#but for me to ever be okay with moe's fate. it probably needs that one necessary tragedy.

[moe-broey]

Although. I say "there is no pet death", but. The only way I am ever going to cope with Moe being isekai'd quite possibly never to return, WHILE having a beloved creature it has had since it was a child. The only way I am ever going to cope with that is if, the Lulu of its world lived a long, spoiled life, where she had everything she could have possibly needed in her old age ESPECIALLY when she got arthritis and all her bones hurt especially when it's cold so she has a heated bed and she takes meds and supplements and. Well. You know the rest. I shan't say more, Lulu of my world is like PROBABLY 18 or 19 I have literally never kept track BUT I've had her since she was a kitten and I was in 2nd grade (? Maybe 8?) and I just refuse to think about it LMFAOOO

[gaienenkidou]

Hi! Thoughts on Enkidu's Arcade Route, and the others you've played or watched?

hihi! thank you for giving me an excuse to talk abt the uni2 arcade stuff hehe <:3 everyone's being hush hush abt it for the first month (understandable) but ive been itchingggg to talk about it! sorry for this response taking a day or two a big update for arcaea dropped when uni2 dropped and i was super occupied with that. uni2 spoiler under the cut obviously so youve been warned of the spoiler boogeyman okay? okay!!!!

i'm just gonna talk about the arcade routes that really interested me which is just codeword for amnesia and a select few Sorry to any orie fans or carmine fans or anyone i don't mention here (though carmine becoming a rebirth was interesting)

ENKIDU:

first things first. i wont lie i meowed at the screen when i saw enkidu got long hair in the ending cg. i already like enkidu for obvious reasons (he's hot and my type. most normal comphet videogame crush.) but then give him long hair and i'm like bouncing up and down my chair squealing and crying and throwing up!!!!! damn you yoshihara!!!! (shaking my fists)

the arcade route itself however seemed to imply and bring up a lot of interesting things about his power. they seem to hint at the power deep inside him is not even related to anything in the under night lore at all and its just his OWN thing he's dealing with which is really really cool to think about but since he's a lesser popular side character we will probably never get a satisfactory elaboration on it. great! i saw the person who's uploaded all the arcade modes say that the "demon" he addresses could have been inside of him from day one and is not something related to exs and in-birth turning and is not an inverse version of him, and i think that's a really cool working theory, also re-contextualizes the whole "body being so strong voids can barely pierce it" because voidlike exs cant fit in there if you have like, A Literal Fucking Demon inside of you. really taking advantage of the clear kouma expy... the demon inside of him takes over him very obviously in the ending which :( enki...i could save him...enkidu's story (at least in chronicle mode) has always had this underlying tone of depression but also being the stoic and less emotional fronting Martial Artist Fighting Game Character he has some form of uncertainty of dealing with those emotions beyond the art of fighting (insert the autistic individual enkidu picture here.) in uni2 arcade though he expresses the fact that he can't let the world end even if it is so tainted, albeit for his own answers, but he has a very genuine approach to the fate of kanzakai...i like to think he was starting to truly enjoy being apart of the world ever since the unib shenanigans started and gordeau's ending clearly shows that he does genuinely like being around amnesia and is a tease about it. deep down i think he really cares about the "tainted world" though his stoic disposition doesn't allow him to emote that well and thats just pure old man moe and i need more of it. but man the fact that he turns into a warded off demon to continue to live in that world is cruel irony...but a very interesting way to show his (presumable) development. fpan please for the love of god just give us that chronicle mode patch i need more of him you're implying so much cool shit emotionally and physically about him but RESTRICTING IT TO ARCADE ROUTES GRAHHH

half of this might just be insane delusioned interpretations but what am i if not tumblr user gaienenkidou, master enkidu scholar! tldr it was in an unexpected angle but also REALLY cool to muse about. i expected fpan to neglect any development for him in the first place but i came out with more answers and questions about him so for an enkidu liker like myself i'm pleased. could be better but pleased. At least out of the suffering he got a for realsies command grab move. now the next question is will 66c be fun again

KAGUYA:

don't have a whole essay about miss jinguu like enkidu thank god but when uni2 announcements dropped i was so fucking fixated on kaguya i am INCREDIBLY happy they made her playable finally, i imagine she's been in spriting development hell since she's had a shitton of placeholders from what i remember. the tsurugi pick is cool too but KAGUYA!!!!! I LOVE HIME CUT GIRLS WITH BIG BOOBS!!!!

her ending cg makes me feel a lot of emotions particularly about being attracted to women. she's so pretty. i'm incredibly interested in where she'll go from here since they scrapped her being from a wealthy family and being the ditzy sheltered rich girl to being an orphan with a dark past just posing as that exact trope. implications of her effect on licht kreis lore particularly silvaria are also cool to think about because licht kreis lore goes from really interesting to soul crushingly boring sometimes. her creepy loner girl to hime pipeline...she's perfect to me. love you kaguya mwah GORDEAU:

when i saw the description on a video of gordeau's arcade mode say he secured the good ending i was expecting something bittersweet BUT I WASN'T EXPECTING ROGER TO COME BACK EVEN THOUGH I FELT LIKE I SHOULD :') i think thats because i was expecting some sort of narrative where gordeau learns to kinda let go of it and just chill out with amnesia because i mean they're his homies too. thought he would have an arc in his arcade based on that but i think the indomitable and selfless spirit angle leading to him getting roger back is also pretty decent as well! no complaints. i wonder if theyre implying roger could be playable in the future but unlike ogre mmmm ehhh there's better npcs that deserve that first and roger isn't really striking, he always struck me as the guy there for a narrative purpose for gordeau (and amnesia.) his design is cool but less remarkable than like...londrekia when he was just a chronicles mode guy or azel/mercedes or uzuki when she was an arcade exclusive talk sprite. we'll see! :D

HILDA: don't have a lot to say cuz yeah that's about what i expected but She deserves it in my opinion hell yeah girl. really cool of them to use the insect ideas from ageha-chou (sorry i'm not saying the whole scientific name i'll malfunction) in her rebirth design. i want to touch her feelers.... CHAOS:

not a bunch to say again but thank you chaos for being the guy consistently advancing the lore and any terminology yet again sir yes sir oorah

BYAKUYA/STRIX:

yuri lives on...kind of really anticlimatic and i feel like there should've been more buildup but it just kind of happens...? but it might be just because the way uni tells story through arcade mode makes it feel. using sprites to tell the story like mbtl would've REALLLLY helped here, uni2 is already built off of mbtl's version of their engine lolol. nonetheless i am happy for strix. seems they kinda soft deconfirmed the idea of them not being playable since byakuya broke both their vessels so they can just be regular people again but WHO KNOWS ANYMORE since ogre is back anything can go at this point

a lot of my thoughts funnily enough aren't completely abt uni2 though. ive never been the biggest fan of byakuya and even now i'm pretty flatly neutral to him but brushing up on his chronicle mode before uni2 dropped man. i just feel bad for him. he deserves friends and something else to be around other than his sister and fragments of her. hes like only in junior high he should be making a school festival with people and enrolling in clubs. his mia status in uni2 just makes it worse. give him a break jesus christ

MERKAVA:

already a fan of merkava's void design but.........oh my god he's so pretty for no reason? what the fuck? they could've easily fumbled a human merkava and making him somehow less cooler and appealing than the obviously more interesting void design but i like human merk. still a bit inferior to typical merk though.

MIKA:

love and peace and happiness. mika so cute. not really much i have to say for her but i main her with enkidu so i didn't want to not mention her. she's my baby

WALDSTEIN: AND JUST LET HIM FUCKING DIE!!@?!@?>!@?> i mean its EXPECTED but what the fuck i was a waldstein shooter. do you know how many people actually LIKE WALDSTEIN. you can count it on one hand INCLUDING ME. i wanted more of himmmm out of everyone he deserved a slice of life ending. impactful nonetheless though. i am in fact a big fan of the oddly attractive (subjective) grandpa. ending cg is adorable but jesus adelheid is smaller than i expected and that's while being aware that she's gonna naturally look smaller beside wald.

LONDREKIA:

i do...not have a lot to say on londrekia's story to be honest except the ending was really fucking dorky in a cute way. really i just wanted this section so i can say hes so stupid and moe and i like him. i really warmed up to him over the course of seven years. i used to be so neutral towards his existence when not paired with merk but nowadays he's one of my favorites. i often do not like anime white boys but he is SO SO SO COMICALLY WHITE that it's charming. i think him becoming playable aided in that though because oh my god. oh my god. he's such a loser and i want to playfully tease him for it

uhh i think that's all my thoughts? oh wait yeah phonana mentioned. ok now im done. sorry for the 3 page long analysis as a uni fan its second nature to take their microscopic small implications and go crazy over the crumbs when it comes to the story. gameplay still looks peak as hell though would expect no less from fpan. excited to get the game soon :3

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 26

Last time, Gold started to suspect that Neal might be his long-lost son. Here's what happened next

[AO3]

-

Belle left hospital the next day, Gideon strapped to her chest in a sling while Gold wheeled the suitcase beside her. The day was pleasantly warm, sun on her face as she walked to the car, and it felt good to be out in the fresh air and away from the hospital, with its hurrying staff and constant noise. She was still in pain, and far more tired than she had expected to be, but she stopped off in the lobby of the apartment building to let Marco coo over Gideon and comment on how much he looked like his father. Gold had a tiny smile on his face all the way up in the elevator.

It was a relief to sleep in what she now thought of as their bed, Gold spooned around her and his scent in her nose. Gideon woke them in the night, but Gold kissed her shoulder and whispered that she should rest. She still lay awake listening anxiously until he got back into bed and assured her that Gideon was fed, changed and sleeping again. There was an urge to go and check on him herself, but she told herself firmly to trust Gold to take care of his son, and her body was tired and sore enough that she soon drifted off.

Gold woke early, just as dawn was greying the sky, and tiptoed from the room to make a pot of coffee and check in on Gideon. Quiet as he was, Belle was stirring when he put his head around the bedroom door, and so he handed Gideon to her to feed before returning to the kitchen to pour out the coffee and make a hearty breakfast.

The first few days were hectic as they tried to adjust to their new life, establishing as much of a routine for Gideon as they could. Gold was enjoying being a father again, and fully intended to do the best job he could. Belle was clearly exhausted, and so he tried to ease the burden as much as possible, letting her nap with Gideon while he cleaned up, made dinner and baked. In between his chores, he dealt with work matters, giving instructions to Mr Dove in relation to rent or enforcement matters, assessing collateral for loans over video calls and countersigning a new tenancy agreement. He got up to feed and change Gideon in the middle of the night, hoping that Belle would get some much-needed rest. A small voice at the back of his mind told him that he, too, needed to rest, but sleep was elusive and his mind far too preoccupied to notice his building exhaustion.

He had been a ball of nervous energy ever since he and Belle had had the conversation about Neal. Getting his family settled into their home held his attention for the daylight hours, but once he was lying in bed, his mind was let loose to agonise over every possible worst case scenario it could dream up. The day after their return he was alert to every noise outside the apartment, every suggestion that a knock might sound and the Cassidys be outside. The knock never came, and over dinner the following evening, Belle mentioned that she had received a text from Emma. Henry had developed a bad cold, and Neal and Emma thought it best that they not visit and run the risk of passing it on to Gideon.

“I’m sorry he’s not well,” said Gold, an odd mixture of despair and relief rippling through him and pricking at his skin. “I’m sure they’ll come over soon. I’ll make a carrot cake this weekend. Maybe some chocolate cupcakes. Just in case they show up.”

Belle gave him a level look, as though she wasn’t fooled by his easy tone. She probably wasn’t.

“This must be hard for you,” she said quietly, and Gold put down his fork, abandoning his pretence at equilibrium.

“I still don’t know what the hell I’m gonna say to him,” he admitted. “How do I even raise the subject? Cupcake, Neal? Oh, by the way, did your mother ever mention that your father was Scottish? Kind of short? Me?”

He grimaced, running his hands over his face, and stilled at the warm pressure of Belle’s hand on his arm. He spread his fingers to gaze out through them into calm blue eyes.

“There isn’t going to be an easy way to do this,” she said gently. “But you could always try talking about your past, see if anything resonates with him.”

The fingers snapped shut, hiding her from his sight, and Gold sighed heavily before dropping his hands back to the table and sitting back.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That seems - more natural, I suppose.”

“You could always ask Archie for advice,” she suggested, and he nodded.

“That’s true. Although we don’t know whether there’s anything there to ask advice about yet.”

“I suppose.”

“If there is…” Gold sat forwards again, threading his fingers together nervously. “If there is, if Neal really is my son, I have a feeling Dr Hopper will be seeing a lot more of my money.”

Belle smiled, squeezing his arm again.

“A worthy investment, wouldn’t you say?”

“If it gets me a good relationship with my family, absolutely.” He gave her a tiny smile, and she beamed, her eyes gleaming.

“It’s already doing that,” she said softly. “I’m proud of you. Facing your pain, your past, your fears… it’s a brave thing to do.”

He smiled, her words making his heart swell with love, even as he endured the discomfort of unexpected praise.

“Well, I have many years of cowardice to make up for,” he said, with an awkward smile.

Belle gave him a somewhat sad smile in return before sitting back, and there was a moment of silence. He picked up his fork again, cutting into the slice of almond cake and spearing it with the tines.

“What about you?” he asked. “Did your father say when he’d be visiting?”

Belle nodded as she cut a piece of her own cake.

“He said next Monday,” she said. “It’s usually a slow day in the shop, so he’s gonna close up at noon after he’s dealt with the flower delivery, and drive down. We’re planning to meet at four-thirty.”

“Ah.” Gold popped the piece of cake into his mouth, enjoying the soft sweetness of ground almonds and the tang of orange zest. “Well, he’s welcome to stay, of course.”

Belle eyed him over her fork, but shook her head.

“He’s only coming down for the day, and to be honest I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “I said I’d meet him at the diner by the park, and I think it’s best if it’s just me and Gideon. I thought we could go for a walk and get something to eat. That’s probably enough contact for both of us at this stage.”

“As you wish,” he said, secretly relieved at not having to play nice with Moe French.

“Depending on how this first visit goes, he might be staying over in future, though,” she added.

“Of course.”

“And you never know,” she said, spearing another piece of cake. “Maybe one day we’ll move back to Storybrooke. You, me, Gid, and - well, we’ll see how things go.”

She gave him a secretive little smile, and for a moment he envisioned entering the pink house with several small children racing past him to fill the place with life and love and laughter. He smiled back.

“That sounds wonderful.”

-

Belle was enjoying motherhood, but she wondered how single mothers coped alone. Gold had been amazing, racing around the house keeping it clean and tidy, cooking delicious meals for the two of them and helping to feed and change Gideon. He insisted on being the one to get up during the night, even as she said they should take it in turns, but she had to admit that it was a relief to get some rest as her body recovered. He made cakes and cookies and brought her breakfast in bed while she fed Gideon, and made sure she wanted for nothing.

She was worried that he was doing too much; she caught him napping on the couch one afternoon with a pile of laundry in his lap, hands buried in Gideon’s sleep suits and head back against the cushions. She had let him sleep, tiptoeing through to the kitchen to make some tea, and made the dinner herself that evening.

As the time drew nearer for her father’s visit, she found herself getting nervous, and Gideon seemed to pick up on it, growing fractious as she dressed him for the trip outside.

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” asked Gold, helping her get him into the stroller, and Belle shook her head.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be okay once we’re out and he’s got something new to look at.”

“In that case,” he said. “I’ll make something nice for when you get back.”

“You always do.”

“Well, something special, then,” he said. “What would you like?”

Belle pursed her lips.

“A full night’s sleep and a foot rub?”

He grinned.

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll be eating about five-thirty,” she added. “So I won’t want anything for dinner, but I’ll probably feel like curling up with a glass of wine and something stodgy.”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

He finished tucking Gideon in, and kissed his cheek before straightening up to kiss Belle. She clung to him a little longer than usual, and he squeezed her tight.

“It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “And I’m only a phone call away if you need me.”

She nodded, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and set her hands to the stroller, pushing it towards the elevator. Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see Gold watching her from the doorway, and she gave him a reassuring smile as she pressed the elevator call button, hoping for a positive outcome.

-

The apartment was eerily silent without either Belle or Gideon, and Gold didn’t like it. He busied himself cleaning up, folding a freshly-washed pile of laundry and vacuuming the floors. He also made up a pan of chicken casserole, adding a generous glass of red wine, and set it to a low simmer while he pondered what else to cook. He made some bread, pummelling the dough briskly before setting it aside to rise, and wiped flour-covered hands on his apron before poking through the store cupboard again. Belle had mentioned wanting something stodgy to eat, so he decided to make a pan of brownies.

By the time he had finished mixing the batter and put the tin in the oven, it was a quarter to six. He poured himself a glass of the wine and took a large gulp, one toe tapping on the floor as he wondered how Belle’s dinner with her father was going. He hadn’t received a distressed phone call, so he had to assume she was fine. She was more than capable of standing up to her father, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Surely not even Moe French could maintain his bad attitude when he got to hold Gideon.

A knock at the apartment door made him start, and he set down his glass, wiping his hands on his apron and grasping his cane to head for the door. Looking out through the spy hole, he paused as Neal’s face glanced up, his figure distorted by the curve of the lens. Gold’s heart started thumping high in his throat, blood pounding, and he swallowed, his throat dry, the handle gripped tight. His hand shook as he opened the door, and he licked his lips nervously as Neal grinned at him, hefting what looked like a leather laptop bag up a little further on his shoulder.

“Hello, Neal,” said Gold, unsure where his calm tone had come from, but relieved that he sounded normal.

“Hey,” said Neal, patting the bag. “Belle asked Emma to pick her up a couple of books from the university library. I said I’d drop ‘em off on my way home, since I was in the area.”

Gold made a decision.

“Please, come on in,” he said, stepping back and holding open the door. “Belle’s out at the moment, but you’re welcome to wait. I could make some coffee. Or I’ve opened the wine, if you’d prefer a glass of that.”

Neal’s eyes brightened.

“Really? Wouldn’t say no, it’s been a hell of a day.”

He stepped into the apartment, and Gold closed the door behind him, following him into the kitchen and trying to calm his racing heart. Neal shrugged off the strap of his bag, putting it on the table with a heavy thump of books and wriggling his shoulder.

“Belle should try e-books,” he said. “Less chance of a dislocated shoulder.”

Gold chuckled at that.

“I offered to get her one, but she prefers the feel and smell of real books,” he said, getting a second glass from the cupboard and pouring a measure of wine. “Not that she’s had all that much time to read lately.”

“No, I guess not. Thanks.” Neal took the wine. “You say she’ll be back soon?”

“She took Gideon to go and meet her father, but I’m expecting her back in the next half hour or so.”

“You didn’t go too?” asked Neal, and Gold pulled a face.

“Let’s just say that the peace between the two of them is new and fragile, and my presence really wouldn’t help that.”

“Yeah, I pretty much heard her dad’s a tool,” said Neal, making Gold grin.

“My opinion of him is fairly low, but I have to say the feeling’s mutual.”

“Guess you can’t choose your family,” said Neal, and took a drink. “Wow! That’s nice!”

“A favourite of mine.” Gold hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers. “How’s Henry?”

“Yeah, he’s a lot better,” said Neal. “Totally snot-free, happy to say. We thought we might come over Friday, if you’re up for having visitors.”

“I’m sure we’d love that.”

Another pause. Gold took a mouthful of wine, feeling his pulse thud in his throat, his skin tingling. He almost choked as he swallowed, and blinked rapidly, his eyes watering.

“You okay?” asked Neal. “Went down the wrong way?”

“Yes. Uh - shall we go through to the lounge?”

Gold gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen door, and Neal wandered off, leaving him to follow on feet that felt as though they were made of steel plates. It was a relief to sit down, and he had to stop himself from tapping his feet restlessly as he turned the glass between his hands and tried to think of something to say. Neal was good enough to break the heavy silence.

“How’s life with Gideon?” he asked, and Gold smiled.

“He doesn’t give us a lot of time to sit and take a breath, that’s for certain,” he said, “But it’s wonderful. I’m incredibly lucky.”

“You’re enjoying being a dad again, huh?”

