team went on missions and soon that bitterness turned into hate as he empathically read the feelings of his teammates about him. He murdered his entire team and then pledged allegiance to Dark Specter to become Psycho Green.

The Fiveman team these Supersonic Rangers are based on never had a sixth ranger, since sixth Rangers were not really a thing until Zyuranger. This bring up one conundrum for this Ranger in terms of those wishing to design a full costume...what exactly is Trek’s helmet motif?

For those who have never seen Fiveman, the theme was about types of school education each Ranger was part of. Red was a science teacher, Blue was a physical education teacher, Black was a language teacher, Pink was a math teacher and Yellow was a music teacher.

I suppose a history book on the helmet for social studies would be appropriate as would be an apple or money symbols for home economics. It should be noted if one commits to making a helmet, the Fiveman/Supersonic Ranger helmet visors each have lines running through them to signify their numerical designation (Red has 1, Blue has 2 etc.) so Green would have six.

That’s all I’ve got!

Happy Halloween Ranger Nation!

#power rangers #halloween #costumes #cosplay #costume ideas #comics #video games

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blog-sliverofjade · 4 years

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Omega Protocol 27: Interrogation

Summary: In the mid-21st century, the elite decided to cement society’s strata into our DNA, creating a genetic caste system. One of the early Omegas is cryogenically frozen and forgotten. Revived nearly two centuries later, she has no idea what she has become and has to navigate a strange new world while surrounded by Alphas, whatever those are.

Leading the military arm of his people in exile on a dangerous planet is no easy feat for Captain Niklaus Reed. He has to build and secure a settlement against megafauna straight out of the Ice Age before families start arriving on the distant planet. When an Omega is found in an old research base, things become… complicated.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26

Word Count: 1592

Much love to my awesome beta @pandabearer

“Talk to me.” Emma looked up from where she was idly tracing invisible designs on the ridges of his abdomen. It was the first time the Alpha had solicited her thoughts on anything.

“About what?”

“What happened last night.” Pulling away from him, she curled in on herself. Or rather, she tried to. Niklaus let her withdraw slightly, but his half-embrace held firm when she would have turned away. “Nice try.”

“How did you know…?” That I tried to literally curl up and die? He merely looked at her. Right, the thing between them that she’d been studiously trying to ignore. “I thought that they’d threatened to string you up by your thumbs if you didn’t leave me alone?”

“I think it involved honey, rope, and those giant fire ants. Or was it the death wasps?” She giggled at the mental picture, which was no doubt his intent. “I couldn’t just sit there with my thumb up my ass while you destroyed yourself,” he admitted once the laughter subsided. “You’re not talking to anyone. I figure I’m already on your shit list, might as well make you talk.”

“You’re going to interrogate me? Kinky.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response.

She lay there stiffly. Bracing his free hand behind his head, he tilted his face, eyes half-lidded, a little more towards the faint light filtering in. One could have been fooled into thinking he was dozing if they couldn’t see him rubbing small circles against her back.

When she finally did speak, her voice was raspy due to a dry mouth and being quiet for so long, not because of any lump in her throat. “I didn’t fight.” The words were barely even a breath. He waited until it was apparent she wasn’t going to continue.

“What did you do?” Turning to shelter her with his body, he petted her hair. This was a softer man than the one she’d first met, yet neither was he treating her with kid gloves like nearly everyone else was.

“I threw Fluffybutt at his face and ran.” Nik chuckled and she joined him, although hers was partly a choked sob.

“I knew something was wrong when your damn chicken came back squawking her head off. For that alone, she’s earned a stay of execution.” For all that she’d threatened to fry the bird at the time, Emma had to agree.

“I should’ve fought back,” she murmured to the scar on his chest that had suddenly become fascinating.

“With what? A chicken and harsh words?”

“There were sticks.” She wasn’t being defensive, she was pointing out facts.

“He was twice your size and had a spear,” he said in the same flat manner he did when dressing down one of his people for doing something mildly stupid. It had very rarely been directed at her. “You did the smart thing. Chances are he’d have killed you where you stood for challenging him. Running was your best choice. He was still faster, but you didn’t just stand there, did you?”

“No.” God, she’d rather go through chemo again than have this conversation.

“And the head wound didn’t help, did it?” Worrying at her bottom lip, she shook her head. “What else do you think you could’ve done?”

“Don’t patronize me!” Her ire lent her the fortitude to meet his gaze.

“I’m not.” A low, hard statement. “I’m trying to break you out of this spin you’re in.” When she would have ducked her head again to hide her vulnerability, he gripped her chin and stared into her eyes. “You’re too focused on what you think you should have done when the truth is you chose the course that ensured the greatest chance of survival.” The steely commander was back, yet there was nothing cool or distant about him now; the fiery intensity that lay just beneath the surface wouldn’t permit that.

“I’m tired of feeling weak.” She shook her head and her hair fell across her eyes, reminding her that she always suffered from the most horrendous bedhead. Sitting up, she worked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get it looking less like a camel had chewed on it in her sleep. How does it manage to be both greasy and frizzy? “I’m tired of not having control over anything that happens to me. They took me from my home- my planet!- and changed me without my knowledge. then to freeze and forget about me. I’m still not sure how to feel about… my heat.” She had hated feeling that helpless and out of control. “Then that happened, and you did this!” A hand waved at the scar on her neck. “I don’t even remember the last time I could make a major decision for myself.” Her voice broke and trailed off. “I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

Reed felt like someone had cut him off at the knees and allowed a herd of moofalo to run over his body. His mate didn’t trust him, and he’d given her precious little reason to. She had scooted away from him to sit with her back against the wall. Already he missed the warm weight of her against him, leaving him cold, which was a rare sensation for him.

“From what I understand this is permanent.” There was no divorce for their kind. “What are my choices? Do I get any or are you going to keep dictating to me?” The hunch of her shoulders was a knife to his gut. “Makes me wonder what the point of living is if this could even be called a life.” He had taken bullets that hurt less than her speech.

“Don’t you dare give up now. You’ve survived too much for that.” It came out roughly, bordering on a growl, but she didn’t flinch. “Besides, you still have a chance to make me regret claiming you.”

“Spite as motivation to live?” A wry twist to her mouth.

“If it works.”

“You’re saying you don’t already regret this?”

“Not yet,” he smirked.

“Oh, you are going to regret saying that.” A small smile bloomed but faded before reaching its fullness. “What were those things?”

Blowing out a breath, he sat up to sit against the other wall, perpendicular to her.

“Not all of the original test subjects were as successful as you. The original batch of Alphas and Betas were feral, attacked the research team, and escaped.” They had also committed unspeakable acts in the process, but she didn’t need to know that when she had already had a glimpse of it. “Those are their descendants. We call them ferals or nomads because they cycle through different outposts depending on the season. Rooster started calling them nad’s, short for Nasty Ass Dickriders.” The term wasn’t one he’d normally use in front of an Omega, but the crude phrasing startled a chuckle out of her like he’d suspected it would.

