wotw round 1

propaganda under the cut!

wylan van eck:

Everyone turns him into a baby due to sheer ableism. He can't read, so they turn him into an uwu crybaby. Literally what the fuck. He's a fucking wizard at math and chemistry and he's literally a ball of spitfire behind a sophisticated upbringing. Guy runs on subtle spite. But since he's gay and disabled... He'S bAbY. ugh. also bonus points for everyone using him as an excuse to be racist. They'll make him cry and blame it on an Kuwei (Asian kid) and then say racist shit bc of it. Literally in canon Wylan was just annoyed about what actually happened. And mostly not even at Kuwei. No crying involved.

Listen. Wylan maybe isn’t as experienced at crime as Kaz or the others but he literally makes bombs for a living. His response to not wanting to kill unconscious men is ‘We could wake them up’. His father tried to murder him. Wylan is a badass be gay do criminal, not some cinnamon roll (is it because he’s dyslexic? Is it because he’s the white one in an interracial m/m ship? Is the fandom just bad at reading?)

wylan is unhinged her makes books bombs and loves explosives. he amazing at chemistry and math and music. he is NOT a soft uwu baby that needs saving from Jesper or kaz he can do it by himself

agent 8:

Was a child soldier, lost their memory and got trapped in an underground testing facility, had to complete a bunch of tests BY THEMSELF and collect four thangs, almost got blended after assembling said thangs, and then had to escape the facility, defeat a mind-controlled version of your character from the first game, and save the world, where if you get splatted, unlike the rest of the game, you canonically die. Yet people reduce them to "too pure for this world, needs protected." they are NOT helpless they literally have military training. It's less common now but it was a very common sentiment back when Octo Expansion came out.

Sadie Hawkins Dance

Yes, I know it is Thursday, so don’t worry, I will be posting chapter four of Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee. However, I couldn’t wait to post this because I first got the idea months ago, and it is a gift for a wonderful friend. @snowbellewells is like my fandom twin. We have so much in common, and we’re constantly saying to each other “me too!” when we chat. Marta, you are one of the kindest people I have ever met, and I wish I could send you a handsome pirate to feed you Hershey Kisses, but alas you’ll have to settle for this fic. But, my dear friend, you deserve all the best!

Marta, this fic was inspired by our conversations about term paper season as English teachers. Remember when I told you about rewarding myself with Hershey kisses every time I finished grading a paper? I stopped classroom teaching when I had my oldest, and since Luke turns eleven next week, that means I’ve been away for over a decade! It’s hard to believe, and I know that things have changed tremendously since I taught. However, my mom, my sister, and my cousin are all still teaching, and I know from them that kids now do almost all their work on laptops given to them by the school. When I taught I still used an overhead projector! Anyway, I tried to make this accurate, but I may have made mistakes, and I also know here in the States things vary so drastically state to state and district to district. My point is, I tried!

Also based on the song by Relient K. My husband was cleaning out his nightstand a few months ago and found an old CD Walkman. Inside was my old Relient K CD, and I have been on a kick listening to them again ever since.

Summary: English teacher Emma Swan and her fellow English teacher and best friend Killian Jones use Hershey Kisses and a bet involving their school’s upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance to motivate them as they grade term papers. But will this lead to kisses other than the chocolate variety?

Rating: G for tooth rotting sweetness

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @welllpthisishappening @thislassishooked @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @resident-of-storybrooke @ekr032-blog-blog @nikkiemms @shireness-says @ultraluckycatnd @optomisticgirl @distant-rose @profdanglaisstuff @gingerchangeling @vvbooklady1256 @wellhellotragic @ohmakemeahercules @hollyethecurious @cocohook38 So many of us love Marta, go give her some birthday wishes!

She said, “You’re smooth, and good with talking. Will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?” The Sadie Hawkins dance, in my khaki pants, there’s nothing better. The girls ask the guys. It’s always a surprise. There’s nothing better. Baby, do you like my sweater?

Killian Jones slammed down his red pen, then slapped his hand on the term paper he had just finished grading. Emma Swan rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“Hit me,” he said.

Emma grabbed a Hershey Kiss from the bowl on her coffee table and unwrapped it. “Open up,” she told him.

She tossed the candy through the air, and her best friend caught it perfectly on his tongue. He relished the chocolate with exaggerated pleasure, winking at her as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. Emma rolled her eyes.

“You’re full of it, Jones, and a complete drama queen.”

He chuckled as he slid another paper from the three stacks lined up in front of him on the coffee table. Emma sat with her back against her sagging couch, her legs spread out in front of her beneath the well worn table. Her stockinged feet rested in Killian’s lap. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the table. His neat stacks of papers sat on one end, and Emma’s laptop on the other. Killian cocked his head at her, his pen tapping on the dented wood.

“A drama queen? You wound me, Swan.”

She squinted as she searched the screen for where she’d left off reading her next student’s paper. “Well you’re the one eating chocolate like it’s a sensual experience.”

“It is a sensual experience - meaning pertaining to the senses,” he argued. “I smell the cocoa, I taste the milk chocolate, and I feel the candy melting on my tongue.”

As if to prove his point, his tongue made yet another appearance. Emma glared at him.

“Okay, you make eating chocolate seem like an orgasmic experience.”

He laughed, scratching behind his ear, and Emma grinned at the nervous tell. She’d won this round of their usual flirtatious, slightly scandalous banter, and she inwardly exulted. She was well aware that most of the teachers and half the students at Storybrooke High were wondering when the Freshman English teacher and the Junior English teacher were finally going to get together. She hated to disappoint them, but it was never going to happen. Killian had started out as her co-worker, then had wormed his way into the friend zone, and the next logical step would be a relationship. Emma didn’t do relationships. One night stands, yes. Casual dates, yes. Neither of those were in the cards for her and Killian since they were permanent fixtures in each other’s lives, hence the friend zone.

“So, are you chaperoning the dance?” Emma asked casually.

“I would love to, but it’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, and no lass has asked me.”

Emma glanced up to see Killian giving her his patented adorable pout. Nobody did puppy dog eyes like Killian Jones. Emma rolled her eyes. Nobody did eye rolls like Emma Swan.

“We’re talking about chaperoning.”

“A man still likes to be wooed, Swan.”

Emma barked out a laugh at his ridiculous antics. She saved what was on her screen, entered the grade into her online gradebook, and slapped her hand on the coffee table.

“Hit me!” she said.

A Hershey Kiss went sailing through the air, hitting Emma on the cheek and bouncing onto the floor.

“Apologies, Swan.”

Emma scowled as she threw the candy back at his head. “You did that on purpose!”

He laughed as he unwrapped another chocolate, and this time, he aimed for her open mouth.

“That’s 14 down, 76 more to go,” Emma sighed. “How about you?”

“Ten.”

“You could go faster if you did it all online. That’s kind of the point of the kids emailing the links to their papers? You know, teaching in the 21st century?”

“I prefer the old fashioned way, love,” he argued splaying both hands over his perfect stacks before him, “I need to print them out, to feel them in my hands. I can also grade them anywhere, whether or not there’s wi-fi. And finally, I have a system.”

Emma shook her head as she chuckled. He’d given her a long, rather boring overview of his “system” before, one that he swore kept him from being too harsh on either the best writers or the weakest. He tried to be fair and to bring out the best in each student, so really, how could she fault him?

She could, however, tease him.

“Well, old man, I guess someone has to keep the red pen factories in business.”

“There are factories that only make red pens?”

“Someone makes them,” she mumbled as she forced herself to focus on a poorly written introduction.

“I’m fairly certain the adult coloring book trend will protect the red pen market.”

“I never got that fad.”

“It’s supposed to be relaxing, Swan.”

“What’s relaxing about coloring the same damn flower with a million petals for half an hour?”

Killian laughed, the sound of it free and easy. Their conversations were always this way. Mostly ridiculous, brutally honest, and always fun.

“You know,” Emma told him, leaning back against the couch as she worked the kinks out of her neck, “studies have proven that students get stressed when they see the color red on their work. Why don’t you use another color?”

“Like what?”

“Anything, apparently, remember the adult coloring books? Use . . . I don’t know, purple or something.”

“Then they’d just get stressed when they saw purple.”

Killian scratched a C- across the stop of the paper he was grading with a flourish, then slapped his hand down on it. “Hit me!”

Emma tossed him another Hershey Kiss, and then the two of them fell into silent concentration. Killian absentmindedly rubbed the bottom of her feet with one hand as he ran the end of his red pen along the lines in front of him. He started to chuckle after a few moments and lifted the paper for Emma to see.

“Do you know what this is?”

Emma smiled as she leaned closer to the paper. “A list?”

“Aye. A list of every short story F. Scott Fitzgerald ever wrote. With the year each was published and in what literary magazine it appeared.”

Both Emma’s eyebrows rose. “And what point font is that?”

“18 in verdana.”

Emma laughed. “Do they think we’re idiots?”

Killian shrugged as he scribbled a note in the margin. Emma spun her laptop around for him to see.

“A list of every agricultural export from Costa Rica. 22 point font, comic sans”

Killian quirked a brow. “Looks like Nicholas Zimmer takes the prize for best padding of a term paper.”

Half an hour later, the floor was littered with an obscene amount of Hershey Kiss wrappers and the tiny paper tails that Emma knew she would keep finding in her carpet for at least a month. Her vision was swimming as she tried to focus on her laptop screen and Killian was stretching the fingers of his right hand with a grimace on his face. Emma stretched both arms above her head and her spine cracked.

“25 down. You?”

Killian rubbed at his forehead wearily. “22.”

“I told you it would go faster on your computer.”

“Technically, I went faster. You completed eleven in the last half hour, while I completed twelve.”

Emma waved off his argument. “Short term gain, Jones.”

“Oh really?” he replied, leaning over the coffee table towards her. “What about a little wager, Swan?”

“I’m listening.”

“If I finish grading my term papers before you, I get to pick out what you wear for the Sadie Hawkins dance. If you finish first, you get to pick out my outfit.”

Emma narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms. “No way I’m letting you pick out my outfit.”

“Scared?” he teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Of course! You’re a man! I don’t want to get fired.”

He splayed a hand over his heart. “Swan! Do you not trust me?”

“No.”

He chuckled, setting her feet on the floor so he could come around the coffee table and settle in next to her. “I just have a need to see you as a stereotypical schoolmarm. You know, tight bun, glasses, a tweed skirt.”

Emma snorted. “Let me guess, tweed mini skirt with my shirt half unbuttoned.”

“Nope,” he argued, popping his p, “I mean, full blown schoolmarm. Maybe even a cardigan and a string of pearls.”

“Okay then,” she told him, giving his tight jeans and blue button up a once over. As usual, the top few buttons were undone on his shirt to let his chest hair breath. “And if I win this little bet, I want to see you go full blown nerd. Khakis, a sweater, bow tie, the whole nine yards.”

Killian gave her a smug grin. “You’re on.”

They shook on it, and then Emma’s head fell to his shoulder. “I guess this means we should get back to work.”

“I don’t know about you, but I need a break.” Killian picked up her Roku remote. “The Musketeers?”

Emma pouted. “You know too many of my weaknesses.”

He waved the remote in her face. “Just a few episodes, Swan, you know you want to.”

She scowled at him as she snatched the remote. “One episode, then it’s back to work.”

He flashed her a toothy smile as he rose and pulled her onto the couch with him. She curled up next to him, grabbing a blanket from the arm of the sofa. One episode turned into three, which turned into both of them drifting off. The next thing Emma new, sunlight was filtering through her curtains, and Killian’s chest was rising and falling beneath her cheek.

So much for getting back to work.

********************************************************************

Emma stifled a yawn as she walked up and down the rows in her first block class as her freshmen clicked away on their laptops to identify the dependent clauses in the list of sentences on their screens. She had a cup of coffee on her desk, but she was pretty sure it was cold by now. Her neck hurt too because Killian’s shoulder apparently didn’t make a very good pillow.

She paused just as she walked past Violet’s desk. The normally quiet and studious girl was laughing behind her hand, and was that the ding of an incoming message Emma had just heard from her computer? Emma spun back around, and Violet’s eyes grew large and round. The girl slammed her laptop closed, her face turning red and Emma almost felt sorry for her. She couldn’t have looked more guilty if she’d tried.

“I . . . finished early,” Violet stammered.

Emma held her hand out, “Let me see.”

Violet slumped as she turned the device towards her teacher. Emma opened the computer, and Violet’s grammar work was there on the screen. Yet down in the corner was the icon for the Discord app. Emma pulled it up and saw that Violet had been chatting with Grace three rows over. But one of her best students chatting in class in an app that wasn’t even supposed to be downloaded onto a school computer wasn’t what shocked Emma. What shocked her was the content of the conversation.

whiterabbit: saw somethin this morning

camelotgirl: what

whiterabbit: know how ms swan lives across the street

camelotgirl: yeah

whiterabbit: i saw mr jones leaving this am they hooked up!!!!

camelotgirl: no way mayb he was just givin her a ride

whiterabbit: no his car was at her place all night

camelotgirl: she does seem tired lol

whiterabbit: you know he wore her out 😜

camelotgirl: O.M.G

Emma knew her face was ten times redder than Violet’s. Which was saying a lot because Violet was currently the color of a tomato. Emma took a deep, slow breath, then released it and told herself not to panic.

