#got a damn good riverdance

[citrus-adventures]

can't go to sleep thinking about the trolls world tour little mermaid au

[riddles-n-games]

You know what we’ve been really missing out on? A dance headcanon. It may have crossed your mind at some point or you have never thought of it, but trust me you actually have, so here you go and you’re welcome.

We’ve certainly gotten sprinkles (read: karaoke scene, I mean, we were about to get FED and bam Grayson pity party) of such things throughout the series but not in any outright way as is the case with many of the things that could give us more background on the Hawthorne brothers. (Why you holding out on us JLB??? Huh?!) Anyways, here. Read.

Nash-He does line dancing, I mean, you should have seen that one coming. He's basically the country star of his family and he owns it to the fullest; he's literally one of Taylor Swift's back up dancers for goodness' sake. Nash's favorite version of line dance is square dancing and being the sweetheart he is, he will go to retirement homes on dance nights and be one of the choreographers or partners to help the old folks who want to dance. Of course, when there's a festival, that's when he really gets down. But, this might surprise you; he's also had a stint with hip hop and he's pretty darn good at it. He can do the dougie for sure. In fact, he got so good at hip hop that he also started adding his own style to it and gave it his country flare at freestyle competitions (Jamie and Xander's minds were blown, at first, before the big brother cool wore off that is but they were still impressed🤭).

Grayson-All of them learned how to do ballroom dancing (mainly waltz) but someone had to be the best of them, too. Enter Grayson Hawthorne. He is certainly the go-to brother for these types of dances but he excels at tango and waltz which also give him his greatest enjoyment. Certainly, at school events, he was always sought after during the slow songs and was always leading man for the school's ballroom team. It was the one chance the ladies were allowed to swoon without a certain redhead ruining everything. Though he competed nationally and worldwide, he preferred the simple entry level competitions for the sake of the peace. It was also more fun. He also challenged himself by learning flamenco and he was enamored by it, loving the fast steps and quick changes from one thing to another. However, his grandfather wanted him to push it further since he was already pursuing the dance so he wanted him to do competitions and as much as he put his heart and soul into it, Gray hated doing competitions when he wanted to do this for fun. After his grandfather died, he quit comps and stopped dancing flamenco for a while but his brothers (read: Xander) have been encouraging him to take it up again as a fun hobby. He's been warming up to the idea.

Jameson-Should it really come as a surprise that this boy can tap dance? Because, yes, he can and he is damn proud of it. It’s a favorite party trick of his to pull on the dance floor or in the middle of the club and he’s always tearing it up. He also loves Irish stepdance and after watching the famous Riverdance live, Jameson was obsessed. That was how he and Xander ended up being trained by the very Riverdance company itself and they trained for two years until Xan no longer expressed interest but Jamie got good enough that he even went on tour with them. Also, he's been expanding his repertoire with street dancing, mambo, and most recently disco due to a certain someone's obsession with the 70s.

Xander-Despite Gray being the undisputed king of ballroom in the family, his youngest brother still takes to the swing better than anyone. He has been the most enthusiastic about it and loves the energy which matches him well in every aspect of the dance. Unlike his brother, competing never really bothered him and this is actually one of the things that he gets him into a perfectionist complex. He was a junior world champ on two occasions and now is teaching Max how to do it. On the more casual side of casual side of things, he also knows how to shag which is one of his favorite things to do on little dates with Maxine when they aren't going anywhere. And, of course, being the most sporadic of his brothers, Xander always shocks people when he tells them he also has done ballet. He never got to become a principal dancer as a junior dancer but he did get to do a few pas de deux and was a soloist when he was with the Texas Ballet Theater. His favorite ballets are The Nutcracker and Don Quixote; he appreciates Swan Lake but hates the unhappy versions.

[macaroni-rascal]

Damn, I wish I had time to give the ladies a full writeup because gosh do they deserve it, but I have to do so much goddamn adulting this weekend, so just the ice dance it is.

Lovely color from W/L but there's a bit of a sense of dishevelment about them, they kinda looked like a bridesmaid and groomsman drunkenly hooking up at a wedding. I wish his shirt wasn't untucked and so oversized. The issue with this program is that, like Sandrine and Quentin, they aren't skating to the rhythm, but also not to the melody either? Not to mention, the choreo is very much a mishmash of standard Montreal moves we've seen a million times already, it doesn't move me, it doesn't grab me. They were easily the technically weakest team here, which sucks because they seem so sweet and committed. MF's jacket feels a bit too casual for the occasion, but her hair is back on point.

Now, usually I wouldn't be on board with a non-Jason Riverdance program, but this is a rare Carol slay in terms of matching the program to the team. Molly is killing it, although I felt they had more vigor in Lake Placid. I like this black dress way more for her than the white (was it?) from before. The costumes are a bit theatrical for the present day, but at least they're on-theme. I have no doubt the coaching team is courting the Irish fed with this after they offloaded Caro and Shane on it to die a slow death of low scores and no major fed looking out for them, I'd honestly be impressed if I had a single Machiavellian bone in my body of how they solved that problem for themselves. Molly is slowly becoming the star of this team and I love that for her, she seems so pure.

Such a step up costume-wise for German Jenn, gorgeous silhouette and color, but his shirt needs to be at least somewhat closed and the pink line in the back is just silly. Less is more, always. A tango is a good choice for them but that first half put me to sleep. She's such an intense presence that I'll always stan no matter what. Strong and interesting lifts from them but always a bit of shakiness. Igor stay away from her!

Initially I was thrilled Alicia and Paul were keeping this FD because it was one of my faves last year, but this year it's already feeling a bit tired, and it didn't help that they were so cautious here, although I understand that they can't afford another injury. Her dress is so lovely and soft, so it makes me wish his shirt was more of... something, maybe a layered, draped mesh like her dress or at least the same color as the piece of fabric covering the V, this just looks like long underwear. They have some stunning elements but they weren't at their best here. The levels issues persist, but I was glad they got more generous GOEs here than they've been used to. He gets too far back on the blade and gets shaky, they might need to spend the summer in Komoka to work on this. Judging by his outfit, Romain is the groom at the wedding W/L are attending.

God help me, Pate and Bye. Further proof that Igor would rather die than come up with an original program. The costumes, while well-executed, just further exemplify how many coaches are stuck in their respective heydays. They would've been all the rage on the circuit 10-15 years ago. The choreo step is the stuff of nightmares and very Vikita in Beijing. That tiara is like something out of an 80s fantasy adventure movie like the Neverending Story. I'm sending flowers whenever Igor decides to retire, but judging by his dyed hair and fake tan, he has no intention of sparing us from himself any time soon.

Z/K are wasted under this coaching team and I'm glad Mark mentioned Scott (although why the height jab?) because I'd love to see them with more mature material like CPom have been getting, and I think Emilea would thrive under Madi. I like BatB but it has no business playing at a senior GP. If it'd been all instrumental covers it might've been okay, but I didn't enjoy having my ears assaulted by Dan Stevens of all possible options for this. I actually prefer that they didn't go full Meryl and Charlie with the costumes like their training mates did, cause they're just too cool for this school. They'd be such a factor under IAM but I can't see anyone clawing this team out of Igor's cold, dead hands.

My issues with the Browns' material persist, they're too good for what they've been given, and I don't understand why they aren't going with instrumental classical music when it could complement their flowy skating so nicely. I thought they deserved to medal here just based on their fundamental skating skills, kudos to their childhood coaches (although let's hope it wasn't that pedo who gave them this gift).

R/A I feel are so close but so far from something with this program. I feel like it's too conceptual, too mime-y, and that final piece is too much in the vein of what they've given us before that I can't see this FD as a standalone in their repertoire. The costuming is too repetitive of previous ideas as well and I honestly found myself bored throughout this. I mean, vintage Euro techno again? The cutouts on her dress weren't very sophisticated and the slits on the skirt sub-optimal. The back of his shirt was confusing, I found myself wondering if he was wearing one of those back support thingies. I suppose Air Canada lost their free legs in transit again. Some interesting moments throughout but again, I didn't feel like they're challenging themselves or stepping out of their comfort zone. I feel like they have so much more to offer, that's the thing. Whenever I see a team grip the boards, I just wince at this point. Can we move past this, please? That and the cartwheels on the ice, pack them away.

It's so rare that a program actually insults me the way that this Rocky one has. And the music choices aren't that bad, actually, but the whole thing is way too hammy to take seriously, and the most baffling aspect of it all is the quality of the support team they have - nobody had the guts to tell them no? I just can't believe Maria-Francesca Dubrovnik-Lausanne would do this to me. And I really like them as people, that's the thing. The costumes are well-made and we know I love my velvet, but good god, why this approach? I actually could see this working in a way if they'd gone way less literal, but the fake boxing and all the other bullshit is just. too. much. Mark is just pumping their tires because a) they're British and b) he's trying to justify their scores before the rest of the world, but truth be told, their skating skills have to have improved, because if they'd gotten worse, they'd be falling over. The scoring of this team will remain a dark stain on ice dance for a very long time.