“They’re like cavemen, like they devolved?”

“The going theory is that when they were tinkering with the genetic code, they went a little too far back in our evolutionary timeline. The next team thought to get around the intelligence issue by splicing in animal DNA to get the strength and stamina they were looking for,” he explained.

“Wait, you’re saying they killed the first team and then sent another?” Her eyebrows climbed towards her hairline.

“It was merely a ‘setback.’” His lip still curled at the memory of the classified reports he had been privy to as part of his training. While those back on Earth might not want their kind around, they still wanted to experiment with a colony on an exoplanet, just not with “proper humans.” That meant certain information had to be shared or else risk inevitable failure. “The second succeeded, despite another concerted attack from the ferals. They decided it was safe to return because at that point they could argue that we counted as an extra-terrestrial species and thus exempt from the ban on tinkering with human genetics.”

“That’s a twisted sort of logic that sadly makes sense.”

“No one told you?” They had agreed to keep the nads’ existence from her to avoid adding to her stress load, no one suspecting that she would wander beyond the protected core, but he’d assumed that someone would have told her after the incident. Part of him was glad that she had come to him, hoped that she trusted him enough to tell the truth.

“I think Barbie tried, but I really didn’t feel like talking.” She smoothed a pillow and fussed with its placement. “Where do we go from here, Nik?”

He knew what he wanted to do, which was keep her close where he could protect her. What he said was, “What do you want?”

Emma was silent for so long he wasn’t certain she would answer.

“I want to learn to defend myself.”

“We can start this afternoon.” The response didn’t even require thought, it was automatic. Like any Alpha, he wanted to be the one to protect his Omega, but he wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she would stay within a protected bubble anymore. “First, we get some food into you.”

She opened her mouth, most likely to argue, but the rumbling of her stomach interrupted. “Um, would you mind stepping out so I can get dressed?” Instead of pointing out that he’d already seen her in her birthday suit, he slipped out into the hallway and tried not to think of her wearing nothing but his mark.

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aspiestvmusings · 4 years

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TMS S3: GROUP A

THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 GROUP A/ GROUP 1: (contestants 1 - 6)

EP 3x01: CLUES & MORE: RECAP for remaining 5:

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

KANGAROO

CLUES:

Location: Outdoors: “Australia”

Location: Next to a /in a yard of a “peach coloured” building with arch/vault-style architecture

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: OUTBACK (with the U being in the shape of horseshoe)

Sign: Yellow “road sign” with an arrow pointing down (”spiraling down”)

MIB as papparazzi/press following her - taking pics, media attention (for “the wrong reasons”)

Gramophone on a tree branch

Boxing bag - the kangaroo boxing/hitting the boxing bag

Jump rope - the kangaroo jumping over a jump rope (made of a vine...held by MIB)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

”Like most of you watching, I’m a survivor.”

“I recently lost a person, who held my familys heart together. Then, by my own admission, I found myself in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.”

“But I’m here to do what kangaroos do best - bounce back.”

“I have to fight for my family. And show them that bullies never win.”

“I am beyond terrified - I’ve never done anything like this before. But I’m not about to lose the chance to realize the dream I’ve always had.”

“To all the survivors out there -- This one’s for you.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn

Look/Costume: The kangaroo has a pouch (indicates female), but also has a red/silver boxing outfit & gloves (indicates male). Outfit colours: red & silver. Important: there is a crown on the back of her robe.

Stage: hexagon-shaped mirrors (5 of them) surrounding her/behind her [if my other guess is correct, then that stage design is a “clue”]

Height: Tall-ish...almost the same height as host Nick. A bit shorter, around 175cm, probably.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “One of my greatest fears is being vulnerable. And this year I’ve had no other option than to be vulnerable. But...with this kangaroo costume I feel like I can get my superpowers back.” + [breathes in/sighs heavily before the song starts]

GUESSES:

I HAVE NO NAMES OF MY OWN. -- I thought she was this certain female artist, because the voice kinda seemed familair (sounded like hers to me), but none of the clues and other things seemed to fit. And after checking the clues it seems to confirm it cannot be her, cause nothing matches. Also... to me she doesn’t sound like any of the singers I thoughts she could be based on the clues, so... I havent actually figured her out...

I think people online are correct, and it’s a certain “reality star” (gramophone = reference to her dad being a sound engineer on a well-known past TV show) Though I am considering a few more options - mostly other reality stars/youtubers/family members of celebs... particularily one name. If my guess here is correct, then just like Llama, she would have a connection to a previous TMS contestant...but since I am not that familiar with her singing voice, I cannot be sure. But she has lost family members in the past few years, she has been in a media scandal, and you can even explain the australia thing kinda... so...until I hear more of her, I’ve got one name mainly in mind. But I wont name it until I’ve heard her sing at least once more.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Survivor = the title of a “Destiny’s Child” hit song

Lost a family member recently = either her family member (parent, grandparent?) died or they parted ways (were cut ouf of each others lives)

Gramophone = possibly a reference to a Grammy nomination/win. Or just music/sound/audio

Outback = possible connection to Australia

“spiraling down” road sign + papparazzi following her = she’s been in a media scandal “recently”

Crown = King/Queen

LLAMA

CLUES:

Location: Radio station/Mixing studio - mixing console (close up)

Location: Pottery making “class”

VISUAL CLUES:

Mixing console - close up of a studio/radio station mixing console

23.3 The Wool (name of the radio station/show)

Red lightbulb in the studio

Photo of a bull (the animal)

Playing cards: Ace of Spaces & Jack of Spades). Two black suit cards showing (Jack Black)

Sounds of Seattle - title of a vinyl album

Romancing a llama: pottery

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Mix it up!”

“Good morning, Nerd herd! You’re listening to The Wool. Where we’re all cool. No Bull.”

“I’m here for one reason only - to have a laugh. And what’s funnier than a Llama? (laughs at his own joke)”

“You may call me a joker. But I’d like to get serious for a minute. The song I’m singing tonight is my favourite track for celebrating love with that... special someone. There’s nothing like being swept up by it’s deep, profound lyrics. It’s a tune that really gets me in the mood for romance. I can’t wait to sing it for you tonight.”

“Llama out!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “She Bangs” by Ricky Martin

Look/Costume: Dressed as a tourist - “hawaiian” style shirt,, photo camera around his neck. Llamas tongue out of his mounth, on the side.

Height: he is around 180cm - about the same height as host Nick (their shoulders are on about the same height)

Mic hand: Left

Talking: “umm.. This whole costume just spoke to me... My vibe... I wear digs like this in real life.” (answering the question about his costume & it’s looks)

GUESSES:

Drew Carey (TV host/comedian/actor...)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

23.3 Wool = His show (The Drew Carey Show) had, during it’s 9-season long run, a total of 233 episodes.

Photo canera prop = His hobby is photography. Actually, it’s more than just a hobby - he has been accredited press photographer during many (sports) events.