“Violet, I would like to see you and Grace after class. In the meantime, you are to concentrate on the assignment and that is all.” Emma arched a brow at Grace, who also slumped in her seat. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Swan,” the girls murmured in reply.

Emma pushed Violet’s computer back to her, and forced herself to lengthen her spin and keep her voice calm. She finished the lesson, feeling relief surge through her when the bell rang. Grace and Violet, with heads down dejectedly, shuffled reluctantly to Emma’s desk.

“How did you girls get that app on your computers?” Emma asked. “You know social media of any kind isn’t allowed on school devices.”

She tapped her fingertips on the desk as she regarded the girls. Actually, the laptops were set up with all kinds of blocks and security settings, so whoever got around it was smart. Grace and Violet were good students, but they weren’t the computer hacker types.

“Do we have to tell you?” Violet asked, her lower lip trembling. “We don’t want to get him in trouble!”

Emma forced herself not to smirk. Violet had been dating Henry Mills for a few months now, and she had a strong suspicion he was the him. He was a good kid as well, but also entirely too smart. Not to mention his mother was the principal, which meant he had free rein of the school after hours. She’d also noticed him spending a large amount of time with Graham Humbert, the school IT guy. Emma had assumed it was because his mother had briefly (and notoriously) dated him, but it looked like Henry had other reasons for seeking the man out.

“No, you don’t have to tell me,” Emma said, leaving out the fact that she would be having a private conversation with his mother later. Violet visibly deflated. “But, you will be deleting that app immediately.”

She had both girls pull up Discord, and when their chat once again filled the screen, Grace turned to Emma.

“I only told Violet, and I promise I won’t tell anyone else. Your secret is safe with us.”

Emma let out an irritated breath before smoothing her features into what Killian called her “teacher face.”

“I appreciate that, Grace, but this illustrates why you can’t jump to conclusions. Gossip can do a lot of damage. Mr. Jones and I were grading papers together, that’s all.”

“Teachers pull all nighters?” Violet asked as her brows rose.

Emma chuckled. “Yes, sometimes. Term papers take a really long time to grade, so this is a very stressful time of year. That’s why I’m tired all the time.”

She gave Grace a pointed look then, and the poor girl turned a bright shade of red. “We’re sorry, Ms. Swan.”

“Apology accepted. Now, erase this app because if I see it again, I’ll have to write you up and send you to Mr. Humbert to get your hard drive wiped.”

She was fairly certain the threat of a hard drive wipe was more motivation for the girls than demerits.

**********************************************************************

Emma jumped when a to-go bag from Granny’s was plopped onto her desk. She rubbed her eyes wearily and blinked to clear the sleep from them. How had she fallen asleep so fast? It felt like the bell just rang to dismiss her kids to go to lunch. She looked up to see Killian standing there with a pleased grin on his face.

“Grilled cheese,” he told her.

“With fries?”

“Onion rings.”

“Good,” she said as she grabbed the bag, “I was just testing you.”

Emma bit her lower lip as she watched Killian pull up a chair and set his own Granny’s bag on her desk. School gossip had never bothered her before, but after the chat she’d read between Violet and Grace, she was tempted to ask him to eat lunch somewhere else. But how could she when he’d bought her favorite meal? Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had spoiled her this way. She’d completely taken advantage of his coveted third block planning period, yet he’d never complained.

“So how’s it going?” he asked, gesturing to her computer screen.

“It’s not,” she sighed. “I told you The Musketeers was a mistake. I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open all day.”

He chuckled before taking a bite of Granny’s lasagna. She studied him as she dipped an onion ring in ketchup. If he was equally exhausted, he showed no evidence of it. His eyes were as bright blue as they ever were, his black dress slacks, collared shirt, and leather vest hugging his frame in a tasteful yet fashionable way. His hair was tousled, but artfully so, and she knew full well he’d spent time in front of the mirror to get it to look that way.

“What?” he asked after swallowing a bite of salad. “Do I have sauce on my shirt?”

She shook her head and smiled. “You just don’t look as tired as I do, that’s all, and it’s completely unfair.”

He shrugged and waggled his eyebrows. “What can I say? I’m devilishly handsome.”

Normally she would roll her eyes and throw him a witty retort, but today she was more aware of his flirting than usual. She glanced over his shoulder at the door that led to the hallway.

“Something is bothering you, Swan,” he told her seriously, “and it isn’t your fatigue.” He leaned closer. “You know you look lovely as always, right?”

Emma shifted nervously in her chair. “You probably shouldn’t say things like that at work.”

Killian’s eyes widened, but he quickly covered it with his usual charming smile. “Then I’ll just save it for tonight. I was thinking you could come to my place, and I could cook for you because God knows you need to be eating more than Pop Tarts and grilled cheese.”

Emma kept her eyes glued to her sandwich. “I don’t know. I was thinking I might just grade on my own tonight.”

Killian was silent for such a long time, that she finally lifted her gaze to his. There were times she got the uncanny feeling he could read her mind. Her heartbeat picked up, worried he would ask for an explanation, but instead he quirked his lips into a half smile.

“I won’t force feed you broccoli, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I just need to focus, that’s all,” Emma muttered before cramming another onion ring in her mouth.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “then how about you come over tomorrow night?”

Emma suppressed a groan. He was really going to make this difficult, wasn’t he? “I actually think we need to stop . . . you know, spending so much time together.”

Killian narrowed his eyes. “Where is this coming from?”

She let out a long, slow breath before telling him about the Discord chat she had stumbled upon. When she finished, his expression was unreadable. He just sat there, lounging back on that stupid plastic orange school chair as if she was an open book.

Oh, who was she kidding? He could always see right through her.

“Okay, Swan,” he finally said with a long, slow nod.

He rose from the desk and stepped right into her personal space, balancing both hands on the arms of the leather desk chair she had saved up money to buy herself. It was an extremely fancy chair that spun and rocked. Emma currently had it leaning back as far as it would go, and still Killian leaned forward, his nose almost brushing hers. His eyes, a darker blue than they had been when he first walked in, searched her face. His gaze flickered to her lips, and Emma wondered if he would kiss her. When he spoke instead, she was surprised at how disappointed she was.

“But the bet is still on,” he told her, voice low.

“The bet?” she winced when it came out high-pitched. Damn, she wanted to kiss him right now. What? No, he was her best friend! It wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be like that.

“The Sadie Hawkins dance?”

“That is a sexist and antiquated tradition.”

“Be that as it may,” he quipped with arched brows, “Storybrooke High is having one, and if I finish my term papers first, you owe me a schoolmarm outfit and a dance.”

“The bet was we had to wear whatever the other one chose. We never said anything about a dance.”

Killian leaned ever closer, turning his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m changing the terms. I want a dance.”

Emma swallowed, his close proximity sending a chill down her spine. “I am disinclined to acquiesce to your proposal,” she shot back, quoting one of his favorite movies.

Killian released the chair and stepped back, a crooked grin on his face. “We shall see about that. Good day, Swan.”

She sagged in her chair, her heart racing. It was as if she had thrown down a challenge, and Killian decided to rise to the occasion. No Emma, she admonished herself with a quick shake of her head, poor choice of words! She wet her lips, trying to calm herself down, but there was no denying it.

She had a thing for Killian Jones.

Which meant she had just lost her best friend. She turned to her desk with a groan and dropped her head to the hard surface.

***********************************************************************

Emma smiled when she saw the little bag of Hershey Kisses in her teacher box. She pulled them out and read the accompanying note:

75 down and only 15 more to go! I sense a schoolmarm outfit in someone’s future! Love, Killian

Her smile widened to a full blown grin as she dropped the gift into her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone.

Thanks for the chocolate, Jones, but I see a sweater and a bow tie. 78 down. *mic drop*

Emma chuckled under her breath as she sent the text. She tossed her phone back into her bag and fished around for her keys as she headed down the humanities wing. She was surprised to see Violet and Grace waiting for her outside her door.

“What are you girls doing here so early?”

The teens glanced at each other nervously.

“We, um, wanted to talk to you,” Grace explained.

“Ok,” Emma replied as she unlocked the door. A tiny part of her worried that their private Discord chat had somehow become public, but she quickly pushed it away. After all, she had avoided Killian for a week now; their only interactions texts and the frequent chocolates left in her teacher box.

Emma entered the classroom, flipped on the lights then dropped her bag beneath her desk. She plopped into her chair and spun to face her students.

“I’m listening, ladies.”

“Well . . . “ Violet began hesitantly, “you see, we’ve been thinking, and . . . um . . . I mean, we noticed -”

“We think you should ask Mr. Jones to the Sadie Hawkins dance,” Grace blurted out.

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

“It’s all our fault,” Grace hurried on, “that you won’t hang out with Mr. Jones anymore. I mean, everyone knows you’re together all the time - “

“- until now,” Violet put in.

“Exactly!” Grace nodded. “And Mr. Jones just hasn’t been the same. He’s really sad.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Girls, I seriously doubt Mr. Jones is pining over me or anything. We’re just friends. And I haven’t stopped hanging out with him, we’re both just busy.”

She pulled her laptop out of her messenger back and opened it up on her desk, expecting that to be it, but the girls lingered. She glanced up at them with raised brows.

“You’re wrong, Ms. Swan,” Violet said softly, “he really is sad.”

“How do you know this? You’re freshmen, he teaches juniors.”

“Henry said so.”

Emma frowned at Violet. “Your boyfriend told you his teacher is sad?”

“Well, yeah. Henry wants to be a writer, and he’s always hanging around after school because of his mom, so he’s gotten to know Mr. Jones really well.”

Emma bit her lip as she regarded the girl. She was well aware of the bond between Killian and Henry Mills. The boy had even let Killian read a few of his short stories.

“And everyone’s noticed the yearning looks and doey eyes,” Grace added with a smirk.

Emma scoffed. “I don’t yearn.”

“But he does,” both girls said at the same time.

********************************************************************

Killian Jones was well aware of his tendency to brood. He used to argue when his brother Liam would accuse him of it, but now? Now there was no sense denying it. He was brooding, melancholy, angst-ridden, and a thousand other synonyms for dramatic and pathetic. He was a grown man acting like a teenager in a Disney Channel movie.

He threw his red pen down on his desk in frustration, realizing that his mind was a thousand miles away from Emily Dickinson and her dash-filled poetry. He was so close to finishing his term papers - just five to go - and he’d never wanted to win a bet so badly in his life. He’d missed Emma terribly even though it had only been a week. If he won the bet, maybe he could at least get one dance.

How many synonyms were there for pathetic?

There was a knock at his classroom door, and he wearily called out for the person to come in. He was thinking of leaving anyway. It was past five, and he obviously wasn’t getting anything else done today.

Henry Mills appeared tentatively in the doorway, and Killian grinned.

“Good afternoon, my boy, or should I say good evening? It’s late for you to still be around.”

Henry came closer to his desk with a shrug, and it was only then that Killian realized he was carrying a large shirt box.

“I went home, actually, but Violet and Ms. Swan asked me to bring this to you. Mom said you were still here, so . . . “

The boy trailed off as he set the box on Killian’s desk. Killian narrowed his eyes as he stood and regarded the box.

“Ms. Swan in league with your girlfriend? What’s all this about?”

“Beats me,” Henry said, “I’m just the messenger.”

Killian lifted the lid on the box, and inside was a pair of khaki pants and a gray cardigan sweater with huge brown buttons. Resting on top was a red bowtie and a note. Killian picked it up and opened it to find Emma’s messy handwriting.

90 term papers graded, Jones. I win. So will you go with me to the Sadie Hawkins?

**************************************************************

“It’s totally unfair, you know,” Emma told Killian as she entered the gym on his arm.

“What’s unfair?”

“That you still look hot dressed like a nerd.”

“I told you,” Killian quipped with a waggle of his eyebrows, “I’m devilishly handsome.”

Emma laughed and smacked him in the chest.

“I have to say, Swan,” he said giving her an appreciative gaze, “you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

She was dressed in a much softer, feminine way than was normal for her. Her dress was pink with an A-line skirt that hit her knees. She had pulled her hair up into a ponytail that she had curled with a curling iron. To be honest, she had never had a date to a school dance before. So maybe this former foster girl was indulging in a childhood fantasy; at least she knew Killian could understand that.

“Why thank you,” she told him, a blush staining her cheeks. “You’re not disappointed about missing out on your schoolmarm fantasy?”

Killian grinned brightly as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Oh, I have multiple fantasies, Swan.”

She was completely incapable of a come back when he looked at her that way. She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting to his mouth.

“Oh for the love of God, just kiss already!”

The two of them jumped apart, faces flaming to see their boss Regina Mills standing there, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. She had traded in her everyday sensible pantsuit for a sensible dress skirt instead. The two of them held their breath, worried they were about to get a lecture on school romances, but Regina just rolled her eyes at them.