“Very much.”

“Is it like you remember?” asked Neal, and Gold hesitated. Here, at last, was an opening. An opportunity.

“With my first son,” he said. “I wasn’t there for the first eighteen months of his life. A little like you and Henry.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Gold looked down at his wine, deep red rippling catching tiny specks of light. “It wasn’t by choice, I might add.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you weren’t in jail,” said Neal, and he smiled.

“No, not jail. Unless of course you count the one of my own making.”

“Deep.”

“Pompous. Sorry.”

Neal chuckled, and Gold took a drink of wine.

“His mother and I weren’t suited,” he said then. “We were never in a proper relationship, and I wasn’t surprised when she left town. But then she came back two years later, with a child. My child, so she said.”

“You think she was lying?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I knew he was mine. At least - at least I thought that I knew. I could - I could feel it.”

He tapped his closed fist against his heart, and Neal watched him silently. Gold gave a tiny shrug.

“Of course I wanted to give him everything I hadn’t - that is - I wanted to do the best for my son as I could,” he said, floundering a little. “I worked hard, earned a good wage - unfortunately, that meant spending more time at work, and less time at home. Milah didn’t appreciate being, in her words: ‘stuck indoors all day with a screaming brat’.”

Neal had gone very still.

“Did you say Milah?” he asked neutrally.

“My ex,” said Gold, wishing his heart would stop thumping so hard. “Anyway, I came home one day, and she’d gone. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but I never thought she’d take him. I never thought…” He cut off, ducking his head. “I never thought I’d lose him.”

Neal took a swallow of wine, and Gold squeezed his glass in an attempt to still his trembling hands.

“What happened?” asked Neal.

“Well, I found out that without being named as his father, I had no right to find out what had happened to him,” he said wearily. “So I had to search alone. She moved around a lot: from Scotland to England, and eventually, to the US. The last place I could trace them to was Social Services in Phoenix. She’d left him there. Said she’d come back and never did.”

Neal shook his head, looking stunned.

“So - so what happened?” he asked. “Did you find him?”

“No.” Gold eyed him steadily. “No, he’d gone. Run away. I was three months too late. I kept searching, but there were no more leads. He knew how to hide, it seemed.”

Neal swallowed hard, and set down his glass.

“You said you weren’t named as the father,” he said. “So his name wasn’t Gold, right?”

“No,” said Gold. “His last name was Bonny, after his mother.”

Neal pushed to his feet in a rush, agitation making his nostrils flare.

“Who told you my mother was called that?” he demanded. “Was it Emma? What did she say? How did you know that?”

“What?” Gold shook his head, an invisible hand squeezing at his heart and leaving him breathless. “I don’t - Emma didn’t tell me anything, I just - well, I remember Milah’s name, of course I do. And - and your name is Cassidy.”

“Because I changed it!” Neal began to pace, running a hand through his hair and looking shattered. “I don’t - I can’t…”

He shook his head, stomping towards the door.

“No, please!” said Gold desperately, pushing to his feet. “Please, don’t go, I just - I need you to listen for a moment.”

“I can’t!”

“Please!” he urged. “Please, my son’s name is Bailey. Bailey Stephen Bonny. He was born on the first of May, twenty-nine years ago, and - and I’ve been searching for him ever since he disappeared, ever since his mother took him from me.”

“This is - this isn’t possible.” Neal shook his head, looking devastated. “This can’t be real. I have to - I have to go, I have to think.”

“No, wait!”

His hand was on the door handle, and Gold had reached out, wanting to touch him, desperate to touch him. He drew back at the last minute, pain clawing at his chest, as though his heart was trying to tear its way out. Neal’s knuckles were white on the handle, his body shaking with tension, and Gold blinked tears from his eyes.

“Is it you, Bae?” he whispered, his voice breaking a little. “Is it really you?”

The name on his tongue seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over them, and Neal wrenched at the door, barging out into the corridor and slamming it shut behind him. Gold sagged, shoulders slumping as he gripped the cane handle to hold himself upright. It’s him. It’s my son. My Bae.

[pascalls]

Bedroom Confessional

After rebuffing the reverend’s attempt to garner pity under the guise of some evening company, Charlie abandons his makeshift hovel to seek solace elsewhere, if only just for one night.

---------------

His clothes reeked of acrid smoke, his gait staggering down the sidewalk as he squinted against the illuminated advertisements that loomed over him. Having abandoned the storage unit that Lovejoy had put him up in for the foreseeable future - as long as the so-called insufferable Bode was still in his home - Charlie found himself fairly unable and unwilling to determine just where to go from there. There was no way he was calling the reverend back. Not after putting up his defenses so expertly and, perhaps stupidly, pushing him away. It had been a taste of his own nasty medicine. Rejection in the most blatant, dismal way. 

And maybe he regretted it.

But the hybrid was no quitter. He stuck to his guns, despite what his hovering conscience told him at every turn. Stupid stupid. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

A sudden clang of bone against metal and a surge of pain in his nose told him that he’d run headlong into a street light. The flimsy mask that hid his features did little to blunt the blow, and with a curse uttered against the sound of traffic in the middle distance, he pressed a hand against his plastic beak, as though that would soothe the ache in his face. 

“Yanno, usually people do that when they’re walking outta the bar.”

Charlie turned to face the source of that churning accent, though he didn’t need to see to know who it was. He’d somehow ended up outside of Moe’s, the bartender having caught his eye and watched, in apparent dull interest as Charlie had smacked straight into the light. 

“Yeah, well…” The hybrid began to mutter in a near snarl, but caught himself before he got too testy, the taste of whiskey on his tongue still fresh and yearning for more. Before him stood an opportunity. Drown out the pain. A doctor might do the same. It was a homeopathic remedy for depression.

...Of a sort.

“Got too excited,” he finished, adjusting his mask and hat before walking towards the other and giving him a cordial pat on the shoulder. “You have time to serve me a few? I know it’s a bit late.”

Far be it from Moe to not acquiesce, and he grinned with his usual skeeviness, hoisting the broom he’d had in hand over his shoulder (why had he been sweeping the sidewalk, Charlie wondered?) and waving Charlie through the door and into the musty bar. Smelling of tobacco as he did, the hybrid was certain that he fit right in with the other bar flies that likely frequented the place. Strange outfit aside, anyway. 

He settled into the seat, adjusting his weird cloak to make sure it didn’t get tangled in the legs of the stool as he breathed out a slow exhale. Already drunk, he was really just looking to continue chasing the feeling of release. To forget Lovejoy’s stupid, pathetic face. To forget his confusion and the despair; the disappointment in his expression. To forget why he was so obsessed, why he was so enthralled, why he was so -

“Thirsty?” 

Charlie glanced up at Moe and nodded at the question posed to him, holding up two fingers. 

“Old-fashioned. Double.” 

“Uh-huh,” Moe replied, turning to throw together some nondescript concoction, the act of which told Charlie that he was probably going to get whatever the hell he had sitting back there and would have to be grateful for it. But whatever. He didn’t care. He’d let Moe decide his fate, watching as a glass was slid in front of him with some sort of muddy, sloshy mixture that had what seemed to be a slightly moldy orange peel in it. 

Whatever!

He hadn’t quite considered how he was going to drink it, but… he could pull the mask up enough to get to his mouth. That’d have to do, tossing his head back to swallow the drink all at once. It nearly choked him; tasted like something terrible and foul, but he had a hard time complaining, setting the glass down once he was done with it and letting out a few haggard coughs as he got it down and into his stomach.

“Woah, okay!” Moe exclaimed, quickly making his way to whip up another. As long as the doctor was drinking, he would keep on churning them out. Easy money, he figured. “What’s eatin’ you? Figured you woulda been the type to talk about all that… health garbage, not hammerin’ them back with ol’ Moe on a Wednesday night.” 

“Alcohol is…” Charlie began, trying to come up with something… smart. And… befitting of the character he’d been playing. But nothing came. He let out a little snuff of frustration and threw up a shrug of his shoulders. “Y’know. Good.” 

That was all he had to offer Moe. Not that the other man could disagree. 

A gnat buzzed somewhere in his peripheral, but he only noticed it briefly before the door to the bar swung open again. Charlie almost didn’t look up, but being in between drinks, he lifted his head, nearly turning away immediately when he caught sight of a familiar face. But that would’ve been too obvious. Downplaying his internal panic, he remained where he was, taking the second of the drinks that Moe continued to feed him and sipping it carefully this time. Careful with his mask. Don’t let anything slip. 

He would not allow Waylon Smithers, the quickest way to get him back to Burns’ fucked up shit shed, to see who he was. 

“Hey there Moe,” Smithers said as he drifted over to settle in one of the empty seats, only one away from where Charlie was. Despite the quickness of his heart, the hybrid glanced over. Curious. Smithers had never seemed to be the kind to drift in and out of the bar. But a better look told him that this was probably not the kindest night to either of them. The man looked disheveled, shirt slightly untucked and without his suit jacket at all. His hair was slightly unkempt and it seemed as though Charlie was not the only one who smelled of cigarettes and liquor. 

If he wasn’t so keen on being inconspicuous, Charlie might have let out a rueful chuckle. The universe didn’t hate him specifically, at least. 

The bartender’s attention was suddenly split, serving drinks to them both as Smithers began to wax poetic on how terrible the muggy weather was while Charlie nursed his own comfort. 

“Moe, have you ever been in love?” Smithers asked. Moe responded with a noncommittal noise, like he didn’t want to have the conversation. 

“I mean, YEAH, but who hasn’t?” Nevermind. Moe’s flip floppery betrayed his interest. Meanwhile, Charlie peered over his beak at Waylon. More subtly tuning into the conversation. Smithers? In love? The thought was a heinous one. The only thing the man seemed to love was his shitty, terrible job at the plant. Or something about it, anyway. 

“Huh. Then you know how terrible it is.” Smithers slumped, hand cradled around his own drink (which seemed to be better looking than Charlie’s, what the fuck?) as he continued. “It lets you get so comfortable and then wrenches itself away.” Dramatic as he explained. His somewhat slurred speech told Charlie that he was already well on his way to metaphorical Flavortown. Maybe he could let his guard down. Slightly. At least enough to join in on the conversation. Seemed right up his alley, apparently. And his own lowered inhibitions urged him to scoot over to settle into that empty seat next to Waylon, reaching out to give him a little pat on the shoulder as he’d done to Moe the few moments before. 

“Sounds like somebody got jilted today,” Charlie replied with a little snort of amusement. “Besides me, I mean. That why we’re both in this dump?” His voice lilted with the swill of his drink, offering as much of a friendly expression as he could with his face obscured by the silly mask. 

“You too, huh?” Smithers glanced over to meet Charlie’s gaze, as if noticing him for the first time. It wasn’t their one and only time in the same room. Springfield was notoriously small; it meant that they ran into each other from time to time. But neither acknowledged one another. It hadn’t mattered. But now they found themselves in the same shoes. For some reason, Charlie thought, that was pretty funny. His fear began to shed away as he nodded in response. 

“You?” Moe interjected, his stare pointed at the cross that Charlie wore around his neck. Though it was no secret that the hybrid was somewhat affiliated with the reverend, he was not a holy man. But he understood how the assumption could be made. 

“Of course,” he said. “What, you don’t think I could get a date?” He pointed at himself with a gloved hand, rolling his eyes as both Moe and Smithers glanced at each other skeptically. 

“...Rude.”

“I guess if you ever took off the whole…” Waylon gestured to Charlie’s outfit. To which the hybrid brought up a hand and waggled a finger at him. 

“A doctor never reveals his secrets.”

“I thought that was magicians?” Moe mumbled partially to himself. Had he gotten that saying wrong his whole life…? As he pondered it, both Smithers and Charlie laughed. An easy feeling. One that Charlie had sorely needed, even if it was at poor Moe’s expense. It opened the door to warmth. Not like the stuffy, confined feeling of sitting in the dark of a storage room. But there was a life to his impromptu companions. And even engaging with Moe was less of a strange drag than it might have been otherwise. But the hybrid’s attention was primarily on Smithers. Who knew such a straight-laced, tight lipped son of a bitch could be so interesting? 

Maybe interesting was the wrong word.

As the night wore on and Moe began to allude to cutting them both off, lest they drink up his entire store, Charlie gave Waylon a gentle nudge with a shoulder. 

“We should probably get out of his hair. Can I walk you home?”

It wasn’t the first flirt that Charlie had shot Waylon’s way that night, but it seemed to be the one that caught the man’s attention the most. 

“Polite of you. I think I can manage, though.” It was a polite no, and Charlie was prepared to take that at face value. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been rejected, after all. But as Smithers pushed himself away from the bar and moved to leave the seat he’d been warming for several hours now, he staggered, woozy from his own swill. The hybrid moved to get hands at his back, steadying him - steadying them both, really - and keeping him from falling over on his face in the middle of Moe’s bar. Charlie felt his own buzz at its height, but he was a well practiced alcoholic. He could keep himself standing up, even if he couldn’t prevent himself from walking into light poles.

“...Maybe you should walk me after all,” Waylon said after finding his balance properly, offering the doctor a sheepish smile. But the hybrid was pleased to oblige. The longer he could postpone his return to that lonely storage unit, the better. He’d see Smithers home, maybe stagger off to sleep outside somewhere, and then return in the morning, going right back into drinking to stave off an angry hangover. 

Offering his arm to Smithers, Charlie bid Moe goodbye, instructing the bartender to ‘put the drinks on the reverend’s tab’ before escorting Waylon out of the bar and back into the street. He gave the light pole a wide berth this time as he allowed the other man to give him the directions back to his apartment. Together, they stumbled and staggered, a few times into the street, with no shortage of drunken giggles and shared stories. It was almost enough to wipe clean the memory of Lovejoy’s more-than-apt insult.

Almost.

By the time they were around the corner to Waylon’s apartment, the man was leaning heavily on Charlie’s shoulders. The hybrid had little problem with it, having come to the conclusion that he could overlook Waylon’s affiliation with Burns, if only for the time being. To let himself have a reprieve. As long as Smithers wasn’t aware of who he really was, Charlie saw little danger in the prospect.

“Ah. Here.” 

Waylon came to a stop, pointing up to his building as they came to the entrance. Though he seemed loathe to take his weight off of Charlie who kept him propped up as best as he could. He wasn’t exactly light…

“Glad we made it,” Charlie said with a little hum in his voice, his buzz still lingering. “Was getting scared that you might topple over and just sleep in the street. Couldn’t leave you alone then. Would be irresponsible.” He laughed, a gentle, easy laugh that he was sure hadn’t left him in several weeks. His heart leapt, briefly, as he considered that he’d need to savor that sensation. It would drain out of him within the next day. When Tim came back or texted him or tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Charlie wouldn’t be able to keep himself from falling into that familiar routine. Forward and forward and back with a harsh hand against his chest. Yearning and aching and suffering all the while.

“...Wanna come up?”

Shaken out of his revelry, Charlie glanced down at Waylon with a lift in his eyebrows, though the other man wouldn’t have been able to tell. His surprise was palpable, however, in his voice. Soft as it was, like a man who saw a glimmer of a watery mirage in the middle of a desert, he hesitated to accept. 

“...You sure?”

Smithers nodded. The man was not sober. But neither was Charlie. And nothing said that this was an invitation for more. Just- to make sure he made it up the stairs. Most likely. Yes, that was it. A mantra that the hybrid bore into his skull with a metaphorical drill. Hopes were for other people who got to fully feel. He wasn’t allowed that. The notion firmly in mind, Charlie turned to lead Waylon inside and up to his floor. 

The elevator was a blessing - God forbid they try to traverse the stairs in their state. But in the quiet, surrounded by only tinny muzak which sounded from the speakers, Charlie glanced down at Smithers again. He’d gotten the idea that the man was… like him. Maybe it was in the way they both spoke; the way they behaved. There was a mutual connection. And it wasn’t until the elevator came to the correct floor and Charlie began to guide Smithers to his door that Charlie felt fairly confident that he was not off base in his assumption. 

If he was, then that would just be another mistake in his growing list.

With some fumbling of his keys, Waylon pushed the door open to his apartment. Charlie reached to try and find a light, lucky in his guess as they closed the door behind them and ventured inside. Waylon squinted against the bulb’s glow, finally pulling his weight off of Charlie’s shoulder and snagging him by the hand. In the glove, the hybrid’s claws felt warm. But his attention was squarely on the very flagrant collection of…

Was that- 

“...Malibu Stacy?” Charlie asked with a little squint at some of the nearby shelves. 

“Shut up.” 

Well. There was no possible way in hell Charlie could be wrong now.

He let out a little chuckle and a gentle ‘sorry’. He’d seen stranger things, he supposed. He was in a fucking storage unit full of someone else’s junk. Throwing stones at glass houses seemed unwise. Especially since he was being summoned down the hallway where he followed Waylon’s awkward drunken gait into the man’s bedroom.

Oh. Okay. 

“Uh. Do you need me to… check to see if your humours are in balance?” He said, slightly embarrassed. Surely, he was not being propositioned so brazenly. Had he been giving off THAT many signals? Oh jeez. Oh fuck. Suddenly, he was very keenly aware of just how flirtatious he’d been at the bar… 

“You can drop that now,” Waylon said as he made his way over to the bedside table, working clumsily at the buttons of his shirt, though he was turned away from Charlie who stood in the doorway. Panicking now. What?? Huh??? Drop what??

“I uh- Don’t know what you -”

“You really don’t think I buy any of that doctor mess, do you?”

“Are you insinuating I’m not a doctor, because-” 

Charlie’s suddenly sweaty attempt at defending his false profession was cut off as Smithers stumbled back over to him, his shirt half undone and glasses slightly off kilter. Reaching up, he poked at Charlie’s beak. Accusatory, though his tone was kept even.

“Look, I don’t care about that. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing the whole time at Moe’s? I didn’t bring you here so you could stick leeches on me.”

In a last minute hasty cover, Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a withering snail. Not a leech at all. But maybe one could be confused if looking at a distance. “Are you sure? Because I can totally-” 

“No!” Smithers smacked the snail out of his hand and it tumbled away. Now Smithers had a snail in his apartment. He’d deal with it later. For now, Charlie was at a loss for words. He’d never been called out like this. “If I have the wrong idea, tell me, but you weren’t exactly making eyes at Moe all night.” 

Ah. Yes. Well. You see, Charlie’s brain reasoned. He wasn’t making eyes at Moe because Moe was fucking weird. But Waylon was… less so. And… he was… 

“...You’re like me,” the hybrid finally responded with a gentle slump of his shoulders. The jig was up. “It’s hard to ignore the impulse to… relate.” 

“Duh.”

Huffing out an embarrassed exhale, Charlie stared at Smithers. Skeptical. But wanting to pretend, for a moment, that that was indeed why he was there. He wouldn’t allow himself to believe that he was wanted. Not unless it was spelled out for him in so many ways that it was irrefutable.

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“I want to.” 

Smithers tapped his foot with impatience. Charlie suddenly felt nauseous. It was hard to remember why he’d been so keenly against removing his disguise when they’d been at Moe’s earlier… The whiskey had done a number on him. Those damned inhibitions. Smithers was… Something. Something something. Take off the mask and let him see you DON’T take off the mask and let him see you but he WANTS to and what is he going to do anyway? His brain cranked on sluggishly as he grappled with his inner self. Trying desperately to find some sense in his earlier desire to stay hidden.

“Nevermind,” Waylon finally said when he was tired of waiting, an agitated sigh escaping his lips. “I’m not really interested in standing here and waiting for you to figure yourself out.” He began to turn away, undoubtedly to collapse into that bed that Charlie wished he could lay in and never get out of. Blankets were always good at hiding people. Hiding him. It had been hard to hide without enough cover. Bed. The bed was nice. Smithers was nice. But he was forward. Oh so very forward and with so much pretense and waiting and watching and pining, Charlie was not used to forward, but - Panic!

“Wait!” Charlie placed both hands out as if, by some unseen force, he could make Waylon turn back around. Pay attention to me. Pay attention to me. Won’t someone please pay attention to me? 

Smithers did not. Until Charlie continued. 

“Okay! Okay. But- Look, you have to decide. I do this and you tell me. Right then. Right there. Whether I stay or go. Okay?”