Radio = He was a radio operator during the time he served in the Marine Corps. Also..he’s hosted a radio show (radio DJ) during his later career

Red light in the room = photography reference. In the DarkRoom red light is used when developing photo film/photographs.

Buddha figurine (Dalai Lama/Llama joke) = He is a buddhist.

Joker = he is a joker aka comedian

Seattle = He is the co-owner of a Seattle Football Club.

Playing cards = He took part in the celebrity poker game in 2003, where he did better than Jack Black did (played against Jack Black)

Nerd herd = He did take part in Zack levis (Chuck) “Nerd herd” lightsaber race one time at a Comic-Con convention.

Nerd herd = his show (DCS) & character were/was about nerds/was a nerd

Llama’s side tongue = early in his stand-up comedy days he had a joke with a side-tie (it looked visually very similar to what the llama’s tongue looks like - he just added some wires & tape to do “the trick” of swinging the tie to the side)

BONUS: He knows last years winner, “The Fox Mask” - they did “Whose Line is it Anyway” together, so... connection...

SPOILER ALERT: Llama is the mask who will be voted off next - in ep 2 (on Wed, Feb 5th). But while his voice might not be as trained as some other contestants, I loved his stage energy, and the comedy/fun he brought! One more song coming from him! And no, I am not sharing some secret info - they “accidentally” revealed the first two contestants, who get unmasked, so it’s been revealed by the network...for those, who notice small details...

MISS MONSTER

CLUES:

Location: Lady’s restroom/bathroom. The moster getting ready (coming hair, applying hairspray...)

Location: school hallway - lockers

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: (image) ladies restroom

Itmes on the counter in bathroom/dressing room: Furspray (hairsray) can, pink bottle of some beauty product, three crystals (stones), a piece of sequin fabric

Key/Keychain: a single (old style) key with a keychain that says “FUN” #FUN #KEY = FUNKY = “QUEEN OF FUNK”

Purple furry diary/good luck charm/cosmetics bag/pencil box (with a face + kitty ears & unicorn horn) + a glittery pen

Lockers: Lockers numbered 10 (the ones she opens) & 11 (the one next to it)...with no other lockers having numbers on them

Miss Monster Locker: filled with images of S1 Monster, scrapbook flowers..etc...

Piece of paper on the locker door: Monster Hits.

Photograph of a cityscape (skyline with many skyscrapers) on the locker door [if I could only see the image better to know which city it is on it, that’d be one more clue]

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

“When you become famous, people want you to look or act in a certain way. They forget that you started off as just a shy little monster.”

“It didn’t take long for me to be misunderstood. So I’m here to set the record straight. Just like my favourite creature in Season 1 did. The Monster. He made me feel. He re-wrote his story. It was fire!"

“And now this performer in pink wants to follow in his furry footsteps, But darlings... I’m nervous. Will you still love me without knowing my name?”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Something to Talk about” by Bonnie Raitt

Look/Costume: pink & purple/violet furry costume with a bowtie

Height: she is short-ish (shorter than host Nick). She looks very short (barely 5 feet - more Dolly P. height 152cm than Chaka K height 162cm)

Mic hand: Right

Talking: NO ON-STAGE TALKING!

GUESSES:

Chaka Khan

Dolly Parton (since the total number of Grammy noms that the 18 contestants have in combined in 69 & Robot as the first revealed one has had 24-25 of them, that leaves only 44-45 for everyone else, that rules out this person, because she alone has had 46 nominations...compared to C. Khan’s 22 noms)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Number 10 = She has 10 Grammy Awards/wins. (interestinly: both D. Parton & C. Khan have 10 Grammy wins!)

Monster Hits = she has had (many) hit songs during her career

He made me feel = She has a song by the title “I Feel You” (1984 hit)

It was fire = She has a song by the title “Through the Fire” (1985)

Will you love me - that is (word for word) the title of of her her hit songs, “Will You Love Me?” (2007)

It was fire = She wrote the hit song “Fule to the Flame” (1967 hit) for Skeeter Davis.

Will you still love me? = She has/wrote a song titled “I will always love you”

Furspray/Hairsray = he was/is known for her big hair/haircut (managing that probably takes lots of hairspray)

FUN = FUN(K) #FUN KEY [FUN:KI] - she’s kinda the “queen of funk” (one of her albums is titled “FUNk This” (btw: Pun intended by her!)

TURTLE

CLUES

Location: school’s track & field event (Balzano Track Field) - contestants getting ready to run. The slow turtle surrounded by fast bunnies, all preparing for the event. [Slow & steady (turtle) wins the race]

Location: Schools track & field event - BANG! The race begings. The three other contestants (MIB as bunnies - wearing pink bunny ears - starting the race with a head start, all jumping on their blue bouncy balls)

VISUAL CLUES:

Turtle vs bunnies

BANG! in comic style - to mark the start of the race

The others (three bunnies) bouncing on blue balls whe n the race begins

Surf board - the turtle poliching/cleaning his poink & blue surf board

Pins on the track...popping the blue jumpy balls

Grilling burgers on an (outside) grill...on the track field.

Turtle crossing the finish line first (bunnies just going in circles, being stopped by pins on the way, or other reasons), as he has time to do other things & take it slowly, and then still get there first...with a burger in hand & winning the golden medal.

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"At the starting-line of my career I was surrounded by other hungry new-comers. It felt like everyone around me was fighting tooth-and-nail for the dream. And I watched as many of those stars burned too brightly, too quickly, and then fizzled down”

“I’m a turtle, because I’m always taking it step-by-step.”

“Slow and steady wins the race. But now I feel like I’m ready to break out of my shell. After years of preparation I would love to make a big splash. So I don’t want anyone to cross that finish line before me.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Kiss from a Rose” by Seal

Look/Costume: Punk/Rock-style, dressed in leather (pants, jacket), has a spike (hair)

Height: Short-ish (shorter than host Nick) - seems around 175cm. Small in size.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “It’s hot. It’s really hot. And it’s heavy!” (when answering how doesn it feel to be in that costume and perform in it)

GUESSES

Jesse McCartney

Joey McIntyre PS. I tried connecting the voice to any boy-bands (of 1990s & 2000s), but I coukdnt. Even after some “research” - listening to each possible candidate...and IMO it’s none of them. The voices dont match, the heights doesn’t match---But it did sound like someone, who for me was a one-hit-wonder. Yeah, I only know that one song (and one more) from him... but voice seemed familiar.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

Surf board = that he is a surfer; that he is from Cali/Australia/somewhere which is known as being popular among surfers; that he has won Teen Choice Award(s) (this award in in the shape of a surfboard)

being surrounded by other new-comers at the start of his career = either he got his start through a (singing) competition and was one of many contestants fighting for the win AND/OR he got his start in a “boy-band” and was one of the youngsters looking for fame...