“Just keep it PG, ok? Now get to the punch bowl already!”

Grace and Violet may have kept the topic of their Discord chat a secret, but they didn’t do the same about Emma asking Killian to the dance. All night, kids were coming up to tell them how cute they were together. Emma felt her face had turned as red as the punch.

Halfway through the evening, the DJ called them out by name to come out on the dance floor. The hoots and cheers of the students as Killian led her out to the middle of the gym floor was deafening. He rested one hand at her waist and clasped his other one with hers as Christina Perri’s “The Words” began to play. Emma breathed a sigh of relief when students drifted onto the floor as well.

“You don’t like being the center of attention, do you?” Killian teased.

“Not exactly,” Emma laughed.

“Well, unfortunately, you need to get used to it.”

Emma tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because there’s no one here as beautiful as you.”

As cheesy as the line was, for the second time that night, he had left her speechless. Emma’s only response was to release Killian’s hand so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. He grinned in response, wrapping his arms about her waist. The song was winding down, and several of the students noticed how they had drawn closer together. The hoots and cheers from earlier filled the gym. Killian arched a brow at her, and Emma’s eyes widened. What was he up to? She let out a small yelp when he suddenly dipped her, winking down at her. The cheers of the students grew even louder, and now many of them were chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Emma almost panicked when Killian pulled her closer when he lifted her back up. Yet the kiss he gave her was only a brief brush of lips against her cheek, and she sighed in relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to kiss him - God, did she want to! - she just didn’t want their first kiss to have an audience, especially an audience they had to see every single day.

So when the song ended, Emma tugged Killian through the crowd, away from the punch bowl. The dance committee had borrowed sets from the drama club’s last production of Oklahoma! for the night’s western theme. She yanked Killian behind a giant mural of a Conestoga wagon and beneath the bleachers.

“Making out under the bleachers, Ms. Swan?’ Killian admonished with an exaggerated frown. “I’ll have you know I’m a gentlem-”

Emma cut him off, yanking him forward by the front of his sweater, and crashed her lips into his. He was clearly surprised at first, but he caught up quickly. Kissing him was just as good as she had always imagined, his lips soft yet firm, and one of his hands tangled in her ponytail. Emma tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and she swore his tongue tasted like Hershey’s chocolate.

They could have stayed there behind those bleachers, kissing until their lips were swollen, but they both knew they would be missed. And getting caught making out would definitely not be PG. So she and Killian made their way back to the punch bowl, their fingers threaded together, sharing ridiculously sappy smiles.

The rest of the night was like one of those teen rom-coms Emma used to hate. Killian draped his sweater over her shoulders as they walked from the gym to his car, and her foot might have popped like Mia Thermopolis when he kissed her goodnight at her door. Despite kissing under the bleachers, he hadn’t been kidding. He was a perfect gentleman. And Emma literally swooned against the door after telling him goodbye. She waited for the fear to grip her. Fear that she’d let him in too fast. Fear that he wouldn’t stick around. Fear that their friendship would be ruined. But the fear didn’t come.

**************************************************

“Hit me.”

Killian Jones grinned, unwrapped a Hershey Kiss and tossed it into Emma’s open mouth. She ate it with an exaggerated moan, then licked her lips suggestively. He leaned across the coffee table and captured her lips in a deep kiss, tasting the chocolate on her tongue.

By the end of the night, there was an obscene amount of foil wrappers littering the living room floor, and Killian knew they would be finding those tiny paper tails in the carpet for the next month.

But that was okay. He and his wife did this every year. Kisses were the best way, after all, to get through term paper season.

vi. unheralded salvation

Hebrew 13:6. “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?” - except that he was no man.

→ genre: medieval, angst, fluff, smut (on later chapters) → words: 1,967 → pair: werewolf!jaehyun & postulant!reader

warnings (in this chapter): suggestive content, slight violence, swearing, obnoxious lead (lol)

✭ 🕊 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 | 𝔬𝔫𝔢 | 𝔱𝔴𝔬 | 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 | 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯 | 𝔣𝔦𝔳𝔢 | 𝖘𝖎𝖝  🕊 ✭

( a/n: PLEASE READ ON BROWSER!! in the app at the bottom of the post there is an arrow and you could open the story there. // or that was just my personal preference. hehe.  ALSO updates will be moved on Sundays as I noticed I can’t commit on publishing on Wednesdays--it’s job hunting season for me lmao so weekdays are a no-no! )

Jaehyun’s eyes shot wide open when your lips landed on his — it was soft as he imagined: it was as like of a baby’s cheek.

How he loved the feeling of it against his — like a missing piece of puzzle finally found and put into pieces.

It was just an innocent kiss — a soft peck of admiration, but when his hand snaked around your neck and angled you to deepen the kiss, you knew it was beyond innocence and has gone beyond intimacy.

You didn’t pull away — and it was as if you were dancing, you let him take the lead. You were clumsy for this is your first kiss, and you don’t exactly know what to do. You are almost out of breath but just as you thought he was going to pull away as his head tilted, he placed another sweet peck on your lips, allowing a contented hum to escape your lips.

A string of saliva linked your lips when he pulled, but only millimeters apart, and allowed you to breath. Your eyes fluttered open—and you noticed so did his, and you smile, foreheads still touching each other’s.

Just when you thought it was over, his lips once again descended on yours, but this time — it was fiery, like he was an animal in hunger. His teeth nipped your lower lip which cause your lips to part, and Jaehyun took this as a chance deepen the kiss more, his tongue poking yours.

A soft moan elicits from your throat, and you gave in to Jaehyun’s desire.

But you felt like he was getting rougher each moment pass, his hands that were holding you softly earlier, almost like a porcelain doll, was now trailing fire on the skin it touches. His hold on your face and neck was getting tighter, and his kisses was starting to feel rough —

Causing you to pull away.

You pulled away, parting your head away from him with a hurt look on your features. His hands were still on your skin, and you held it, trying to move it away and he complied, placing them on your lap.

“Jaehyun, stop.”

It was a soft moment for Jaehyun, as you took initiative, but a feral flame was burning inside his body: the animalistic side of him trying to come out, which he tried to avoid at all cost.

He just wanted to enjoy this moment with you, but the animal inside him was not going to be soft.

A low growl emitted from his lips.

His eyebrows furrowed and the hand on your lap to keep you from leaving tightened.

“Jaehyun? Are you alright?”

He looked away, as if trying to avoid your question. He seemed to have realized his actions, and if you had not pulled away, he could have hurt you. He didn’t want that.

“Jaehyun—“

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Jaehyun sighed. He sounds so frustrated. “Am I not right?”

Your gaze fell to the entwined hands on your lap, feeling your cheeks warming up. Jaehyun noticed that the grip of your hand with his tightened.

“I...I cannot explain either,” your voice croaked when you confessed.

“It was so wrong, but it felt so good.”

Jaehyun’s eyes wandered to your sulking figure, and his hands lifted to caress your features once again. You lift your head to meet his gaze, but this time he was gentle, like the first touch.

“I know how it feels,” his thumb caressed your cheeks. “But I think this should be the last time we see each other.”

Your eyes widen with his words and you felt your heart started to beat faster. It was confusing, one moment his touches were soft and gentle, afraid of breaking you, and another was it was as if he was blinded with hunger or lust.

Your fingers clasped between his, afraid that he’s going to leave you.

“What are you saying?” Your voice failing you.

He replied with silence, but a sad smile was painted on his features when you leaned onto his warm touch.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he only repeated.

Growing frustrated, you broke your hands free from his touch and pulled inches away. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and confusion turned into anger when your hand landed on his cheek harshly, leaving a hot red mark.

“One moment your lips was on mine and you hold me like you wanted me—and now you tell me to not see each other?”

“You don’t understand, love—“

“Maybe I do!” You shrieked, not minding if anyone can hear your cries. “But I do know what I’m getting into. I know what I am, I know what I should and should not be doing, and it involves what happened just a while ago. I know it’s not the devil, because everything happens for a reason. A person’s steps are directed by the Lord. How can then anyone understand their way?” You muttered, pausing in order to allow yourself to breathe.

“I know what you are, and I know...I know....” you continued, yet realized that your next choice of words was probably incorrect.

You took a deep breath. Although Jaehyun was staring at you with a sad expression on his features, he was having an internal battle with himself inside.

“I feel like I know what you desire, Jaehyun.”

His heart started beating rapidly as well, his internal self was growling, wanting to be unleashed—a picture of you in his arms as he takes you away to his den and make love—

But your soft cries restrained his thoughts like a chain on his wrists.

Your irises stared at his, and the moonlight passing through the window illuminated your soft features, making you an angel in Jaehyun’s vision.

“And I know we share those same desires, Jaehyun.

Slowly, you noticed his figure to have paused, his head was hanging low and his breathing was becoming ragged and heavy. On instinct, you took a step back and then you noticed his nails slowly elongating into claws.

When his head lifted to meet your irises once more, it was not of Jaehyun’s, for it was sharp and menacing unlike the soft pools of his.

“Do we, love?”

The creature chuckled lowly, and the brown filaments of hair started protruding from his skin more. You landed on your bottom while your hands propped your figure for support, wide eyes staring at him.

“J-Jaehyun,” you stuttered his name.

“Do you really think we do, my love?” Slowly he approached you, a claw reaching out to caress your cheek, but you flinched away — creating a line of wound across it, blood slowly dripping out of the dermis.

He seemed to be surprised for the soft eyes you remembered were going back while he retracted his arm.

His body backed away from yours and he was going back to his form, the form you fell in love with.

When you try to crawl to his side, he kept his distance further from you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning his back away from you, escaping once again through the window swiftly while you only look as his figure disappeared—leaving you with a very heavy heart and mind.

Days had already passed when all of it happened, and Jaehyun couldn’t forget a single scene of that night.

Indeed, you shared the same desires as his, but the risk of hurting you was not upon his bearing.

In his pack, most of them already found their mate, only the fortunate ones were when they share the same being as theirs. Although mating with humans were common, not most of them survived.

His mother was one.

He knew how his father treasured her deeply. He knew how he would protect her from his kind or other, but alas, not all the time she could be protected. At the age of nine, they were hunted with the rival pack, and because his mother did not harbor any kind of special potency, she didn’t make it to the escape, even with his father’s aid.

He knew the same fate will come upon yours if he did, and how he didn’t want to lose you.

Not only that, the animalistic side of his already hurt you. He saw the fear instilled in your eyes when you saw his other self. He didn’t want to be feared, especially by you.

Letting you go, safe inside the tall gates of the abbey would be the best choice.

“Jaehyun!”

A deep voice called his name causing his thoughts to be interrupted. He looked back to see his older brother with a wide grin on his face.

“We’re going hunting, do you want to join? Winwin and Renjun saw a herd of moose by the riversi—“

“Sure,” without hesitation he replied. If this was one way to keep his thoughts away from you then he would gladly do so. “Let’s go Johnny.”

The convent provided you with enough clothing and gold for you to go back home, but once you got out, a sense of freedom had rushed through your system.

Once outside the tall gates, you ran as fast you could, feeling the cold rush of wind as you let your feet bring you to where ever. For a long time in your life, you felt the happiest — the thoughts from that one night temporarily erased from your mind as you taste freedom.

But once you settled down, instead of going back home, the events in order — you stayed in an inn, applied for a part time seller at a bakery, and with the excess gold you earn, some of it will go to your earnings while the remaining is given to the beggars in the form of food.

You had decided to keep this solemn life, breaking your religious vows and keeping yourself humble in order to not be seen. It would be no surprise if your family will look for you once the convent will send a letter to your household asking your well-being, and when that time comes, you are prepared to move to another town discreetly as possible.

Although you had not completely forgotten Jaehyun, the emotion you held with him was slowly fading—but the memories of your moments together etched on your mind. You wished you could erase it, but it was the scene that replays on your mind before heading to sleep.

It was contradictory. It was a sweet nightmare.

When you were on the way back to the bakery one day from getting flour from the market, you heard people talking about a hunt. Mostly, men were gathered on the central plaza, sharpening their silver blades while hushing among themselves.

Eavesdropping would be bad, although, you’re not in the convent now. That is one perk.

“A herd of moose were killed by the riverside,” one muttered. “They’re still nearby.”

“That one hunter is so weak to have one of them escape that one night. Maybe when he captured that beast that night, we could use him as bait, but alas. We shouldn’t have trusted that guy.”

“We shouldn’t prolong this. Those damned creatures must be killed,” another replied with a gruff.

“That’s why we should talk about this later at the tavern and flat out our plans,” one added.

“They had only been killing animals though, there is no human killings involved,” another interrupted, but the people gathered around looked at him with creased brows. You saw one lightly lifted his knife towards his direction. The said man cowered in fear.

“Maybe so, first, animals, then what? Our livestock? Our wives and children?” The first man replied to him, his gaze circling around to those who surround him.

“Those goddamned werewolves should be killed once and for all.”

cont.