Pay attention to me.

Arms crossed against his bare chest, Smithers turned slightly to face the hybrid, an eyebrow cocked in vague, but waning interest. 

Pay attention to me.

Charlie summoned up his will. Now or never. A silent prayer went up to the invisible Almighty. That he wouldn’t be rejected again. He wasn’t sure he could take the spiral that might send him down. He would. Of course. But that didn’t mean he had to be so certain about it. 

Reaching up, he removed his hat first, though his bright and blazing orange hair was still hidden underneath the cloak. That came off too, setting it aside on the floor. And without any further hesitation, Charlie pulled himself free from the mask, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his glasses and affix them to the bridge of his nose. Long ears sprang up from his hair and his gloves were peeled away to reveal those claws, scales speckling his flesh in ways that he wished they didn’t as he stood there in normal clothes. Like a normal person. 

Like a normal person with a tail.

His eyes met Waylon’s for that silent, heavy moment as he set all of the bits of his costume aside. Held his arms out, as if goading Smithers to fire away. His insults, his hatred, his vilification, his rejection.

Pay attention to me.

Negative attention was still attention.

But the silence persisted. As Smithers took a few steps forward to look him over. Stare at those reptilian features. Meet his gaze. Like he were appraising a fucking car. And Charlie oh-so desperately wished he would just boot him out and get it over with. Tell me, tell me tell me you don’t want me.

Pay attention to me.

Before he had the opportunity to say it aloud, before he was able to turn around and kick HIMSELF out when he could take the silence no longer, Waylon’s feet carried him forward as he snagged the hybrid by the collar of his shirt and pulled him further into the room. Whatever, his movements seemed to say. You’ll do. Charlie was vaguely aware of what had brought Smithers to Moe’s in the first place. Love, love, love. A rejection all his own? Were they both there for the same reason? His mind came up with solutions to the problem that he knew nothing of, but those were wiped away entirely as he felt the other man’s lips crash against his own. He’d removed his glasses, shut his eyes, and was kissing him. A desperate, sloppy, and sudden kiss that gave Charlie opportunity to do little else but return the gesture. 

You’re paying attention to me.

Suddenly, he felt parched, those claws grasping for Waylon’s shirt to finish what he’d started and began to undo the rest of those buttons. The other man returned the favor, clumsily working to peel of layers and find more of those scales, though he was hardly paying attention. Waylon’s concern was getting what he wanted. What he’d brought Charlie back home for in the first place. And Charlie realized that they were both just seeking that solace they couldn’t find anywhere else.

Warm hands accompanied breathy sounds, the furniture creaked with their weight as they descended into the sheets. Charlie’s shortcomings were somewhere in the distance. Waving frantically but left behind. He had someone’s attention. 

It was not Timothy’s. 

For tonight, that was okay.

-------------------------------------------------------

Light leaked through a window somewhere above his head. A bird twittered excitedly as the morning sun called out to it, though the sweet song only signaled the fresh hell of a throbbing headache as Charlie came back into consciousness. He hesitated to open his eyes, the comfort of darkness feeling familiar, but fighting a losing battle against the light. 

Eventually, he peeled them open, wincing as he pushed himself up to sit, the blanket falling from his shoulders as he brought a hand up to rub tiredly at his head. His mouth felt raw. There was a subtle hint of blood and the tang of liquor on his tongue. His body screamed at him to go back to sleep. His conscience told him the opposite. Get up. Go. 

He wasn’t alone. His addled brain only began to make connections as he glanced over to the other figure in the bed next to him. Short hair peered over the top of the blankets and the sheets slowly rose and fell as the other slept on, not yet roused by the hybrid who stayed where he was. Processing. Squinting at the other. 

Pieces falling into place.

Oh.

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

Charlie was suddenly and alarmingly aware of the fact that his scales were in full view. His head pounded as he glanced down at his arms. Reached up to feel that his ears poked out from his mussed hair. His tail hung over the side of the bed, twitching in growing agitation. How. How how how how HOW?

That was Smithers! Smithers SAW HIM. His scales! His claws! His tail!!!

Oh God, he would tell Burns.

Ignoring the pain in his limbs - and mostly in his head - he began to slowly move away from the bed, lifting the blanket off his legs as he dragged them over the edge of the bed to place his clawed feet on the floor. God, he was totally fucking naked. STUPID. Stupid stupid. His brain screamed and railed against his poor decision as he moved at a snail’s pace to reach for his underpants. Slowly; steadily pulling them on. To give himself some dignity. Leaning down to try and collect his jeans. Almost almost. Just a bit longer. Then  he could be gone. And Smithers would think it was just a drunken dream. A figment of his imagination. Sleep paralysis gone wrong! Yes! 

“...You’re the worst at being quiet,” croaked a voice that made him nearly jump out of his skin. Fuck. FUCK.

He slowly turned to glance back at Smithers who had leaned up on his elbow, blinking dully at the hybrid who was doing a piss poor job at collecting his clothes. Feeling sweat bead at his forehead, Charlie let out a little nervous laugh. 

“Sorry, I just- There’s… You know. Somewhere I gotta be and uh-”

No, he couldn’t just. Say that. He couldn’t just run away. This was clearly not Waylon’s first rodeo. And he seemed startlingly sober. Even if his stubble was scraggly, his hair unkempt, and his glasses somewhere on the floor nearby. 

“Uh-huh. Back to the reverend’s?”

Charlie nearly choked. He was getting fucking punched in the gut at multiple angles here. 

“No! Just- I’ve got some errands. You know. The rest of Springfield’s still gotta think I’m a doctor.”

Stupid. Why did you say that? His mind jabbed cruelly at him.

“Did you hide because of Burns?” Smithers asked, glancing down at Charlie’s tail, the spines having bristled in clear agitation and panic at the question. He thought it weird. But he wouldn’t say so. “You know he’s forgotten all about that little pet project of his.”

Waylon let out a little low, muttery laugh. “Hah… ‘pet’.”

“What?” Charlie asked, confused. Still panicking. Up on his feet now next to the bed. Trying to get his PANTS on but his stupid TAIL made it DIFFICULT. 

“He’s got other things to do now,” Waylon continued, sitting up entirely and giving a lazy stretch. Charlie’s eyes widened as he saw his own handiwork in the form of bruises and welts along the man’s skin. Fuck’s sake, did he do that? He wouldn’t notice his own hickies until later on. He had several along his neck, more on his shoulders closer to his back. “So as long as you don’t hover around him in plain sight, you can go on doing whatever it is that you.”

The hybrid swallowed. His spines began to relax. But hesitantly. He still wasn’t sure.

“So… You’re not interested in selling me out?” He asked. Tentative. 

“If I was, I would’ve drugged your drink and dragged you back myself.”

Inwardly, Charlie shuddered. That is not a JOKE.

“...Th-thanks?” The hybrid said. He wasn’t sure how comforting that was, but…

“You keep this… whole thing between us and I’ll make sure you’re left alone,” Smithers proposed. Rubbing a bit of the soreness from his arms. They’d undoubtedly gotten a bit rough the night before. The part of Charlie that was not currently recovering from his earlier heart attack found a smug sense of satisfaction nestling somewhere in his gut. A rare feeling, but one that he welcomed. Somewhere inside.

“...Deal.” 

Charlie continued to get himself dressed. It wasn’t exactly a romantic foray, but… Still okay. Yes? Maybe. 

“...Did you at least enjoy it?” He asked as he slowly buttoned his shirt back up, glancing over his shoulder. Like he was shy. Like he didn’t want to hear the answer. His memories of the previous night had been mixed and splashed throughout, the timeline of events not making much sense. But he knew that… Some part of him had been fulfilled. Even if only for a little bit. Someone like him. On the same page. Dancing to the same waltz, singing the same melody. 

“Sure. Not that I think this’ll be a regular thing or anything, but…I wouldn’t rule it out again.” Smithers sank back against his pillow, clearly not keen on getting up from his warm bed. Only kind enough to put Charlie’s fears to rest and little else. He knew what he wanted, Charlie thought. The hybrid admired that. And the suggestion of another rendezvous, well…

It was a little flicker of a bright spot in his otherwise depressing day-to-day.

“Good to know,” Charlie said after a moment, offering the other a genuine, if tired smile. Okay. It was fine. This was fine. He had paid attention to Charlie. And that was good.

Why can’t you do the same? A voice said somewhere in the back of his head; that angry, accusatory tone fired at the metaphysical aura of the reverend that hovered on the edge of his conscience. He shook it away. He wanted to let the endorphins sizzle in his nerves for a little bit longer and pretend like Lovejoy didn’t even exist. Not yet. Not yet not yet.

When he’d gotten himself dressed again, hat placed upon his head - foregoing the cloak and mask in favor of a plan to slink about in the early morning haze to get back to the storage shed - he drifted towards the door. But he paused, briefly. Glanced over at Waylon’s bedside table where he had a pink little frou-frou diary. Malibu Stacy branded, no doubt. A detail he’d have to remember for later. But he took a few steps to go over and nab a nearby pen. Flip to a page in that stupid diary and scribble down his phone number. A brief moment of boldness.

“In case you get sick of love again,” Charlie murmured, slightly shy about doing it at all, but writing his name above the digits all the same. They could, at least, relate in that way. Pain could be chased away with company. If only for a little while. And familiar company was better than the unknown of a stranger. 

Waylon glanced down at the page and then up at Charlie. And though he seemed to think it over for a moment, he eventually gave a little nod of acknowledgement. Sure, the gesture said. He’d keep that in mind. And from there, he turned around and settled back into the bed where he could doze. Charlie smiled to himself and let him be, making his way back to the front door and showing himself out. Taking one last brief glance at Waylon’s ridiculous Malibu Stacy collection and shaking his head. What a fruit.

But the sweetness that remained on his tongue would linger. For long enough.

Until he could catch someone else’s attention.

[stahlop]

Once Upon a Time 1x12 “Skin Deep” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06  1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11

This was one of my favorite episodes when this aired originally. It still is one of the better episodes of the first season. It is written by Jane Espensen who also wrote for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which was the first show I was ever obsessed with, and she is an amazing writer. I’ll admit right off the bat that I’m not a huge fan of Emilie de Ravin who plays Belle. I’m not really sure why I don’t like her. I liked her in Roswell but I didn’t like her in Lost. Here she just doesn’t come off plucky enough for me to be Belle. I don’t really see what Rumplestiltskin sees in her. But I think the rest of the plots are good. Even the Valentine part of it. This one is long y’all, so buckle up.

Summary: Rumplestiltskin makes a deal for Belle to be his servant girl to save her kingdom from Ogres. In Storybrooke, Mr. Gold’s house gets robbed and vows to make the burglar pay. Mary Margaret and David go through a tough time being that it’s Valentine’s Day.

Opening: Rumplestiltskin’s spinning wheel

New Characters:

Belle: She is a lady of some sort in this iteration, who bravely volunteers to be Rumplestiltskin’s servant girl to save her lands from Ogres. She already does not seem scared of Rumplestiltskin,  but she does immediately chip a cup when he jokes with her about skinning children. Belle is there for some time because when we first see Rumplestiltskin’s castle it is very snowy and obviously winter, but then Belle is trying to open the curtains because it is almost spring. This is the first time we see an attraction between them. He is okay with her asking questions (though not necessarily answering them) and joking with her, so they have developed a rapport during her stay there. The next scene shows her sitting on his dining room table talking with him, something you would only do if you are really comfortable with someone. Plus she’s asking questions, which turn out to be questions regarding Baelfire. Belle does bring up a good point though. She asks Rumplestiltskin “If I’m never going to know another person in my whole life, can’t I at least know you?” Girl resigned to her fate pretty quickly if you ask me. I guess she’s probably also scared that if she does try to leave that he’ll curse her family or something, but she genuinely seems to care for him in this particular conversation. Rumplestiltskin immediately goes on the defensive. Belle also makes reference to the mirrors being covered up because he doesn’t like his appearance, but the audience rightly knows it’s because he doesn’t want EQ spying on him. Belle explains that she came with Rumplestiltskin because she always wanted to be brave and figures bravery would follow her there, she also wanted to see the world and fall in love, since Gaston was an arranged marriage. It’s at this point that Rumplestiltskin realizes he’s a little in love with Belle, so he tells her he’ll tell her about his son when she comes back from town to fetch him some straw. Belle has every intention of not coming back, even though she has fallen a little in love with Rumplestiltskin as well, but EQ just happens upon her and gives her some advice about curses and love, so Belle goes back to the castle to test it out. Belle is amazed when true love’s kiss actually works and Rumplestiltskin starts to become human again, but he isn’t into losing his power, so he locks her in the dungeon. He eventually tells Belle to leave and she calls him a coward, infuriating him more since he hasn’t been a coward since becoming the Dark One. She calls him out about thinking he doesn’t deserve love or believe she can love him, even though true love’s kiss happened. Belle says “All you’ll have is an empty heart and a chipped cup.”

In Storybrooke, we don’t know anything about Belle except that she seems to be in a mental ward in the basement of the hospital. Does she have her memories of Belle? Does she have a cursed persona?

Sir Maurice/Moe French: I don’t think we ever got his name in the EF, but this is how he is listed on IMDB. There is really not much to say about Maurice. He wants to make a deal with Rumplestiltskin to get rid of the Ogres, but he also doesn’t want to lose his daughter.

Moe is were we get some characterization, although, still not a lot. Moe owns a flower shop and has defaulted on a loan to Gold. Being that the next day is Valentine’s Day, Moe is a little upset that Gold is taking his flower van away. When Gold’s house is broken into, he names Moe French as the possible perpetrator to Emma when she questions him. Moe then gets beaten up by Gold because he stole the chipped cup on Regina’s orders, and because Gold thinks he made Belle kill herself back in the EF, of course, Moe has no idea about the EF stuff, of course.

Character Observations:

Rumplestiltskin/Gold: The meat of the episode is the feelings of both these characters and Robert Carlyle is amazing!!! Rumplestiltskin helps out Belle’s family by getting rid of the Ogres and ending the war, but takes Belle as collateral. Belle eventually tells him that he did it because he’s lonely. I have to wonder if he had a premonition about Belle or if he just took a fancy to her. Either way, he starts opening up to Belle and joking with her. Some of the jokes are about having Belle ‘skin the children he hunts for their pelts’ and saying he forgot what he was spinning about when Belle asks him why he spins. You can see Rumplestiltskin’s conflicting emotions when he catches Belle when she falls. He notices that she is looking at him as well and practically throws her off of him. He also acquiesces to her suggestions of opening the curtains and sits and talks to her on the dining room table as if they are friends. Rumplestiltskin probably has not had someone to talk to as a friend for a long time. Does the Dark One have friends? It seems EQ is an ally of some sort as she just waltzes into his castle later on to ask for a favor. He also keeps the mirrors covered up so EQ can’t spy on him. He tells her he had a son and is despondent about it. Rumplestiltskin thinks Belle is trying to ferret out his weaknesses. Belle says he’s not a monster but he pretty much kills Gaston right off the bat when he turns him into a rose (I’m assuming he’s dead). When Belle tells him she and Gaston were an arranged marriage and her views on love, he lets her go. He tells her to go get straw from town for him. Belle thinks it’s because he trusts her, Rumplestiltskin says he doesn’t expect to ever see her again. If you love something set it free and see if it returns. And she does return, but when they kiss, the darkness starts to leave and if there is one thing Rumplestiltskin is known for, it’s his power, and he can’t let it go. And then, the best scene of all in this episode. Rumplestiltskin figures out it was EQ who told Belle how to break his ‘curse’. He’s yelling in the mirror about turning her against him, making him weak and defeating him, and while it's directed at EQ he’s yelling at his reflection and it is amazing. He turns on Belle now, figuring the whole thing had to either be a trick from EQ from the start or Belle wanting to be the hero by killing him. Belle is desperately trying to remind him that it was true love’s kiss since he was changing, but he states that no one could ever love him and throws her back into the dungeon. He throws a fit, breaking his glass cabinets and his tea set, but not the cup that Belle chipped. Awww. He later lets Belle go stating that he doesn’t want her there anymore and she calls him a coward for not believing in love. He says that’s a lie, he just chooses his power over her, and Belle leaves. And just when we think we’re done with this story, EQ saunters in a let’s Rumplestiltskin know that Belle is dead. The joy on his face that he tries to hide when at first he thinks Belle needs a place to live, that he then hides his grief and anger when EQ tells him she died is just heartbreaking. And Rumplestiltskin, in his grief, places the chipped tea cup on a pedestal because Belle’s love was worth more to him than any piece of gold.

On to Gold who has a few things to work out about Belle’s death. It starts with him repossessing Moe French’s flower truck. I’m sure Moe actually did default on his loan, but Gold is doing this out of pure spite. Regina witnesses the exchange and tries to talk to Gold, but he’s not in the mood for anything Regina has to say to him. Then Gold’s house gets robbed and he immediately knows it was Moe. He does let Emma know (after she threatens him with legal action), and subtlety lets her know that if he gets to Moe first he may not be responsible for what happens (‘bad things tend to happen to bad people.’). And while Emma does recover most of Gold’s stuff, the thing that is most precious to him has not been recovered, so all bets are off now. Gold runs into David at the drug store and comments about David’s inability to choose a Valentine’s Day card. He tells him ‘love is like a delicate flame and once it’s gone it’s gone forever.’ Man who knew I’d be feeling sorry for Gold in this scenario? Of course, he’s purchasing rope and duct tape, so I can’t feel too sorry for him. Moe is now tied up in the back of his flower truck and brings him to a cabin to torture him. Moe is trying to tell him that robbing him wasn’t his fault (as we later find out Regina put him up to it), and Gold is just beating the crap out of him for what happened to Belle in the EF. He tells Moe ‘She’s gone forever. she’s not coming back and it’s your fault, not mine.’ I think Gold is having a little bit of guilt over being the cause of Belle’s death. The juxtaposition of this scene over the scene where he’s breaking everything in his castle is just gorgeous! Emma eventually stops Gold from committing murder. She contemplates what Gold did is for something personal, and not just stealing and she arrests him. And this is the perfect time for Regina to finally get that conversation she wanted from Gold earlier. She gets him to admit he’s Rumplestiltskin and awake. He says once he’s out he’ll still be the one in charge. Regina says ‘We’ll see.’

Evil Queen/Regina: The manipulation is strong in the Evil Queen this episode. She acts like a concerned woman when she sees Belle walking down the road, asking if her carriage splashed her. Walking with her she deduces that she is running from either her master or lover, or both. Belle is way too forthcoming with a woman she just met, but EQ plants the idea that her master/lover is most likely cursed and that true loves kiss is the only thing that can break a curse. And EQ’s line about this is hilarious, ‘I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive. What kind of message is that?’ Oh, yes, let’s call out all the people who think Beauty and the Beast is about Stockholm Syndrome instead of not judging a book by it’s cover. She also warns Belle that if her master doesn’t love her, the kiss won’t work. After Belle leaves, EQ comes by Rumplestiltskin’s place supposedly to make a deal regarding a certain mermaid. Ariel perhaps? But seriously, how Rumplestiltskin doesn’t just flay EQ alive in this scene is beyond me.  Her baby voice alone drove me crazy. Rumplestiltskin has already established that her little ruse with Belle didn’t work and she will never be more powerful than him, but the way EQ toys with him, letting him know that Belle’s father shunned her, locked her in a tower and basically had clerics torture her before she jumped to her death is just cruel beyond compare. Especially, since we know she’s not dead (we can’t be sure about the rest of it). I’m surprised Rumplestiltskin didn’t make a fireball and roast EQ alive right then and there.

Regina also uses manipulation to get what she wants, which is a conversation with Gold. He won’t talk with her after he takes Moe’s van, and Regina sees a way to kill two birds with one stone. Get Moe to rob Gold in revenge, and have him take something Gold would only care about if he knew who he was from the EF. Regina knows Gold won’t take this lightly and he won’t let Emma do it either. Regina also manipulates Emma. Once Gold is behind bars she can talk to him, so she let’s Emma take Henry out for ice cream so she has time alone with the prisoner. I just love how both Regina and Gold try to twist their words so they can answer truthfully, but still not give the answer needed. Regina asks for his name, Gold responds with ‘Every moment spent on this earth he’s been Mr. Gold.’ Regina asks, ‘What about moments spent elsewhere?’ And then she finally resorts to the chipped tea cup, saying she won’t return it unless he says his name. So he finally admits he’s Rumplestiltskin, and Regina basically says she’s going for a power grab.