Now, coming into this as an avowed G/P hater, even I can admit that there are some points of interest in this program. It's not their worst, but we've already seen most of what they're doing here before, notably in that Hitchcock program. However, there is always a level of cringe with them that I just can't get over, mostly in their facial expressions. This was a way better concept and certainly better executed than the RD, but there's always going to be a sense of distilled trash juice with them for me and it's that inherent lack of self-awareness that permeates everything they do that I just can't get over. The opening moves are something straight out of a Torvill and Dean exhibition program 20-30 years ago. Then they move in and out of the Hitchcock mood with some of the Evita sprinkled in. Now, while her dress is really pretty and classic, she needs to give Polina Edmunds back that hair ribbon because the whole look is too juvenile for her. The choice of pink for a Wuthering Heights program is my biggest question mark of the event. Do you think they've read the book? Do you think they've been in the same room with a copy, perhaps? Was the intention to soften a story about isolation, generational trauma and people treating each other like shit? If so, how? Because I don't see how one could possibly. I don't understand Paul's proto-mullet any more than his silky shirt, the interrupted sleeves, the lace-up front or the choice of the color pink to portray an abusive douchebag. That man was not a romantic hero, and if someone believes that, they need therapy asap. If his top had been grey, then we might've been in business, but painting WH as a "love story" of all things... What a curse it is to have read a few books in this lifetime. It's like, I don't absolutely loathe it, but having seen what they're capable of with the Vincent and the Both Sides Now, I'm kinda iffy. This FD would've benefited from an outing prior to this, it looks underdeveloped still. I just, I... hate the current state of ice dance. I'm at a point where I'd be fine if no medals were awarded at Worlds, like in the Olympic team event. Maybe the Italians will change their RD and deliver us all.

It's a shame W/L have regressed so much, I like them, but they are having a tough time out there. That Caro and Shane drive by hit made my cackle so loud I woke up my cat. So true about Paul and his balance issues, it makes it hard for me to settle into the program cause he just seems shaky. Igor looks more soulless and dead eyed every time we see him, it's so unsettling. I'm glad the Browns came out as the top American team, but they need a lyric-less program, just give them pretty music so skate prettily to, as you said. I'm disappointed in the R/A free dance, it started with that weird pantomime and I didn't warm up to it at all after that. I can't even talk about Fear and Gibson or fl-flames flames! flames on the side of my face!! I'm gonna take a Mulligan on Piper and Paul, cause I just need Chock and Bates to not win worlds again, that's all I need.

[madamspeaker]

When the English don’t understand the Irish, and then bash Nancy Pelosi for it.

I am constantly struck by how tone deaf and utterly ignorant the English press are when it comes to cultural issues outside the "English" experience. In the last two days we've had two opinion pieces (one in The Telegraph, and the other in The Times) taking issue with Nancy Pelosi and "the poem". I am not here to speak to the artistic merits of said poem by Bono, or of its delivery by the Speaker - I am not a poetry critic - but I find it most notable that pretty much everyone attacking it has failed to factor in the context of which it was spoken - the Friends of Ireland Lunch, on St Patrick's Day. See this is the thing that most English folk miss (and a good few other folk too), St Patrick's Day is always 90% cringe. I say this as someone born and raised on the island of Ireland - the whole damn day is one epic excuse to bask in cliche and the kind of rampant sentiment that makes a Frank Capra movie seem like Scorsese in comparison. There's good reason for it though. The Irish are fundamentally a sentimental nation. Now in Ireland that sentiment is heavily peppered with a lot of dry wit, dark humour, and a kind of twisted appreciation for the morbid and the odd that tempers the sugar. That aspect is largely missing however among the diaspora, which when you consider the reasons for the Irish diaspora, makes a lot of sense. The reason there are so many Irish Americans is that families fled the homeland over decades, either because of famine (I should probably call it a genocide here given that the occupying British did nothing to intervene as the Irish population literally starved to death in front on them - the population has yet to recover in numbers), or because for decades the Irish economy was such an utter disaster that the prospects for young people to get any job were next to nil. My point though is that the diaspora will always be sentimental because they left the homeland as a last resort - during the famine it was leave or most likely die (and many died on the journey) - so when it comes to events like St Patrick's Day, the sentiment is always at the fore, and especially in places where the fleeing Irish made their home.

Now the lunch in question is usually cliche central - a grand mix of the tralalalala music as I call it, obligatory Riverdance (because god forbid anyone remember that Ireland has produced other theatre), ties in various shades of green, and usually moderately funny speeches. Events in Ukraine rather made business as usual at that lunch impossible. The press would have been up in arms had President Biden (the second Irish American president) appeared at the lunch and just ignored what was happening in Ukraine during his remarks, because here's the other thing, and perhaps what Bono was trying to highlight with the poem - the Irish may well have more of a clue than most when it comes to what the Ukraine is facing (a bullying bigger neighbour who imagines itself superior in every way, taking the land by force, committing acts of genocide, all in the name of.. well for the British it was Empire. For Putin it's some notion of Imperial Russia or the USSR). I can imagine that for Murray in The Telegraph and Long in The Times, that comparison is rather unpleasant to digest or dwell on, assuming either are even capable of understanding the history between England and Ireland. The English are essentially Russia when it comes to Ireland. Long's piece rather hilariously compares the poem to Schwarzenegger's direct piece to camera talk to the Russian people, which of course completely misses the point that they are wholly different things with different target audiences. Does she imagine that Nancy was delivering that poem to Russians? Or Ukrainians? No. That poem was for the folks in that room, most of which have some personal connection to Ireland via an ancestor who got on a boat nearly two centuries ago because the occupying forces of from country next door sat back and gleefully watched everyone die. That poem was for people who take some comfort in the sentimentality of being Irish decended, and that history of how they got there etc. And yes, it was followed by Riverdance, which might well seem an odd transition to most, but I doubt anyone in that room thought it too odd, because this has always been the way of the diaspora - the sad living side by side with cultural moments from home (now maybe it should have been followed a sad lament on a fiddle instead, but then some other overpaid smartass would have no doubt found issue in that too). Schwarzenegger's rather amazing video is in no way compariable - different target audience, different message, just different in every way, but of course Long, who is probably one of the nastier writers on The Times' payroll, just misses this because why let a little thing like fact get in the way of a good bashing of Nancy Pelosi, Bono, and Irish earnest sentiment in general. The Murray bit in The Telegraph likewise goes off on Nancy and the poem (the article is actually an astonishingly nasty rant by some Brit who seems to irrationally hate a woman who is geographically nowhere near him, has no legislative power over him, and who has no idea who he is -- it's an extraordinary testament to how some men just cannot handle women having power, regardless of where they are). I know most of the media these days don't need much of an excuse to go after Nancy Pelosi - but I do find it somewhat pathetic that two Brits got paid to do this, for two papers that Americans most likely don't read, and that Nancy is unlikely to see - and that her grand crime for such vitriol is reading aloud an overly earnest poem by an Irish rockstar (who artistic merits aside, had good intentions!) at an event and on a day in which over sentimentality is the theme, because anyone with even a basic understanding of Ireland would know that this how it always is, and that events in Ukraine would highlight that history even more.

[barryhbotheories]

Underrated lines from Barry (HBO)

Fuches: You want to have a hobby or something, you could take up painting. You know, Hitler painted.

Police technician: *watching a Russian video* I've never seen someone be happy and angry at the same time. Brought to you by wolf attacking a horse.

Fuches: I googled Chechnya and bro, they're crazy.

Barry: *phone ringing* Uh, I gotta take this. I think I might have won something.

Noho Hank: When I was kid, I saw him once walking out of discotheque. He flicks cigarette at bird, knocked it out of sky.

Nick: If I'm not Titus Andronicus, I'm gonna burn this fucking place to the ground.

Antonio: *looking at a low-quality picture* Is this the back or the front? 'Cause usually in the front of a head, there's a face.

Mr. Cousineau: So be, on the lookout for a man with no discernible features. He killed your friend.

Natalie: Well, that's really not constructive at all. It's actually the opposite of constructive. It's un-structive to me.

Vacha: Barry buy fancy new clothes. Barry have sex with nun. Barry buying laptop computer. No hit.

Fuches: Have you killed Taylor yet? If you don't have the stones to do it, you better tell him to keep his fucking mouth shut or you'll stick a bayonet up his ass!

Barry: *mumbling to himself 3 seconds later while dialing Taylor up* All right, that's it! Put a fucking bayonet in your ass, man.