So I did a thing!

Disclaimer, trigger warning etc:

I haven’t written anything longer than 1k words in years and even then they were in Romanian because it is the language I am the most comfortable with. The following short story has almost 4k and it was initially written for one of my classes, but I decided to post it here as well. That being said, if anybody reads it and has any kind of constructive criticism to offer, please write it as it is both needed and wanted!

TW: mental health - possible depression, character death, self harm

Fragile

     The morning light made its way through the window, slowly bringing the old furniture in the small room back to shape. The drapes were slowly moving due to the light breeze. On the dark wood table a half empty bottle stood next to a glass, a bit of amber liquid still left on its bottom. The birds were chirping happily in the trees in the garden, their songs invading the room and inevitably waking up the sleeping, curled up figure on the couch. The man’s eyebrows were slowly forming an annoyed frown as his mind was leaving the land of dreams behind. With a groan he turned around, hoping to block both the birds and the light. Somehow he had forgotten to close the window and the drapes last night and was just now being painfully reminded of his mistake.

       His arm moved under his head, a makeshift pillow. A futile effort as soon he would have to embrace consciousness. He tried moving again, wanting to run from the real world. He was happy in his dreams, only there. His stiff back protested, another groan escaping the man’s lips. But alas, he was stubborn, refusing to open up his eyes, although the rest of his body was already awake and ready to face the day. His eyelids were shut tight wishing for sleep to come back and drive away the beginning of what was sure to be a pounding headache.

          A child’s cry of joy came from outside. His neighbors, the other occupants of the one story building,  whose company he rarely sought, must have left their toddlers outside already so they could get fresh air and ran after the stray dogs and cats that always seemed to find their way in the garden. Together with the noise made by the children, a restless one that he knew way too well. In the small barn his horse was wide awake, hungry and grumpy. The two sounds made him realize that he had spent way too much time on the uncomfortable couch. The outside world needed him, especially today since he had places to go and people to see. More like a person, Liam, the young lad eagerly waiting for his bimonthly visits in his small room in the mental asylum located on the road, just about a half an hour from the city. Hmm, maybe he could visit the blacksmith after that as well. He groaned again shutting his eyes tighter. Now was not the time to think about Cedric, or his baby, or the fond way his beautiful blue eyes had followed him across the room the previous evening. No, definitely not the right moment.

          With a final displeased sound, followed by a heavy sigh he rose from his accidental bed. Sleeping on the couch was not something he was doing deliberately, but sometimes, when the world was to overwhelming and his mind was running, he would end up there, usually after drinking a few glasses of brandy, which was exactly the case this time.

          The water in the pitcher by the window chased away the final remnant of sleep from his face and changing his wrinkled clothes with a set of fresh ones from the dresser made him feel more human. Unfortunately nothing could be done for his headache, he would have to endure it, but luckily he was used to them by now.

          The next half an hour was spent taking care of the horse’s daily needs, eating and packing his bag. Conrad was no horse show champion, he had brown-reddish hair that ended in white socks bellow his knees. Hector had bought him as a calf five years prior when it became apparent that walking everywhere was no longer a viable option. He had never been interested in riding a bike and automobiles were too expensive for the little money he made as a librarian and since he had not published any of his poetry books at the time, Conrad was the best option.

          Riding always had a pleasant effect on him, taking his mind of things. It was just him, the almost clear road, the strong animal whose every breath he could almost feel and the wind running through his curly hair and making his soft dark brown coat fly behind him. At a crossroad he had to correct Conrad’s course with a strong pull at his rains. The animal was still used to going towards the blacksmith’s workshop as Hector used to visit the man on a weekly basis. Almost a year ago the man was the sole reader of his poems, but that was before, before he got stuck in a loveless marriage.

        “Duty be damned!” The rider cursed pulling again at the rains, using a lot more force than necessary and making the horse go faster.

         His mind was spinning again. Memories drifted in and out, memories of strong arms holding him close, intimacy and a gruff voice whispering dreams that could never be fulfilled. He cherished them, held them close to his heart despite the pain, anger and crushing sadness that came with them.

           “Damn it all to Hell!” he cursed under his breath repeatedly, his now white knuckles holding the reins tight.

           He leaned forward, wishing, hoping that he could become one with the animal beneath him, that his small frame will somehow dissolve until he was no more. Until just Conrad remained, a free horse running without a break, forgetting the ways of the man and what he had been taught. Unfortunately, like all his dreams and wishes, like all their shared memories, his and Cedric’s and even Liam’s, they were destined to be crushed by the strong punch of reality. The world was cruel towards people like them and they were forced to fight with it Their fight was not easy. The weak rarely survived, but the strong? They were condemned to a future filled with lies, deceit, pretend and unhappiness. In this case weren’t the weak more fortunate, embracing death? Choosing release instead of the constant torture of this monstrous world that saw them as shameful, as sinners, as sick individuals that should not be allowed to live. Creatures that were less than human, condemned and confined, if they were lucky, in asylums? Sharing the same space with other people whose minds refused to help them?

             Hector hated having this kinds of thoughts, especially before visiting Liam. But he could not control them. They were constant, coming and going the same why the fingers of his left hand always found their way to the improperly scarred tissue on his right wrist. He had caught himself doing this numerous times, sometimes stopping just before the blood started dripping, turning the ends of his white shirts scarlet. He started doing this now, holding the reins with his right hand and slowing the horse’s pace. He could see the building now. In less than fifteen minutes he would see Liam again. Just two years his junior, the boys towered over him and was hyper and curious the same way small pups are, and just as loving, eagerly offering bone crushing embraces. He missed him, missed his questions and his soft, almost shy voice and the carefulness with which he picked his words. Seeing him twice a month was not enough and again, probably for the twelfth hundredth time, he wondered if there was any way to get him out of there. He was not family, but since he was the only person who had been paying for the boy’s care for the past three years since he had been admitted in the facility, maybe, possibly, probably they would be more lenient. If only he could present his case right. If only he could get him out of there he would be closer to realizing his dream. But alas, he knew that was not possible. The same way he know that he was partly guilty for the boy’s current situation.

           He had met Liam almost three and a half years ago while courting his older sister Grace. Hector was not in any way attracted to the woman, yet she seemed nice and kind. Maybe enough so he could fool himself into trying for the pretend game of the strong. It did not happen. While spending time with Grace he would occasionally spend time with Liam and he soon realized that he was not visiting their household to see the woman, but to see the boy. He was the one more than happy to see him. Desperate to share all the new and interesting things he learned in school. Eager for the older man approval and attention and clearly, at least from Hector’s point of view, clearly infatuated. Liam was a ray of sunshine, stubbornly poking his way through the dark, grey, heavy clouds that were a permanent fix on Hector’s sky. He found himself drawn to the boy, smiling at his antics which felt so strange. He had not smiled in years! But he did that, Liam did that and the librarian was grateful. But how did he show his gratitude? How did he repay him for the joy he was bringing to the surface? By ruining his life!

           Hector bit his lip hard, remembering how he had destroyed everything. How foolish he had been, how stupid! His eyes were prickling with tears he refused to shed. It was a mistake! A mistake! A mistake! He repeated as a mantra trying to convince himself that it was not his fault. But it was and he knew it. He was the one who initiated that kiss. It was a chaste and innocent kiss, a mere brush of their lips. It was a simple gesture of affection for them. But for Grace who has discovered them on a hidden stone bench in her family’s yard, it was betrayal. It was sin, sickness and corruption and Hector was at fault. He was sent away all ties cut off and the courtship interrupted.  Liam was sent to the asylum to get treatment. Or so they said. Hector had found him again by chance, a rumor heard from a work colleague. But the reunion crushed his heart and made him hate the world, their society even more. Grace and the rest of the family had just left Liam there, abandoned, scared and confused. Hector did not know if the so called doctors and nurses were treating him or not, but whatever they were doing did not help him. Liam’s mind, once healthy, beautiful and bright was slowly deteriorating, and so was his speech. Guild made him tremble with fear and anger. How could they do this? What gave them the right to turn this beautiful innocent and artistic boy into a shell, a shadow of what he had once been?  They were monsters! All of them! Grace and her family and the so called doctors. Without thinking he took out the envelope that contained the salary he had just received and placed it on one of the doctor’s desk offering to pay for Liam’s care. That night he had drank himself to sleep, but not before breaking a few glasses by throwing them against the wall and making the first shallow cut on his wrist. The wound was small and did not bled for long, but it was just the beginning. Many followed, all too shallow to cause any serious damage. In the months that followed, the money earned him visiting rights, two times a month, on Saturdays for a few hours. The so called treatment was not helping him. Whatever they were doing to Liam his situation was getting worse and Hector’s money was no more than a bribe. But he had to keep doing this, he would not abandon him, not like him family did. He would be there for him even if that meant watching as his former somewhat lover, for whom he felt bond as to a brother now, was withering away both mind and soul.

            The trip down memory lane did not do him good. It never did! He stopped under a tree in the asylum’s yard, scratching at his wrists. Small drops of blood found their way onto his shirt but he ignored them, pulling his coat’s sleeves to cover everything. He dragged his hand through his wild curls several times in an attempt to calm down him nerves. He did the same to his face in order to make himself look less tired and hangover. After he was done he left Conrad in the care of a stable boy and made his way towards the building, towards the front desk and soon, towards Liam.

             “Good day, miss! My name is Hector Kook and I am here to see Liam Dunn” he addressed the nurse that was managing the reception.

             He usually did not have to give his name as he was one of the facility’s rare visitors. However, the woman seemed new, it was his first time seeing her. She looked at him for a few seconds, probably assessing and judging his exhausted look. She flipped through the register and scribbled down his name, but when she was about to write the purpose of his visit she lifted her head abruptly, her big eyes questioning and uncertain. “Could you tell me again the name of the patient you are seeking, sir?” Her voice was betraying her, it was lacking the calm, polite indifference with which the other nurses were treating him whenever he came. Hector swallowed, dread reaching her long, sharp claws towards him, his headache intensifying.

              “Liam Dunn,” he repeated, as clear as possible. His fingers found his wrist again, scratching, leaving small red marks on his flesh. Something happened, something surely had happened! The nurse offered him a small, sad smile. Pity? Sorrow? No! He must have been mistaken, his mind was tired and foggy, he was seeing things. Everything was fine and soon a male nurse in a white coat would lead him towards Liam’s room and the boy will hug him, laugh and play with his hair while making small indistinguishable noises. He had to calm down, no need to panic. He forced his hand down taking small breaths. “I am so sorry, sir! Could you please wait here a bit while I get his doctor? It is better to hear this from him than from me.” She gestured towards one of the uncomfortable, wooden chair and disappeared along a corridor before Hector could ask any questions.

           What? Hear what? He was almost trembling now. Why was she getting the doctor now? That happened at the end. What could she not tell him? He swallowed and bit his lip, feeling the taste of blood on his tongue. No, no, no, no, no! He had to remain calm! Not think of the worst scenarios! Those did not exist! This was just a change of procedure! He was pacing now, scratching at both of his wrists. Liam was okay. He had, needed to convince himself that. He was okay and healthy, as healthy as he could be in that forsaken place!

             “Mr. Kook?”

             Hector head snapped towards the voice, his hands falling at his side, his breath heavy as if he had ran a race and climbed a mountain. The doctor, Andrew Colby, a fifty something, man, short, but still slightly taller than he was, and usually sporting and easy smile was beckoning him to come closer. The smile was gone, his expression serious, somber. Behind him the nurse was biting her thumb, her eyes watery.

           No!

           Hector approached the man, with heavy legs, barely aware that he was moving them. Colby touched his shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, fatherly, his tone steady and apologetic towards the man half his age. “Mr. Dunn died this morning, sir. In his sleep, natural causes from the looks of it.”

           What?!

           He flinched, putting distance between himself and the asylum’s personnel. His throat was dry, his hazel eyes ablaze with barely contained fury . Died in his sleep? Natural causes? Who were they talking too? He was not a child, he might have been twenty six but he was not fool, not their fool. “How dare you?” he growled curling his fingers inside his fists, his nails hurting his palms. “Natural causes on a case of confirmed homosexuality? Who do you think you are taking to! That pathetic story would work with his sister bur not with me!” He was almost screaming now, clenching and unclenching his fists. Tears were streaming down his face, he did not notice them and made no effort to stop them. He wanted to punch him, beat him up, make him regret everything he had done. “He was just a child you devil and you… you killed him! All of you!”

              The nurse let out a yelp and covered her mouth with her hands. He was frightening her, he was making a scene and attracting attention. But he did not care! He was hurt, his heart was being constantly stabbed. His brother was dead, murdered at their hands because he was different, because he loved the wrong person. How could that bastard look himself in the mirror in the morning and not hate himself? How could he still offer pleasant smiles knowing that he was killing a boy, probably not the only one, and bribing another dry? He was shivering, he felt sick, his head was hurting harder than ever so he turned away and ran. Colby shouted after him, but he could not, did not want to hear. Liam was dead. One if the few precious people in his life, the few he felt connected to, his little ray of sunshine was gone.