Ashley: She’s a big sad sack in this episode.  She’s still not doing much to make me like her. At least she looks good? She’s upset because even though she and Sean are together and have Alexandra, Sean has to work double shifts and she’s stuck at home with the baby and they never get to see each other. Which, yeah, that sucks, but isn’t there anyway for Ashley to get a job so Sean doesn’t have to work so much? There have to be daycare centers there or someone who can watch Alexandra during the day, right? Or is it just a matter of wanting to be a stay-at-home mom but upset because her boyfriend has to work double shifts so they can afford for her to be a stay-at-home mom? I wasn’t too clear about why Ashley wasn’t working when she was clearly working before the baby. Anyway, the best part of this scene is Granny watching Alexandra while Ashley vents to Emma and Mary Margaret, because Granny has nothing better to do than watching a baby while running her restaurant. Ruby invites them all out for a girl’s night on Valentine’s Day, Emma says no, but the other girls are in. At girl’s night, Ashley and Mary Margaret talk about how they thought love would be different. Ashley asks, ‘What’s the point in being together if we’re never together?’, but then, of course, Sean comes in on his break and proposes to her, so everything is good for Ashley, even though they’ll still never see each other, they’ll just be legal.

Mary Margaret and David: Still continuing their affair. Still pretending they’re just hanging out at the diner separately while reading the same book about extra-marital affairs (see questions section below about this). Still pretending they don’t have feelings for one another in public. Then David is really stupid and accidently gives Mary Margaret the Valentine’s Day he got for Kathryn, which was a bonehead move (get it, because the card said ‘I Woof You’). Mary Margaret finally breaks off the affair because of what Ashley said earlier and David says he’ll find a way to be with Mary Margaret. Leave your wife, David! That’s how you can be with Mary Margaret. 

Emma: She’s pretty much just in sheriff mode in this episode. We don’t get a lot of insight into her except that she keeps telling Mr. Gold to let her handle things. She really needs to get another deputy. Don’t small town sheriffs tend to have at least one other person to work with them so they aren’t on call all the time? Emma does get to spend a little time with Henry because Regina wants to talk to Gold privately. And like the law-abiding sheriff she is, she picks time with her son over protecting her prisoner.

Questions:

Is this the same Ogre War from Baelfire’s time? From Rumplestiltskin’s youth? A new one all together? There seems to be a major problem with Ogres in the EF.

Why would Mary Margaret recommend David read Anna Karenina? The story is about an extra marital affair that basically destroys the two lovers and then the woman commits suicide. I hope this is not foreshadowing what’s to come between these two.

Where is the snow? They live in Maine, it is Valentine’s Day and we’ve yet to see snow on the ground.

How small are these clothes Belle saw? The last we saw Baelfire he was almost 14, practically a man. The way Belle says small they sound like they’re for a toddler.

Can EQ hear through mirrors she couldn't see through? How else would she know about Belle leaving on that particular road?

Is Gaston dead the minute Rumplestiltskin turns him into a rose, or does he essentially bleed out when Belle cuts the stem of the rose?

Is Belle the love that Gold seems to have lost and is bitter about?

Why does Rumplestiltskin take Regina at her word that Belle is dead? Why doesn’t he listen for rumors or check it out himself? Isn’t he pretty omniscient, being able to pop up wherever he wants?

How does Regina know about the chipped cup? How did she know Gold had it in his house? How did she know where it was for Moe to steal it?

Where did Belle end up if not dead? Is she still with her father or does EQ have her?

Observations:

Rumplestiltskin has now been Cinderella’s fairy godmother and Belle’s beast. We’ve yet to see him in his actual fairy tale with the miller’s daughter. I wonder what other fairy tales he’ll show up in?

Considering Belle’s very fancy dress, the rest of the castle is in shambles. The throne has rips in the fabric, the walls are peeling, and there are pieces of the castle laying all around the room they are in.

Moe French’s flower shop is called Game of Thornes

We see the spinning wheel and the puppets in Rumplestiltskin’s castle, so we know that this takes place at some point after the Jiminy Cricket episode

Rumplestiltskin covers his mirrors so Regina can’t spy on him.

Nice call out to the original Disney Beauty and the Beast by giving Belle a rose and telling her it was a beggar woman selling them (the prince is cursed as a Beast in the movie because he turned a beggar woman, who wanted to pay for a night in his castle with a rose, away who was really an enchantress).

Rumplestiltskin says he lost his son and his son’s mother. I think the fact that he doesn’t say died literally means he lost them somehow.

The cabin Gold brings Moe to is the same cabin Mary Margaret and David got stranded in during the storm in 7:15 AM.

True Love’s Kiss works even on the Dark One, but he has to be willing to let go of his power.

The nurse and janitor down in the basement ward of the hospital look like Nurse Rachet and Chief from the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which was about inmates in a mental hospital.

Once Firsts:

Rumplestiltskin choosing his power over love.

Names:

Belle means beauty, which is why she was named that for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.

Moe is generally a nickname for Maurice, so that fits since his EF name is Maurice.

All in all this was an amazing episode. We got to see the Beauty and the Beast story in a completely different light. Rumplestiltskin as the beast was a great way to go about that and not make it seem icky. And we got great insight into how Rumplestiltskin views himself when he’s alone. It almost makes you feel sorry for him, almost.

Please leave comments and reblog!

@searchingwardrobes @thisonesatellite @justbecauseyoubelievesomething

@laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @mariakov81

[recentanimenews]

10 Western Media That Would Make Great Anime

When we anime fans tire of lamenting for the adaptation of manga after manga, or light novel after light novel, we tend to turn our imaginations away from Japan. After all, anime is no stranger to adapting western media. Many books, shows and movies have been adapted from western media into anime form, including Deltora Quest, Spider Riders, Witchblade, Howl’s Moving Castle, Highlander, and Supernatural just to name a few.

This got me thinking of my own wishlist of western media that would make great anime. Here are 10 shows, books, and movies that would make awesome anime adaptations.

  Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve Book Series - Dream Studio: Production I.G. - Dream Format: TV Anime

If you’ve never heard of Mortal Engines, no sweat. It’ll be your new favorite thing in no time. This YA quartet from British author Philip Reeve follows Tom, an apprentice historian atop the city of London. When he’s thrown out of the city, he sides with Hester Shaw, an assassin with the resistance after the life of his master, Thaddeus Valentine, who she blames for the death of her mother.

Sounds pretty run of the mill YA right? My bad. I forgot to mention all of the cities run on tractor wheels. Oh, and the cities eat other cities for resources. Oh, and there’s this huge conspiracy surrounding the city-eating cities, and this huge plot to destroy them. It’s cool that Peter Jackson’s directing a film adaptation of the series, which is due out this December, but just imagine this as an anime...

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling Book Series - Dream Studio: A-1 Pictures - Dream Format: TV Anime

Does Harry Potter really need an introduction? I feel like we all know about the boy who lived and his battle with he-who-shall-not-be-named. The cliffnotes version of Harry Potter is that an abused orphan turns out to have an incredible magical gift required to stop some of the wizarding world’s most malevolent forces. In addition to his studies, he must juggle fighting the dark forces, and maintaining the friendships he makes at Hogwarts.

  Harry Potter is essentially fantasy shonen in book format. It has the magical boarding school. It has the perfect shonen protagonist and sidekicks. The duels would be incredible to see animated. Hagrid would be moe AF. The mythical creatures would be a sight for sore eyes. But most importantly? QUIDDITCH EPISODES!

Railsea by China Miéville Novel - Dream Studio: Madhouse - Dream Format: Movie

China Mieville’s Railsea is an interesting reimagining of Moby Dick. Except instead of a sea, it’s a giant desert covered in endless, winding train tracks – the titular railsea. And there’s no whales. Only giant moles. The story follows Sham Yes ap Soorap, a young assistant doctor on a train that hunts giant moles for meat (think whaling but with moles). Her journey among the pirates, monsters, and salvagers alike kicks off when she comes across a series of photographs aboard a trainwreck that hint at the impossible existing.

The history behind the now-derelict world of Railsea, coupled with the mixture of gripping drama and havoc reminiscent of kaiju films, would make for a solid animated feature, the visuals of which I’d only trust to Madhouse.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin Book Series - Dream Studio: MAPPA - Dream Format: Movies

Okay, so it’s Game of Thrones, but all the characters are moe idols. That’s it. That’s the show.

More seriously though, A Song of Ice and Fire would make a downright wicked fantasy anime. This large-scale fantasy epic has such an incredible assortment of characters, rich history, and gratuitous violence that would be a treat to see in anime form. It’s tough to really pinpoint the plot, since so much is going on, but A Song of Ice and Fire centers on a number of noble families – such as the Starks or Lannisters – vying to claim the throne of Westeros.

If there’s one studio out there that could handle A Song of Ice and Fire, it would be MAPPA. MAPPA’s history with dark fantasy anime series such as Rage of Bahamut or Garo only strengthens my confidence in their ability to breathe some animated life into the franchise.

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick Novel - Dream Studio: SHAFT - Dream Format: TV Anime

You may know A Scanner Darkly from that weird rotoscoped movie where Keanu Reeves, Robert Downey Jr., and Woody Harrelson play a rag-tag group of friendly drug addicts. The movie itself was based on the Philip K. Dick book of the same name. It follows Bob Arctor, who lives parallel lives as both a drug addict and undercover police agent. Undercover agents report to their superiors in scramble suits, which scramble their identities. The kicker here is that Bob Arctor’s undercover gig? Spy on Bob Arctor.

The drug-addled, paranoia-fueled philosophy behind the day-to-day of drug addicts living in a world where the war on drugs was lost makes for an interesting dynamic, especially with the sci-fi enhanced police work behind it. The only studio I’d trust visually with this would be Shaft, if only to see drug-addict head tilts.

  Peep Show British Comedy Series - Dream Studio: Kyoto Animation - Dream Format: TV Anime

I know this sounds like a weird one, but stick with me. Peep Show is a British sitcom that follows mismatched flatmates Mark and Jeremy – Mark being the uptight 9-5er and Jeremy being the easy-going partier. They don’t always see eye to eye, but sometimes friendships need that. Sometimes Mark needs to loosen up a little. Sometimes Jeremy needs to grow up a bit. As long as they have each other, nothing bad can really go wrong, right? Well, as human nature would have it, things tend to go wrong – quite often, rather quickly.

KyoAni’s bread and butter tends to be slow-paced slice-of-life shows, so if any anime studio would revel in adapting a sitcom, it’d be them. The gimmick of Peep Show is that the camera angles don’t tend to be traditional, and often are shot from the direct view of Mark or Jeremy. It would be interesting to see how that worked in anime form.

Kitchen Nightmares Reality TV Series - Dream Studio: David Production - Dream Format: TV Anime

If Kitchen Nightmares were adapted into an anime, I think it’d probably be a lot like Food Wars!, but Gordon Ramsay yells at Soma every 5 minutes. More realistically, it would follow a rather manly Gordon Ramsay on his trek across Japan in search of crestfallen restaurants in desperate need of an upgrade. Now throw in some Jojo-styled manliness – the likes of which only David Production could replicate – and we have ourselves a recipe for the perfect anime.

The translation of Ramsay’s infamous potty mouth would be a peculiar one, but seeing a muscle-clad Gordon Ramsay faffing about a kitchen screaming oi, teme at the sous chefs would be a treat we could all sink our teeth into.

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham Novel - Dream Studio: Wit Studio - Dream Format: Movie

There’s always room for more horror and suspense anime, ones about sentient walking plants doubly so. The book follows Bill Masen, a scientist who specializes in the care, study, and cultivation of triffids – towering venomous carnivores cultivated for their oils. After waking up from temporary blindness following a triffid strike, he finds everyone is now blind from green flashes brought on by comets the night prior. Now Bill must make his way through the streets of London in search of safety.

  While horticulture itself usually isn’t scary, there’s something eerily unsettling about the fact that poisonous man-eating plants walk the streets. Wit Studio would probably be the only studio which could replicate that suspense and terror, having done it perfectly in Attack on Titan and Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress.

  Star Wars Sci-Fi Media Franchise - Dream Studio: Ufotable - Dream Format: TV Anime

With Ufotable’s success at adapting large scale media franchises such as Fate, this sci-fi space opera could be in no better hands. Anime is no stranger to the world’s 2nd largest media franchise either. There are loads of references to the movies in various anime and manga, including Daicon IV, Berserk, Gintama, Doraemon, and Princess Jellyfish, just to name a few. Some fans have gone as far as to draw parallels between the Jedi of Star Wars and Newtypes of Gundam (whether that’s intentional or a coincidence being how close the two were to releasing).

  The coming-of-age rebellion story, coupled with the gratuitous tie-fighter dogfights and lightsaber battles, would make for one show you’d be on the edge of your seat for week after week. I think each trilogy could probably be adapted in one cour, but at this point, I’d even take seeing Clone Wars reanimated in its entirety as long as Ufotable got their hands on it.

  The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams Book Series - Dream Studio: Bones - Dream Format: Movies

From spaceship-stealing presidents to poetry-loving aliens, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has a special charm that boys, girls, and little green people across the universe can love. It follows the incredibly British Arthur Dent, who in attempting to stop the demolition of his house, learns from his best friend Ford Prefect that the Earth is about to be demolished. After a few pints at the pub, the two hitch a ride on a ship and proceed on a journey through the stars in search of answers to life, the universe, and everything.

Anime has the unique marketability to sell just about anything. Look at Dr. Pepper sales after the first series of Steins;Gate aired back in 2011 after all. If the Japanese towel industry ever finds itself in a slump, anime studios know just what British science fiction series to adapt.

BONUS: King of the Hill Animated TV Series - Dream Studio: P.A. Works - Dream Format: TV Anime

You got that right: we’re doing a meme entry! King of the Hill has already claimed some notoriety in anime fandom as being one of the greatest anime of all time (if only second to Cory in the House).

King of the Hill follows the Hank Hill, his family, and their dysfunctional band of friends and neighbors as they navigate the challenges of daily life, propane, diminished glutes, lawnmowers, and more. Sometimes Hank’s modest sensibilities are challenged, but as a man of his word and a man of character, he never stands down.

While the closest we’ll probably ever get to a King of the Hill anime was the 1-hour episode where they went to Japan, we can only hope that one day, you’ll get a Crunchyroll notification that says “Release: King of the Hill - Episode 1”.

What about you folks? Got a favorite book, comic, TV series, or movie you want to see in anime form? Sound off in the comments below!

  ---

  Zach Godin writes about the manga he reads and collects over at his website, Rusted Culture. Feel free to say hi on Twitter: @zachjgodin

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[daniellewade]

stage door stories.

I realized that it’s been three weeks since I saw newsies in Pittsburgh, and I never shared my stories. so first off the show was phenomenal! I have a post about it here. but lets talk stage door for a minute.

being a regional production we didn't expect much to happen at the stage door but alas, we get to the stage door and and my group and I where the first ones there. a couple crew members came out and walked off but Danny was the first cast member I remember seeing. he immediately turns to me and my group and goes "oh my gosh hi! I'm so glad you guys are here" I was floored, he recognized me and he came right up to give me a hug. so since I was with a group of five girls we all kinda took turns getting our playbills signed, and talking with him. I can around last and I gave him his letter and a drawing of him as crutchie. he was genuinely stunned and at a loss for words it was insane. to quote exactly "wow,,,, oh my god. you drew this? I mean like I'm lucky I can walk,,, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" and gave me another big hug. my friends dad wanted a group pictures, so danny turns and goes "squad photo? great let's do it"

after probably 15 minutes he said had to go grab dinner so we told him thank you for everything, and said we hoped to see him again soon. and he went "well I'm working on a secret project right now, I'm not supposed to talk about it yet, but when I can I'll let you guys know". *dead* 

so he left and we walked over to sky Bennett who played Spot/tommy boy. he recognized my friend that was seeing the show for a second time (she's on crutches is not hard) but she gave him a box of mike and Ike's and he goes "oh my god, this is like the first stagedoor gift I've ever gotten, this is amazing!" we all took turns getting pictures with him, at the end of that he turns to me and goes "wait I didn't get one with you, come here" and gives me the biggest most wonderful hug I've ever experienced. a sky hug™. (think hugging the most perfectly muscley teddy bear.) I felt bad because I totally hit him with the bag I had in my hand because he pulled me in to quickly, but of course I was too awkward to say anything. but he rested his head on mine and the world kinda stopped for a minute. 

so we talked for a few minutes with sky, I honestly don't remember what was said, I was intellectually a mess. though I do have a video of him after I took a picture of my friend with him where he goes "oh! hi. I wasn't ready for that one so if I look bad then like bitch delete it" I said no don't worry, you looked great. and he seductively bit his finder and blushed a little. then again we got a group picture, he without hesitation put his arm around my shoulder and pulled he close to him, and I melted. 

anyway he had a friend there that he started talking with. so since it's now been like a half an hour the stagedoor has cleared up quite a bit. we kinda look around to see who's still there and it's really only a few of the actors talking with their families that we didn't want to bother. Danny was still making his way out, but he had stopped to show off my drawing to everyone." (at this point I had fully lost it. everyone says I was chill... I was not) we caught Davis Wayne(albert) just before he went back inside, but it was so quick we didn't say much.

at this point we assume everyone's gone, and we start talking about where we're gonna eat dinner. but as we're talking, none other than Stephen Michael Langton walked out the door behind us after taking his family backstage. we didn't wanna take too much of his time, but we got out playbills signed and got a few pictures. I have him his gift, which was a wooden hanging sign that said "#boojoey" bc that had been his hashtag for the production. and he went "oh my god this is perfect. you know we live together right? I'm gonna put this on his door as soon as we get home." he was just as funny and sweet as you'd expect. 

we now assume joey is long gone and we've missed him, when who comes walking back up the street but Joey Barreiro himself. he goes "you guys are still here?! good, I didn't see many people before I ran to get dinner but I needed some chipotle." and let out the funniest little chuckle. 

he put his stuff down and his water bottle started rolling away, he picked it up and goes "sorry I'm a mess." I said "aren't we all?" and he goes "okay true". we got some pictures and he signed playbills. then I gave him his gift, a water gun with the words "soak 'em for crutchie" written across the side. he said it was great and he would definitely be using it. also someone talking to Trent(jojo) looks over and said that it was the coolest thing they'd ever seen. then I told him to go enjoy his chipotle, he said thanks and left. 

in the meantime we've been there so long that Danny is already back from dinner. so we had another quick word with him and decide that since he went to moe's that we would too lol. so, we walk down to the square where there was a bunch of restaurants. and my group is walking behind sky, across the street from Trent, and in front of Stephen. *shook* so we go sit down in moe's, and since I couldn't eat there (food allergies) I went across the street to chipotle. and who's there but Sky, Trent and James(sniper) I walked right past them bc I didn't want to bother them. but it was SO tempting to walk up and use the line "two times in one day? ya think it's fate ;)" which I didn't but kinda wish I had. 

so I walk back over to moe's where my friends were sitting and my phone buzzes. I look at it and it's a notification from twitter. it was Danny saying thank you for coming. and that he loved his drawing. in that moment I actually froze. because I didn't give him my twitter. we've talked there before but that had been a long time. he not only recognized  me but also knew my twitter???? 

anyways that was probably one of the craziest experiences I've had in a long time, and 100% worth driving 13 hours in one day, in the pouring rain. 

that's not where the story ends, there's always more, but I've talked to sky and Danny a few times since then and it's crazy that I can call them my friends now.

[violetfaust]

Season 6B as it should have been: with Belle.

I’m sorry, I just CANNOT stop with this. It would have been so easy to give Belle the presence she deserved--which the story NEEDED--in this arc. Without interfering with the other characters’ arcs or adding a ton of screentime. 

So I’mma do it. I’m a little handicapped because I only watched half the episodes (which is three times as many as for 6A and more than in S5 entirely), so cut me some slack where needed. 

Under a cut because it got long as fuck. 