Cristobal: Tell me, what is the one thing that we here have wanted to dip our toes in? ...  Hank: Chocolate. ... Cristobal: Heroin.

Hank: "Want to win a million dollars?" I'm not gonna fall for that one, again. Hey, guys! A package from Chechnya! Maybe it's my copy of Riverdance on Blu-ray.

Barry: *imitating a strong British accent* See you bought yourself a new pair of gym pantaloons, have you?

Barry: *motivating the acting class* And I think the most important lesson in the myriad of important lessons is you always put out the newspaper. ... Antonio: I fundamentally disagree with you, Barry. Sometimes no news is good news.

Noho Hank: And look at Cristobal's face. *picture of Cristobal smiling happily* That is a cry for help.

Mr. Cousineau: I know you were just a fetus, but is this close to your experience? ... Natalie: From what I remember, yes.

Mr. Cousineau: Yes, Barry was blessed with being able to witness the atrocities of war, absolutely. I bet you all wish you were down in the shit with him.

Hank: All right, listen up, you clowns. I'm just kidding. You guys look great.

Hank: Oh, man! These guys are like a Seal Team Six, huh? Maybe even like seven and a half!

Mr. Cousineau: Well, that makes me feel wonderful, 'cause no matter what you feel, I know that I rate above the garbage.

Barry: *from the ground* Hey, what are you doing up there? ... Fuches: *on a ledge, trying to escape from a hotel room* Uh, I I can't find something.

Mr. Cousineau: I will always be there for you. As long as I'm out of here in seven minutes.

Mr. Cousineau some minutes later: I am very touched that I was able to gain your trust. I am so late for my escape room.

Hank: And you reminded the guys to double-knot their boots, yes? Because I cannot have people tripping. It's dangerous, but, you know, it's also embarrassing.

Mr. Cousineau: So, Ike has forced the horns of the cuckold upon you, so your guy seeks revenge by shitting in a pie and trying to get him to eat it.

Mr. Cousineau: So, scene one, "Loss. " ... Barry: Mm-hmm. ... Mr. Cousineau: Scene two, you shit in a pie. ... Barry: So, uh, relief? ... Mr. Cousineau: No. I think it's a little more nuanced than that.

Mr. Cousineau: He who seeks revenge digs two graves, Barry. It's a tale as old as time. ... Barry, taken aback: Damn.

Hank: Hopefully there is afterlife, and I can host you all in heaven and make you delicious appetizers.

Hank: I don't even have time to order heroin table, which is a thing on Pinterest but not on Amazon.

Sally: Look, Barry, I was nervous too, okay? But everybody's dropped the competitive grief bullshit, and they're delivering honest and real work. I mean, look what we inspired! ... Natalie: Nick, your vomit scene is up next.

Eric performing: Forgotten. Remembered. Forgotten. I was the youngest of four gotten. Forgotten. Four got ten, nine, eight, seven, six! Was the age when I was left at a garage sale.

Hank: Oh, come on, you guys are like Fleetwood Mac. You break up, you get back together again, and then you go out and make a great album, like The Best of Fleetwood Mac.

[moonstarphoenix]

NHK Trophy Men’s SP Pt. 2

Alright, the top names are next. Yuzuru, Kevin, Jason. Let’s get it started.

Tomoki Hiwatashi is trying to establish himself as a contender against Nathan Chen, Jason Brown, and Vincent Zhou. He didn’t have the greatest debut but he’s got potential. He got really low on the landing of that quad and misses the triple axel. This could be a really fun program but he’s so blank during the elements. Definitely not the way he wanted that to go.

Sergei Voronov is the oldest competitor. I wasn’t sure about the program in France, but it’s Queen so let’s see if it’s improved. He gets a beautiful quad combo, and a clean triple. He’s the first clean program of the night. This is an excellent program for him. And he is happy with it as he should be. It’s amazing to be so much older than all the other competitors and have done so well. Great score and good for him.

Kevin Aymoz won his first Grand Prix medal in France. He was so upset after his short and is looking to redeem it here. Turn out on the quad but he hands onto the landing. Solid triple-triple and triple axel. You can already tell he’s much happier with that. I think what I like the most about Kevin’s programs is that they are choreographed specifically to parts of the music. So they fit every beat and it wouldn’t work if you changed the music. Add to that that he’s such an artist on the ice, his programs are always a blast to watch. For me anyway. And another excellent score that sets him up well for the long program.

Jason Brown is another that wants to do better on his short than his last competition. Jason’s last was Skate America so he’s had time to rest and recover. He won the silver at Skate America so it certainly wasn’t a disaster but he wants to do better. Sometimes I still can’t believe this is the same skater that appeared in 2014 skating to Riverdance almost like a little puppy. He has matured so much. A fall on the triple axel and no combo is not good but I love how he never lets on how the performance affects him. He’s 7th for now. That might just put him out of contention but I believe 4-7 are only separated by less that 5 points? I need to check the scores.

Yuzuru Hanyu would have to really bomb not to win. He’s ready this season. No injuries, no issues. He’s on tonight, no issues with the jumps at all. The Final will be a damn great treat with him and Nathan battling it out and I honestly don’t know who’s going to win. A wonderful performance and flying Pooh bears and gifts. I didn’t see any flaws but apparently he was unhappy about something in it according to an interview I read. Never satisfied, that’s why he has two gold medals.

Alexei Bychenko s struggling with his jumps, singling his axel and falling on his quad. That wasn’t great at all. I actually really like his skating, but I’m wondering if the program was a good fit for him. It may have just not been his night. He’ll end the night in last place.

So as predicted: it’s Hanyu in first follow happily by Kevin with a surprise 3rd place for Sergei. Jason ends the night in 8th but only 5 points separates him from 4th so he has a small shot of moving up. See ya later for the ladies!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Luflous

Summary: The same events as in ‘Soulful’ but from Stretch’s POV

Notes: @crysta-cub was very interested in seeing all of this from Stretch’s pov, and, yeah, I thought maybe we needed to see that. His perspective on it is very different from Edge’s, so let’s have it. This turned out longer than the original because as we all know, Stretch has a lot of words to say. Whether they all have meaning in another argument. 

Read Soulful first: 

keelywolfe.tumblr.com/post/180237746448/fic-soulful

Read more from this series in the Masterlist:  keelywolfe.tumblr.com/post/178224395713/masterlist-by-any-other-name

Read it on AO3: 

archiveofourown.org/works/16660039/chapters/39093499

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch knew he was being the asshole about all this.

He’d been really damn sick, he knew that, and Edge had issues about that shit. Fuck, who didn’t? There was no one out there thinking it was a-okay that the people they loved were hurt or sick or what the fuck ever.

So, Edge dealt with that by layering on the protectiveness which was no kind of surprise because Blue did the same damn thing. This was High HP Takeover 101, and Stretch should be able to give Edge that. In theory.

In practice, he wasn’t very damn good at it. The forewarned texts came like clockwork every two hours, and angels wept, he hadn’t moved off the sofa since the last damn text. Exactly where did Edge think he was going to go? Hop a bus to Ireland for some damn Riverdance lessons? It was difficult to keep the snark at a minimum when you had to come up with a new variation on ‘I’m fine’ every two damn hours.

Except…snark came at a guilty price when Edge looked so tired as he came home from work. There were so many things he was trying to handle right now and here Stretch was, sprinkling his bullshit issues on top of Edge’s current shit sundae. Edge was on the verge of making himself sick working so hard and trying to take care of the house, of Stretch, of everything, and the worst part was, there wasn’t much Stretch could do about it except try to keep his prickish nature at a minimum.

That left him here, trying to think of a way to make up for being an asshole without actually saying ‘sorry about the whole asshole thing’. Not that he wouldn’t, fuck no, but apologies were easy. Dime a dozen. He wanted something a little more tangible.

He couldn’t cook worth a damn so making dinner was out; seemed more like a punishment than an apology to make Edge choke down a plateful of whatever he managed in a burnt offering. A little apology sex seemed like a good idea, but Stretch could admit he wasn’t really up to a marathon yet, and a quick round of missionary wasn’t probably wasn’t going cover it, especially if he fell asleep in the middle of it.

So far, he’d managed to allow a serious amount of cuddling after dinner, letting himself fall asleep in Edge’s arms because it was useful in settling his hubby down and besides, like Stretch was going to say no to a nap. But he was still on the lookout for something better.

Like so many good things in his life, the idea came to him from the television.

He was watching ‘Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives’, because that show was the shit and Stretch had no idea why people were always down on Guy Fieri on the internet because hell, that was a guy with style.

Anyway, the episode had wandered into mac and cheese territory, a wonderland that was near and dear to Stretch, and at one point, they referred to it as soul food.

Soul food.