              The next few minutes were a blur, he did not remember entering the stables, getting Conrad and running towards the city. But he must have since now they were galloping, the wing whipping his hair and face, his tears still falling. They stopped shortly after that, Hector almost falling of the horse’s back in his haste to reach a tree and hide behind it. He bend over ad threw out the little food he had eaten earlier that day. With trembling hand he took a handkerchief from his pocket and whipped his mouth, face and coat. The tears did not stop. He waited but they kept on falling. He could not do this. He kept seeing Liam’s face in his mind, serene and happy. The pain was unbearable and he wanted to scream. Slowly he made his way a bit deeper into the forest beside the road, fell on his kneed and let out a howl, he cursed, and cursed and screamed and punched the ground until his hands were red, raw and bleeding. His shouts were not the same, Liam’s name turned into Cedric’s and back again, mixed with long shrieks and long streams of profanities addressed to no one and everyone. He kept at it until his voice became weak, until Conrad found him and nudged gently at the back of his neck, then at his cheek. He would have stayed there for hours but an idea started forming in his head. It was stupid and realistically it made no sense, but he wanted to do it, at least part of it. He need to see the blacksmith!

              His legs were still shaking when he got back on the horse. He tied the handkerchief around his bleeding wrist and started galloping towards the city. He did not correct Conrad when they reached the crossroad, on the contrary, he wanted him to hurry!

             The workshop was at the end of a street, a small yard with soft grass in front of it. Conrad stopped at his well-known place near a wooden bench and waited for his master to climb down before he started grazing at the thick, fat grass.

             Hector ran inside the shop, startling the three apprentices. They stared at him, at his now dirty clothes, tear streaked face and red eyes. It was the first time they saw him like this and they were more than confused at his appearance.

             “Were is he?” he asked his voice hoarse, but determined.

             One of the boys let his hammer down and pointed a gloved hand towards a door in the back, Cedric’s makeshift office. Nodding his head towards the apprentice, Hector made his way between anvils and forges almost barging through the door. He closed the door behind him and threw himself at the man, not caring if he was making a mess of the work space.

            “Hector what happened? What are you doing?” he asked with panic and worry in his voice. They had established long ago that their feeling for each other had to be kept a secret, that Cedric had a duty, Cecily needed him and now so did his child.

             Even so, he could not ignore the trembling man in his arms, not when he was clinging to him for dear life wretched sobs and gasps escaping his mouth and chest. “Hector?” he asked again, concerned, his arms finding their way around him in a familiar embrace. One of his rough hands gently caressed his back while the other did the same with his hair in an attempt to calm the smaller man. Hector was not like this, he was a fighter, stubborn as a mule and whatever got him in such a state was scaring him. “Talk to me, please?” he tried again, his voice as gentle as his caress. He moved slowly, sitting down on the chair behind him and cradling the other man in his lap like a child that needed protection. He kissed his forehead tenderly, then his hair, and started wiping his tears, while still combing his fingers through rebel dark brown curls.

            A mumble reached his ears, Hector’s voice to broken for him to understand. He kissed his forehead again, prompting him to repeat.

             “He is dead!” Hector gasped between sobs. “Liam’s dead, they killed him! I do not know how, but they did!”

             The blacksmith’s features hardened, his blue eyes flashing in anger. He had never met Liam, but knew how much Hector cared for the man, knew his story, where he was and the librarian’s fears. He held him closer, not trusting himself to speak, burring his face in his former lover’s hair. He heard him mumbling again, but he did not ask him to repeat. He did not need to. Hector’s wish, what he wanted since a long time ago was loud and clear. He wanted to leave, to run away and start somewhere where nobody knew him and he wanted Cedric to come along. But could he?

Runaway | Sam Drake

Hi! This is my first attempt in writing a Sam Drake reader insert. I’ve had this idea for a while, and I thought I should give writing another shot. This was inspired by the song of the same name by Maroon 5.

This is also more on reader’s point of view, but by the end, I promise it shows Sam’s perspective of the entire situation! WORD COUNT: 2,608 WARNING: ANGSTY AF EDITED: JANUARY 17, 2018 | fixed some lines again, lmao.

RUNAWAY | Sam Drake/Reader

What am I supposed to do with this time? If there's so many holes, I stay afloat But I feel out of control So petrified, I'm petrified

 “Do you have to go?”

You spoke as carefully as you possibly could. Sam, who was packing his stuff inside a worn-out duffel bag, whipped his head to meet your gaze and let out a soft sigh.

“Hey, we’ve talked about this-“

“I know! It’s just- I worry okay? For both you and Nate. I mean, Panama! This is Panama we’re talking about,” you argued. “-And not to mention that the two of you would be staying in prison. A Panamanian prison!”

Sam abruptly stops packing and turns around to face you. Looking at the carpeted floor as he placed a calloused hand on the nape of his neck and started to rub it a bit, hoping to ease his tension. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze once more to focus on your stature. You were leaning against the dresser, refusing to look at him directly in eyes.

Sam can sense that you were trying your best not to burst into tears, seeing that your eyebrows were narrowed and your teeth biting on your lip as tightly as you could. God, he sincerely hated leaving you for work. Sometimes, it would take him weeks, maybe even months, before he’d come back in the security of your arms; and you’d be there at home, wasting away in concern.

But he just couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. This was for his mother’s legacy after all.

He cautiously approached  your figure, in fear that he might trigger you even more by merely walking up to you, as gingerly placed his large palms on both sides of your face. His thin lips touched your forehead as he heard you let out a heavy sigh; you snaked your arms around his torso and held him tightly.

“You know how much this means to me, babe- to me and Nathan.”

“I know…”

--

What am I supposed to do to get by? Did I lose everything I need to survive? Cause at 4 AM, when the sweat sets in; Did you get my message? Did it send? Or did you just get on with your life? Oh.

It’s been weeks and you still haven’t heard from either Sam or Nathan. Bad thoughts have been eating you alive ever since they departed for Panama and you can’t help but feel guilty for thinking so negatively of their safety.

You shook your head and continued to type on your typewriter; trying to muster up ideas for your book. Unfortunately, foul thought had begun to aggravate your mind once more; making you groan out loud in annoyance.

You looked out the window to see that it was already dark outside; you checked the time just to see that it was already late into the evening. You muttered out a curse as you leaned back on the office chair with a frustrated huff; pushing up your glasses while doing so.

Your eyes began to wonder, landing its attention towards the framed photograph sitting on the side of the wooden desk. You reached out for it and charily held the picture in your hands; it was a photo of you and Sam during your vacation in Greece the year before. The memories you shared made your lips curve slightly upward across your exhausted face.

“They’ll be alright,” you said to yourself. “-They’ll be home before I know it.”

Suddenly, a loud and rough rapping against the front door made you jump up from your seat; placing a hand on your chest in attempt to calm yourself from the mini heart-attack. You put down the photo back to its original spot as you stood to answer the door.

Oh, I'm taking time to think and I don't think it's fair for us to Turn around and say goodbye I have this feeling when I Finally find the words to say But I can't tell you if you turn around And run away, run away

The continuous, hard knocking on the door started to become even more obnoxious by every passing second. You pushed your legs a bit faster so you’d scold whoever that person is at the other side, coming by this late hour.

“Coming!” You called out.

By the time you reached the door, you slowly opened it. To your surprise, it was Nathan in a blue prison uniform; all bloodied and bruised.

“Oh my god,” You said “Jesus, Nathan c’mere, get inside!”

After pulling him inside, you immediately closed the door and dragged Nathan into the kitchen; grabbing the first aid kit inside one of the cupboards, and instantly began to work on his wounds. Thankfully, none of them were too serious that required him to seek actual medical help.

Nathan was oddly quiet, but for some reason you didn’t question it. As soon as you finished tending to everything, you finally realized that Sam wasn’t with him. You glanced at Nathan as you were putting away the kit; his eyes were downcast and were frozen in place. What happened anyway?

There it was, the negative thoughts began to gnaw your head again. You inhaled and released the held-up air and cautiously placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder.

“Nate? Hey, are you oka- Woah!”

Startlingly, Nathan hugged you so tightly that you could barely breathe. You immediately melted into the gesture and hugged him back. You felt your shirt becoming damp and see that Nate was breaking down. This made your heart drop, hard.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He said, over and over again.

What?

“Nathan, calm down buddy. What happened?” You pressed. “And where’s Sam?”

Nate let out another wave of sobs and by the time he lifted his head to face you, you felt your entire world crumble because of the four, horrible words that went past his bloodied lips.

“I couldn’t save him.”

--

What am I supposed to do with these clothes? It's my twisted way of keeping you close I'm a nervous wreck, I'm a broken man Did you get my message? Did it send? Or do you get along on your own?

How long has it been? Weeks? Months even? You couldn’t even recall.

After that little occurrence with Nathan, you just couldn’t help but hate yourself. You loathed the fact that you couldn’t even stop him.

The pain was just… Overwhelming.

It was so overwhelming that you couldn’t even cry, and you couldn’t even think of an alternative to ease out your pain. You just…Lied there on your bed, clutching to Sam’s shirts as if you’d lose any evidence of his entire existence.

Nathan didn’t want to dwell on that depressing memory, so he continued the search for Henry Avery’s treasure with that asshole, Rafe, in hopes to distract himself from his own misery.

The publishing company and even your distasteful co-writer had been pestering you endlessly about your draft, but you couldn’t bring yourself to write anything at all- not during your current state that is.

You were about to fall asleep until your phone irritatingly rang right beside your ear. You cursed as you answered the call and placed the device upon your ear. You half-listened to the person on the other side of the line, who you recalled to be as Piper. Although, catching a few words she said.

You needed to report to the publishing company to personally talk about your current piece.

It took you a while to decide whether or not to bless them with your presence, but since you knew that they would either never stop cornering you or you’d lose your job- you didn’t want to take such chances. You lazily sat up and scratched your head in frustration.

You hastily placed any piece clothing you caught sight around your room and grabbed your wallet and beanie. As you finished dressing up, you check yourself in the mirror and you were completely disgusted with yourself.

“God,” you thought. “I’m a horrible mess.”

--

Let’s just say that you had a terrible day. You didn’t get to shower, you got yelled at and pretty much got soaked in the pouring rain-

Damn it, the weatherman said it would be completely sunny today. Liar.

You really wish you stayed at home and mourned all day and now there you stood in the streets: cold, dripping wet and depressed. Damn, you really wanted cry right now- You had no idea how you were going to go home since the rain was literally pouring at the moment.

Unexpectedly, the strong rain wasn’t hitting you anymore; curiously you looked up and saw a brightly yellow-colored umbrella was placed above your head. Looking beside you, you saw a lean man whose hair is pale blond and eyes of brown with a tint of red to them. The strange man was smiling at you as you gave him a quizzical look.

Out of the blue, the handsome stranger gave out a soft chuckle that sounded quite nice when it went past your ears.

“Seems someone’s having a bad day.” He started. “Want me to walk you home?”

You glared at him, suspicious that his actions may lea-

“Hey, I don’t bite! Just wanted to lend you a hand is all.” He said defensively.

“You’re awfully defensive.” You quipped

“Aha, you look quite horrid when you glare.” He joked.

You giggled and the stranger quickly joined in. It’s been a while since you had a chuckle.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, after a few passing moments; he decided to break the silence.

“Hi, I’m Robin. It’s nice to meet you.”

--

Oh, I'm taking time to think and I don't think it's fair for us to Turn around and say goodbye I have this feeling when I Finally find the words to say But I can't tell you if you turn around And run away, run away

 Fifteen years. It’s been roughly fifteen years, and you’ve never thought that you’d be able to settle down and a family of your own. You were now a famous book author and happily married to Robin and the both of you had built a wonderful and healthy family over the years.

Alas, there was still this painful ache every once and a while, as if there was something missing. Maybe it was the sore memories that Sam left. Not even Robin can replace what the both of you had back then.

You were home alone, so there you sat behind the desk once more, typing away on your laptop; merely about to finish another literature masterpiece. Suddenly, an abrupt ringing of the doorbell had pulled you away from your intense focus. You let out a sigh as you pushed yourself away from the desk and went ahead the front door.

You peeked at the door’s peephole, there was a looming figure outside although, the man had his back turned against the door. You took a step back and placed your tired hand upon the cold, metal door knob; turning it slightly and pulled the door open.

And it breaks me down when I see your face You look so different but you feel the same And I do not understand I cannot comprehend The chills your body sends Why did it have to end?

“May I help you-“

“Hi, I’m looking for a [Y/N], does she live here?”

You froze in your place; the voice sounded awfully familiar.

You snapped your eyes open and your gaze landed on familiar hazel eyes. It took you a second to realize who the person in front of you was.

Samuel Drake.

“Sam…?” You quietly questioned.

“Hi, babe.” He replied with small smile plastered on his aged face.

Sam didn’t expect you to jump into his arms, sobbing like there’s no tomorrow. He quickly returned the embrace as he inhaled your scent. You looked almost unrecognizable with your short hair and aged features, but nonetheless- still beautiful.