6.11: Keep the cut scene in which David and Killy betray Belle by siccing Zelena on Gideon, and Belle does something to save him. This is the scene referenced in Rumbelle’s well conversation when she talks about fighting for Gideon and trusting the wrong people. I’d also make this the scene where Zelena loses her magic--Gideon takes it to defeat her. I’m not sure what could have been cut to fit this in; the Boozer Hook scene in the Wish!Verse stands out as filler, but it was pretty funny. Probably some of the August stuff could be condensed. The cut scene was so important since it showed (or would have) that Belle would compromise her principles for her son, and would set up the Charmings vs. the Stiltskins (and align Rumbelle, and show Belle how much Killy is NOT her friend) right off the bat.

6.12: This was the David/Killy ep? I’m fine leaving Belle and Rumbelle out of it.

6.13: I’m honestly okay with an ep that focused on Rumple’s relationship with Gideon...considering that he had none in 6A, it needed building. But Belle shouldn’t have been left wandering in the woods for all of it. They could have fit in 20 seconds of a scene between her and Blue where Blue apologizes for losing Gideon and Belle forgives her and expresses her guilt, saying Gideon’s fate is all her fault. And then after Rumbelle meet in the woods, Belle could say she was going to the library to research, or whatever--something that made it clear she was being active in the quest to help Gideon. 

6.14: I didn’t even remember what happened in this--it was the Split Queen resolution. So I looked it up, and it was pretty packed--Rumbelle can stay out of it. My change would be to make the Queen and Robin together kidnap Zelena to hold for ransom (instead of the Queen kidnapping Robin). That allows for Zelena to have a scene where she expresses regret for what she did to our Robin, and the sisters become closer when Regina rescues powerless Zee. (And Zee does something useful, whatevs, I don’t care.) 

6.15: Killy ep. A big part of my rewrite is cutting Killy’s excellent adventure completely. In 6.14 he chickens out (no help from Gideon) and leaves with Nemo; in 6.15 he has his centric that goes pretty much the same, and he decides to go back and ~~fight for his wuv~~. Jaladdin wish him back to SB with a parting gift of whatever doohickey he eventually was handed by Tiger Lily. Emma doesn’t fall into his arms and tell him it’s her fault he lied, either. Something something (who cares), they’re not re-engaged; they’re going to work on it. (I don’t care how they get together--barf--but I’m not cleaning up the whole season by getting rid of CY altogether. That’s a bigger project.) Belle and Rumple have a tiny scene when they are also seen at the bar for two-for-one night. (It’s NOT a date, they both agree; but they’re exhausted and need to eat; that’s it; 20 seconds in which Bobby and Em have more sexual tension and longing than CY do in a year). Belle is a witness to Gideon stealing Emma’s tear for some stupid reason (was that ever explained?) and is horrified. Belle/Gideon 10-second exchange of angsty eyes. (I will NEVER EVER EVER  get over Belle not having a single one-on-one scene with her baby boy when he’s all grown up and destroying people.) 

6.16: Gideon ep. Since we’ve gotten rid of Killy/Blackbeard we have about six minutes to play with to split between Belle’s and Zelena’s plots. (So Zee helps Regina with Henry’s author problem. Mills family bonding. Zee can express remorse for killing Henry’s father.) Belle doesn’t just hang out in the shop while Rumple goes to the mansion looking for Gideon; she’s with him every step of the way and sees that Gideon is a betraying betrayer and Rumple is a Big Damn Hero who saves Emma. At the end when Emma tells Belle her kid is dead meat, Belle has seen exactly how bad Gid can be but she defends him all the same. Room for a longer Rumbelle bonding scene.

6.17: Again, no Killy gives us time for Belle and/or Zelena. Since Moe was around filming for (cut, of course) flashbacks for this ep, we finally get the (present-day) scene where Belle confronts him for abandoning her in the sleeping curse, and Rumbelle/Rumple fans get Belle’s realization that Rumple was the only person to fight for her and the baby when she was under the curse. Belle tells Moe that Rumple is a much better father than he will ever be (stand up and cheer moment). Killy does something useful to support Emma (who cares) so their engagement’s back on; Regina still saves Snowing by having the town take the curse; Belle and Moe are among the townspeople who drink the potion along with Archie, dwarves, Zee, and randos. Big but quiet beat between Belle and Regina because Belle is helping the people who are still determined to kill her child if necessary. At the end, Belle is with Rumple when he tells Fifi that he knows she has Gid’s heart; Rumbelle stand united against her, but Fi dismisses Belle and tells Rumple THEY will be a family. Belle is troubled; her face asks, Can she trust Rumple? Will he choose her or Fifi? 

6.18: This is the big one. Sorry, Zelena. It’s a Belle centric in which she finds a way to get to the Dark Realm, and she and Rumple go to try to rescue baby Gideon, or get some deus ex mechanism that would allow them to save him (maybe his heart’s back in this realm? I dunno; I can’t plot worth crap but no one is paying me $$$$ to do it either). Flashbacks: Baby Belle and her mommy, and why Belle can speak/read fairy. (Maybe the BlF made a play for Belle when she was a child.) We also find out the plot of Her Handsome Hero: the knight Gideon faces an evil sorcerer; to defeat him he has to go on a quest for a lot of doodads; he’s aided by a woman who turns out to be the evil sorcereress; Gideon and the sorceress respect and forgive each other for the past; he saves her from vengeful and misguided villagers (a mob with a Gastonish lead) by talking them around, and thus becomes her handsome hero. (This is my version of reconciling what Belle said about the book in H3 with the bit she read to Jack and Jill’s kid in 6.9.) Present: Rumbelle work together all the way, but whatever they try to do fails (of course) and Belle basically loses it and has an “I failed” breakdown, blaming herself for everything. This is the big apology scene that some people want, but it’s more about Belle’s long-term inferiority complex finally coming to the fore. Rumple supports her completely, takes the blame for what he did, and tells her that she’s his hero (echo of the Miller’s Daughter phone call). At the very end, Rumbelle realize that some random thing they discovered in the Dark Realm can protect Gideon from being controlled, but only in his dreams. (This fixes the plot point of whether the BlF can control Gid in dreams, and if she can’t, why he was being such a dick in the first place, trying to break up Rumbelle and engineer his own kidnapping.) Belle thanks Rumple for not giving up, and he says, “When you find something worth fighting for, you never give up.” (Cue sobs from Belle and us.)

6.19: Plays out almost exactly as it did. Belle giving Rumple her trust has much more weight now, though, because we’ve seen him earn it back onscreen. (And maybe they both decide to “kidnap” Emma to the dream world because they can’t trust her.) The main difference is that Belle is the one who saves Regina from the BlF by running out into the street (the fight takes place ten seconds from the pawnshop) and braining Fifi over the back of her head with Her Handsome Hero. (Stand up and cheer moment.)

6.20: Snow mentions at the bachelorette party that Belle sent the dresses but couldn’t come because she’s spending time with Gideon. Two seconds of communion between Snow and Emma how weird and hard and yet somehow cool it is to have a child your own age, and how they hope that Belle and Gid can become as close as Emma and Snow are. (Or a little more bittersweet, acknowledgment that maybe Emma and Snow have not always been as close as they want to be. Big hug. Uses Belle and Gid as a springboard for a Snow/Emma beat.) Cut the Rumple/Killy scene, which only served to make Killy into a vengeful asshole on his wedding day and make his vows to Emma look like lies. Replace with Belle and Gideon on the Jolly Roger, packing up Belle’s stuff because they are both moving into the Pink Palace. We can leave the mystery in this scene about whether Rumple has filled them in on his plan, or whether he’s actually working with the BlF and is a betraying betrayer who is keeping them in the dark. Belle shows Gideon some of the stuff she bought for his baby self (the teddy bear, some little onesies), and plays him the tape Rumple made of the poem. They are so happy to be together now, but aching because of what they’ve lost and what Gid’s childhood turned out to be. Very very bittersweet; ends with Belle singing a few lines of a lullabye (her contribution to the musical; maybe she starts singing along with Rumple’s voice on the tape). Cut to Gideon’s tears and mine.

6.21/22: Since Belle has had so much more presence through the REST of the season, it’s actually okay with me if she’s offstage for most of 6.21 (as she was).to keep the mystery of whether Rumple has his memories. But it feels as if their scene in the murder house was definitely cut short; so weird for Rumple to just nope out with a  “Okay, sorry to bother you, just keep cowering back there, never mind me.” So continue it for a minute or so, with Rumple gently coaxing cursed Belle out, giving her the courage to come meet her son. He takes her to the pawnshop with him, to Fifi’s horror. Angsty moment and tears between cursed Belle and cursed Gid. (Possibly she kisses him and breaks his personal curse, the way he did for her in 6.1?) Fifi then shows the whole family that Gid is under her control, with agony for all that he is being forced to blacken his soul despite everything they’ve all done to save him; maybe Gideon actually says something like he wishes he’d never been born. (Or something else so we know grown Gid is okay with being rebabyfied.) Fifi poofs him off to kill Emma, and makes her offer to Rumple that he can have this family and also Baelfire. Belle witnesses Rumple choosing reality and killing his mum. Then everything proceeds as in the real ep. Rumbelle go to the mines to find Gid’s heart. I’m a little torn here because I love the fact that Rumple (like Regina and UNLIKE a certain other someone) always resists temptation and does the right, heroic thing WITHOUT someone pointing him in the right direction and waving pompoms to cheer him on. So keeping his scene between him and his DO imp private would be good. I guess Belle doesn’t sprain her ankle, but they split up because the mines are labyrinthine and they’re trying to cover more ground. Rumple does the right thing, but it fails. He goes back to meet Belle, they comfort each other in their darkest moment, and then baby Gideon appears--only this time there’s some callback to SOMETHING they did in the Dark Realm rather than it just happening out of the clear blue sky. And we’re back to the episode as written.

(via @belle-gifs)

See? WAS THAT SO HARD? With the exception of adding Belle’s centric, most of these changes would give her only about a minute or two more per ep--but they are significant minutes. 

[laidbackmarco]

So this marks the second art challenge that I have completed the other one being the draw 100 challenge in which I drew 100 feet. I shoulda drawn hands but Oh well there is always another day. . . Like everything in life it seemed to just whiz on by, but hey 31 drawings in 34 days, always have to go with that Filipino Time. . . although I am trying to address that and am reading books revolving around self improvement and the like.

My first day of inktober was a carefree experience I whipped out my sumi ink, a g-pen, and some brushes and began my work. I even had time to look at reference of my piece while making the fox girl from the fate series. I enjoyed making this piece despite all the errors that I made. Ink was unforgiving and every wrong move made is impossible to fix without, but it also shows you where the holes in my technique would be.

The second day of inktober was mostly the same as the first plenty of time to relax and just do me. The prompt was divided which made me think of myself, I have always felt different, not superior or anything grandiose like that, just different. It probably something to do with being one of the few brown kids at my school, the eczema, or the allergies. . . I mean do I really belong on this planet with all of these things that are wrong with me?? I am still struggling with my self-esteem issues and finding out where I belong in this crazy world, but I’m learning how to learn about myself, reading, writing, and discovering myself one piece at a time.

Poison.. .not much for originality here. I couldn’t really think of anything other than alcohol or drugs and that didn’t seem like something I wanted to draw and represent me to all who would see this. Cassiopeia is quite literally a champion that uses snake poison. I wish I could’ve come up with something deep and stuff but sometimes simple is good too. I decided to go with my simple chibi style and make the face I call the Aoba face, because it’s a typical face that Aoba makes. Trying to make something like a medusa seem cute was quite a challenge and originally I was going to make a comic where cass spooked Katarina, but then Kat just gives her the really look and continues about her day. Cass would then look down and laugh awkwardly. I was really proud of this drawing because I used reference of Cassiopeia and made it my own in away.

  Underwater, the feeling of drowning and hopelessness is something I feel every now and then. It’s not something that I like to openly express, other than typing away on my internet blog obviously, but that feeling seeps into my being every now and then. The interesting about one of my favorite Vocaloid songs (I haven’t listened to Vocaloid in a while T-T) Deep Sea Girl takes a cute character who is often seen smiling, and paints her in a different light. The sad, longing, and lonely girl realizes that some of her sinking is self inflicted. Thankfully the story for this girl ends happily . . . I’m still waiting for mine although my song is a lot longer than three minutes.

  Ink is a very unforgiving medium, I couldn’t seem to get the pose I liked Drawing her hair with a brush was proving difficult the giving up of tight control was very difficult for me to do.

This piece frustrated me to no end!!! I tried to use reference sheets, poses, and even some ink drawings for inspiration to draw my favorite sword art online characters, but alas I think it’s one of my worst drawings so far. It was so hard to draw two characters in the same place and keep the proportions and style consistent. Also the reason it looks like a frankenstein freakshow is because the references were pulled from all over the place. It makes me even more sad because these characters are some of my favorites from the franchise and I felt I was letting them down by butchering them. I remember going to my first con Sakuracon and watching ABEC draw Asuna live. .. I didn’t know whether to be inspired or to throw away my dreams once again. Watching a dream die is something I’ve had to do over and over again.

  This drawing looks okay, but to say I am proud of it would be a lie. I was getting so frustrated with drawing, and where I am in life. Currently working two jobs, living at home, and having all my pursuits go as far as a wet paper airplane, that I just wanted to draw something that looked nice. I don’t trust my anatomy, poses, eye or anything I do so I looked at one of the still frames from one of my favorite anime series and drew myself in the same poses one of my favorite characters in the franchise. The character has lived much longer than me, but I feel that same existential void. . .I keep searching for the meaning that I can never find anywhere. The fleeting feeling I carry has me wondering why I should grasp at anything at all?

  I drew this in the Diner I worked at while having breakfast with my mom. . . it was one of those days where I could just relax and live, do something I enjoyed, and spend a moment in time with her. It’s one of those weird special things that didn’t seem as great as it was in the moment, but it is a precious memory to me. While there a fellow artist told me I needed to work on proportion, and trust me I do not have much pride in my art or my being. How do I work on proportion I ask myself? I don’t protect myself and say it’s for the sake of style. Its just that proportion for artists differ even within one style such as anime. When characters are in motion or performing jaw dropping actions proportions shift. I guess I could just google proportion exercises on and work on some of those, but I am choosing to go through the Ctrl Paint tutorials. . .when I find the time. . . I wanted to tell him I was trying to improve. . . That nothing my hands touched could ever turn to gold. That I felt life closing in on my dreams and piercing them. . .causing them to start to slowly start bleeding.

Ewww!! Obviously inspired by the initial D comic, but I did this on my ten minute break. . . with no reference. It looks bad, but I read something or heard something from someone that said if you want a dream, you must take a small step towards it everyday. One pluck, one drop, one sketch towards that thing you see in your mind. That day I took that step on my ten minute break.

This drawing probably looks like a ten year old’s fan drawing of Saber. . . but I’m so proud of this drawing. I’m proud because this was an original composition, pose, and the character actually had some semblance of Saber. I think that inside of myself there is that ten year old kid that I left behind at some point in my life when I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. I was that kid who like Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokemon, and so many other shows and things. . . but what happened to that boy? Why did I become so afraid of being myself.

  People reacted to this drawing. I got comments and likes 15. . . which is a lot for a loser like me mind you, but it felt empty and not deserved. I had taken a screenshot from Porter Robinson’s Shelter Music video and drew it. I heard that people look down on artists who do this, and I feel bad about it trust me, but I wanted to make something that I thought looked good with my hands. To prove to myself that I could do it, but I had felt even worse then I did before I made it. She’s so cute though. Having a virtual world to explore and make everyday doesn’t sound to terrible. . . I mean as long as you can change what your avatar looks like too. I realize that sometimes I use virtual worlds to run away from the one that I’m in, but my brain always asks if this world I’m in is as solid as it seems.

Shattered I was thinking of doing something where a character’s reflection was being broken up on a mirror falling, but that sounded way out of my current skillset so I decided to finally start making a comic shipping two characters from league of legends. . . because Sona and Ahri why not anyway making League of Legends Comics is something Zulidoodles handles way better, but I have my own idea of what League characters would be like outside of killing each other. It’s super moe slice of life dumb stuff though, because yeah. . .

“Hey look a badly drawn city that’s supposed to be teeming with life” cute girls saying mean things. . .That’s not actually what I had in mind when drawing, it was more like “look at the city at night it’s so beautiful with all the lights shining” but I’m happy with the way this drawing turned out even though the anatomy is probably messed up to all end. . . also awkward hands. . . sorry. I was trying to show shading oppostite of what I’m used to doing and having light come from the city itself, but I don’t think I was successful in that.

The Evelynn rework looks good. . . like sexy and way more modern than the old Eve. But with that character design some of those Rioters are into some crazy stuff. .  Can I join?? I mean the company and everything. Get your head out of the gutter. But yeah I think the whole thing really fits her character of Agony’s Embrace. . . kind of like a more tempting more deadly and less graceful version of Ahri. She’s fierce gaining pleasure through the pain of others. Also the two lashers are an interesting addition.

  I couldn’t find it in myself that day I messed up on the face and was so defeated. I think I was streaming during this too. I remember being defeated. Ink was so cruel if you made a mistake there was no going back it was just there. I had originally planned to make it more dark and mysterious like a good rogue, assassin, ninjaeqsue character should be, but I was defeated and demoralized when that went wrong. It was the third week when I began working two jobs and lived with no day off. I always think to myself. as I’m sitting here making someone else’s dream come true, there is another artist out there working on his craft. I wanted to break my pens, which I had bought due to the time constraints I was putting myself on. I wanted to throw stuff and rip the picture, but that really wouldn’t accomplish anything at the end of the day. So I sat defeated, energy drained, until I let the sweet embrace of sleep take me away.

  Day Sixteen was Fat so I drew Maki from Porter Robinson and Mat Zo’s Easy. Easy is a song I actually like more than shelter and the Character Maki is just awesome and no not just because of her looks. Also that familiar thing is cute. Anyway the animation is so good and the painterly style is so easy to fall in love with. I get amazed every time I look at it. I drew this because I’m trying to study music producers and make songs that share certain elements from them, but I haven’t worked on this track for a good week or two. . . going to work on a track after not is like playing skyrim or fallout after you put it down for a month. You forget the state of things and where you are going, but you’re far enough along that it would be a pain in the ass to restart. I want to finish that song and my EP but life is bending me over right now.

  I messed up the face again and I was ready to just give up the whole stupid inktober thing right then and there. In my mind were thoughts like, it’s not like you’ll actually get better anyway and I wasn’t born with this special thing that some people seem to have, and although people deny it I believe in it’s existence. I almost cried after messing this up. . . fun fun fun inktober

  After my day of defeat I decided the next day that I was gonna take it easy so on this day I decided to use those overpriced art markers I bought and just ink and color one of my sketches. There was supposed to be paint over Sona’s face to signify Filthy, but the bed was calling my name and I was exhausted so all you get is a badly colored Sona. This is one of my first times dealing with alcohol markers though the cash from the job allowed me to purchase them. They’re not Copics, but hey they get the job done. . . it’s probably the artist in this case that’s for damn sure.

  Another one of my dreams yet crushed by the cruel world we live, sometimes that is reality. I tried so hard to get good enough at the game I loved to play, but the reality is sometimes even when you try as hard as you can you’re not good enough. I tried so many things to get it to work to, on my stream so I could play this game more to hopefully improve. I still try as a matter of fact. Perhaps if the fabric of reality was as light and fluffy as the clouds that I dream of, they would shift and mold into the reality that I want to see. At the same time what I want now is a symptom of all that I have experienced up to this point. . would it be the same if I was living the dream I conjured up in my mind. Like Maki. . . she seems to have everything , but she is still dissatisfied with her life. If future lives are a thing I want to be able to mold and craft mine. . . but then put myself in it and forget that I designed it in the first place. The cloud9 I knew and loved is gone, the team of meteos, balls, hai, sneaky, and lemonnation. Those days are over, the definition of cloud9 is a state of euphoria almost like a high, and that’s a feeling I haven’t felt in awhile. That feeling is as unattainable as the dream itself. Also I didn’t like how I colored this one I’m poop tier with alcohol markers. . . alright that’s learned.