It clicked a little lever in his head that sent an idea down through the tangled paths of experiments, pranks, and various television theme songs, straight to his guilt center and there it hit the buzzer.

Edge had looked so damn hurt when Stretch asked him to leave the room when the nurse pulled his soul and even when Stretch had shown it to him later, that hurt had only shifted states, liquid pain to icy fear when he’d seen the IV. Not exactly the stuff of romance. There was a pretty good chance he’d be interested in a private viewing when his soul was in its natural state.

It was intimate, sure, souls were intimate as hell, but he’d also spent the past week having everyone but the janitor give his soul a looksee. A big deal, yeah, but there were levels and honestly, now that he thought about it, Stretch was a little surprised Edge hadn’t brought it up before.  

He suspected it was an Underfell thing. Somehow, he doubted anyone in that little sliver of the multiverse was handing their soul over on Lover’s Day with flowers and chocolates for a little bonding time. To Edge, this was probably a much bigger deal than it was for him, but that was okay, it didn’t make it unimportant.

So, yeah, there was a plan. If Edge wanted to see his soul, hell, if he wanted to touch it, Stretch was fine with that. No one else had ever run away with screaming heebie jeebies from touching it, there were decent odds that Edge wouldn’t either. Plus, he could probably work it out so that Edge got a little more out of it than most Monsters would.

Stretch knew a little bit about souls; it had been years since any of those experiments, and yeah, cut that fucking thought off right there, but he did remember, and he knew how the focuses worked.

Souls could work on a low level of empathy; if he focused on how much he loved Edge while he was touching his soul, then Edge should be able to feel a little of it, without anything else that Stretch didn’t want him feeling bleeding through and if there was one thing he was sure he could handle, it was focusing on how much he loved Edge.

This was a great idea, Stretch was sure of it. If he worked out the odds, it was about 95% chance that it would turn out fine, less than a 5% chance of it ending horribly! Fuck it, let’s roll those dice.

Probably he should have waited until Saturday. Let Edge get in a good night’s sleep, wake him up with a few kisses, play up that shyness that Edge liked so much, and they’d be on their way. Except Stretch was shit for patience and now that he had the idea in his skull, it would rattle around like a maraca until he took care of it. So tonight it was.

About a half-hour before he was expecting Edge home, Stretch went up to their bedroom, peeling off his sweatshirt and tossing it carelessly on the floor. The hamper was literally a step and a half away, but Stretch had a thing for that little twitch Edge got in his socket when he saw clothes scattered around. It was a kink, so sue him.

The sweatshirt didn’t make a difference anyhow, it wasn’t like clothing impeded a soul, and Stretch might proudly be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. Edge liked how he looked, like the delicate lines of his bones, liked to run his hands over them, testing the smoothness. He was feeling better, he looked better, might as well let Edge have a treat to go along with the main event.

He hadn’t made the bed when he’d gotten up and he took a minute to smooth out the covers before scooting up to sit in the middle. Edge would be home soon, he needed to work fast, and Stretch took a deep breath and gingerly pulled out his soul. He hadn’t looked at it since they left the hospital and it would be better to take a quick peek. Edge probably wouldn’t handle any surprises very well.

It came easily, hovering over his outstretched hands. Silvery pale, a sign that he didn’t have any LV, and the mark where the IV had been was gone entirely. Good enough.

He heard the front door open and hastily dismissed it back, checking himself over. Jeans and a tank top, check, soul lookin’ good, check, ready for takeoff.

“come upstairs,” Stretch called, and he could hear the shuffling downstairs pause, clothing rustling, probably taking off his coat, and then feet on the stairs, coming up fast, well, someone was eager.

Edge filled the doorway when he stepped in, his eye lights a little bright and focusing in on him like a laser. “Hello.”

Oh, fuck. Stretch couldn’t help shivering, that husky growl, shit, maybe apology sex was a great idea…no, no, down boy, remember the plan, eyes on the prize and other various encouraging shit.

Instead, he gestured Edge in, patting the bed across from him. Edge was a little confused but willing enough, and he waited patiently for Stretch to spill the beans.

Stretch felt a flush rise in his cheeks, okay, yeah, so this was pretty intimate, far more than sex could ever be and of all the Monsters who’d ever seen his soul, ever laid impersonal, clinical hands on it, Edge was the very first Stretch actually wanted to touch it.

This was supposed to be for Edge, but Stretch was finding that he wanted this, too.

“i’m feeling a lot better,” Stretch said, little hesitantly, ““and i thought maybe you’d want to see my soul when it isn’t wired in like frankenstein.”

Want might not be a strong enough word. Edge’s eye lights flared wide; apparently, this was something he’d been yearning after for a while and never mentioned, yeah, this was gonna be a big deal to him, and that was okay.

Of course, Edge tried to give him an out, no surprise there, geez, it wasn’t like Stretch was the one who’d brought it up to begin with. And it wasn’t much of a surprise that Edge wanted to be the one to pull it, no, no, control issues, go on ahead.

Stretch didn’t mind. He trusted Edge with a hell of a lot more than his soul.

The sensation of someone else getting a grip on your soul was usually foreign and maybe a little unpleasant, at least in Stretch’s experience, and while it didn’t hurt, it was weirdly uncomfortable. Usually.

The delicate tendrils of magic that lassoed his essence and coaxed it forth were like nothing Stretch had experienced before and he closed his sockets, exhaling shakily as it slipped free and settled lightly into Edge’s hand.

Oh. That felt…oh…

Okay, he’d had other Monsters handle his soul before but none of them had ever resonated like this. Maybe…maybe it was because of who they were, he and Edge, the flipside of the same coin, he needed to talk to sans and red but not now, now he had to focus on edge, he loved him, loved him so, so much, edge was his brilliant sunshine through darkness, his safety from himself as much as from the world, and he wanted to show him that love, wanted him to feel it…

A little hazily, Stretch opened his sockets and could only stare in shock.

Edge was crying.

He hadn’t even known Edge could cry, he’d never done it, not once since Stretch had known him. Stretch was a little bit of a damn crybaby himself, not that he cared, own it, bitches, but Edge—

Tears were trailing from his closed sockets, not crimson, not a match to his magic the way Stretch’s were, but silvery and pale, a mirror of his soul.

That…Stretch had never seen anything like that before.

Um, yeah, maybe it was time to stop.

Edge didn’t protest but he was still obviously pretty damn reluctant to hand Stretch’s soul back so quickly. His tears stopped the moment Stretch’s soul faded back into his sternum, leaving streaks of wetness on his cheekbones.

Carefully, Stretch reached up and ineffectively wiped away one thin, silvery trail. “that was supposed to make you happy.”

Edge’s voice with thick, warm, as he murmured, “It did.”

The tears weren’t exactly convincing him, but Stretch decided to take him at his word. He gave up trying to wipe them away, bone wasn’t exactly great as a sponge and, unthinkingly, he let his hand drift down, resting his fingertips over Edge’s sternum and wishing fleetingly that he could touch, just for a second…

He could feel Edge stiffen, rejecting it wordlessly.  Ah, shit, Stretch hadn’t meant to put that idea into his head, he knew better than that.

“Do you…do you want…” Edge forced out, because of course he would. Of course he would offer, even though he wasn’t ready for that by any means. Even though it would upset him, maybe even traumatize him to force his soul out for no better reason than he felt like he owed it.  Of course he fucking would.

Stretch couldn’t think of anything he wanted less than to hold an unwilling soul, even one that loved him.

Turning him down didn’t take things down a notch as hoped and almost sent Edge into a fucking panic attack, and shit, shit, this was not how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to help, not make things fucking worse, and what kind of asshole did Edge think he was, that he’d demand a soul fondle in return when Edge was so unready for it?

Exhaustion worked for him for once, and Stretch was able to soothe him down, gently, set Edge at ease, and fuck, they should probably talk about this later. Probably.

Probably weren’t gonna though, because he already knew what Edge was afraid of, what he was so terrified Stretch would see.

And Stretch wasn’t about tell him that he already knew exactly what Edge’s soul looked like. Didn’t want to tell him he’d seen it the first time they’d met, swollen blood-red with LV, patchy veins of darkness scattered over it. He’d been in a bad damn way when they’d first arrive, but so fucking what? Stretch had been too; from the first step out of the portal, his own soul had been so faded it was a wonder he hadn’t already fallen down.

Red had seen all that from the beginning and so had Sans. They’d all known the stakes, for what little it was worth. It was over and done with, though, no point in talking about it now. And Stretch didn’t look anymore at anyone, not often, didn’t judge, none of them did that Stretch knew of. Souls showed something of a person, yeah, but they didn’t show everything and it was pointless to form a judgment on one aspect of a person when there was so much more left unseen.