God, he missed you.

 ---

“-And, that’s how Nathan and I got out of Libertalia.” Sam finished as he smoked his cigarette.

“Wow…” You said breathlessly as Sam finished his story.

There was a thick and awkward silence in the air, you gritted your teeth and you sharply inhaled.

“So…” Sam started. “I heard you got- I don’t know, married?”

There it was.

“Yup, for 12 years now, crazy right?” You replied, trying to act as chill as you could. A forced smiled spreading on your face.

“And a kid? I never really thought you’d settle for the normal life, [Y/N].” Sam joked.

There was something about the tone of his voice that sounded off. It was strained and has a pinch of distaste. Was he jealous? Another wave of agonizing silence commenced. The two of you just sat there next to each other, unwavering and tense. It wasn’t until Sam broke it once more.

“I regretted it.” He flatly stated.

“Regret what?” You answered.

Sam looked at his feet as he let out a shaky exhale.

“Leaving you.”

Then you looked at him with disbelief, and that hurt his feelings a bit (but he’s never going to admit it.)

He really didn’t really expect you to laugh out of the blue. Your trail of laughter faded as you slowly turned to face him with a genuine smile on your face.

“I told you so.”

“Told me what?”

“That Panama was a dangerous place.”

“Okay, alright. Fine, you were right.”

“Good.”

You scooted next to Sam and placed your head on his shoulder as you entwined your hand with his. Sam quickly placed his head upon yours, after a while of comfortable silence; he glanced at you and saw that you had a solemn expression plastered on your fragile face.

“I’m sorry.” You said.

Sam immediately ‘tsked’ his tongue as he kneeled in front of your and wiped the dripping tears staining your cheeks. He gave you a look that made you flinch a bit.

“It wasn’t your fault, baby girl.”

“Sam, I-“

“Mom? I’m home!”

The front door slammed closed, making both you and Sam jump in surprise. You turned your head around to see your son, Morgan, walking inside the living room. Morgan had a smile on his youthful face but quickly faded when he saw Sam. Shortly, he gave you a questioning look.

You cleared your throat and stood abruptly, Sam followed suit. You dusted imaginary dust off your clothes and wiped your cheeks then faced your son as you placed a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Morgan, sweetie-“You started. “This is Sam, an old friend of mine.” Sam held out his hand as he anxiously fixed his attention on Morgan, your son warily looked at him up and down; making Sam even more nervous. Nonetheless, he gripped his hand and gave it a firm shake. 

After short yet curt introductions, Morgan excused himself, as he wanted to finish homework early. You quickly dismissed him; resulting to him running up the stairs and into his room.

Sam tapped your shoulder, and you quickly met his warm gaze.

“I think I should go.”

“Yeah.”

--

“It was nice seeing you again, [Y/N]. Even though it was just for a short while.”

“I could say the same, Sammy.”

Sam gave you his signature grin and began to take his leave. It was like time suddenly became frozen. Your legs practically dragged you towards Sam’s direction.

Drake was shocked to see that you had your arms around his torso once more and your face nuzzling on his back. You look up and said.

“I’ll always love you, remember that.”

He chuckled and replied.

“Same here.”

He let go of you and went forward; not sparing you a second glance- Then, you never saw him again.

---

Runaway, runaway Turn around and Runaway, runaway Runaway, runaway But I can't tell you if you Runaway, runaway Turn around and runaway

Contains minor SPOILERS.

Cala Maria gif courtesy of @casioonaplasticbeach​.

The debut game of Studio MDHR is the completely hand drawn 1930s cartoon inspired Cuphead for the Xbox One and PC. Particularly the Fleischer Studios short starring Bimbo known as Swing You Sinners! (1930). For example, Cagney Carnation’s idle animation is one a ghost has in it. A later significant donnybrook borrows from that cartoon’s aesthetic and characters too. There’s visual grain filter and simulated 24 fps too! There’s a deliberate color inconsistency between Cuphead’s design and the hues for his victory screen: a commonality found with older cartoons. An Inkwell Isle II boss character speaks with a Porky Pig inspired stutter whilst possessing a moniker close to a famous animator’s (Grim Natwick). Natwick, in real life, spoke with a stutter, making a double reference to cartoon history. 

As a cartoon fanatic and a seeker of run and gun games, I had to check out Cuphead for sure! 

On Xbox One. 

My name is OrchardBlossom. 

Cuphead has been in development for seven years and is the final result of seven people animating it is beyond mind blowing. Their names are Chad Moldenhauser, Danielle Johnson, @jake-clark, Thomas “Smo” Smolenski, @habihanna, Joseph Coleman, and Tina Nawrocki. Take a bow y’all! *Throws roses, kisses, glitter, and confetti* 

Cuphead, is, as cliche as it sounds, a dream come true for me. 

The moment I tried the Sony Imagesoft (publisher) and Traveller’s Tales (developer) Sega Genesis game Mickey Mania in the early 90s, I’ve been relentlessly searching and totally craving another release that utilized hand drawn animation that pulls from classic cartoons. In it, Mickey Mouse can toss marbles at foes and his HP that’s represented by fingers on his glove is 5. The player goes from left to right avoiding by jumping over or trouncing adversaries. Mickey Mania’s opening level is the culturally and genre significant Steamboat Willie (1928) and a later one is a favorite of mine known as The Lonesome Ghosts (1937). Often I’d avoid enemies and not proceed so I could soak in the game’s distinctive visual aesthetic for a second longer. Similarly, I’d prolong a couple of clashes in Cuphead for that very same reason. Despite never winning against the final fight in that damned The Prince and the Pauper (1990) stage, that Mickey Mouse game still retains a special place in my heart. In fact, when taking a slight break from Cuphead I fired up my Sega to only lose against Captain Pete…Again. 

25% of Cuphead features run and gun stages that bring to mind Mega Man, Contra, Gunstar Heroes, Metal Slug, and Super Ghouls ‘n Ghosts. Your introductory HP is 3 and can be higher if you sacrifice the strength of your weapons via purchased charms. Charms are bought using Coins found in levels and around the hub islands of Inkwell Isle.

With this currency, charms or weaponry can be bought at Porkrind’s Emporium. For instance, the Smoke Bomb Charm makes your dodge waaaay more efficient. The Coffee Charm is ideal for plane boss battles since you cannot make your Shrink dodge any better in them: this allows you to obtain Super Arts of powered up techniques faster. Cuphead’s basic projectile weapon is known as the Peashooter. The boomerang-like Roundabout is your best bet against most bosses if you’re adept at facing the opposite and firing it. Chaser is a weak homing weapon that’s perfect for boss battles that require both tricky and constant dodging (like the final phase of queen bee Rumor Honeybottoms). Experiment with your six firing weapon selections and find what’s the most comfortable for you though. Remember that Cuphead and Mugman can fire while ducking/moving and their firing angle can be adjusted. 

Likewise, in a plane, one can use the gun or bombs. I didn’t realize this until late in the game, ha ha! 

The remaining 75% of Cuphead consists of brimming with personality and creativity boss battles alongside some toe-tapping worthy jazz-infused tracks. Cuphead is a game that takes patience, analyzing patterns, learning to properly parry (leads to the capability of utilizing stronger weapon moves and Super Art techniques), knowing when to stop firing versus dodge some more, ducking, and changing your weapon set or Super Arts when necessary. Now, it is possible to hold down the fire button and switch between weapons on the fly. I personally found it overwhelming, an additional challenge of sorts, that made it increasingly harder to accurately concentrate during either run and gun stages and boss battles.

So, in Cuphead, you will die a lot. I guarantee it. I died 1111 times beating it on Normal mode alone. I didn’t give up nor go above 3 HP. It was immensely satisfying when I won against everything. 

But I feel this by design: the game’s mechanics are solid and each time I lost I didn’t blame Cuphead since everything is clear. Trial and error is in the game’s DNA. Controls aren’t an issue essentially. They’re quite responsive, so each failure unquestionably feels like my fault. If an attack or enemy isn’t pink, it cannot be parried, so it must be avoided or slain. The directions in which bosses bombard you don’t change at all (besides after a phase alteration where new moves are still very much broadcast)…The order isn’t consistent however. And my advice is to always stay on guard. Sometimes, the smartest attack is to wait though. 

Whenever you do lose, a progress bar is unveiled about how dismal or great your overall performance was. Along with a taunting quote from a boss. Like Wally Warbles, a Woody Woodpecker colored bird says, “Even without my feathers, you’re in for stormy weather!” Talk about adding insult to injury! This actually compelled me to keep going. I wasn’t deterred because I learned from my errors and mistiming mistakes until I won. I can defeat some of the initially seemingly impossible boss battles without taking a hit now. 

In short, Cuphead is tough yet fair in my eyes.

Alas where it falters most is the usage of two boys as our protagonists. I get that is supposed to be a homage to Mickey Mouse (with a hint of Felix the Cat?) and the long forgotten Oswald the Lucky Rabbit with each sporting said famous character’s colors/gloves. That’s cool I guess.

Still, not Cuphead and his sister? Because it isn’t like Betty Boop isn’t that famous or anything right? Or how about neither a guy or girl? They’re anthropomorphic characters with a cup and a mug for heads! Why solely men…?

Cuphead is a tale of owing a debt to the Devil through gambling. They are forced to collect soul contracts from the lives of others the Devil and Dice King’s casino have corrupted. Or lose their own lives instead as grisly punishment. The minimalist plot is conveyed through a excellently done storybook motif. I prefer Cuphead’s bro Mugman who told him to stop gaming when the Devil challenged him.

Mugman’s the one I never get to play as. XD

Yes, despite the game creators (Chad and Jared Moldenhaur, brothers) stating Cuphead wanted to avoided a damsel in distress narrative as the main one a.k.a. a retro concept that should stop being the norm. However, there’s a small juxtaposition between this and Cuphead writer Evan Skolnick. In Cuphead, women are unfortunately in short supply. The most prominent recurring one (Legendary Chalice) is literally trapped and has to be saved to unlock the powerful Super Art abilities located in the Inkwell Isle Mausoleums. I mean our introduction to her in the game is the word “HELP” with an exclamation mark for emphasis. Saving her grants you more useful Super Arts that assist in stage and boss fights, but aren’t necessary to beat the game. To achieve victory, the player must parry all of the spectral threats to release the straw-halo spirit from a repeated prison thrice times throughout the course of your journey. 

For some reason, a celebatory background statue of her can be seen in Rugged Ridge, suggesting her character was once one of considerable prominence in this game’s world (or storyline I suggest). My real query is why the Legendary Chalice has “legendary” in her name in the first place? So, why couldn’t she of been similar to a Great Fairy from the Legend of Zelda series then? As the protagonist Link, you locate the Great Fairy fountains and she gives you something for the effort. Or what if the Mausoleum parry challenges were meant to prove that Cuphead and Mugman are worthy to own the sacred Super Arts Legendary Chalice has in her possession?  

I sincerely wish her character’s background had been suitably expanded on. Like maybe she sees potential in them for completing the Mausoleums in Inkwell.  Perhaps her role in the game could of had more meaning? How it stands with Legendary Chalice simply plays into a classic video game trope I’ve always loathed. The damsel in distress the Moldenhauser bros tried to not use. 

Others women talk to you in the hub world or ask for assistance in some way. Like a fish fishing, for one! How wonderfully weird. Is she a cannibal by chance?

What remains are bosses. Ahem, how few there are that is, yeah. Out of twenty plus bosses only seven feature women with five being the actual focus.

The introduction to planes battle has Hilda Berg: an Olive Oly zeppelin that transforms into the constellations Taurus and Sagittarius (they are coded/drawn as men) during the fight. Another is a drunken martini glass that’s part of an alcoholic beverage trio you might contend with. The Domino mini-boss has two halves: the top is a hat and bow while the bottom is a skirt with that same bow serving as hers. This half has distinct lashes and red heels as well. There’s the Betty Boop sound effect laden Cala Maria, the gigantic mermaid seen in each trailer for the game’s release. Sally Stageplay is the most memorable for me with her battle taking place in a theatre with a live audience: it opens with a wedding and has her theatre husband in the background not contributing to the fight while trying to take care of a baby. There’s the aforementioned Rumor Honeybottoms, in an intense scenario which pushes you to your platforming and parrying limits. My favorite in terms of concept to execution is in the Inkwell Isle II level Sugarland Shimmy! She is called Baroness von Bon Bon. 

Here’s an intriguing fact: the singer for the seemingly masculine Cab Calloway influenced antagonist Dice King is sung by Alana Bridgewater (her vocals are fantastic!).

All in all, I recommend Cuphead. The indie darling is an equally exhilarating and addictive game with a superb soundtrack to boot! On top of that, Cuphead’s nods to video games and animation history are an impeccable fusion I couldn’t get enough of. Cuphead’s fun and challenge is raised with a friend on-board for the surreal worth taking ride. You can revive your teammate for a price (they return with 1 HP left and any subsequent revivals become increasingly harder to pull off) through parrying their ghost or taking HP (Like a thief…Blargh. ) from one another upon dying in boss battles or levels.