Yes but look at my facebook I’m so happy I’m always happy all the time I shit rainbows and poop butterflies and money seems to just fall right out of my ass. As you can tell I’m not a very optimistic person, but sometimes it gets tiring to be so fake maybe one day I’ll be randomly selected to receive 1/10th of a nigerian princes fortune after I send him the $4000 dollars he needs to get the money first. Anyway the prompt was broken and I decided to be a smartass and be melodramatic . . . long story short.

Furious. .. am I salty yes I’m fucking pissed . not at anyone or anything really, just the fact that I’m alive and I have existential angst everyday. I feel like a cat that’s being teased with a toy it will never get. I always dream I’ll get to a place where my life has impact and meaning  but I always think myself into a corner where I contemplate the point of doing anything at all. Ughoijaeoifjaewoijfaowe Rage typing

On the front porch of my house my dad and I used to hang out. He would smoke his Marlboro Menthol Lights and we would just sit there together looking at the city at night. We listened to the sounds of seals on the docks, foghorns, and planes flying overhead.

This is one of the artworks that I actually liked drawing and although it is far from perfect I liked one of my drawings. That is a rare event, but I guess it can happen. If your wondering about the process I literally looked up a bunch of pictures of cute korean girls way out of my league and pictures of D.V.A. although there were still moments were I would be extremely frustrated. I get the feeling that I’m just not good enough at drawing and just feel impending doom. Sometimes I actually enjoy drawing.

And after I made a drawing I liked I made a drawing that I despised. . . I remember dropping the ink on her neck and feeling deflated .. . also I don’t think I did Senjougahara justice… and hands bleh haands… the facial shape is nreally bad too.. bruhgh. Although if I was blind I wouldn’t even be able to see my shitty drawings. . . If I became blind and wasn’t able to see I think I would be happy even being able to see this poopy drawing again.

  This was another one of those . . .I need a confidence boost drawings. .  I looked at a screenshot of Aoi Nanami from Yozakura Quartet. I practiced using these overpriced copic markers that I bought ..  .and I say that sarcastically because they are probably some of the best markers I’ve used to this date.

I drew this in “my style” which I’m trying to change because I don’t like it, again practicing with those overpriced markers. . . I drew this for me on my time and I enjoyed drawing it. . . I had fun while drawing, but I got salty when I looked at it after sigh

Another comic. .. about effort and my pondering if it is really worth it in the end. . . Some people have magic wizard and people like me don’t I wish there were some special spark I had, but I just don’t in fact it’s the opposite really I’m so painstakingly average that I might as well be the invisible man.

Fall. . . I drew this because there isn’t a day in my life where I don’t think . . . it would be so much easier to just end my life. . . I wouldn’t have to experience all the pain in the ass that is existence. . . I always say whats the point in stopping me. I thought about it how would I do it. . . pills, bleach, a gun…  don’t have one of those, falling off of something, . . the bridge by my house, a building downtown, or perhaps the narrows. . . I think it’s the combination of depression and curiosity, the ultimate first person science experience. . . really going into the unknown.

Fusion Ha

Super Moe being fusion dance. . . not much to say here other than my cousin taught me a lot about dragon ball z I finally watched it, but I haven’t gotten the chance to watch super yet . I want to watch so many anime, but time is crushing me into the ground.

I’m looking for something. . . I have no idea what that something is, but when I find it I’ll let you know.

mask on fuck it mask on

The scene where ichigo puts the hollow mask on and fights grimmjow is one of the coolest scenes I’ve seen in a Shounen to this date. . . I know the scene is longer then 11 seconds, but that is due to the limitations of the medium not being able to explain thoughts without saying them in real time as opposed to the manga where it’s all there.

  Well theres all my inktober drawings, I think I did most of them, some get lost and stuff because I would do them on random pieces of paper.  . October surely is a scary month. What I learned was ink drawings are a pain, but it actually feels nice to use traditional media every now and again. There is no control z in real life though.

Inktober 2017 So this marks the second art challenge that I have completed the other one being the draw 100 challenge in which I drew 100 feet.

[basketballandbs-blog]

Western Conference First Round Playoff Preview

We made it y’all. After a regular season that gave us two of the greatest single season performances of all time, provided us with quite possibly one of the most surprising regular season bodies of work in some years and marked as the coming out party for a team that has given us another reason to believe in the power of defense first basketball we have made it to one of the most exhilarating postseason events in all of professional sports. The NBA Western Conference Playoffs.

Warriors and Spurs and Rockets OH MY! AND at least three other REALLY interesting teams that will most likely manage to make life much harder for the frontrunners than they expect. In terms of the first round we have some super intriguing matchups and a few pairings that we should expect to be more or less decided by this time next week. Anywho let’s strap in and get down to the nitty gritty of this hateful eight.

  #1. Golden State Warriors vs. #8. Portland TrailBlazers

In this rematch of last season Western Conference semi-final matchup we see the Dubs coming off of another historically dominant regular season cruising into the playoffs just as they are getting their full cadre of weapons back while Portland had a much more arduous path to the postseason overcoming a slow start to reel off a 17-8 mark post All-Star break including 7-3 in the last 10 to secure the final spot by one game over the Denver Nuggets.

Warriors will win if they………

Start strong. As mentioned up top Portland is a team coming into the playoffs with a full head of steam and despite not being able to match them evenly on paper they’re possibly the team that is least afraid of the Dubs in the West. To help extinguish this they should look to take control early preferably through a convincing opening win at home. And as per usual they have the tools to do it. The old gang is back with Steph doing Steph things (25-4-6 and 41% from 3), Klay in the running to officially steal the moniker The Silent Killer away from cancer (22 & 4 also going for 41% from 3) and the anything but silent killer Draymond Green (10-8-7 and 2 steals per contest). But as many has though the addition of Kevin Durant may be the factor that can make this series a cakewalk. Sure his 25-8-5 on 54% shooting (yes, that’s not transposed) is probably enough to bolster the Dubs to an easy ticket to round 2 it’s his defense that especially when in concert with Green and Thompson stands to do a great job in stifling any progress the Blazers may be working towards. And the bench is still pretty damned good too.

Blazers will win if they…………

KEEP THE FIRE BURNING!!! Yeah, technical prognostications won’t work here because they are technically inferior by just about every measure. Their only hope in having a rat’s ass of a chance at getting this done is if they play with reckless abandon while still achieving near perfection on the court. No biggie. They have the dudes to spearhead this as you all know in Dame Lillard 27-5-6 and C.J. McCollum 23-4-4 on 42% from 3 and a very game set of complimentary guys in Moe Harkless, Al-Farouq Aminu, Allen Crabbe (who should be back for Game 1). The addition of Jusef Nurkic has been great for them but is recovering from a leg injury that has sidelined him for at least the first game of the series. Simple and plain, what they will have to do in order to pull this off will have to exceed what can be seen on paper but it would look great on paper also.

H.B. says…………..Dubs in 5 

 #4. Los Angeles Clippers vs. #5. Utah Jazz

Ah, the basketball nerds pick for best series this round. On one hand we have the as effective as they are unlikeable Clips against the basketball nerd community new darling team (myself included) Utah Jazz. It may not yield the excitement of say and OKC x Houston series but believe me we’re going to get some very interesting meetings out of this one. I’m just happy this one wasn’t relegated to NBATV.

Clips will win if they………

Win the each individual match up. Okay, let me explain. Utah is a good team, a very good team actually but what they doing isn’t rocket surgery. They shoot the ball well, the defend the ever loving shit out of anything not donning their colors and they play a brand of uncomplicated yet very efficient and cohesive basketball. But what L.A. has to break that up is superior talent in spots. Paul is better than Hill (although Hill has had a wonderful season), Redick is better than Hood (may be vice versa in two season but for now…..) and Blake is better than Favors (well…..yeah). If they exploit these matchups and find a way to win the toss-up between Rudy “The Stifle Tower” Gobert and Deandre Jordan as well as patch enough defense to slow Gordon Hayward down this may be the key to pulling this out.

Jazz will win if they………

Have Gordon Hayward answer the challenge issued by this being his (and most of the Jazz for that fact) first playoff appearance. This is actually a pretty good introductory series to the postseason since Utah has a rabid fanbase and the Clips…….well we’re not sure if the Clips like themselves so no one’s really buying the whole homecourt advantage thing. The Jazz also feature a bench that matches up really well will LA. Through the progression of guys like Trey Lyles, Shelvin Mack and Dante Exum paired with the contributions of trusted vets Boris Diaw and Joe Johnson they may be able to gain a considerable edge over the Clips in this department.

H.B. says…………….Jazz in 6

 #3. Houston Rockets vs. #6 Oklahoma City Thunder

First round matchup featuring the top 2 MVP candidates? Yeah, this may turn a few heads. So, if you’re not downright fanatical and only have a finite amount of time to watch playoff ball this is the series to watch. Houston clearly the surprise of the season against Oklahoma City powered by not only the little engine that not only could but have rewritten the record books. And there’s a lot of other stuff to unpack here also.

Rockets will win if they………

Do what got them here. It’s really that easy. Let James Harden powering the Rockets through a 29-8-11 (yeah you read that right) line set the pace, let your shooters Eric Gordon 37% from 3, Pat Beverly 38%, Ryan Anderson 40% and Lou Williams (if he can find some consistency) do their thing and let your defenders Beverly again, Trevor Ariza and Clint Capela go to work trying to keep up with Brody and Co. A+B+C=W. If the Beard can facilitate as well as get to the hole with ease (which is totally his thing), then he can create numerous open looks for his guys and if they can control the pace and successfully throw different looks at Westbrook and anyone else that can create for the Thunder they can grab the upper hand here and make OKC play from behind. Simple equation, no so simple to execute.

Thunder will win if they……….

Surprise surprise, Russy has to go full Russy on em’ from start to finish. They’re going to need every bit of his 31-10-10 (yeah you read that right) and even more. Unfortunately for OKC a lot more will be needed to take out the Rockets. Between Victor Oladipo, Andre Roberson, Taj Gibson and Stephen Adams the Thunder actually present a formidable defensive front to challenge Houston. What the Thunder need more than our Tangerine in Chief needs Twitter is someone else to create. Oladipo is their second leading scorer at 16 per night but his consistency in doing so has been categorized best as fits and starts. Honestly, this will be the perfect time for one of the many warm bodies that round out the OKC roster to show signs of life on the offensive end. Kanter provides a punch in the post but if Abrines, McDermott, Sabonis, hell even if A Rob can let it fly or prove to be effective at getting to the rack that will make Westbrook’s impact even more terrifying.

H.B. says……………Thunder in 7

 #2. San Antonio Spurs vs. #7 Memphis Grizzlies

Another year, another playoff appearance we all know will end up being ill-fated for the Grit n’ Grind Grizzlies. Also in this case they have the pleasure of getting a rematch with the team that bounced them out of the playoffs with ease last year. And to be honest the San Antonio Spurs couldn’t be happier. The Spurs cruising to a Spursy 61 wins in the Spursiest way possible have looked a bit flat as of late going .500 in their last ten but remember these are the Spurs. Essentially, this appears to be a five game exercise for Pop to figure out how in the hell he’s going to deal with whatever comes out of the Rockets x Thunder battle. But Memphis being Memphis ain’t gonna lay down that easily.

Spurs will win if they………

Don’t let the science experiment get out of hand. Sure they may be slumping a bit (and it speaks a lot to the Spurs’ organization that you can legitimately consider going .500 over the final 10 a slump) but they always turn it on in the playoffs. Kawhi Leonard emerging as the clear cut alpha dog this year as well as throwing his hat in the MVP race bag behind 25-6-4 and 2 steals while nailing almost 40% of his threes is going to really flex his muscles here to rush himself into shape in hopes of being prepared for next round. Sure he’s ready but this looks to be a big series for Danny Green and the dual point guard attack in Tony Parker and Patty Mills. San Antonio will do just fine here making use of their extended rotation. But with all of that said they should be careful not to get so caught up in playing chess that they neglect the checkers match right in front of them.

Grizzlies will win if………..

Spurs play way down and the Grizzlies play way up.  However, this is pretty unlikely given that Memphis slumped their way into the playoffs also. The Grizz are 9-15 since the All-Star break and hasn’t shown any real signs whipping themselves into shape anytime soon. Mike and Marc will give it everything they got. Conley coming off of a 20 points and 6 dimes per night campaign while Gasol went for 19 and 6 boards. Z-Bo and JaMychal Green stand to dominate the post with Marc. But as has been the problem with Memphis for seems like a decade now they have to figure out who’s going to shoot. Conley has hit from deep with 38% accuracy but with him being the primary ball handler complicates this. Daniels has been good for them but his deficiencies on the other end keeps him from seeing extended minutes. Gasol is good for one or two a game but his hardly provides the volume or consistency needed to swing the series. It’ll take a pretty big implosion for this one to happen.

H.B. says……………Spurs in 5

 -H.B.

[abunchoffandomsmushedtogether]

Paladin Pickup Lines!

Before you say anything it took me 20 mins to come up with that title so you stfu about cheesiness, aight? A headcannon of all of the paladins (And the Alteans) best pickup lines. Also language warning. I apologize in advance for anyone who wanted serious pickup lines from Pidge, but yknow.

Lance

-Of course he’s first, why not? -This boi.

-Every damn cheesy pickup line ever.

-It’s so sweet and dirty and the same time. You’ll be torn between blushing and slapping him.

-Every

-Damn

-Time

-Most notable three pickup lines?

-”Do you need a glass of water? Cause baby, that ass is on fire!” He tried it on Keith. Things happened. No more explanation needed.

- “Those clothes are nice, but they’d look better on my bedroom floor.” Keith: I don’t get it. Lance: ¯\_ಠ╭╮ಠ_/¯ Bro.

- “Who stole the stars and put them in your eye(s)?” This one made Keith blush. A lot.

-He sometimes has troubles figuring out who isn’t taken, but that never stops him. He has an incredible radar for age and sexuality though, it’s scary~

Keith

-He tried. Not really, but you get the gist of it. 

-Purposely fucks them up, probably.

-It’s canon that he’s a genius, so I wouldn’t be surprised.

-Honestly, he just changes them to more mothman-ified or gory version every damn time to scare off whoever Lance made Keith’s target that day.

-He succeeded(s) every time.

-Until the fateful Coran incident, that is.

-Somehow he always knows who’s old enough for him to be flirting with and who’s taken. It’s scary. 

-He tends to use more goofy ones, less cheesy, more funny?

-Most notably uses, “Do you need a glass of blood? wonk wonk”, “I love you almost as a much as mothman. Like a three out of a possible five.” and “Hey Lance.” Yeah, I ship it fite me  

-Another funny one is when Lance tried to help him ‘learn’ to properly flirt. Keith: “Hey, cutie, are you a tall glass of-” looks at Lance over the shoulder of potential date, to see him gesticulating wildly, like so. (づಠ╭╮ಠ)づ “-vinaigrette?” Lance: ლ(ಠᨎಠლ)

-Honestly, Keith just thinks it’s cute when Lance tries to help him. That’s all.

Allura

-Dis chick.

-You think she’d be outta the loop after ten thousand years

-But nope.

-Pickup lines are FIRE.

-They are the reason pickup lines are still worth using.

-Her pickup lines are that good.

-Like she’ll tie someone’s shoes and tell them “I don’t want you falling for anyone but me.”

-”Wow, and here I was thinking I had already seen the most beautiful sights in the galaxy.” 

-Or “Wow, I thought I had seen every star in our galaxy, but I guess I missed you the first time around” Just a romantic little suave cornball. Lance would be weeping in his grave if he were dead.

-She will use these pickup lines on anyone she finds attractive that is confirmed to be single and old enough to be legal. Our girl aint a pedophile.(Actually that rule applies to everyone, just keep that in mind for the rest, alright?) BI AF, tbh. Alteans would just form relationships with whomever they found attractive, gender aside, probably.

-This girl is good at pickup lines. Not much else to add.

Pidge/Katie Holt

-Oh. Every bad Kabe Don meme ever. Including the one below, that’s been used multiple times. Always on Keith, because HEIGHT IS A THING YO.

-Actual pickup lines are questionable at best. “I’m underage, Fuckass.”, “I’m not legal, but you are kind of cute.”, and “Stop shipping me with an adult fuckheads.” “My love for Harambe is better than this shit. And he’s a dead meme.” “I am ten years younger than Shiro whaT ThE HELL?!” “Your face is slightly less annoying than Lance’s.” “My older brother and dad are in the military, fuck off.”

-Honestly, their game is weak.

-Most people actually think they’re cute when they do this though, kind of a Gap Moe because of their language and appearance? Space Dad has had some incidents where he had to intervene with someone a little too insistent about Pidge really being legal, which they aren’t... in the end things were fine and Shiro and Pidge ended up bonding over it, so it wasn’t so bad.

-A meme in life, a meme in death, a meme in love. Matt would be proud.

Hunk

-The puns. They are disgusting. Mostly baker-food themed, disgusting lovey dovey puns. All the time. 

-”Is your dad a baker? Because you are pretty sweet!~,<3″ How’d he say <3? The world will never know...

-He finds all the food themed pickup lines he can and changes them to be nicer. All the time.

-A giant fluffbutt. Just super nice. Refuses to swear at all in them. And never uses pickup lines on anyone who looks remotely young or like they could be taken. Almost never uses his lines tbh

-”Are you a magician? Because everyone else disappears when I see you!”

-This man will bake you anything if he likes you. ANYTHING.

Shiro

-T H I S MAN Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

-He usually doesn’t use pickup lines, but when he does, it puts Allura to shame.

-He is a pro at having a good pickup line for any damn situation.

-It’s fucking s c a r y

-Oh your care broke down? -Insert mechanic pickup line?-

-And the transition is always flawless too. 

-If he thinks you’re attractive and knows you’re legal, he will not stop until you are a stuttering, blushing mess.

-”I used to think my favorite constellation was Orion, but I think I just found my new favorite in your eyes.”

-”I used to think beauty wasn’t real. Then I saw you.” -These, but like 10x smoother. Seriously. And he doesn’t discriminate. He will use pickup lines like that on anyone he thinks has a nice personality. Haggar’s just jealous of Allura, obvi

-He and Matt used to practice together all the time, Shiro really didn’t need the practice, not that Matt would have told him.

Coran

-Wtf

-This man is literally space Nigel Thornberry

-What do you think he’s gonna do?

-In all honesty, he never uses pickup lines

-He’ll just offer to share his weird hair growth products or whatever. 

-That’s all.

-Seriously.

-Okay, I lied.

-He will call you smashing. 

-But that’s it. 

-He has absolutely no flirtation ability at all.

-Whatsoever.

Kaltenecker

-Yeah. I made my fav character the special guest. Don’t judge.

-”Are you my weird hovering platform thing? Because you MOOO-ve me in a way like no other.” -That’s it.

-He is a literal cow.

-What more did you want.

Notes

So, first off, credits to my friend for helping me, sort of even though her help was just making me procrastinate. Second off, I stayed up way too late to write this, woooo~ As a little update, I’ll be working on the food one tomorrow/this morning when I’m not tired and cranky. Cause I really just want to sleep now. -Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this monstrosity! -Mun Fyre

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 24

Last time, Gold went to Storybrooke, and Belle’s waters broke

[AO3]

x

“Mr Gold, thank you so much for dealing with this so quickly.”

Mary Margaret Blanchard both looked and sounded relieved, and Gold could understand why. The leak in her bathroom had been fixed, but not before water had soaked through the ceiling and fused the kitchen lights.

“I don’t even know how it happened,” she went on. “I could have sworn everything was turned off.”

“One of the pipes was damaged,” he said. “Took a knock somehow, cracked it in two places. I’ve had the plumber replace it. Good as new.”

He ran his eyes over the ceiling, where damp patches still showed, and made a note in the little book he kept for repairs and tenant complaints.

“Minimal damage, it seems,” he said. “I’ll have someone come out and repaint as soon as it’s dry. We may need to replace one of the panels, but I’m sure it won’t require any major works.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress with her hands. “Uh - may I offer you some tea?”

Gold eyed her curiously before clicking the end of his pen and slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat with the notebook. Miss Blanchard was a good tenant, but even she had never offered him tea before.

“No, thank you,” he said. “I need to head back to Boston.”