But it didn’t mean that he didn’t know Edge’s soul was so much lighter since then. LV never left, but it could fade, it could lighten, those dark patches vanishing. His soul would always be red. It didn’t mean it couldn’t be beautiful.

Edge was so far from ready to hear any of that.  

Holding his soul must’ve been pretty damn draining because Edge was all but asleep in minutes. Resisting it, sure, because his love wasn’t very good at giving in, but eh, a little petting, a little singing, and he was out like a light.

Even in his sleep, Edge’s grip on him was tight, both arms around his pelvis and Edge’s skull was resting in his lap, his sockets closed and that weariness seeping away. It left him looking a little softer, a little warmer.

Beautiful, Edge had called him, so beautiful, and Stretch had to believe him. He’d been holding his soul, there wasn’t much denial Stretch could offer.

Very lightly, Stretch traced the crack that ran through Edge’s socket, the unevenness of it rough against his fingertip. Edge was beautiful, too, in so many ways, and maybe Edge wasn’t ready to hear that yet, not yet, but it didn’t mean Stretch couldn’t see it.

-finis-

[winchesterprincessbride]

Friday Top Ten Week 24-Listen Up, Ya Idjits!

Bobby Singer: Hunter. Mentor. Surrogate father to Sam and Dean. The grumpy guy in a trucker hat.  One half of one of my favorite hunter teams, Rufus and Bobby.  His crusty exterior covered up his sentimental side and his heart of gold. Bobby was a very wise man. This weeks list is my top ten favorite Bobby Singer quotes. 

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

“Inside Man.” Season 10, Episode 17

Bobby helps Cas break into heaven by creating a distraction so they can kidnap Metatron to get intel on how to remove the Mark of Cain. It was so good to see Bobby enjoying his heaven, reading a Tori Spelling biography and listening to Kenny Rogers on the radio.

“No, Garth, not me, the FBI. The real FBI! How are you still alive?”

“Weekend at Bobby’s” Season 6, Episode 4

Bobby is the guy the other hunters go to for help. This episode was an in-depth look at his life and his struggles that we don’t normally get to see. We saw or heard) him interact with Sam and Dean, Rufus, and Garth. It was pretty cool to see his phone setup, and his exchange on the phone with Garth was pretty funny.

“Well, as fate would have it, I adopted two boys, and they grew up great. They grew up heroes. So you can go to hell!”

“Death’s Door”  Season 7. Episode 10

Bobby is dying from a gunshot wound to the head, but he refuses to go with the reaper that has come for him because there is something important about the Leviathans he needs to tell Sam and Dean.  In this scene, he flashes back to his childhood with his abusive father. I bawled like a baby at the end of this episode.

Crowley: “Bobby, you going to sit there all night?”

Bobby: ”No, I’m gonna Riverdance!”

“Two Minutes to Midnight” Season 5, Episode 21

Bobby had a very prickly relationship with Crowley after the King of Hell tricked him into giving up his soul.  Bobby got it back in the end, and Crowley returned the use of his legs, so Bobby finally got out of the wheelchair.  It was a classic example of  Bobby’s snark at his best.

“That’s the round that I mean to put through my skull… Every morning, I look at it. I think, ‘Maybe today’s the day I flip the lights out.’ But I don’t do it. I never do it. You know why? Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!”

“Point of No Return” Season 5, Episode 18

This was a really important moment between Boby and Dean. Bobby feels useless as a hunter since he lost the use of his legs. Dean tries to reassure him he isn’t.  He wants to end it all, but he won’t because he promised Dean. Always keep fighting, no matter what. YOU MATTER

“Do I sound like I’m done? Now look, I know you’ve got issues. God knows, I know. But I got a news flash for you: you ain’t the center of the universe. Now, it may have slipped your mind, but Crowley owns my soul, and the meter is running, and I will be damned if I am gonna sit around and be damned! So how about you two sack up and help me for once?”

Weekend at Bobby’s  “Season 6, Episode 4

It was nice to see Bobby stand up for himself here, and remind Sam and Dean how much he does for them. They can get a wee bit self-centered at times. This little reality check was enough to get Dean’s ass on a plane, so I’d say it did the trick!

“Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?/Family don’t end with blood, Boy!”

“No Rest for the Wicked.”  Season 3, Episode 16

Dean’s year is about to run out, and when he and Sam try to sneak away and leave Bobby behind, he shows them YET AGAIN how he is always one step ahead of them by messing with Baby.

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family!”

“Lucifer Rising” Season 4, Episode 22

Another example of Bobby giving Dean a big dose of the hard truth just when he needs to hear it.  Sam is addicted to demon blood and off with Ruby, and Dean wants to wash his hands of him, but Bobby won’t let him because they are family.

“And if you two had bothered to pull your heads out of your asses, it all would’ve been pretty clear.”

“Tall Tales” Season 2, Episode 15

This scene was a riot! Sam and Dean are each telling THEIR versions of what’s happening with the case, all the while bickering like an old married couple, and Bobby is getting more and more annoyed. Then he says this! And Sam and Dean were clueless! LOVE THAT TRICKSTER

All the good you’ve done, all the people you’ve saved, all the sacrifices you’ve made? You’ve saved the world, son. How many people can say that? How many people can say that they have left this godforsaken hunk of dirt that much a better place? What you call dyin’ I call leavin’ a legacy.”

“I think I’m Gonna Like It Here” Season 9, Episode 1

Sam is dying after the trials, and a hallucination of Bobby appears to him in the woods. I love this, because I love Sam, and this just sums Sam up perfectly, as only Bobby can.

Thanks for hanging in my little corner of Tumblr for a spell, and see ya when I see ya!

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[mldrgrl]

The Care and Keeping of Your Alien Baby

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG Summary: portrait of an alien baby baby mama and alien baby baby daddy

With Scully on maternity leave and Mulder with all the time in the world, the only thing he could think to do was show up at her apartment early in the mornings and leave late into the night.  She didn't seem to mind...much.  He made excuses for it, called it boredom, but the truth was, since her brief little hospital stint, he was terrified of not being there if something went wrong.

Scully was hellbent on what the pregnancy books he'd been reading called “nesting.”  She cleaned cupboards, or tried to, but her belly always seemed to be in the way and since Mulder kept insisting he was there to help, not to be a nuisance to her, she put him to work.  So, he cleaned cupboards and emptied the little spare room under her scrutiny and supervision, boxing up books and knick knacks to take to goodwill later in the week.  He painted the walls a soft eggshell, questioning why it wasn't pink or blue or seafoam green or sunshine yellow, but she shook her head and insisted on eggshell.

The crib she ordered came in a box, the instructions with it came in French.  Mulder sat on the floor in the freshly painted, sparsely furnished spare room and metaphorically scratched his head as he studied the drawings of little wooden pieces that didn't seem to fit where they were supposed to.  

“I think it wants me to screw this piece into this one,” he said, holding up two wooden slats.  

“Let me see.”  Scully could no longer bend over easily, but she reached for the paper on the floor anyway.

“You look like one of those little Weeble people we saw at the toy store.”

“Thank you so much.”

Mulder smiled and dropped the slats to take her hands and help her kneel down.  It was like Lamaze class all over again except he didn't get to hold her this time.  She leaned over so she was on her hands and knees and maneuvered herself to the floor, expelling a long breath as she sat down.  The instructions were still just out of reached and she made a grabbing motion for them until Mulder slid them over.

“Thank you,” she said.  After a few moments of study, she pointed out to one of the pieces he'd just set down and another.  “That piece and that one.”

“You sure?  It looks too short.”

“Its got the two slots those others don't.”

“So does this one,” Mulder answered, picking up a piece on his other side.”

“Damn.”

“We’ll figure it out.  Even if I have to get a French dictionary from the library, we’ll figure it out.”

It took three hours of construction, deconstruction, and further construction to figure it out.  Scully stayed on the floor for most of it, frustrated that she couldn't help and wishing she'd thought to do it sooner.  Once her input was no longer needed and they were pretty sure the frame was holding up, she started working on putting the mobile together instead, tying little wooden stars into place.  When she was finished and wound it up so the music played, Mulder smiled as he twisted the screwdriver

“I’m almost done here, I think,” Mulder said.  “This should be the last piece.”

“I should see about dinner.”

Mulder put down the screwdriver and had to help her off the floor, laughing when she struggled to get to her feet.  She gave him an annoyed look and then let go of one of his hands to clutch her stomach.  He covered her hand with his, panic face on in an instant.

“What?” he asked.

“Just kicking,” she assured him, wincing and rubbing the side of her stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  She glanced up at him and then took his hand and moved it to where the baby’s foot was thumping against her abdomen.

“I think you’re incubating the next Michael Flatley in there,” he said.

Scully chuckled and then winced again.  “Don’t make me laugh, Mulder, my bladder can’t handle it right now.”