Oh, there is indeed a lower difficulty, but the developers will sadly not let you truly finish the game if you select it. Bosses lack entire phases and overall health. Locking content in this manner does disappoint and irk me for those that desire the full Cuphead experience. Especially for those that are already put off by the game’s difficulty curve as a whole from the get-go. Since part of Cuphead’s joy is seeing so much creative and stunning animation lovingly crafted on display. Listening to new music. Drinking in the atmosphere prior to being killed for the umpteenth time due to miscalculating a parry or boss attack. This is lost for those that choose Simple. *Sighs despondently*

As are the game’s wonderful secrets I won’t divulge here. 

On the other hand, folks should give Simple Mode a gander to check out lost animation Normal and Hard Mode doesn’t have. ;)

A PSA for those seeking an A rank on the Run and Gun stage Funfair Fever! Um, there’s a glitch in the game that won’t allow this achievement. Meaning, you have to conquer it with a P (Pacifist: only parrying, no shooting) rank as an alternative. I spent hours attempting to secure an A rank to no avail until I succeeded with the P rank I needed towards earning a game secret. This has just been patched.

My recommendation for Cuphead would be loftier if gender representation had been better and Simple Mode had encompassed all of the game. It doesn’t. You’re mocked by Dice King and that doesn’t seem right to me. No one deserves to be made fun of for playing something that is meant to be purely entertainment.

My feelings towards the red skinned turban wearing genie magician guy in the game bother me as well. Like he’s time period accurate and ultimately offensive. Should of done some in-depth research before posting this. :(

P.S. Dr. Kahl, is named after animator Milt Kahl, but modeled after Sonic’s Dr. Ivo Robotnik and Mega Man’s Dr. Wily. You’ve been warned. So many deaths were caused by him. So. Many. Losses. *Shudders*

Faster than a calculator | Arthur Benjamin | TEDxOxford

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/faster-than-a-calculator-arthur-benjamin-tedxoxford/

Faster than a calculator | Arthur Benjamin | TEDxOxford

Translator: Mohammed Basheer Reviewer: Nadine Hennig excellent afternoon, women and gentlemen, my name is artwork Benjamin and i am a "mathemagician". What that implies is I combine my loves of math – or I will have to say maths – and magic to do what I name "mathemagics". However earlier than I get started, I’ve received a speedy question for the audience. With the aid of any risk, did any individual here within the audience happen to carry with them this afternoon a calculator? In case you have one, probably on your cellphone, or somewhere, and you are lovely comfortable using it, raise your hand. I will need a couple of people to help me out right here. I see one… Two… And might be yet another…Three. With the three of you, carry out your calculators and join me up right here on stage, and let’s provide these volunteers a first-rate circular of applause. Come on up. (Applause) first-class. Over on this side, please. Terrific. Considering that i’ve not had the hazard to work with these calculators, I must ensure that they are all working competently. Would somebody get us started with the aid of giving us a two-digit number, please? How a few two-digit number? Just yell one out. Viewers: 74. Arthur Benjamin: Oh, k. That’s high-quality! Seventy four And a further… How about an extra two-digit quantity? How about on this facet? Audience: 39.AB: 39. Multiply 74 occasions 39 on the calculator. Make sure you get 2,886, or the calculators usually are not working. Do every of you get 2,886? Give them a circular of applause! (Sighs) (Applause) i realized that took some of us a little bit of time to get the reply. That is adequate. I’m going to give you a shortcut for multiplying even turbo on the calculator. There’s something referred to as "the square of a quantity" which most of you understand is taking a quantity and multiplying it by way of itself. For example 5 squared can be…25. 6 squared would be… 36. 73 squared would be… Anything else. Yeah. (Laughter) On these kind of calculators, they’ve little shortcut buttons that permit you to rectangular numbers even faster. What i’m going to take a look at and do is to rectangular – and also you could experiment it – make sure you might square 5 – 6 with it, however what i’m going to take a look at and do is to square in my head, three two-digit numbers turbo than they may be able to do on their calculators, even utilizing the shortcut system.But i’m going to ask these three humans within the 1/3 row – one, two, three. Each and every yell out a two-digit quantity, and if you happen to would square the primary one, the 2nd, and the 1/3 one, i will attempt to race you to the reply. So speedily a two-digit number, please? Audience: 24. Arthur Benjamin: 24, nice, subsequent… What was that? Viewers: ninety eight. AB: 98… And one more… Viewers: 26. AB: 26. Would you call out your answers, please? First volunteer: 576. AB: 576. 2nd volunteer: 9,604. AB: 9,604. Third volunteer: 676. AB: 676. Provide them a round of applause! (Applause) Let me attempt to take this one step extra. I am going to try to square some three-digit numbers. This time, I is not going to even write these down. I’ll just name them out as they’re referred to as out to me. Anyone in any respect call out a three-digit number, any person on our panel verify the reply. If I get the reply correct, provide me a large thumbs up. If I make a mistake, let me be aware of, and i will attempt to fix it. A 3-digit quantity, anybody? Viewers: 576. AB: 576 is 331,776? 2nd volunteer: yes. AB: sure? Good! How about yet another three-digit quantity, sir! A three-digit quantity? Audience: 103.AB: 103 is 10,609. Means too effortless! Yet another three-digit number, please? Viewers: one hundred twenty five. AB: 125 is 15,625, but that’s 5 to the sixth energy, in order that used to be handy too. How about yet another three-digit number, sir? Viewers: 985. AB: 985 is 970,225. Sure, thumbs up, if it can be correct. One other three-digit quantity, sir? Audience: 926. AB: 926 is 857,476? Thank you very a lot. (Applause) (Sighs) (Applause) Let me attempt to take this one step further. I am going to check out to square a 4-digit number this time, i’m not going to beat you to the answer on this one, however i’ll try to get the reply proper.To make this a bit bit extra random, how about we use the fourth row, four people. Each and every of you calls out a single-digit number between zero and nine, so as to be a 4-digit number that i will rectangular. One, five, Seven, Seven. 1, 5, 7, 7, this may occasionally take me a little bit of time, so endure with me – three million – (Sighs) (Laughter) 486,929? No? Adequate, dont tell me. The quantity was once 1, 5, 7, 7. Oh, wait! Three million – to this point so excellent? Oh, is that had been I went fallacious? I on no account make a mistake, wait. Oh. 2 million, used to be everything else proper? Volunteer: sure! AB: thank you very a lot. (Laughter) What’s 1,000,000 off? That’s all I ask. (Applause) Now i would attempt to rectangular a 5-digit quantity, and i can.But alas, most calculators can not. So, due to the fact that we’ve got reached the limits of our calculators, even though a few of yours may go higher, i’m going to take a look at to conclude the first a part of my show, through trying something even trickier. Let’s take the primary quantity on the board here: 576. Would you every enter 576 in your calculator? And instead of squaring it this time, i might such as you to take that quantity and multiply it with the aid of any 4-digit number that you want. But do not make it too effortless like 1,000 or 1234, however just some random four-digit number. So that you should have as an answer either a six-digit or very likely a seven-digit quantity.How many digits are to your reply, six or seven digits? Seven. Seven. Six. Is there any feasible way that I might recognize what six or seven-digit numbers they have got? Say "No". Audience: No. AB: excellent. Then I shall attempt the inconceivable, or at the least the inconceivable. What i might like each and every of you to do is to name out for me any six of your seven digits, or in your case five of your six digits in any order you do like. One digit at a time, I shall attempt to determine the digit you have not noted. So opening with your six-digit quantity, call out any five of them please. First volunteer: 8, 0, 9, three, 8. AB: eight, zero, 9, three, 8, did you go away out the quantity 8? Sure, that’s one. You’ve gotten received seven-digit quantity. Name out any six of yours, loud and clear. Second volunteer: four, 7, 2, 5, eight, 4. AB: Did you depart out the number six? AB: that is two. The odds of me getting all three of those correct by means of pure guessing could be one in 1,000: 10 to the 0.33 vigor.Good enough, any six of your digits. Really scramble them up this time. Third volunteer: 9, 4, 4, 5, 4, 4. AB: Did you also leave out the number six? Volunteer: sure. AB: fine, and let’s provide all three of these folks a quality round of applause. Thanks very much. (Applause). For my subsequent number… (Laughter) i have a further question for the audience. By any threat, does any individual here occur to know the day of the week that they have been born on? If you think your precise birthday, raise your hand. Starting with you. What 12 months if I may? Audience: 1992. AB: 1992, and what month? Audience: July.AB: July what? Third. Used to be that a Friday? Viewers: sure. AB: sure, satisfactory. Anyone else? Yes sir, inexperienced shirt. What year? Viewers: 1992 AB: 1992, and the month? Audience: June. AB: June what? Audience: thirtieth. AB: A Tuesday? Audience: sure. AB: high-quality. An individual else, how about you? What yr? Viewers: 1995. AB: i’m sorry sir, what yr was once it? Viewers: 1995. AB: 1995 and what month? Viewers: June. AB: June what? Audience: twenty sixth. AB: twenty sixth. Was once that a Monday? Viewers: sure. AB: first-class. I see a hand up in the balcony, a younger woman. I will are attempting something distinctive here. In case you are definite of your birthday, what 12 months was it? What day of the week was once it? Inform me prematurely the day of the week. Viewers: Thursday. Audience: 2002. AB: 2002. Did it occur to be on may just 2nd? Audience: sure.AB: yes, but that is my daughter, I knew that one. (Laughter) I used to be there for that, on that Thursday. Anyway, I on no account tried that before. Do we have any one here who does not be aware of the day of the week they had been born on however wish to discover? Adequate, now let’s see. I’m going to see yours. Now, of course, if you don’t know what it is, I might simply make up an reply and you’ll frequently think me. However I don’t need you to ought to do this, so I come all set for that obstacle. There’s an app for the whole thing this present day. So, i’ll ask certainly one of you here simply to take this and… So give us your 12 months after which kind within the yr in that blank field. What yr? Viewers: 1995. AB: 1995. So form in 1995. Quality. And what month? Viewers: September. AB: September. Press the September button there. And that must provide the calendar. September what? Audience: 21st. AB: twenty first. I consider, it was a Thursday. Do we get affirmation? It used to be Thursday. Good. I’ll inform you what, due to the fact you’ve gotten the app with you, let’s are attempting some thing trickier.The app definitely goes as a ways into the longer term as 3000, as far back into the prior as 1600. Do not go below 1600. Then we get off the Gregorian calendar and that messes me up a bit. (Laughter) So, what yr would you adore? Select a yr between 1600 and 3000. Go forward. Viewers: 2730. AB: 2730. So enter 2730 into that. And what month would you love? Audience: June. AB: June what? Viewers: thirteenth.AB: thirteen, will that be a Friday? Audience: sure. AB: yes, and it should be cloudy on that day too If i am not flawed. Thanks very much. (Applause) in fact, someone else who wishes to discover their birthday, see me in the foyer, maybe within the spoil, i will be more than happy to inform you. Now, just a little bit of time left so i would love to do one last factor for you that I alluded to prior after we had the other calculators on stage. I’m going to check out to rectangular a 5-digit quantity, requiring if you have a ten-digit calculator or greater. Fell free to bring out your calculator at this factor. But to make my job extra exciting for you as good as for me, I going to try this final problem pondering out loud, so that you can truely honestly hear what is going on in my mind, whilst I do a calculation of this measurement. Let’s create a five-digit quantity.Why we simply go up to this aisle, the first five folks alongside the aisle, each gives me a single-digit, as a way to be my 5-digit quantity. Three. Seven. Six. 9. One. 37,691 squared. Yuck! Let me give an explanation for to you how i will strive this hindrance. I will smash the crisis down into three materials. I will do 37,000 squared, plus, 691 squared, plus, 37,000 occasions 691 instances 2. Add all these numbers collectively and hopefully arrive at the answer. Now, let me provide an explanation for one other factor. Even as I do this calculation you might hear precise words, as opposed to numbers, creep into the calculation.Let me provide an explanation for what that’s. This is a phonetic code, a mnemonic device that i use, that permits me to transform numbers into words. I store them as words, and in a while retrieve them as numbers. I know it sounds problematic, it can be now not. I just don’t want you to believe, you’re seeing anything out of "Rain Man" here. (Laughter) there is most likely a process to my insanity – undoubtedly, undoubtedly. Sorry. (Laughter) One final guideline for my judges with calculators. Now who has acquired an answer in entrance, lift your hand. Okay, sufficient of you. There is a 50% risk that i’ll make a mistake on this challenge. If I do, don’t inform me what the mistake is, simply say, "you are close or some thing," and i’ll try to determine it out which could be beautiful entertaining in itself. If, nonetheless, i’m correct, whatever you do, don’t keep it to yourselves. Make certain everybody is aware of that I acquired the reply proper, on the grounds that that is my big finish, ok? So, without any more stalling, here we go.I will start the predicament within the center, with 37 instances 691. Now, let’s have a look at – Oh my gosh – so that’s 700 minus 9 i’ll take skills on that, 700 occasions 37 is 25,a hundred. 37 instances 9 is 333, subtract the 2 to get 25,567. 25,000 – do I consider that, yeah – 25,567 double that to get 51,134. – 51,134 ok – 51,000 turns into late day after today, late day after today is fifty one,134. That appears proper, i’m going to go on. Subsequent, I do 37 squared which is 1,369, so i can say 1 billion. Take the 369 add that to mild. Is there going to be ??? 369 add that to mild to get 420 million. The next day, the following day, ok. Subsequent, we do 691 squared that seven-hundred times 682, plus 9 squared that’s 477,481. Raft, if i need it, raft, take the 477, add that to the following day to get 611,481? Viewers: Yeah! (Applause). AB: yes, good. Thanks all very so much. I am hoping you loved mathemagics. I am Arthur Benjamin. Thank you. (Applause) .