Surf board = Teen Choice Awards - winning several TCAs for his first/biggest hit song/album in 2005, and more. And he’s played a surfer character on a TV show

BSB references/connection - he was the opening act in 2005 for BSB during the European part of the tour.

Dream = he started in a boy-band with the name “Dream Street”

on stage presence/body language (movements) = very similar to J.M.

WHITE TIGER

CLUES:

Location: Football field. Tiger striking a power/winners pose.

Location: School hallway, lockers. Tiger walking in, shoving everyone out of his way.

Locatrion: School library (sitting behind a table, with his legs on the table)

Location: School hallway, lockers. MIB trying to get him to audition for TMS. MIB (fans) taking selfies with him.

VISUAL CLUES:

Golden plate/sign with text: Ultimate champion for clam shucking: 51 clams” (next to a golden clam shell)

Sign/ad on the wall: “Masked Singer tryouts 5/3.” + images of three past masks included: Eagle, Lion & Raven. Plus the text: “Hurry. Not for long" also written on it.

Sign on the all with images of past US presidents, including Abe Lincolns & the text/quote “Four Score and Seven Years Ago...”

The TMS golden mask throphee shown next to the lockers (as Tiger says “let’s party!”)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICEOVER:

“Ready to meet your next champion? My entire life I’ve sought out perfection, so choosing a mask with unlimited power like the White Tiger was a no-brainer.”

“I’ve had a giant career full of accomplishments. But when I imagine being on stage (and) singing, I’m a big old scared cat.*

“It’s been a while since I did something that scared me, so I’m here to concour yet anither challenge.”

“What’s my motivation? My fans! I don’t wanna let them down."

“So now I’m ready to get in that ring and smash the competition.”

“Let’s party!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice

Look/Costume: Dressed in “Egyptian style"

Height: very tall & big (much taller than host Nick) - over 190cm, looks about 2m tall

Mic hand: R & L (alternates)

Talking: “It’s the most powerful I’ve ever felt. Like I can concour anything. I never wanna take it off” (when answering what did it feel like when he first put on the costume/mask)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

He played during the 51st (51 clams) & 53rd (5/3) Super Bowl games.

The three past TMS masks shown are all animals that are parts of names of existing football teams: Ravens, Eagles, Lions. Meaning he is an athlete & specifically plays american football (NFL)

The Lincoln quote translates to “87 years ago...”, so number 87 is the clue here. This could be a reference to player No. 87.

He has had a very succesful career in his own field (sports). Singing is not his main job.

IF the voice-overs were done later, not during initial filming, then it’s possible that “smash” relates to the person smashing a lego-statue of a TV host during 2019/2020 New Years. Which in itself was supposed to be about his famous “Gronk Spike” during football games.

A tiger (albeit “regular”, not white) was one of the characters & costumes + name of the sports team in the Katy Perry video “Swish Swich”, where this athlete also appeared.

The Golden (Golden Mask) trophe - most likely a reference to his many wins (the trophees he/his team has won)

GUESSES:

Rob Gronkowski (Gronk, athlete, 198cm) = 99% certain it’s him

Because of the height alone (seems to be around/almost 2m = 6 feet 5) there are not that many possibilities at all. Even if we don’t listen to that voice or consider the clues. Based on height alone it can basiclaly be only one of these names: Dave Bautista (198cm); The Rock (196cm); Hulk Hogan (201cm); Tyler Perry (196cm); Brad Garrett (204cm); Joe Manganiello (196cm); Jeff Goldblum (194cm); Jason Mamoa (193cm); Tom Brady (193cm)..or the likes...

Even other possible names, like the ones listed by the panel, are not valid guesses, because of their height: John Cena for example is actually only 185cm tall. Also... several of these tall men are bigger/more muscular, so that makes it even easier to determine the name based on only the physical appeance...without even listening to the clues.

ROBOT

First mask to be voted out in ep 1

Havent listed his clues, cause there’s no use for them anymore, as he was voted off.

With his 86 tattoos he makes up for about half of all the 160 tattoos the 18 contestants have combined. With his 24-25 Grammy nominations he makes up about 1/3 of all the 69 noms the 18 contestants have combined. And quite many of the 88 gold records the 18 contestants have combined, belong to him (I don’t know the exact number, but most/all of his 10+ albums have gone gold, I think) - exact number depends on how they count it for this list.

<<<<< THIS IS WHAT GOES ON IN MY HEAD AFTER EVERY TMS SHOW/EPISODE. THIS IS HOW I CATEGORIZE THE INFO I HAVE INTO FOLDERS IN MY MIND. THIS IS HOW SPECIFIC I AM, AND HOW INTO DETAILS I GO. THIS IS HOW MUCH I PAY ATTENTION (while, most likely, missing a ton of more hints that I’ll only notice during re-watch) I JUST DECIDED TO WRITE IT DOWN...FOR ONCE.

BUT... unless I decide to cut some sleep time to do this again, I am probabky not gonna do this after every episode. Possibly for the first episode of every Group (so beside ep 1, also ep 4 & ep 7)

#THE MASKED SINGER #TMS #SPOILER #TMS SPOILER #TMS US #THE MASKED SINGER USA #THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 #TMS S3 #TMS SEASON 3 #THE MASKED SINGER S3 #MASKED SINGER

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bolddeducktionneverfails · 5 years

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Launchpad’s Association With Della Duck: The End of The Runway?

Some time after the premiere of the DuckTales reboot, I came across speculation regarding Launchpad possibly being the father of the triplets; a claim that has probably followed the character since the debut of the original series. (A lot of us probably thought about it at least once when we were younger.) I wasn’t in favor of the idea, but I was still open to Launchpad having something else to do with Della. They’re pilots after all, so I figured some sorta connection could be made: Maybe Launchpad was a fan of hers or a flight school colleague. Were they best friends? Could Launchpad have been a friend of the triplets’ father? Maybe he was the one who brought the couple together.

As the show progressed, along with the Disney Duck media that followed it, Della's outfit changed colors. When “Dime Chase” aired, her Money Bin portrait depicted her without black gloves, tan shorts instead of a cream colored pair and her scarf was suddenly a shade of green as opposed to a peachy-looking color. In the previews for the IDW comics, her outfit pretty much fell in line with the newer painting, but I noticed how her scarf was now a shade of teal that was very close to Launchpad's hat. Then in "House of The Lucky Gander!", Launchpad showed competence and maturity when he went out on a dangerous mission to check on his old girlfriend. The release of IDW's second and third issues of DuckTales comics gave us an idea of what Della was like and she seemed like someone who could get along pretty well with Launchpad. And eventually, I realized that Ziyi may have gone missing...just like Della did.