“I’m serious, Scully, that’s not kicking, it’s Riverdance.”

Scully pushed Mulder away and rushed to the bathroom.  Mulder laughed and finished screwing in the last piece on the crib.  There was still a handful of screws left, but he figured Scully need not know about those and he dropped them into the little toolbox of hers she’d produced at the start of the project.  Before he put the mattress on, he tested the drop of the front side, making sure it worked.

“Mulder?” Scully appeared in the doorway, just as he was wiggling the mattress into place.

“Yeah?”

“You staying for dinner?”  

“Pizza?”

“Well…”  She came closer to the crib and then ran a hand over the sloped side of the frame.

“We could go out,” he said, hopeful.  It had been pizza the last four nights in a row.  They both looked down at her flannel pajamas.  “Or I could pick something up.”

“Hmm…”  She reached inside the crib and pressed on the mattress.

“But, I suppose the baby really wants pizza?”

Scully had a bashful look on her face when she raised her eyes to his.  He smiled down at her and she looked away, smoothing her hand over the mattress.

“You did a good job,” she said.  “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Mulder, I…”

“What?”

“I’m...scared,” she said, almost in a whisper.

He turned towards her, but she stayed facing the crib so he put his hand on her shoulder.  “Of what?” he asked.  “The birth?”

She shrugged.

“Talk to me, Scully,” he said.

“I’ve been having dreams that the baby...that something isn't right.”

“I thought you ran tests.  You said everything was fine.”

“I did.  It is.  It’s stupid, I know, I’m just…”

“Hey,” he reached out and brushed the underside of her chin, urging her to look at him.  “It’s not stupid.  Given our history, our work, the things we’ve been through...it’s not stupid.”

She shook her head and put both hands on her stomach.  “Everything comes back okay, I shouldn’t be so...I just don’t know what I can trust.”

Mulder put his arm around her and she rested her head against his chest.  He rubbed her back and she sighed.  When she didn’t pull away, he put his other arm around her and set his chin on the top of her head.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.  Minutes went by and she still didn’t pull away, so he continued to hold her.

“Why don’t you ever stay?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here all the time, but you never stay.  Not since…”

“My Lazarus impression?”

Scully pulled away with her head down and Mulder shoved his hands inside his pockets.  She tucked her hair back over her ears and then shuffled across the room to the dresser and pulled out a set of crib sheets in a buttery shade of yellow.  He helped her tuck in the back edges of the fitted sheet because her arms weren’t long enough and her belly was in the way.

“Are you afraid that you’re doing all of this for nothing?” she asked suddenly, her eyes wide and wet when she looked up at him.

“For nothing?”

“Because the samples could’ve very well been tampered with when we tried the in vitro.  Who knows what Cancerman did to me when I went with him that weekend.  We were only together a few times before you were taken.  You have every reason to question the existence of this baby, Mulder and...and your part in it.  I won’t blame you if you just want to walk away.”

Mulder was fairly certain Scully didn’t realize she was crying.  He held her face with both hands and brushed her tears away with his thumbs.  She blinked up at him as though she was shocked she’d just spoken out loud.

“It’s your call, Scully,” he said.  “Whatever place I have in your life, it’s up to you.”

“But, what do you want, Mulder?”

His lips moved before he actually spoke.  “I want it to have been one of those few times.”

“So do I,” she whispered.  “But, what if...what if…”

“What if suddenly you’re an alien baby baby mama?”

Scully pulled away, wiping her eyes with her knuckles.  

“Sorry there aren't any textbooks out there for this,” he said.  “No What to Expect When You're Expecting an Alien Baby.”

“Mulder!” she exclaimed, a scowl forming on her face, brows deeply pinched.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked.  “What you’re afraid to say out loud.  You think the baby might not be human.”

She licked her lips and swallowed, but said nothing.  She didn't have to.  He knew it was true because it was his fear too.  She wiped her eyes again and then put her hands under the bottom swell of her belly.  Mulder took a step closer into her space and put his hands on the top swell.

“We’ll figure it out, Scully,” he said.  “We always do.”

She gave another nod, but her eyes were on the floor.  “I just want him to be healthy,” she said.

“I know.”  He tried to ignore the fact that she may have just given it away that the baby was a boy.  She’d been trying so hard not to reveal the gender, only referring to the baby as ‘my baby’, but maybe it wasn’t about the gender at all.  Maybe she’d been trying to convince herself it was a baby she was carrying, her own baby, and not something inhuman.  Maybe he'd kept his distance at first because he thought the same thing.

“I want him to have a normal life,” she said.

“Of course.”  She’d said him again.  A boy.  A son.  His son.

“I’m sorry, I forgot all about the pizza.”

Mulder blinked, startled by the change in subject.  Scully was rubbing her face with both hands like she was tired and she probably was.  Emotionally, mentally exhausted.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hoping she knew he wasn’t talking about the pizza.

“I’m craving mushrooms tonight.  Is that okay?”

“I’ll pick them off.  Hey,” he said, taking her arm as she went to walk out of the room.

“What?”

“You mind if I stay tonight?”

Her eyes were on his chest as she answered.  “I’d like that.”

“Good.”

*****

“I don’t understand, Mulder,” she whispered.  “They came to take him from us.  Why they didn't…”

Mulder looked down at the perfect little baby in his arms, surprised at how naturally it came to him, the urge to sway and rock from side to side.  “I don't quite understand that either,” he said.  “Except that maybe he isn't what they thought he was. That doesn't make him any less of a miracle though, does it?”

“From the moment I became pregnant, I feared the truth.  About how, and why.”  She lifted her eyes and looked up at Mulder.  “And I know that you feared it, too.”

“I think what we feared were the possibilities,” he said, tearing his eyes away from his son to look at her.  “The truth we both know.”

“Which is what?” she asked.

Hopefully the answer lay in one of those few times they were together.  He didn't really know how to say that to her, so he kissed her instead, wanting her to know that even with lingering unknowns, he still loved her.  And now this little bundle squirming in his arms.  

Scully was the one to pull away when the baby made a noise, something between a squawk and a chirp.  Her hand went to William’s fuzzy little head while Mulder tilted him higher to look into his face.

“I take it back, Scully,” Mulder said.  “Now that I see him in this light, he's way too good looking to take after Skinner.  With far more hair as well.”

Scully smiled as she stroked William’s head.  The baby turned towards Mulder’s chest and started rubbing his face against his shirt.  Mulder freed one hand so that he was cradling him in one arm and took one of William’s hands.  William gripped Mulder’s finger and drew it into his mouth.  

“I think someone might be hungry,” Mulder said, glancing over at Scully.  “And not for pizza, I’m guessing.”

“Let me sit down,” she said, turning to move slowly towards the bed.  

Mulder followed, rocking William back and forth as the baby began to furiously gnaw on his knuckle.  His little face grew pinched and red.  Scully settled back against her pillows and nodded at Mulder.  He gingerly transferred the baby into her arms and slipped his knuckle free from William’s mouth.  Will made a noise of frustrated protest and Scully worked at the buttons at the top of her shirt.

“Mulder, could you…”

“Of course,” he said, quickly averting his eyes and turning away.  “I'll just-”

“...grab the burp cloth by the bassinet for me?”

“Oh.  Yes, sure.”  

Mulder picked up the small rag folded next to the bassinet and took it over to Scully.  Seeing as though she clearly had her hands full trying to guide William's mouth to her breast, he draped it over her shoulder and she glanced up at him, but turned her attention back to the task at hand.  He tried not to look, to stare, but he was too fascinated not to.  Not because it was Scully's bare breast...okay, not just because it was Scully's bare breast, but because this little creature was about to take sustenance and comfort from it.

Scully seemed to be having a bit of trouble, though.  She winced and then looked wearily up at Mulder and shifted against the pillows.  “We’re still a little new at this,” she said, sheepishly.

Mulder had been reading a lot of pregnancy books lately and he knew far too much than he wanted to know about troubles with latching and cracked nipples and blocked ducts.  Far too much.

“Gee, Scully,” Mulder said.  “At four hours old I would’ve thought any kid of yours would be able to speak seven languages and solve quadratic equations.”

“Must take after you, then.”

“I’d like to think I know my way around a breast when I’m fortunate enough to have one in front of me, thank you very much.  I hope you’ll vouch for me in that department.”

Scully blushed and dropped her eyes to William, who seemed to have got the hang of things and was sucking contentedly.  “Sit down, Mulder,” she said, softly.  “You’re making me nervous.”

Mulder shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the chair in Scully’s corner.  He bent down to unlace his shoes and then stepped out of them before he moved up on the bed next to Scully.  She scooted over a little to make room, but he put his arm around her and brought her closer.  She relaxed and lay her head back on his shoulder.