“Oh yes, Mr Dove mentioned that you’d only be in Storybrooke today,” she said, and hesitated. “Um - I hope you don’t mind my asking, but Granny said that you and Belle are expecting a baby.”

Gold felt himself smile.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I think pretty much everyone in town was in a state of shock,” she said, with a tiny laugh, pressing a hand to her heart. “We had no idea you were even seeing each other!”

“Well, that’s the unavoidable consequence of not telling anyone, I suspect,” he remarked.

“Moe didn’t say a word!”

“I think he preferred to pretend it wasn’t happening,” he said coolly.

“Right.” She looked as though she was about to burst from curiosity. “Could you give me Belle’s number? I’d love to catch up with her, give her my best wishes.”

Gold had a vision of every woman in Storybrooke suddenly clamouring to get in touch with Belle, and he gave Miss Blanchard a tiny smile.

“Why don’t I give her your number, and a message that you’d like to speak to her?” he suggested. “The baby is due next week, you see. She’s somewhat preoccupied with that at the moment.”

“Oh, of course!”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out, smiling slightly as he saw Belle’s name flashing on the screen.

“Excuse me,” he said, turning away from Miss Blanchard a little and swiping the screen to answer.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m just about ready to head back.”

“Yeah, you might want to step on it.” Emma’s voice floated out of the phone. “Belle’s waters broke.”

Gold felt as though a fist was closing around his heart, squeezing the life from him.

“What?” he whispered.

“Is that Belle?” asked Miss Blanchard. “Say hi from me.”

“She’s in labour,” said Emma patiently, as Gold reminded himself to breathe. “Probably got a while to wait before there’s any real action, but I’m gonna call the midwife after I get off the phone to you. If she tells us to go to hospital, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Tell him to get his arse back here right now!”

Gold could hear Belle in the background, her voice strained, and Emma chuckled a little.

“You heard her, big guy,” she said. “Drive safe, okay? We’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you,” he said numbly, and the call cut off.

Gold slipped the phone back into his pocket, his heart thumping hard. The baby. The baby is coming. I have to get there. I have to be with her.

“Is she okay?”

Miss Blanchard’s voice cut through his inner terror, and he started.

“Yes, thank you,” he managed. “I’ll - uh - I’ll get Mr Dove to arrange the painting. Please let him know if you have any other issues.”

“Thank you, Mr Gold. Are you sure you won’t have that tea?”

Gold was already on his way out, letting the door close behind him, and barely heard her. He walked as swiftly as his limp would allow, heading back to the shop to grab the few things he had boxed up to take with him, and locking the doors behind him. Within five minutes he was on the road, senses heightened by anxiety as he headed back down to Boston. The baby’s coming. I’m gonna be a father.

x

“Is he coming?” Belle could hear the low-level panic in her voice, and told herself to calm down. “What did he say?”

“He’s leaving now,” Emma assured her, looking through her phone contacts. “What’s your midwife’s name?”

“Oh - Dorothy. Dorothy Gale.”

“Okay.”

Emma put the phone to her ear again, and Belle began to pace back and forth. She was dimly aware of Emma talking, but paid little attention, rubbing at her aching back as she traversed the lounge.

“How long until the baby gets here?” asked Henry excitedly. “Does Belle have to go to hospital?”

“That’s what Mom’s asking about,” said Neal, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go sit down and read until we know what’s happening, okay?”

“Okay, thanks a lot.” Emma looked up, handing the phone to Belle. “She says come on in. You have everything you need?”

“In the hall,” said Belle anxiously. “But - Alex! Will he get here in time?”

“Of course he will,” said Emma soothingly. “He’s on his way right now. We’ll call him when you get to the hospital, let him know where you are, okay?”

“I should never have told him to go to Maine!” She was fretful, her pace quickening. “He wanted to stay with me and I told him to go! What was I thinking?”

“He’ll be back in plenty of time,” said Neal easily. “You’re gonna be yelling at him before you know it.”

Belle burst into a laugh that sounded a little hysterical, and Emma put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, get your coat,” she said. “Neal, can you pick up the bag in the hallway?”

“Got it.”

Neal headed for the hallway, and Belle slipped the phone into her pocket, glancing around worriedly. Have I forgotten anything? Oh God, it’s really coming! Where the hell is Alex?

“Will the baby come tonight?” asked Henry.

“Probably not,” said Emma. “Probably tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“April thirtieth.”

“Oh,” said Henry. “Dad’s birthday is the day after.”

“Yeah, it sure is. Come on, get your coat.”

“Hey Dad!” called Henry. “If the baby doesn’t come for another day you could have the same birthday!”

“I don’t want to be in labour for two days, thanks Henry,” said Belle, in a dry tone.

“Okay, do we have everything?” Neal put his head around the door. “I’ve got your bag.”

“Thanks,” said Belle, wincing again. “Oh! The casserole!”

“I turned the oven off already,” said Neal. “Figured you’d be a little too busy to make dinner.”

“Right.” Belle chewed at her lip, suddenly frozen with indecision.

“Coat,” said Emma firmly, steering her towards the hallway.

“Right.”

x

Gold had never made the journey from Storybrooke to Boston as quickly in his life. There was a tailback on the way into the city which made him want to scream in frustration, but eventually he reached the hospital. Emma had called him when he was leaving Maine to say that Belle had been advised to go in, and that the midwife was attending her, and he had been running on anxiety and adrenaline ever since. He found himself brimming over with gratitude for Belle’s friends being with her when he couldn’t. Striding through the hospital, he cursed his limp, wishing he could run to Belle, praying she was alright, his inner voice calling out his inadequacies, his failures. He reached the maternity unit stressed, breathless and thirsty, and found Neal sitting in the waiting area cradling a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” said Neal, getting to his feet. “The midwife’s with her. You can probably go on through.”

“How is she?” asked Gold, and he grinned.

“Not long now, I guess,” he said. “Look, if you don’t mind I’ll leave you to it. Emma took Henry home, and I should really get back to them.”

“Yes, of course.” Gold hesitated, putting out a hand for Neal to shake. “Thank you. You’ve been good friends to Belle. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Well, she’s easy to be friends with,” he said, with a lopsided grin. “Tell her we’re looking forward to seeing the new addition to the family, okay? Let us know how things go.”

“I will.”

Neal shook Gold’s hand briefly, drained his coffee and tossed the empty cup into the trash before sauntering off, and Gold took a deep breath before heading to the desk to ask which room Belle was in before setting off as fast as he could. His leg was hurting, the pain enough to make his teeth ache, and he grimaced as he reached room 609, pushing open the door. Belle was in a hospital gown, an open bathrobe over the top, pacing back and forth with a hand pressed to her back and an agonised look on her face.

“Where the hell have you been!” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could without being arrested,” he said, hurrying to her side. “How are you? How is she?”

This last was said to Dorothy Gale, who gave him a smile and a soothing pat on the arm as she passed.

“She’s doing fine,” she said. “Everything’s proceeding as we’d expected. I need to check her dilation again, but we’ve got a while to go before it’s time to start pushing, right Belle?”

Belle groaned, clutching at her midriff, and Gold rubbed her back soothingly.

“There, love, just hang on,” he said gently. “You’re gonna be okay. Keep breathing.”

“Oh, thank God you’re here, I would have forgotten!” she snapped.

“Right,” he said, sharing a glance with Dorothy, who looked amused. “Well, I remember the breathing exercises we did together. Shall we try those?”

“Oh, shut up, Gold!” She pushed him off, pacing faster. “This is all your fault!”

“Yes, it undoubtedly is,” he agreed. “Blame me all you like. Uh - is there anything I can do to help? A foot rub? Perhaps set myself on fire for your amusement?”

Belle burst out laughing at that, and shot him a fond look that became a twisted grimace of pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said, through her teeth. “This is - every bit as painful as they said it would be. And I was worried you wouldn’t get here on time so I kind of freaked out. I might yell some more.”

“Oh, you’ll definitely yell more,” said Dorothy cheerfully. “I’m sure he can stand it. How about we check your dilation now? Hop up on the bed.”

Belle took Gold’s hand, sending him a strained smile, and he helped her towards the bed, wishing he could bear the pain for her.

x

Their baby was born at six-fifteen on the morning of April thirtieth. By the time her labour was over, Belle was exhausted, drenched with sweat and almost hoarse. Gold didn’t leave her side, running through breathing exercises with her, speaking words of encouragement until his voice almost gave out, and feeling helpless as she suffered. On the final push, Belle squeezed his hand so hard he felt the bones grind together, a hoarse cry coming from her throat.

“There we are!” Dorothy cried. “Well done, Belle!”

Belle fell back against the pillows, gasping for breath, and Gold stroked damp strands of hair back from her forehead. A cry went up, a stuttering, fractious sound, and Gold felt his heart thump hard as Dorothy straightened up, grinning at him.

“It’s a baby boy!” she announced.

Gold glanced up, eyes wide. His son was being held up, red-faced and squalling, tiny arms flailing in outrage at being born into the world. He could see the cord leading from his belly, strands of dark hair covering his tiny head, and he felt tears well in his eyes as love burst through him.

“Oh God, he’s beautiful!” he wept. “Belle, he’s so beautiful! He’s perfect!”

He turned to her, bending to kiss her full on the mouth, not caring that tears were streaming down his cheeks. As he pulled back he could see that she was crying too, lower lip wobbling as she sent him a tired, but beautiful smile.

“Is he okay?” she asked tremulously.

“He looks absolutely fine,” said Dorothy. “Responding well, plenty of movement, good pulse… Here, why don’t you hold him?”

She placed the baby carefully on Belle’s chest, the tiny body streaked with blood and birthing fluids, and Belle burst into tears, bending to kiss the top of his head. The baby grizzled a little, tiny fists waving before he settled. Gold felt his heart swell with love for them, and reached out to stroke his son’s head with a gentle finger.

“He’s perfect,” he breathed. “Thank you! Thank you, my darling.”

Belle sniffed, lip still wobbling, and turned to kiss him. She was still trying to catch her breath, and Gold brushed damp strands of hair back from her face.

“You did so well,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Had to come out somehow,” she said wearily.

Gold smiled, and leaned in to press his brow to hers before turning back to gaze at the child they had made. He’s beautiful. As beautiful as his mother. He could hear Dorothy and the nurses clattering around as they cleared things away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his family. I have a son. I have a beautiful son and a beautiful woman who loves me. I’m the luckiest bastard on this entire earth.

“Okay, looks like the cord’s ready to be cut.” Dorothy’s voice made him look around. “It may take a little while for the placenta to come out. Alex, you can go get yourself a coffee if you like. We’ve got some measurements to take and we need to get Belle and Baby all cleaned up.”

“Oh.” Belle smiled at her, letting her head fall back against the pillows. “Yes please, that sounds great.” 

“You sure you want me to go?” Gold asked, and Belle smiled, squeezing his arm.

“Go get a coffee,” she said. “You look as exhausted as I feel, and I’m sure you don’t want to see me getting stitches. Would you call Emma, let her know?”

“Of course.” He hesitated. “What about your father?”

Belle pulled a face.

“I’ll call him later,” she said. “He won’t be awake yet, anyway. Maybe when the baby’s had his first feed. Maybe when we’ve decided on a name.”

She was looking a little hesitant, and Gold smiled.

“Does that mean you’ve thought of one?” he asked, and she inclined her head.

“What do you think of Gideon?” she asked. “I thought - I thought maybe Gideon Alexander Gold. How - how would you feel about that?”

Gold mouthed the name, then whispered it as he stroked his son’s head. The baby snuffled, his tiny fist shifting against Belle’s skin, and Gold nodded. It sounds good. It sounds right.

“Gideon Alexander Gold,” he said aloud. “It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

She beamed at him, her eyes shining, and he bent to kiss her gently before kissing the top of his son’s head.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered. “I can’t wait to hold him.”

When he left the room he slumped against the wall for a moment, feeling drained. His jacket and tie had been discarded some hours ago, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and he headed for the bathroom to freshen up. Stubble scraped his palms as splashed water on his face, his eyes stinging with tears and weariness. A son. I have a son. I’m going to give him the best life I can.

After he had washed up as best he could, he headed for the cafeteria. It was quiet in the early morning; the only people in there apart from the serving staff were a man doing a crossword at the corner table, and an orderly mopping the floor. Gold watched the mop move in circles, leaving gleaming wet streaks like petals. The lights seemed too bright for his tired eyes, but he bought himself a large coffee and a toasted bagel and sat at one of the tables, staring into space and thinking about the future he wanted to build with Belle and Gideon. Belle had mentioned the possibility of raising him in Storybrooke when she had finished her studies, and the thought was a pleasant one. If she could get a librarian position, even better. He sipped his coffee, cogs turning in his head as he thought it through. Perhaps there was a way to make it work. He had favours to call in. 

He called Emma at seven-thirty, letting her know the news and agreeing to pass on her best wishes and a promise to visit later. After that he called his lawyer and left a message on her voicemail. The formal agreement with Belle might have been torn up, but there were still things to sort out in order to ensure she and his son were provided for.

By the time he returned to Belle’s room, she was dressed in clean nightwear and tucked up in clean sheets, with Gideon swaddled and feeding at her breast. There was a plastic bracelet on Gideon’s wrist, and another around Belle’s. She was smiling down at the baby as he fed, tiny head pushed into her breast and a clenched fist jerking against it. Gold took a moment in the doorway to savour the scene, smiling as he watched mother and son. My family. My perfect family. God, I love them so much!

“You know, you could always take a picture.” 

Belle’s voice made his smile widen, and he went to sit by her side, reaching out to gently stroke Gideon’s head.

“Have you seen the doctor yet?” he asked.

“Dorothy says Jekyll will be around in half an hour or so,” she said. “She says everything’s fine, though. Gideon’s responding well to all the tests, he’s feeding well. He peed on her when she weighed him.”

Gold chuckled.

“How much does he weigh?”

“Six pounds two ounces,” she said. “I can’t remember if that was before or after the pee.”

Gideon coughed, a dribble of milk coming from his mouth, and Belle wiped it away with a cloth. He grumbled a little, and she smiled, lifting him up and kissing his cheek.

“Here, why don’t you hold him?” 

Gold took the tiny bundle from her, feeling love surge within him as he held his son in his arms. Gideon opened his eyes, and Gold smiled broadly.

“Hey there,” he said gently. “I’m your Papa. It’s wonderful to meet you, Gideon.”

He stroked a fist with his finger, his smile widening as Gideon grabbed it.

“Well, that’s quite a grip you’ve got,” he said.

“He’s a strong little thing,” said Belle. “I think he’s gonna be a handful when he gets mobile.”

“Hazel eyes,” said Gold. “Although they change colour, don’t they?”

“Yeah, apparently they don’t settle on the final colour for a while,” she said, yawning. “I think they’ll be brown, like yours.”

“As long as he doesn’t get my nose.”

Belle giggled.

“There’s nothing wrong with your nose.”

Gideon wriggled, beginning to grizzle, and Belle held out her arms.

“Here. Let me see if he’s still hungry.”

Gold handed him back, watching avidly as he latched onto a breast again.

“I could watch him all day,” he said, and Belle shot him a fond look.

“I know. I keep thinking I’ve dreamed it and I’ll wake up. But he’s really here. A whole little person that we made.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“I think you did almost all the building,” he said. “I provided the equivalent of a shovel full of rubble in the foundations of a skyscraper.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the importance of good rubble.”

She was smiling, her eyes gleaming, and he kissed her again.

“You look tired,” he said, and she groaned, letting her head fall back against the pillows.

“God, I’m exhausted!”

“In that case, you should sleep,” he said. “I’m going to go home and get showered and changed. I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck, so I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

“Tired, happy and bloody sore,” she said, with a smile. “You should get some sleep too.”

“Emma said she’d visit later,” he said. “She sends her love.”

“Well, if I’m going to have visitors, I definitely need sleep,” she said, and kissed him. “Go on, get home and have a nap, at least.”

“Okay.” He kissed her again, and kissed Gideon. “I’ll be back later.”

x

By the time he got home, Ella had called him twice, so he called her back, received effusive congratulations and gave her some instructions on making provision for Gideon’s future. He wasn’t expecting to sleep, but after showering and shaving he lay down on the bed anyway, and woke up as it was approaching five in the evening. He dressed quickly, cramming a sandwich into his mouth and downing some coffee before hurrying out of the door.

The hospital was far busier than it had been when he left, and he moved as quickly as he could past parents and children and rushing nurses. He reached Belle’s room just as Dr Jekyll was closing the door quietly, and the doctor gave one of his nervous smiles, snatching his glasses off his face and cleaning them.

“Ah, Mr Gold.” Jekyll put a hand on his arm, steering him away from the door. “Perhaps you could give her half an hour? They’re both sleeping. The poor thing hasn’t had a chance to get much rest today what with all the comings and goings.”

“Of course.” Gold hesitated. “How are they?”

“Oh, doing very well. I imagine you can take them both home tomorrow.” Jekyll smiled again. “I expect you’ll all be relieved to hear that. You’ll have a busy house from now on.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Jekyll walked off, and Gold headed to the cafeteria again. He was surprised to see Neal sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of coffee and flicking through a magazine. Gold got his own coffee, carrying it over, and Neal looked up with a grin.

“Hey, congratulations,” he said. “How’s it feel to be a dad?”

“Pretty amazing, actually,” said Gold, and gestured at the chair across from him. “Do you mind?”

“Take a seat. I told Emma I’d meet her here. She was taking Henry to get some new sneakers but she shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Gold sat down, pushing the coffee cup towards the centre of the table. His leg was hurting, and he cursed himself for forgetting his painkillers.

“Belle’s still asleep, I take it,” added Neal, and he nodded.

“The doctor said to give her half an hour.”

“Yeah, you never get much rest in hospitals,” said Neal. “Emma said when she had Henry she couldn’t wait to get home.”

“The doctor says I can take them home tomorrow,” he said. “She should be able to get some proper rest then.”

“Which I guess means you getting up with the baby, huh?” Neal grinned at him, and Gold smiled.

“I don’t mind. I’m looking forward to spending some quality time looking after both of them.”

There was silence. Gold sipped at his coffee, wincing as it burned his lips, and looked across at Neal. He was turning the cup between his fingers, just as Gold himself did when he was thinking. Gold cleared his throat, making Neal glance up.

“Thank you for being here for Belle,” he said. “Especially for all those months I wasn’t.”

Guilt stabbed at him, a painful reminder of his self-destructive decisions, his terrible behaviour towards the woman he loved.

“You’re here now, right?” said Neal.

“Doesn’t make up for it,” said Gold quietly.

“Maybe not, but it means something.” Neal leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the table. “You didn’t know she was pregnant, and as soon as you did, you tried to make it right.”

Gold let out a hollow laugh.

“Believe me, the way I’ve acted in this past year should in no way be praised,” he said dryly. “I behaved appallingly, and I wish I could take it back.”

“Hindsight’s a great thing,” said Neal. “Doesn’t stop you making dumbass decisions in the here and now, though.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“I never knew my dad,” he added. “Told myself that I’d always be there for my kids, and then because of my own stupidity, I missed eighteen months of my son’s life. Time we won’t get back, you know?”

“I don’t suppose Henry remembers much about it, if it’s any consolation,” said Gold.

“True,” agreed Neal. “But I remember. And so does Emma. If I had my time over, I’d make different choices. I guess that’s all you can do. Decide you won’t screw up that way again.”

Gold nodded slowly. He was right. There was no getting that time back, he just had to concentrate on being a good partner and father in the future.

“Belle said that you and Emma were in the system together,” he said, and Neal pulled a face.

“Not exactly,” he said. “We met on the streets. We were both in kids’ homes when we were younger, but we didn’t meet until we were teens. That was after we’d both run away.”

“That must have been dangerous for you both.”

“I don’t think either of us realised how dangerous until we found our way off the streets,” agreed Neal. “There again, there were reasons we ran away in the first place. Excellent reasons, you know?”

“I’m fairly sure I don’t want to imagine,” said Gold, and Neal nodded.

“I guess there are good and bad people involved in Social Services,” he said. “Can’t say I ever met any of the good ones, though.”

“I’m sorry you both had to go through that,” said Gold sincerely, and he shrugged.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with,” said Gold dryly. “As my therapist helpfully informs me.”