This was getting all too interesting. From that point on, I decided to consider the theory and continued to find other notable occurrences that could indicate Launchpad and Della having a past. I became convinced and took another stab at connecting the dots:

First, I started off with the concept of Launchpad trying to figure out what happened to Della like Dewey and Webby were. Maybe he was hoping his job with Scrooge would help him get some answers. Webby stated in "Dime Chase" that bad things happen to those who speak of Della Duck, so maybe he was waiting for the best time to ask; gaining the family’s trust and perhaps doing his own secret investigation in the meantime. Then, after trying to figure out Launchpad’s odd behavior in “The Last Crash of The Sunchaser!” and “The Shadow War”, I began to think that maybe he already knew that Della got lost in Space after taking the Spear and that he’s been wanting to help Scrooge find her because it might be his fault in some way. Maybe applying for the chauffeur job was his way of making up for his involvement. I also wanted to believe that maybe he’s been playing dumb to an extent because he's afraid of everyone getting mad at him.

When the description for "Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!" was released, it was very vague about whether Della succeeded or not with rebuilding the Spear. I was stuck in the mindset that it would be too early for her to make it directly to her family. I thought that maybe she would at least make it to Earth, but there would still be another struggle for her to face in order for her to make it back to Duckburg. After "Golden Spear" aired, I wondered if there was a catch to the ending. The switch happened so fast and the sky looked really eerie...I thought it was a dream Della was having after she had crashed elsewhere. But once IGN posted a clip from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” to assure us that Della really was coming home this early in the season, I began to anticipate a family reunion involving Launchpad and Della being on screen together; finally revealing their secret connection to everyone and…

They don’t know each other.

Their very first interaction on the show is Della yelling at Launchpad and angrily running out of Donald's Houseboat to confront Scrooge about replacing her.

This scene should have been a devastating blow that cancelled out all of Launchpad's eligibility and should have prevented any other way to work around it.

But instead...it caused me to look further and reroute my ideas.

When Della told Scrooge the original names she had in mind for Huey, Dewey and Louie, I could have yelled...if I wasn’t watching TV so early in the morning...“Jet” is Launchpad’s first name in the Italian Ducktales dub and “Turbo” is his name in the Dutch version. “Rebel”, as far as I know, has nothing to do with Launchpad. It’s probably included because it breaks the pattern...unless this is referring to the fact that Launchpad is an (very) unorthodox airplane pilot.

A ʟɪsᴛ ᴏғ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ’s ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ғʀᴏᴍ ʜɪs I.N.D.U.C.K.S ᴘᴀɢᴇ

So...Della basically wanted to name her children after Launchpad in the same episode where they meet for the very first time? A lot of Disney research goes into this show, so it's really hard for me to believe the show runners would choose two names that just so happen to already belong to Launchpad. Even without intentionally thinking of his alternate names, the words "jet", "turbo" and "launchpad" all go hand-in-hand with each other.

Why is the foreground telling us that Della and Launchpad have nothing to do with each other when the background is giving us every reason to doubt this?

This lead me into thinking of something I would have never fathomed:

What if LP used to be the father...but an event changed him into who we currently know him as?

One character turning out to be another isn't a new thing in the DT fandom. When Season 1 was still premiering, there were theories going around about Della being Magica and Webby being a de-aged Della due to a magical incident. I'm usually against these theories because they tend to involve two well-known characters with established histories. Neither of them would be able to exist at the same time; a sacrifice would have to be made and that doesn't feel right. But with HDL's father, we know so little about him, that it would be easier to merge his history with someone else who shares enough similarities with him: Launchpad and the father are both accident prone ducks with red hair and possible military involvement. With Della being a pilot with an unknown lover, that makes this an even better fit.

Fʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅᴇʀ DᴜᴄᴋTᴀʟᴇs ᴄᴏᴍɪᴄs

If Launchpad went through a change, then what type of crazy event could have caused him to become unrecognizable? The first thing that comes to my mind is the cosmic storm.

Issue 18 of IDW's DuckTales comics provided us with a story called "Money Grubbing Hooligans From The Deep!" . It's about a submarine pilot, who shares many similarities with Della, traveling a great distance to save Launchpad after someone mislead her into believing he was kidnapped and enslaved.

Her rescue mission caused such an unusual amount of seismic activity, that a tsunami warning had to be issued out across Duckburg. So basically, a pilot had secret intentions of helping a loved one, that involved traveling through strange weather patterns.

While the comics are not necessarily set as canon, they will sometimes loosely parallel certain events from the show. Like how the first two issues revolved around Donald looking for a job and how that element was present in the pilot episode. “Happy Happy Valley!” seems to be inspired by “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!”. The plot for “The Incredible Shrinking Webby!” sounds similar to “The Most Dangerous Game…Night!” where Gyro’s shrink ray got out of hand.

"Money Grubbing Hooligans From The Deep!" seems to be partially inspired by “The Depths of Cousin Fethry!”. In that episode, Huey and Dewey answer Fethry's call about a discovery at the Mid-Atlantic ridge and trick Launchpad into stealing Scrooge's submarine in order to meet him. Dewey claimed that Scrooge wanted them to go on this "Totally non-suspicious trip to 'test the equipment.'" He also rips out the sub's radio, causing them to lose contact with Scrooge. When they reach their destination, Launchpad gets side-tracked by the call of a mermaid he previously dated.

Later on, Fethry realized that the monster they were trying to escape from, was actually a previous member of his krill team. He didn't recognize her at first because her body was altered by the chemicals in the hydrothermal vents. As he tried to jog her memory, he brought up a moment where they had shared a rib-eye together; it sounded very reminiscent of a date.

Then afterwards, Launchpad returns to the lighthouse after possibly helping his ex out of a situation. He wore an Aquaman-esque outfit, basically held a golden spear in his hand, and had color-coded creatures attached to him that matched the triplets in color and personality traits.

So, in short, a vehicle was stolen under a false claim when the real intention involved a family member and a previous lover.

Back in February, PhatMojo showcased their upcoming DuckTales merchandise for the New York Toy Fair. People weren’t able to take pictures of the new additions at the event, but Phatmojo added pictures of a different display full of mock-ups and prototypes to their website; possibly from a section of their office. In the first row of the posable figure area, a mock-up package of Launchpad, dressed in the Chinese armor he wore at the end of “Gander”, was placed next to a mock-up package of Della’s Post-Spear design.

(Sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ)

For some reason, they’re the only ones with the blue sky background and gold label, opposed to the sunset background and teal label a lot of the Wave 2 toys have. This could just be an indication that these are story elements from Season 1 or maybe sunset and teal was decided after these mock-ups were put together and the final products will convert to it, but at the moment...this really makes the two pilots stand out…Below the figures were a couple of boxes with talking plush toys. One of which, had a Launchpad plush leaning on a toy of the Spear.

The placement of the items shown might not be completely random: Lunaris is placed under Della and he definitely has something to do with her this season. Donald is placed in between him and a figure pack that looks a lot like the triplets in space suits. And the figure packs containing Gizmoduck, Della Duck and Darkwing Duck are grouped together when they have a connection to the Moon. While Della and Darkwing are self-explanatory, Gizmoduck was involved with the Moon Level in the classic DuckTales video game. Perhaps this was hinting towards their involvement in Donald’s rescue or the invasion in general.