Faster than a calculator | Arthur Benjamin | TEDxOxford

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/faster-than-a-calculator-arthur-benjamin-tedxoxford/

Faster than a calculator | Arthur Benjamin | TEDxOxford

Translator: Mohammed Basheer Reviewer: Nadine Hennig excellent afternoon, women and gentlemen, my name is artwork Benjamin and i am a "mathemagician". What that implies is I combine my loves of math – or I will have to say maths – and magic to do what I name "mathemagics". However earlier than I get started, I’ve received a speedy question for the audience. With the aid of any risk, did any individual here within the audience happen to carry with them this afternoon a calculator? In case you have one, probably on your cellphone, or somewhere, and you are lovely comfortable using it, raise your hand. I will need a couple of people to help me out right here. I see one… Two… And might be yet another…Three. With the three of you, carry out your calculators and join me up right here on stage, and let’s provide these volunteers a first-rate circular of applause. Come on up. (Applause) first-class. Over on this side, please. Terrific. Considering that i’ve not had the hazard to work with these calculators, I must ensure that they are all working competently. Would somebody get us started with the aid of giving us a two-digit number, please? How a few two-digit number? Just yell one out. Viewers: 74. Arthur Benjamin: Oh, k. That’s high-quality! Seventy four And a further… How about an extra two-digit quantity? How about on this facet? Audience: 39.AB: 39. Multiply 74 occasions 39 on the calculator. Make sure you get 2,886, or the calculators usually are not working. Do every of you get 2,886? Give them a circular of applause! (Sighs) (Applause) i realized that took some of us a little bit of time to get the reply. That is adequate. I’m going to give you a shortcut for multiplying even turbo on the calculator. There’s something referred to as "the square of a quantity" which most of you understand is taking a quantity and multiplying it by way of itself. For example 5 squared can be…25. 6 squared would be… 36. 73 squared would be… Anything else. Yeah. (Laughter) On these kind of calculators, they’ve little shortcut buttons that permit you to rectangular numbers even faster. What i’m going to take a look at and do is to rectangular – and also you could experiment it – make sure you might square 5 – 6 with it, however what i’m going to take a look at and do is to square in my head, three two-digit numbers turbo than they may be able to do on their calculators, even utilizing the shortcut system.But i’m going to ask these three humans within the 1/3 row – one, two, three. Each and every yell out a two-digit quantity, and if you happen to would square the primary one, the 2nd, and the 1/3 one, i will attempt to race you to the reply. So speedily a two-digit number, please? Audience: 24. Arthur Benjamin: 24, nice, subsequent… What was that? Viewers: ninety eight. AB: 98… And one more… Viewers: 26. AB: 26. Would you call out your answers, please? First volunteer: 576. AB: 576. 2nd volunteer: 9,604. AB: 9,604. Third volunteer: 676. AB: 676. Provide them a round of applause! (Applause) Let me attempt to take this one step extra. I am going to try to square some three-digit numbers. This time, I is not going to even write these down. I’ll just name them out as they’re referred to as out to me. Anyone in any respect call out a three-digit number, any person on our panel verify the reply. If I get the reply correct, provide me a large thumbs up. If I make a mistake, let me be aware of, and i will attempt to fix it. A 3-digit quantity, anybody? Viewers: 576. AB: 576 is 331,776? 2nd volunteer: yes. AB: sure? Good! How about yet another three-digit quantity, sir! A three-digit quantity? Audience: 103.AB: 103 is 10,609. Means too effortless! Yet another three-digit number, please? Viewers: one hundred twenty five. AB: 125 is 15,625, but that’s 5 to the sixth energy, in order that used to be handy too. How about yet another three-digit number, sir? Viewers: 985. AB: 985 is 970,225. Sure, thumbs up, if it can be correct. One other three-digit quantity, sir? Audience: 926. AB: 926 is 857,476? Thank you very a lot. (Applause) (Sighs) (Applause) Let me attempt to take this one step further. I am going to check out to square a 4-digit number this time, i’m not going to beat you to the answer on this one, however i’ll try to get the reply proper.To make this a bit bit extra random, how about we use the fourth row, four people. Each and every of you calls out a single-digit number between zero and nine, so as to be a 4-digit number that i will rectangular. One, five, Seven, Seven. 1, 5, 7, 7, this may occasionally take me a little bit of time, so endure with me – three million – (Sighs) (Laughter) 486,929? No? Adequate, dont tell me. The quantity was once 1, 5, 7, 7. Oh, wait! Three million – to this point so excellent? Oh, is that had been I went fallacious? I on no account make a mistake, wait. Oh. 2 million, used to be everything else proper? Volunteer: sure! AB: thank you very a lot. (Laughter) What’s 1,000,000 off? That’s all I ask. (Applause) Now i would attempt to rectangular a 5-digit quantity, and i can.But alas, most calculators can not. So, due to the fact that we’ve got reached the limits of our calculators, even though a few of yours may go higher, i’m going to take a look at to conclude the first a part of my show, through trying something even trickier. Let’s take the primary quantity on the board here: 576. Would you every enter 576 in your calculator? And instead of squaring it this time, i might such as you to take that quantity and multiply it with the aid of any 4-digit number that you want. But do not make it too effortless like 1,000 or 1234, however just some random four-digit number. So that you should have as an answer either a six-digit or very likely a seven-digit quantity.How many digits are to your reply, six or seven digits? Seven. Seven. Six. Is there any feasible way that I might recognize what six or seven-digit numbers they have got? Say "No". Audience: No. AB: excellent. Then I shall attempt the inconceivable, or at the least the inconceivable. What i might like each and every of you to do is to name out for me any six of your seven digits, or in your case five of your six digits in any order you do like. One digit at a time, I shall attempt to determine the digit you have not noted. So opening with your six-digit quantity, call out any five of them please. First volunteer: 8, 0, 9, three, 8. AB: eight, zero, 9, three, 8, did you go away out the quantity 8? Sure, that’s one. You’ve gotten received seven-digit quantity. Name out any six of yours, loud and clear. Second volunteer: four, 7, 2, 5, eight, 4. AB: Did you depart out the number six? AB: that is two. The odds of me getting all three of those correct by means of pure guessing could be one in 1,000: 10 to the 0.33 vigor.Good enough, any six of your digits. Really scramble them up this time. Third volunteer: 9, 4, 4, 5, 4, 4. AB: Did you also leave out the number six? Volunteer: sure. AB: fine, and let’s provide all three of these folks a quality round of applause. Thanks very much. (Applause). For my subsequent number… (Laughter) i have a further question for the audience. By any threat, does any individual here occur to know the day of the week that they have been born on? If you think your precise birthday, raise your hand. Starting with you. What 12 months if I may? Audience: 1992. AB: 1992, and what month? Audience: July.AB: July what? Third. Used to be that a Friday? Viewers: sure. AB: sure, satisfactory. Anyone else? Yes sir, inexperienced shirt. What year? Viewers: 1992 AB: 1992, and the month? Audience: June. AB: June what? Audience: thirtieth. AB: A Tuesday? Audience: sure. AB: high-quality. An individual else, how about you? What yr? Viewers: 1995. AB: i’m sorry sir, what yr was once it? Viewers: 1995. AB: 1995 and what month? Viewers: June. AB: June what? Audience: twenty sixth. AB: twenty sixth. Was once that a Monday? Viewers: sure. AB: first-class. I see a hand up in the balcony, a younger woman. I will are attempting something distinctive here. In case you are definite of your birthday, what 12 months was it? What day of the week was once it? Inform me prematurely the day of the week. Viewers: Thursday. Audience: 2002. AB: 2002. Did it occur to be on may just 2nd? Audience: sure.AB: yes, but that is my daughter, I knew that one. (Laughter) I used to be there for that, on that Thursday. Anyway, I on no account tried that before. Do we have any one here who does not be aware of the day of the week they had been born on however wish to discover? Adequate, now let’s see. I’m going to see yours. Now, of course, if you don’t know what it is, I might simply make up an reply and you’ll frequently think me. However I don’t need you to ought to do this, so I come all set for that obstacle. There’s an app for the whole thing this present day. So, i’ll ask certainly one of you here simply to take this and… So give us your 12 months after which kind within the yr in that blank field. What yr? Viewers: 1995. AB: 1995. So form in 1995. Quality. And what month? Viewers: September. AB: September. Press the September button there. And that must provide the calendar. September what? Audience: 21st. AB: twenty first. I consider, it was a Thursday. Do we get affirmation? It used to be Thursday. Good. I’ll inform you what, due to the fact you’ve gotten the app with you, let’s are attempting some thing trickier.The app definitely goes as a ways into the longer term as 3000, as far back into the prior as 1600. Do not go below 1600. Then we get off the Gregorian calendar and that messes me up a bit. (Laughter) So, what yr would you adore? Select a yr between 1600 and 3000. Go forward. Viewers: 2730. AB: 2730. So enter 2730 into that. And what month would you love? Audience: June. AB: June what? Viewers: thirteenth.AB: thirteen, will that be a Friday? Audience: sure. AB: yes, and it should be cloudy on that day too If i am not flawed. Thanks very much. (Applause) in fact, someone else who wishes to discover their birthday, see me in the foyer, maybe within the spoil, i will be more than happy to inform you. Now, just a little bit of time left so i would love to do one last factor for you that I alluded to prior after we had the other calculators on stage. I’m going to check out to rectangular a 5-digit quantity, requiring if you have a ten-digit calculator or greater. Fell free to bring out your calculator at this factor. But to make my job extra exciting for you as good as for me, I going to try this final problem pondering out loud, so that you can truely honestly hear what is going on in my mind, whilst I do a calculation of this measurement. Let’s create a five-digit quantity.Why we simply go up to this aisle, the first five folks alongside the aisle, each gives me a single-digit, as a way to be my 5-digit quantity. Three. Seven. Six. 9. One. 37,691 squared. Yuck! Let me give an explanation for to you how i will strive this hindrance. I will smash the crisis down into three materials. I will do 37,000 squared, plus, 691 squared, plus, 37,000 occasions 691 instances 2. Add all these numbers collectively and hopefully arrive at the answer. Now, let me provide an explanation for one other factor. Even as I do this calculation you might hear precise words, as opposed to numbers, creep into the calculation.Let me provide an explanation for what that’s. This is a phonetic code, a mnemonic device that i use, that permits me to transform numbers into words. I store them as words, and in a while retrieve them as numbers. I know it sounds problematic, it can be now not. I just don’t want you to believe, you’re seeing anything out of "Rain Man" here. (Laughter) there is most likely a process to my insanity – undoubtedly, undoubtedly. Sorry. (Laughter) One final guideline for my judges with calculators. Now who has acquired an answer in entrance, lift your hand. Okay, sufficient of you. There is a 50% risk that i’ll make a mistake on this challenge. If I do, don’t inform me what the mistake is, simply say, "you are close or some thing," and i’ll try to determine it out which could be beautiful entertaining in itself. If, nonetheless, i’m correct, whatever you do, don’t keep it to yourselves. Make certain everybody is aware of that I acquired the reply proper, on the grounds that that is my big finish, ok? So, without any more stalling, here we go.I will start the predicament within the center, with 37 instances 691. Now, let’s have a look at – Oh my gosh – so that’s 700 minus 9 i’ll take skills on that, 700 occasions 37 is 25,a hundred. 37 instances 9 is 333, subtract the 2 to get 25,567. 25,000 – do I consider that, yeah – 25,567 double that to get 51,134. – 51,134 ok – 51,000 turns into late day after today, late day after today is fifty one,134. That appears proper, i’m going to go on. Subsequent, I do 37 squared which is 1,369, so i can say 1 billion. Take the 369 add that to mild. Is there going to be ??? 369 add that to mild to get 420 million. The next day, the following day, ok. Subsequent, we do 691 squared that seven-hundred times 682, plus 9 squared that’s 477,481. Raft, if i need it, raft, take the 477, add that to the following day to get 611,481? Viewers: Yeah! (Applause). AB: yes, good. Thanks all very so much. I am hoping you loved mathemagics. I am Arthur Benjamin. Thank you. (Applause) .