“He’s perfect, Scully.”

“Yeah,” she answered, brushing the side of her finger down William’s cheek.

Only after a few minutes of nursing, William’s eyes closed and feeding became an unconscious, instinctual act.  Scully and Mulder watched him quietly, neither quite believing he was real.

Mulder touched one of William’s feet that was sticking out from the blanket.  The baby kicked and managed to dislodge his tiny sock.  Too far to reach for the bedside table, Mulder stuffed it in his pocket and then touched the little toes which curled reflexively against his finger.  He then reached for William’s hand and inspected the itty bitty fingernails.  

Scully took one of William’s hands and brought it to her mouth to kiss his palm.  She ran her hand over the white blonde fuzz on his head and stroked his browline.  Her arms were strangely already accustomed to his weight, like he’d always been there and she just hadn’t realized it.

Suddenly, William’s mouth went slack and he twisted his head away.  His face contorted slightly and he pulled his foot away from Mulder’s caress.  Squirming, he let out a great expulsion of gas that startled both Mulder and Scully.  Mulder was the first to laugh and Scully followed, lifting the baby up to her shoulder to pat his back just in case a belch would soon follow.

“Hey, kid,” Mulder said, squeezing William’s bare foot lightly.  “Say excuse me when you do that.  Sorry, Scully.  Maybe he does take after me.”

Scully chuckled and kissed William’s head as she continued to pat his back.  “Mulder?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.”

*****

Mulder didn't sleep at night anymore.  Not that he slept that much before, but whenever he did fall asleep, he woke in a panic, the sound of a baby crying still faintly thrumming in his ears.

He wished what kept him awake was one of those new parent things.  All the books advised to sleep when the baby slept.  That wasn't an option, though.  There was no baby.  Well, there was a baby, he just wasn't there.

It was cold in the little trailer Mulder lived in in the New Mexico desert.  They were a day away from the Winter solstice.  Christmas was in five days.  William was seven months old exactly.

As he did most nights, Mulder lay in bed, not sleeping, rubbing the soft little newborn sock that he'd pulled out of his pocket the week after he'd ended up in New Mexico.  It was the only memento he had of his son and he'd broke down weeping when he found it.

He slipped his thumb inside the sock, marveling at how snugly it fit, but for the life of him he couldn't remember if William’s foot has actually been that small.  It must've been, to fit so securely.  He remembered the feel of the toes curling against his finger when he touched the bottom of the baby's foot.  He also remembered the fierce grip William had taken of his finger.  

Surely William was no longer that small.  All the books said he'd have grown up to an inch a month and doubled his birthweight by now.  Last night he'd taken a ruler and measured 26 inches against the wall and wrapped up stacks of canned food in a blanket to estimate what holding 18 pounds of baby might feel like.

Every milestone he missed depressed him further.  He imagined William accomplishing the things he read about and wished he could've been there.  Peek-a-boo would probably be his favorite game at this point.  He'd know how to sit up and roll over and maybe even throw a ball.  He'd have teeth - maybe three or four of them now.  Mulder wondered if Scully was still breastfeeding.  He wondered how blue William’s eyes would be by now, because even though Scully insisted all babies had blue eyes, he knew that William’s were destined to be just as blue as his mother’s.

Though it was maybe too early to tell, Mulder wondered what kind of traits the baby had inherited.  Was he a moody baby, like Mulder could be?  Was he determined, like Scully?  Was he stubborn, like both his parents?  Curious?  Observant?  Did he have his mother’s skeptical brow or his father’s pouty lip?  Or was he simply his own person; one that laughed often, slept well, and trusted easily?

It wasn't fair.  The good guys were supposed to have happy endings.  They were supposed to be able to ride off into sunsets, raise their families in houses with white picket fences and porch swings, live happily ever after.  They weren't supposed to be driven apart by fear.  He was supposed to protect his son by being his father, not by leaving him behind.  Remember the days when they thought the worst that could happen was that the baby was an alien?  The isolation was much worse.

As usual, the tears gathered in Mulder’s eyes and he blinked them away.  He shoved the little sock back in his pocket and turned onto his side.  It was cold enough to see his breath in the trailer.  He wondered if Scully put William in snow suits and mittens and little stupid hats with flaps on the ears to keep him warm.

The funny thing was, it was a sunny, warm day when he'd left.  By early morning, the humidity and heat were already oppressive and Scully had worried over turning the air conditioner on because it might not be good for the baby.  It was the last conversation they'd had, and then he had to go.

Scully had let him hold William for one last time and he walked away for a moment to have a man-to-man conversation with him.  I hope it’s not for too long, buddy, but take care of your mom for me.  Be good.  Don’t wrinkle your nose up when she orders mushrooms on her pizza.  Try not to worry about things.  Don’t forget me.

He’d put the baby in the bassinet and wrapped his arms around Scully from behind because she wouldn’t turn around and face him.

“Scully, are you sure this is…”

“I don’t think we have a choice, Mulder.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Please, don’t make this any harder.”

“I want to stay, Scully.  I’ve always wanted to stay.”

“And I want you to stay too, Mulder.  So badly.”

And then he let her go.  Because neither of them knew what else to do and suddenly their number one priority was the safe-keeping of the little life sleeping in his little basket.  William might only be forty-eight hours old, but Mulder already knew he’d give up his life for him in a heartbeat.  If it would keep him safe, he would do anything.  

If only there was a book out there that could help him cope.  Everything You Wanted to Know About Being Exiled in the First Seven Months of Your Baby’s Life, But Were Afraid to Ask.  Maybe he would think about writing one himself.  If he survived it.

The End

[everyonethinksmynameiskayla]

Casa to Barca part three: Sangria and fake French soldiers

First of all, I posted some short video clips from Morocco: 

Imlil - https://youtu.be/laZnpeIvUNs

Akchour waterfall drive/hike - https://youtu.be/dbahZRt1lBI

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

When I got to Ronda I was really confused because I couldn’t find any taxis anywhere near the train station and my phone was telling me my hostel was a 40 minute walk away and the bus stand had no numbers or schedules on it, so I tried to ask a guy at the train information desk but he didn’t speak enough English so I basically just wandered in the direction of my hostel for about 20 minutes before I finally came across a cab. So glad I found one too because I did not realize that my hostel was at the bottom of the massive cliff/rock formation that Ronda is built on top of, so you have to drive all the way to the bottom of this huge hill and onto a dirt road which winds around next to the rock/cliff until you get to the hostel, which is next to the river that goes the middle of the rock (and Puente Novo, the famous bridge in Ronda, is built over). This picture is on Wanderlust too, but I figured it would put here it also for reference and also because I just really like this picture:

So the previous night I had broken out in body hives for some reason which escapes me still, and I had worn loose clothes and done the things WebMD told me to do but they were still there so once I set my stuff down I decided I would set out to try to find a pharmacy to get me some steriod cream and more anti-histamines. It was super hot and I was super itchy so I was not to excited to be walking up the giant hill, and then I heard a car coming behind me and I looked and recognized the guy who worked at the hostel in the passenger seat so I asked them for a ride and they were like sure. I got in the car and realized that Fernando, the guy who worked at the hostel, was wearing traditional Spanish ‘mountain bandit’ clothes (in his words) and he was like there’s actually a festival in Ronda this weekend do you want to come with me and my friends and I was like well I have mysterious body hives so I kinda wanted to go to the pharmacy but sure, but since that didn’t seem like appropriate we-just-met conversation, I stuck with “sure”. (We did stop into a pharmacy eventually and I got what I needed and it took like three more days but the hives eventually went away - the Spanish guys in a bar we stopped in, including the bartender, had a great time ‘helping’ to try to translate my steriod cream instructions). Fernando’s English was good enough that we could have basic conversation but he had a bit of a hard time explaining the festival, from what I understand it was to celebrate the era during which the mountain men in Ronda pushed Napolean away, so there was a parade with people from each surrounding village all dressed up and fake French soldiers being defeated etc. 

^ Note the guy plugging his ears, they were firing blanks but it was indeed quite loud

In the evening, there were stands with giant vats of potatoes and chorizo and huge coolers of red wine mixed with lemonade which, as it turns out, is amazing. There was a flamenco performance too (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KEj9xOYIn0). All of this was happening in the park that overlooks the mountains and fields (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWtzJf6EsD0&feature=youtu.be), although it was dark, but the festivities continued into the next day. 

Basically for a couple of days it was just me and a bunch of Spanish people dressed in fancy traditional clothes drinking sangria and eating a lot and celebrating in one of the coolest most beautiful cities I’ve ever been too. Ronda is known for its bridge and the whole cliff situation but if you walk a bit down the hill, its also got lovely winding cobblestone streets lined with white moorish puebla style houses/buildings which are typical to the region. There are pictures on Wanderlust. 