PM could certainly be hinting something with Launchpad and Della too, LP’s outfit comes directly from the case of a missing loved one and the toy company is well-aware of what will happen in the future of the show. If LP has nothing to do with Della, wouldn’t there be some temptation to place Donald next to her instead? They’re twins, it’s a much better fit and the row would have been full of the original adventuring trio.

If the packaging of Launchpad and Della’s figures were done as an indication between seasons, it’s kinda odd to have Macaw!LP in a group of Season 2 focused toys and especially being something that’s seen as a small running gag. It’s like, why not make a figure out of Launchpad’s look from “Depths”? It’s a similar situation, but more recent. The fact that this version of the character is getting a toy really seems to suggest that this subject will be brought up again with something significant attached.

Another interesting thing about the picture of the display is the time that it was released: It was added to PhatMojo’s website during the time the Toy Fair was happening; February 16th to the 19th. A day later, Issue 18 was released on the 20th, when it’s original date was planned for the 13th, closer to Valentine’s Day. Two days later, a clip from “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!” was posted to Disney Channel’s YouTube account and the following day, a promo begin to air...two weeks before the episode premiered.

This was the episode to break up a long hiatus, so it was probably being promoted this early to generate hype, but like...a photo of a display with Launchpad and Della next to each other, a toy of Launchpad leaning against the Spear in that same photo, a story about a female submarine pilot wanting to save Launchpad and details about Della’s mysterious journey, all getting released in such a short period of time? This is looking a bit pre-planned...

Before “Whatever Happened” aired, I remember seeing some speculation about Della possibly being affected by the cosmic storm in some way. Huey asks her about this in “Nothing Can”, but it's left unanswered, similarly to Huey's question about Zeus controlling all storms in “The Spear of Selene!”. Could this be implying that Zeus was probably the one who created the cosmic storm? And if Della wasn't affected...couldn’t that leave the possibility that someone else may have been?

I didn’t catch this the first time I heard it, but Launchpad’s “a little lightning never killed anyone” quote from “Selene” sounds a lot like he was struck by lightning before. He said a similar thing in the latter half of "Woo-oo!' after he got a pile of snakes dropped on him. He's probably been bitten by snakes many other times and knew that the venom wouldn't be able to kill him.

Launchpad made joke in the DT joke book about getting struck by lightning and Zeus was mentioned along with it...LP has yet to be on screen at the same time as Zeus, or any other Greek deity for that matter. (A similar thing usually happens whenever the Duck Cousins are focused on. He's been on screen with Donald before, but they hardly ever interact.) Both the joke and the quote could have been referring to a past encounter. And judging by LP's avoidance, it could have been a negative one. He seemed a bit nervous about leaving the plane when it crashed on Ithaquack. We've seen Donald get directly struck by Zeus' lighting in “Golden Spear” and nothing special happened to him, but combined with the radiation of the cosmic storm? It's bound to do something to somebody.

Iɴ "Tʜᴇ Sᴘᴇᴀʀ ᴏғ Sᴇʟᴇɴᴇ", Wᴇʙʙʏ ᴛʜᴇᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ Dᴇʟʟᴀ sᴛᴏʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ Sᴘᴇᴀʀ, sʜᴇ ᴀɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡʀᴀᴛʜ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ. Tʜɪs ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ sᴇᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғғ ɪɴᴛᴏ Sᴘᴀᴄᴇ. Sᴏ, ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsʜᴀᴅᴏᴡɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ?

Tʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴏғ "Gᴀᴍᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ" ᴀɴᴅ Sᴘᴀᴄᴇ: Gʏʀᴏ ᴡᴀs ᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ-ᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴢᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪs sʜʀɪɴᴋ ʀᴀʏ. Aғᴛᴇʀᴡᴀʀᴅs, Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ʜɪs sɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀs ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀ "Gɪᴀɴᴛ Wᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏғ Nɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ Hᴏʀʀᴏʀs". Pᴇɴᴜᴍʙʀᴀ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇs Eᴀʀᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴀ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴡᴀʏ.

Issue 18 made me wonder if Launchpad could have been abducted by aliens. His character has a history of space travel and he’s been abducted by aliens before in the original Darkwing Duck series. Launchpad’s behavior in “Terror” really seemed to indicate that he may have gone through a situation where a shape-shifting creature, perhaps after turning into someone he trusted, attacked him and the mole monster movie was bringing that memory back. While he was talking about how anyone could be a mole monster, he stands in front of an alien poster. The poster for the mole movie is right next to it.

In “Moorshire”, Launchpad got taken away by the kelpies, creatures that are known to shape-shift, in the remains of the golf cart he was driving. Huey noticed he was gone and went to save him before it was too late. Maybe Launchpad’s past self used to be an astronaut pilot and the aliens attacked him in his ship.

If Launchpad was somewhere in the area where the cosmic storm was, that would explain why Della pressed forward instead of turning around. Scrooge told her to turn back, implying she could, right? If not, I suppose the poor connection delayed his warning. Scrooge talking to Della at that moment may have been the first time he was able to contact her since taking the rocket. The way Della reacted to the video connection cutting in and out seemed like she may have struggled with it earlier. But if she could have turned back to dodge the storm completely and if it was simply a test-run like Scrooge had claimed, there was no need for her to deliberately go through the storm without a purpose. There had to have been something she was trying to get to in the direction of it and she felt like passing through was the best option.

Lᴀᴜɴᴄʜᴘᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴏsɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Lᴏᴜɪᴇ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ ɪɴ "Gᴀᴍᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ", ɪs sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴡ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Sᴄʀᴏᴏɢᴇ ɪɴ "Lᴀsᴛ Cʀᴀsʜ". Tʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇᴅ.

There could be a parallel between Della's departure from Earth and her departure from the Moon:

Donald didn't want her and the family to go into Space because it was too dangerous with HDL on the way. Penumbra didn't want Della to bring the Moonlanders to Earth because she thought it was too dangerous and didn't like the idea of Della's planet being better than hers.

Della promised to take the Moonlanders to Earth, similarly to how she wanted her family to go to Space, but the emergency launch being activated caused her to break it. This might be hinting that something sudden and urgent caused her take the Spear as soon as she did.

In "Dime Chase", Webby questioned if Della betrayed Scrooge and the Moonlanders felt betrayed when Della ended up leaving without them.

Della's urgency for leaving the Moon was so she could finally get back to her family. Based on the fact that she placed the family photo on the dashboard of the Spear when she first entered Space, family could have been a driving force in that situation too.

I find it extremely interesting that Scrooge compared the Sunchaser situation in “Last Crash” to the Spear incident while Dewey was desperately trying to resolve the mystery about his mother. As Dewey tried to find answers in “The Spear of Selene!”, Selene talks about how much Della loved a good mystery and also how much she loved her family.