Neal chuckled.

“How’s the therapy going?”

“Slow,” he admitted. “But I’m told any progress is good. I’m also told there may be times when it feels as though I’m going backwards.”

Neal wrinkled his nose and hunched his shoulders a little. The gesture reminded Gold of how he himself reacted to his therapy sessions at times.

“Yeah, I hear you,” said Neal. “Emma and I went to therapy after I got out of jail. Thought it would be good for us. Fresh start, all of that.”

“Did it help?”

“Absolutely,” he said sincerely. “Sometimes you don’t realise how much you’re bottling up, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” said Gold quietly. 

“Emma was abandoned when she was just a baby,” Neal went on. “Never knew her parents. Sometimes I think it’s harder on her because of that. She’s spent a lot of time thinking about who they might have been, why they had to give her up.”

“And you?” asked Gold, and Neal grimaced.

“Well, I never knew my dad, but I remember my mom,” he said. “I especially remember the day she dropped me off with Social Services and never came back.”

“Really?” Gold shook his head. “I can’t imagine ever wanting to abandon my child. Not ever.”

“Yeah…” Neal hunched his shoulders a little more, shuffling his feet. “Guess not everyone’s meant to be a parent.”

“Have you seen your mother since?” asked Gold, and he shook his head.

“Nah. She never left a forwarding address, and I decided a long time ago that I never wanted to look for her.”

“What about your father?”

“Don’t even know his name,” said Neal. “I know he was boring and didn’t like to have fun. That’s according to my flighty, absentee mother, of course.”

He shared a smile with Gold.

“Families, huh?” he said.

“Indeed.”

They fell into silence again. Gold sipped his coffee. It was cool enough to drink, and he took a gulp. Neal drank the last of his own, setting down his cup.

“Belle said that you had a kid,” he said. “I mean other than Gideon.”

“Oh.” Gold felt his jaw tighten. “Yes. I did. I do.”

“Yeah, she didn’t really go into what happened.” added Neal hastily. “She said you probably wouldn’t want her to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay.” Gold scratched the back of his neck. “I’m told I need to learn to open up more.”

“Yeah, well.” Neal sent him a slanted grin. “Easier said than done, right?”

“Speaking as someone who’s had a lifetime of keeping things to myself, I concur.”

“Gets easier,” said Neal. “Emma was like that when we met. Hell, so was I. Hard to trust people when all you know is being let down by those who are supposed to care for you.”

“Yes,” said Gold quietly. “Well. I promised myself I’d give Gideon everything he needs. Everything I didn’t have.”

“Like me with Henry,” said Neal. “See? Like I said, all you can do is learn from your shitty past and decide you’re not gonna pass the crap down to the next generation.”

“True enough.” Gold glanced up as two familiar faces appeared in the corridor leading to the cafeteria. “Here’s Emma and Henry now.”

“Hey,” said Emma, tossing blonde curls back off her shoulders as Neal turned around. “How are the new parents?”

“Excellent,” said Gold, with a grin. “Belle was sleeping, so we were just having a coffee while we waited.”

“What’s the baby like?” asked Henry excitedly. “Is he big?”

“You can see him yourself very soon,” said Gold, and pushed to his feet. “I should go and see if they’re ready for visitors.”

“What colour’s his hair?” asked Henry. “Does he cry a lot?”

“Just hang on for like forty seconds and you can see him for yourself,” said Neal, looking amused. “But keep it calm, okay? Belle doesn’t want you climbing all over the bed when she’s just given birth.”

“Okay. Is there gonna be a party?”

“A party?” said Emma, confused.

“It’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow,” said Henry, and she ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Maybe he and Gideon can have a party together.”

“I think Gideon has some growing to do before he can enjoy a birthday party, kiddo.”

Something in what Henry had said tickled at the back of Gold’s mind, and he frowned.

“Your birthday is the first of May?” he asked, and Neal nodded.

“Yep.”

“Right.” He drummed his fingers on the handle of his cane, skin prickling with what felt like anxiety. “Uh - let me just go and see if Belle’s awake.”

He took a step away, then hesitated, swivelling on the toes of his shoes as he turned back.

“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” he asked, and Neal pulled a face.

“Twenty-nine tomorrow,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing. Excuse me.”

He bowed his head, turning away and heading for Belle’s room at a fast pace. Coincidence. It has to be.

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 17

6: “I’m sorry for all that pain I caused”

[AO3]

x

One year and nine months earlier

The June sun was pleasantly warm, and Gold was glad of the sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare. At ten-thirty, the heat of the day had not yet developed, and there was still a freshness to the light breeze that caught at his hair and kissed along his jaw. It was rent day, and he was on his rounds, trying to catch as many of his business tenants as he could before lunch. Those that weren’t avoiding him, of course.

He crossed the street, looking both ways as he did so, and headed for Game of Thorns. The usual bright displays of flowers were outside, along with a selection of garden ornaments and several hanging baskets dripping with colourful blooms. Gold had a bet with himself as to whether Moe French had the rent. He suspected not, but he would be delighted to be proven wrong. 

The bell above the shop door tinkled as he stepped inside, and Gold glanced towards the counter. His eyes narrowed behind the glasses, and for a moment he thought he was seeing things when a young woman turned to face him. Sunlight shining through the window made a halo around her, making her hair gleam with reddish tones, and as he stepped closer he could see her smile, eyes shining in a beautiful face. It felt as though a soft wave of light was washing over him, bathing him in warmth, blinding him. He squeezed his eyes shut behind the dark glasses, blinking rapidly before opening them up and trying to focus on the woman in front of him.

She was small and slight, in a tight white blouse with cap sleeves above a coral-pink skirt. Her skin was pale, her lips painted a luscious red, slender fingers holding a red rose, and he felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart thumping. She was perfect. She was also a complete stranger, and he wondered when she had come to Storybrooke. He moved closer to the counter, settling the cane between his legs and looking her over properly.

“I wasn’t aware that Mr French had hired an assistant,” he said, surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

“He didn’t,” she said. “Well, not exactly, anyway. I’m his daughter.”

His daughter? She must take after her mother, then, he thought. She had the same accent as Moe French, an accent he had always found irritating when speaking to the man. Strange that it sounded so pleasant, so sweet, coming from her mouth. For fuck’s sake, man, get a bloody grip! Anyone would think you’d never seen a pretty woman before.

“Of course,” he said, allowing his voice to become the lazy drawl that he knew made people bristle. “The family resemblance is - well, it’s non-existent, but no matter.”

Miss French frowned, brows drawing down a little, and he felt something like relief at having annoyed her. She put down the rose, leaning on the counter, and raised her chin.

“It appears you have me at a disadvantage,” she said coolly, and he smiled.

“That’s usually my intent,” he said. “But you’re right, I should introduce myself. I’m Mr Gold. The landlord.”

He didn’t miss the way she took a step back, looking suddenly nervous.

“What—” She swallowed hard. “What can I do for you, Mr Gold?”

He took off his glasses, folding the arms down carefully and slipping them into his pocket.

“I’m here for the rent,” he said quietly. “Both the shop, and the house. Perhaps you can satisfy me?”

She shook her head, the tip of her tongue slipping out to wet her lips. His eyes followed its path, and he wondered how it would feel to press his mouth to hers. Whether she would taste as sweet as she looked.

“Where’s your father, Miss French?” he asked softly.

“Out making deliveries,” she said. “Shall I tell him you stopped by?”

“If you would,” he said. “You may also tell him that the rent is due by six o’clock this evening, and I expect it to be paid in full, Good day, Miss French.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, bowing his head a little, and turned to head for the door, taking his glasses back out and slipping them on before he went out into the sunshine. His heart was pounding, his blood singing in his veins, and he stood for a moment, breathing in the warm summer air and wondering at the force of his reaction to her. He almost turned around and went back into the shop, ready to tell her he would wait for Moe French’s return. It was with some effort that he took a step forward, and then another, heading back down the street to the pawn shop. 

Once he was inside, the cool darkness a relief after the heat and brightness of the sun, he walked to the counter, leaning on it and taking several deep breaths as he let himself calm. The heavy tick of antique clocks helped to soothe him, and he felt his breathing slow, allowing himself a tiny, satisfied smile. Rent was due, after all. He glanced up at the nearest clock, its minute hand just past the hour. He had a feeling he would be seeing Miss French again before the day was out.

x

Gold watched the clock on the wall of Dr Hopper’s office, its minute hand just past the hour, a low ticking coming from it and sounding unnaturally loud in the silence that had fallen as soon as he had taken off his coat. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, hands folded loosely together, with Dr Hopper in the chair opposite. It was Friday, he had driven up from Boston that morning, and he had a session of therapy, numerous matters of business and a four-hour drive ahead of him. He suspected that the therapy would be the most exhausting.

“So,” said Dr Hopper kindly. “How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Can you expand on that?”

“Belle had an accident,” said Gold. “Broke her arm.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Dr Hopper. “How is she doing?”

He pulled a face.

“Well, it’s her dominant arm, so she’s pretty helpless and getting more frustrated by the day, I think,” he said. “I - I moved in. Temporarily, of course. Just to help out.”

“How is that going?”

“It’s - a work in progress,” he admitted. “She doesn’t like relying on other people. Especially me, I think.”

“Was it her idea, or yours?”

“Oh, hers,” he said immediately. “I wasn’t going to suggest it. If I had she would probably have said no.”

“It must take some getting used to,” said Dr Hopper carefully. “Living together in such close quarters. How is it going?”

“It’s - okay,” said Gold. “It’s a little awkward, but we’re trying. She seems to be handling it better than I am, to be honest.”

“What is it that you find difficult?”

Gold hesitated.

“I’m - I’m never sure if I’m overstepping,” he said. “I’m trying to be useful, cooking and cleaning, but I try to keep out of her way as much as I can. And - and she doesn’t seem to mind me helping her dress and bathe, but it feels awkward. Like I shouldn’t be there.”

“But she doesn’t seem to feel that way?”

“No.” He pulled a face. “Maybe she just doesn’t care what I think about anything. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No. Why would I? It’s my problem, not hers.”

There was silence for a moment. Gold turned his attention to the rug at his feet. There was a loose thread coiling out of it, and he nudged it with the shining toe of his shoe, pushing it down into the pile and watching it spring up again.

“And what we spoke about last time,” said Dr Hopper, making him look up. “About being open with her. Is there any progress on that front?”

Gold pursed his lips, his natural instinct to bottle everything up warring with his promise to himself to put his all into the therapy sessions.

“I told Belle about my son,” he said hesitantly, and Dr Hopper smiled.

“That’s an excellent start,” he said. “How did you find that?”

“She was - a little surprised, I suppose, but she was supportive,” he said. “Sympathetic.”

“That’s great,” said Dr Hopper. “But what I wanted to know was how you found being open with her. Letting her know a little more about your life.”

Gold thought for a moment.

“It was better than I expected,” he admitted. “It was - sort of a relief, I suppose.”

“Do you think you might tell her something else about your past?”

“Like what?” asked Gold cautiously, and Dr Hopper spread his hands.

“Whatever you feel comfortable divulging.”

Gold shifted a little in his seat.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I know I needed to tell her about Bae. I’m not sure anything else is relevant.”

Dr Hopper eyed him for a moment, and nodded.

“Alright, we can come back to that,” he said. “Besides the awkwardness you’re feeling, how are things between you otherwise?”

Gold’s mouth flattened, and he sat back with a low grumble.

“Either a little better or a little worse,” he said. “Depending on your point of view.”

“I’m sorry?”

He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly and not looking up.

“She told me she still loves me,” he said heavily. “But that she doesn’t trust me, so we can’t - can’t build anything.”

“And how did you feel about that?” asked Dr Hopper. Gold shrugged.

“At first I was a little - surprised,” he admitted. “I never expected her to still have any positive feelings towards me, certainly not love. And - and then I was - hurt, I suppose.”

“Because she doesn’t trust you?”

“Yes. Is that unreasonable of me?”

“What do you think?”

Gold hesitated.

“I suppose I can’t blame her,” he said. “Just because I’m trying to do the right thing now, it doesn’t undo what I did then. The fact that I’m sorry for all that pain I caused can’t - can’t turn back time.”

“It can’t,” agreed Dr Hopper. “And it may take some time for her to trust you in the future.”

“If she ever does,” said Gold quietly.

“It’s certainly not something you can force,” said Dr Hopper. “Do you want her to trust you?”

“Of course,” he said dismissively. “What kind of question is that?”

“Alright,” said Dr Hopper. “Let me ask you another. Do you trust Belle?”

Gold looked up, eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

“I’m supposed to say yes, aren’t I?”

“Telling me what you think you’re supposed to say isn’t going to move us forward.”

Gold sighed, sitting back a little. He was silent for a moment, thinking, and gave the tiniest shrug, the barest denial.

“I don’t think I trust anyone,” he said quietly, and Dr Hopper nodded slowly.

“Well, trusting someone means making yourself vulnerable,” he said. “That can be a difficult thing to do. You need to feel safe with that person.”

He shifted uncomfortably, frowning.

“That sounds as though it’s Belle’s fault I keep her at arm’s length, and that’s not true,” he said. “She’s given me no reason not to feel safe with her, and for me to suggest otherwise would be a lie.”

“I’m not saying that,” said Dr Hopper. “Insecurity in a relationship, any relationship, can be caused by one person doing something to cause the other to lose trust—infidelity is a common example—but it can also be that there are things in a person’s past that have shaped their view of the present. That’s not anyone’s fault, least of all the person they’re with. The important thing is to recognise and deal with it.”

Gold was silent, fingers sliding together rhythmically.

“What do you think of that?” asked Dr Hopper, and Gold gave a non-committed shrug. Dr Hopper looked thoughtful.

“Have you had other relationships?” he asked. “Before you met Belle, I mean?”

“Well, there was Milah,” said Gold. “Bae’s mother. We were together for a little while, although perhaps her ideas of what a commitment entailed were different to mine.”

“She was unfaithful?”

Gold let out a hollow laugh.

“I’m not sure she knew what the word faithful meant,” he said dryly. “I suppose I can’t blame her, really. Not for that. We weren’t remotely suited, and I could never have made her happy. She only came back because of Bae. My father said—”

He clamped his mouth shut, and Dr Hopper tilted his head a little.

“Go on,” he prompted, but Gold shook his head.

“Can we move on?” he said irritably.

“Okay, we can maybe cover that in another session,” said Dr Hopper gently. “What about after she left? Let’s say in the past ten to fifteen years. What form did your relationships take in that period?”

Gold wrinkled his nose.

“‘Relationships’ might be a strong word.”

“What would you call them?”

“Interactions, maybe? Dalliances? I don’t know,” Gold sat back, feeling uncomfortable. “Meaningless - frivolities.”

“Alright. In that case, how would you characterise these interactions?”

“Brief and transactional.”

“Can you expand on that?”

Gold sighed, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Expensive dinners and lengthy, mutually-pleasurable sex sessions.”

To his credit, Dr Hopper didn’t even blink.

“How long did each interaction last?”

Gold pulled a face, thinking.

“Mostly one night. Occasionally spanning a week or two.”

“Intentionally so?”

“You mean did I go into each one thinking it wouldn’t turn into anything more?” asked Gold. “Oh yes, I was under no illusions about that. It was entirely intentional.”

“And where did these interactions take place?”

“Boston,” he said. “New York, if I was there on business.”

“Not Storybrooke.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Gold shrugged.

“Keeping things - separate - I suppose,” he said. “I don’t like people knowing my business, and the gossip at Granny’s makes keeping private affairs private next to impossible in this town.”

“I see.” Dr Hopper tapped his pencil against his pad. “So what was it that made Belle different?”

Gold blinked.

“What?”

“You said that the two of you were dating for a year,” said Dr Hopper. “She lived in Storybrooke. By your own admission that doesn’t fit your usual pattern, so what made it different?”

Gold looked down at his fingers, the knuckles white where he was squeezing them together. I loved her. I loved her, that’s what made it different. God, I’m such an idiot! Why didn’t I realise? Why didn’t I tell her?

“She was different,” he said quietly. “She was - when I saw her it was like - like light. Like the breaking of dawn. Chasing away the shadows. I don’t know how to explain it, but I knew I had to - have her.” He winced, running a hand over his face. “That sounds wrong. I don’t mean I felt - lustful. She’s beautiful, of course, but - but it wasn’t lust I felt that day. I’m not explaining it well...”

“Can you describe the feeling?” prompted Dr Hopper.

Gold sucked his teeth, remembering the first time he saw her, the intensity of the feeling that had burst through him when she had spoken to him, when he had seen her bathed in sunlight.

“Something like - awe,” he said eventually.

“Had you ever felt that way before?”

“No.” 

“When you say you had to have her, but that it wasn’t lustful,” said Dr Hopper carefully. “What did you mean by that?”

He heaved a sigh, shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t mean that I didn’t want her, because I absolutely did,” he said quietly. “I wanted to take her in my arms, and kiss her, and find out how she tasted. I wanted to take her to bed and give her all the pleasure I could. But - but I wanted to know more about her. To find out what books she liked, to know what food she liked and how she took her tea. What made her laugh. What her dreams were.”

“You wanted to know her.”

“Yes.” 

“How long was it before your relationship became physical?”

“I think about eight weeks.”

“How did the two of you make that transition?” asked Dr Hopper, and Gold gave a wry smile.

“I had arranged for her to deliver flowers to me once a week,” he said. “During that time I talked with her. Made her tea, discussed some of the books in my library. When I said I wanted to be - intimate - with her, she agreed without hesitation.”

“And after your first night together,” said Dr Hopper. “Did you consider ending it?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I knew I needed more. I had to see her again. And again. But - but I also knew it couldn’t last, because she was going away. She was only in Storybrooke temporarily, and she didn’t want any of her friends to know, so - so it was safe. Safe to be with her, because eventually she would leave, and I knew that.”

“You were prepared for her to leave.”

“Yes.”

“Did you want her to leave?”

“Yes.”

Dr Hopper scribbled something, and looked up again.

“Last time, you told me that you loved her then, and you love her now,” he said.

“Yes.” A tiny word, breathed into the air.

“Have you told her that?”

Gold shook his head.

“Why not?”

A shrug. Dr Hopper looked thoughtful.

“You said earlier that she told you that she still loves you,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Why do you think she told you?”

Gold scratched at the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he said. “She wanted to be honest with me, I suppose. She wanted me to hear the truth.”

“Don’t you think she wants to hear the truth from you?”

He sighed again, sitting back a little, hands on his knees.

“She doesn’t trust me,” he said. “So why would she trust that?”

“Have you lied to her before?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When I broke up with her.” Gold shifted in his seat, shaking his head. “I said such - such terrible things to her. I didn’t mean them - at least - at least I meant to say them, but they weren’t true. Nothing I told her was true.”

“Then why did you say them?”

“Because I wanted her to leave,” he said simply. “I wanted her to move on, to leave Storybrooke, to go on with her life, not be trapped here.”

“Last time we met, you said you broke up with her because you had nothing to give her,” said Dr Hopper. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Yes.”

“But since then, you’ve been helping her,” he said. “Taking care of her, providing for her.”

“I suppose.”

“Alright.” Dr Hopper scribbled something briefly, and put down his pencil. “Do you think Belle knows that you didn’t mean the things you said?”

Gold shrugged, and Dr Hopper nodded.

“I want you to do something,” he said. “I want you to talk to her about that night, and tell her what you told me.”

Gold’s mouth twisted.

“What if she won’t talk about it?”

“She may not want to right away,” agreed Dr Hopper. “But as I said, being open with one another is going to take some work on both sides.”

Gold shook his head, looking at his interlaced fingers.

“I don’t know if she can forgive me,” he said quietly. “I don’t forgive myself.”

“It can often be easier to forgive those we love than forgive ourselves,” said Dr Hopper. “Especially when there’s genuine remorse, and a desire to do better in future. You’ll only know if you talk to her. Can you do that?”

Silence. The clock ticked, and Gold remembered the stricken look on Belle’s face the night their relationship ended, the raw grief and devastation as he broke her heart with deliberate cruelty. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but she needed his apology. She needed the truth from him.

“I’ll tell her,” he said. “If she’ll let me.”