Because of these things and the fact that Dewey is so similar to Della, this could be an indication why the whole Spear thing got started: she too could have been making a great risk to solve a mystery.

The dialogue during the scene where Dewey is outside of the plane may have been hinting this:

Webby and Louie try to talk him out of chasing the missing piece.

"Dewey, this is crazy! The mystery's not worth it!"

"I--I get it, but you can't give up the rest of us to find the one person we lost!"

Launchpad comes up to the window after this is said. The glass creates a divide between him and the rest of the group as he makes a statement that comes off as completely irrelevant. Huey takes the walkie-talkie from him.

"Dewey, our family is amazing! We're enough, let it go!"

Then, Dewey angrily chucks his walkie-talkie; losing connection with his brother.

So, maybe this is what could have happened: Aliens or something else could have caused the father to go missing for a long period of time. After realizing he disappeared, Della may have started an investigation that turned into a plan for a family rescue. Somewhere in this, she could have gone to Selene for help with the mystery. Maybe Della named the Spear after her friend to express gratitude.

It’s very possible that she had intentions of bringing her family together and letting the father know about their children, but after Donald voiced his negative opinion of the trip and refused to let her take the boys, her plans were disrupted. Somehow, she found out about the Spear and could have started reworking around this. Perhaps the father was trying to come home at this point and eventually got caught in the cosmic storm. He could have sent out a mayday but lost his connection. Maybe Della received his distress call or was given an idea of where he was and took off to help him.

Since Launchpad has been very secretive about his love-life and Della’s hasn't been directly mentioned anywhere, I feel like she may have not told Scrooge and Donald about the father for some reason or anything about him being the underlying reason for wanting to explore Space. For a while, I've been headcanoning that the couple was mainly nervous about what Donald would think of their relationship and decided to hold off on the introduction until they felt ready. (Aside from giving Della room to grow as a parent, perhaps one of the reasons why Donald was sent to Space was because he would have interfered with Della discovering who Launchpad really is.)

Maybe she kept getting interrupted or ignored every time she wanted to talk about the father to her family. That tends to happen to Launchpad when he has something interesting to say. There could be a running gag playing off of the popular version of Don Rosa's Duck Family tree where the father's face and first name are "censored". What if she purposely left the father out of her explanation because she thought she would be more likely be to discouraged? To be told that the three of them were enough, like Huey said to Dewey?

I ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ɪғ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Dᴇʟʟᴀ's ᴘᴏssɪʙʟᴇ ʀᴇsᴄᴜᴇ ᴡᴀs ғᴜᴇʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs. Mᴀʏʙᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇᴛs ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʟɪᴋᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ.

Donald probably didn’t give Della a chance to explain everything when she brought up her ideas of Space travel during such a crucial point in time. Donald was quick to call Della reckless and brainless in "Last Christmas". There was even a parallel being made between that situation and the one surrounding the Spear: There was an underlying motive, she made a big deal, wanted to spend time with her family, packed a bunch of supplies and Donald was opposed to the adventure. She was also searching for someone to make another part of her family happy. When Della shared her plans about the rocket, he could have shot her down by insulting her and caused her to lose her point as they argued.

ᴀs sᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ "Lᴀsᴛ Cʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs" ᴀɴᴅ "Sᴋʏ Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇs", ʙᴏᴛʜ Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴀɴᴅ Dᴇᴡᴇʏ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ.

After "Whatever Happened" premiered, I wanted to believe Della succeeded in her rescue mission, but got caught in the storm on the way back. That would explain why she was laser-focused on her boys, because she had already did what she needed to do. I had also thought her regret over the situation when she said "I will NOT fail them again!" mainly lied on the promise she made to her boys about finding a way back home. But what if she failed completely? What if she regrets ever stepping foot into the Spear because in the end, all it did was make her miss out on motherhood and did nothing to help the father? When it comes to the letter Della left behind, a lot of fans have been wondering why she wrote "I’m sorry" instead of "thank you". I first thought it was “sorry” as in “Sorry for ruining the surprise!”, but it could be “Sorry, but need to go on this mission!”, “Sorry, but I'm running out of time!”, “I'm sorry for whatever may happen after I do this!”. The letter sounds a lot like she had to do something against Scrooge's wishes that couldn’t wait. If this was just a test run, she could have definitely waited for certain conditions to be right.

After discovering that the moon mite was a mother, General Lunaris makes a statement that resonates deeply with Della.

"She put herself in danger, faced unknown threats, scoured this entire planet for any scrap of metal."

"...Because a mother would do anything for the sake of her kids."

The moon mite’s actions reflected Della’s. It wouldn't be as fitting if Della's decision was fueled by selfishness, therefore, she put herself in danger for something in relation to her kids.

Pᴇɴᴜᴍʙʀᴀ ғɪʀɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴀsᴇʀ ɢᴜɴ ᴀs Dᴇʟʟᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴍɪᴛᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴɪsᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴡ sʜᴇ ᴘᴜsʜᴇᴅ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴍɪᴄ sᴛᴏʀᴍ.

Scrooge's flashback made it look like Della cared more about adventure than her family, but then in Season 2, we see her doing everything she can to come back home and see her express her desire to be a good mother. She loves her family too much to suddenly cast them aside. Della is flawed; she impulsive, but at this point in the series, it's hard for me to think of her messing up this badly without a bigger reason being attached to it.

Ok, ok, so, that could explain why Della didn’t recognize Launchpad's physical appearance and a possible reason to why Della took the Spear, but why doesn't he recognize her? And why does Della not remember his name? After his meeting with Della in "Nothing Can", I looked back and realized that Launchpad may have been showing signs of amnesia.

In "Beware of the B.U.D.D.Y System!", he can't remember if he has a pilot's license or not and makes the most bewildered face as he tries to think about this.

I thought that was extremely odd...I mean, either you have your license or you don't. How do you just forget something significant like that? Being a pilot is his passion. In the joke book , he claimed pilot's licenses don't exist. Huey confronts him about how wrong he is and asks if Launchpad has one. He doesn't answer.

Launchpad isn't good at remembering the lyrics to songs. In "Last Christmas!" he didn't know a majority of the words to "The Twelve Days of Christmas" and had to improvise; mostly repeating the same phrase and forgetting the ninth day. In the description for the Theme Song Takeover video, the description highlights his forgetfulness. In "Moorshire", Launchpad is very confused about what golf is and constantly mixes it up with other sports. And in "Last Crash", he... doesn't seem to know what a parachute is…? In spite of all the piloting he does?

After Scrooge tells the kids not to tell Donald about their trip to Atlantis in "Woo-oo!", Launchpad quickly asks "Who is that?". I had wondered if maybe Scrooge referring to him as Uncle Donald was the part that threw Launchpad off. He was right there as Scrooge and Donald argued in front of the gate; saying each other's names. Maybe LP thought HDL were Donald's sons or the sons of a cousin. But seriously...Launchpad has been just about everywhere. So has Scrooge, Donald and Della. How can he know who Scrooge, the Richest Duck in The World, is without knowing who’s been accompanying him for many years? The family is so famous, he should have known about Donald and Della’s existence prior to working for Scrooge.

Wᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ LP’s ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ᴊᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀ. Mᴀʏʙᴇ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ Dᴏɴᴀʟᴅ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀs sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ.

Webby describes Donald as one of the greatest adventurers of all time. Stepping out of the spotlight for a decade to raise the boys isn't long enough for him to be forgotten. Launchpad Is around the twins' age, so it's not like he was too young to remember hearing about their adventures.

Aside from forgetting about important items and significant people, Launchpad could be suffering from a loss of self-identity as well.

I had earlier speculations about LP being a spy since he briefly worked as one in the old DuckTales episode "Double O Duck" and joked around with the idea that he was only disguising himself as a bumbling pilot to retrieve more information about Della. Now, I think he would make a terrible spy since it's hard for him to lie...on purpose, but he still seems to have this double-life thing going on: he has two jobs with Scrooge. One he was hired for, the other one being more voluntary. He has a different outfit to go with each one instead of having a consistent set of clothes like everyone else. It's evident enough that he was going to wear his chauffeur look no matter what he was doing, but was later changed during production. Maybe this decision was done to illustrate how there is more than one side of him.

Tᴏᴘ, Lᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ Rɪɢʜᴛ: Fʀᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ 2ᴠᴇɪɴᴛᴇ’s ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏs, ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Cᴏᴠᴇʀ B ғᴏʀ Issᴜᴇ #4, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ Cᴏᴠᴇʀ B ғᴏʀ Issᴜᴇ #5.

Bᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ, Lᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ Rɪɢʜᴛ: A sᴄʀᴇᴇɴsʜᴏᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴜᴄᴋʙᴜʀɢ Qᴜᴇsᴛ ᴍᴏʙɪʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ, ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏ ᴀʀᴛ.

There was a long period of time where the IDW comics only featured LP in his chauffeur outfit on the cover, but depicted his piloting outfit on the inside. This went on until Issue 18. They probably had to revise all of his drawings to put him in that outfit, but it's interesting how they didn't go all the way.

Launchpad finds it extremely difficult to pretend to be someone else without acknowledging himself. In “B.U.D.D.Y”, when he asks Gyro for help, he splits himself into Not Launchpad and Launchpad to speak hypothetically but ends up confusing the two with each other. When he was pretending to be Donald in “Castle”, he quickly forgot he was supposed to be in disguise. He catches himself and tries to go back to being Donald, but he keeps reverting back to Launchpad. Fergus noted his "nephew's" drastic change in appearance and could sense he was confused.

Scrooge's confusion over Launchpad being a pilot in "Woo-oo!" may have had a double meaning. His ignorance towards Launchpad's mentions led him into being surprised, but combined with the fact that he can't recall getting his pilot's license, this could have been hinting that he was never a real pilot. Or at least, never an airplane pilot.

Like I had mentioned before, he could actually be an astronaut pilot. One of the requirements for being an astronaut selection candidate is having a certain amount of hours of flying a jet aircraft. This option is geared more towards candidates that start out from the military and as an old character description for Launchpad states, he may have had military involvement as a test pilot.

Prior flying experience isn't needed to be a test pilot and a pilot's license isn't required to be an astronaut, but there is a six-week training process you have to go through to fly a military jet. Being another kind of pilot would explain why Launchpad has the basics of flying a plane and possibly why he can operate a sub exceptionally well without prior experience.

If "Launchpad" isn't his real name, maybe it's something he remembered from his astronaut background. Was it a nickname he was given? An alter-ego he had previously made for himself? And after the amnesia confused him, it became something he fused with himself?

Amnesia or not, one thing that's for certain is that LP has sustained a bunch of injuries; some of which were head injuries: He crashed into a wall in “Toth-Ra” while trying to catch Scrooge, he got hit with a golf club in “Moorshire”, he was rubbing his head after the Jeep hit the interior of the Sunchaser in “Last Crash”, and Scrooge caused him to hit the limo��s hood a few times in “Game Night”.

I suggested in my first Association post that Launchpad may have had a severe injury that kept him sidelined and one in relation to the head is looking very likely. The father was originally hospitalized for having a firecracker put under his chair and the show could be using that as a base. Amnesia could have occurred due to the whole Space incident being too stressful for him to remember or an outward force, like magic, could also be an explanation. Getting struck by lightning can also result in memory loss (as well as...many other problems).

If Launchpad truly is amnesic, his awareness isn't in full like I had previously thought it was, it's partially hidden in his subconscious. He'll do or say certain things and maybe he's not exactly sure why, but there’s a deeper meaning connected to who he used to be. He can't remember who Della is as a person but he remembers things about her and probably bits and pieces of the incident. This could be why Launchpad's been dating around so much; he doesn't realize it, but he's been trying to make his way back to Della. Most of his relationships may have not been very long lasting. From what we’ve been let in on so far, they seem to be at this weird status where they still have feelings but continue to stay apart. Perhaps every time he tried to develop a serious relationship, something came up and got in the way. One of those things could have been his subconscious telling him that this wasn’t who he used to be with. Constantly trying to figure this out could have been what eventually led him to working for Scrooge in Duckburg.

Something was definitely happening in Launchpad’s mind during the events of "Last Crash" and "Shadow War". After Scrooge accidentally refers to Della, we aren't able to see Launchpad's immediate reaction; the camera is very quick to focus on Beakley, but when Scrooge asks LP to hand him another parachute, the pilot instead hesitates and gives a look of concern.

When the investigation crate breaks open and Mrs. B takes the Spear's blueprints from Webby's pocket, Launchpad is left out of these shots; preventing us from seeing his reaction. But when the missing piece flies up to the front of the plane, we see that he's in a tense pose with his arms drawn close to his chest.

Launchpad completely disappeared at the end of "Last Crash" when everyone was leaving the mansion and likely didn't check on Scrooge until three days later. As Mrs. B guilt trips the boys into reuniting with Scrooge, Launchpad blinks excessively, sadly looks off into the distance and has a couple of outbursts.

When Della is mentioned by name, the focus is on Louie with Launchpad's clenched fist next to him.

He's having all these feelings about something he supposedly has nothing to do with and he doesn't understand why. Mrs. B could sense something was wrong with him based on how surprised she was over his hesitation and the "why are you overreacting?" look she gave him when he responded loudly to her sarcasm. I'm convinced that the show-runners wanted to catch our attention without having to reveal anything yet.

This post is getting really long, so I'm gonna break it off into another part talking more about the amnesia theory with a case we've already seen, what kinds of special abilities Launchpad may have and some reoccurring themes that may be leading back to "Whatever Happened to Della Duck?!"

...Are you up for more reading? Continue here.

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