^ Fernando in his costume 

After Ronda I took the train to Granada, which is famous for the Alhambra palace/fort. But you have to get tickets for that online like 10 years before you’re even born, but I’ll get to that in a minute. My first full day there I took the bus into the Sierra Nevada mountains up to a little white puebla village called Capileira, from which you can hike down to another little village, Pampaneira, through a third village, Bubion. The mountains were amazingly beautiful and each village was more adorable than the next, with little narrow cobblestone streets up and down the hill lined with white adobe houses with flat roofs and these crazy looking chimneys (there are pictures on Wanderlust). 

So then the next day, since I wasn’t able to get tickets for the Alhambra online, I went at 5 AM to get in line (the way it works is that you can always go into the complex and the military part but to go into the palace you need a special ticket and those are the ones that sell out like crazy but if you get there early enough you have a chance of getting one of the few they keep on hand for the day-of). I wasn’t super excited about sitting around from 5-8 AM in line but I figured I was there I might as well. I was maybe the 20th person in line and I still wasn’t able to get a palace ticket, so I just went in with a normal ticket. I dilly dallied around for a while in the gardens waiting for the clouds to part and the sun to come out so I could get better photos of the view from the military fortress part, which was by far the best part of the whole place (https://youtu.be/aS_LST-9dT0). 

^ Not a bad view

Then I went to check out the view point where you can see the whole Alhambra from the old Jewish quarter, which was a hard spot to leave, despite the weird drunk guys selling jewelry there. 

Early the next morning I took the bus to Córdoba to spend the day on the way to Seville. As per usual, some great views along the way (including what I’m pretty sure was the original Windows background):

Córdoba is most well known for the Mezquita, which started as a mosque and around 1200 when the Catholics reclaimed southern Spain became a cathedral. I think that by that point the past two weeks of traveling were catching up to me and I was just about dead on my feet, I was so tired. So I mostly walked from bench to bench in the Mezquita, which was a truly awe-inspiring place (there are pictures of it and Córdoba generally on Wanderlust), resting and enjoying that the marble kept it cool in there. 

^ Mezquita selfie

After I left I walked in what felt like slow motion across the bridge and went into the tower/museum on the other side. From the roof you can see the Mezquita and most of the city, and the river was sort of green looking and the sky was super blue with fluffy white clouds, it was lovely. But I was exhausted so I didn’t stick around to check out the little miniature dioramas that seemed to make up the museum downstairs, instead I went to the gardens. There were orange trees everywhere and accordingly the whole area smelled like an orange peel. 

From there I wandered through the Jewish quarter into the newer area and back to the train station to head to Seville. Córdoba is filled with history and really a fascinating city so I feel like I should have more to say about it but I was so damn tired that day that’s about all I’ve got. But I recommend doing some clicking around about Córdoba. 

Anyway, I got to Seville that evening and took the bus to my hostel right downtown in the shopping district. 

^ Hostel rules, by doge

It was a huge place with lots of rooms with like ten bunks each and some people who were clearly living there. It was a holiday that day apparently so I couldn’t really find anywhere open to eat dinner and I can’t remember what I did, but I think I may have found some gelato open somewhere because I seem to remember eating ice cream for dinner. The next morning I took advantage of the laundry machines to wash my clothes and went and bought some pasta to make for lunch and later dinner since they had a nice kitchen and Spain was proving to be shockingly expensive after six months in Senegal. I basically toured Seville on foot for the rest of the day - I walked at least 15 km that day. I walked from the Cathedral to the river to the to Alcazar and around again. 

^ At the Alcazar. I loved the detail like this in all the Moorish architecture in Spain and just about everything in Morocco

Then that evening I went to a Flamenco show at a really small but famous Taberna (place to watch Flamenco) which was so cool - took me back to my days watching Riverdance/Lord of the Dance where there was that once scene with the really emotional lady in red doing Flamenco. I used to fast-forward through that part when I was little because it was too slow and I think maybe I was a bit freaked out by her intensity, but now that I am an ice-cream-for-dinnner-adult I can’t get enough. 

I had saved the Plaza de España for the whole next day (until I had to get to my evening flight to Barcelona) because they filmed parts of Star Wars (Phantom Menace, but still) there, so obviously it was important. 

^ !!!!!!

Finally, Barcelona. I got there around 9 PM and got the shuttle bus downtown and then the train to where my hostel was, which wasn’t actually in the city, it was in some sort of park in the hills about 15 minutes outside (because it was the cheapest per night by about $30). But I guess I was expecting a bit more civilization so I got of the metro and walked up this huge hill through this park to get to the hostel, which was absolutely massive. It was like three buildings, including an athletic complex with a pool and a full restaurant - I felt like I was at sleep-away camp. It’s staffed entirely by special-needs adults and is also a non-profit so that was cool. For some reason the rooms on my floor of my building seemed to be entirely filled with American and French school groups or scouts or something because there was a ton of 12 year olds with their chaperones everywhere all the time. 

I started my self-guided walking tour of Barcelona with La Rambla, the quintessential pedestrian walkway up from the water into the central shopping district:

I branched off to check out the cathedral, although at this point I feel like I’ve seen so many cathedrals that they all blur together and also I was pissed because they made me pay a euro to go to bathroom. Like a whole euro to pee?? Usually it’s just 50 cents and I already resent that. I passed by some of Gaudi’s buildings, which are crazy and look like something straight out of Dr. Seuss (just google Gaudi or look at the pictures I posted, you’ll see what I mean). I could always tell when I was getting close to one because there would be tons of people standing around on the street taking pictures for no apparent reason, until you got close enough to see the building they were looking at. I weirdly felt like the Catalan language, in my limited experience of hearing and seeing it for a few days, matched nicely with Gaudi’s work - it was sort of a distorted Spanish with a different rhythm, just like Gaudi made buildings that look like a reflection in a fun mirror. My favorite part of Barcelona was definitely the outdoor market, the name of which now slips my mind. There were so many stands with so many colorful delicious looking things that I ended up just getting some coconut and then walking around because I was too overwhelmed by all the choices to actually chose something. 

^ The market 

I walked all the way up through basically the whole city (I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much of one place in just a day) to this spot at the very top of the hill (the city gradually goes up hill from the ocean) to check out the view: https://youtu.be/DDqhBcSL0tU. Then I walked back down in the other direction to pass the Sagrada Familia, another Gaudi work and definitely not like the other cathedrals that just blend together (although technically it’s a basilica but I’ve never been super clear on the difference). Unfortunately it’s being restored so none of my photos turned out because of the scaffolding, so here’s a picture I got from the internet instead:

Then I made my way to a park by the water and then back up the hill again (can’t even tell you how sweaty I was) to Parc Guëll, ostensibly Gaudi’s masterpiece. It’s a big park on the hill and in the middle theres a large wiggly terrance that looks out over these two buildings that look like Dr. Seuss drew a gingerbread house, very surreal.

The next day I went back into the city briefly but since I had to leave the hostel at 2 AM to get my 6:40 AM flight (because the trains stop running and I wasn’t about to shell out 40 euros for a taxi) and was already exhausted but hoping to jump right back into working the Monday after I got home (I got back at noon on Sunday), I only stayed a few hours and then went back and slept from about 7 PM to 1 AM, then got my train to the airport. 

[iguana012]

Japanese Nats: The Aftermath

This recap is almost 3 weeks late but fwiw I judged the event on The Judges’ Table. If you’re interested in my (serious) opinions about the competition, you can read them there. If you’re interested in my less censored opinions, I will include as much as I can in this post. 

So what happened is that Japan crowned their tiniest champions ever, Satoko Miyahara (her 3rd title) and Shoma Uno (his 1st title). But some people were less interested in that and more interested in receiving updates on Yuzuru Hanyu’s recovery after he decided to withdraw from the competition in order to prioritize his health, thus generating earthquakes among his sensitive fans. Other people (those who attended the competition) went just to see Mao Asada but they were polite enough not to get up and empty the arena while Mao wasn’t skating unlike what happened at the Sochi Olympics when Evgeni Plushenko withdrew from the men’s event. 

Now I’m not pretending to be some advocate of justice and I’m not intending to preach. But I believe this is a good opportunity to highlight frequent problems in the skating fandom so you won’t be tempted to fall into their traps. 

DISCLAIMER: I do realize I’m already in a very high risk of getting attacked by some Yuzu fans via anon asks or salty replies/reblogs but I’m gonna say this again: it’s okay if you’re not into my kind of “”””humor”””. You can ignore me and I promise I won’t get a boo-boo. GETTING TO THE SUBJECT NOW!

THE LADIES EVENT aka Game Of Thrones

Satoko Miyahara waltzed into this event giving negative fucks and the results showed: when she gives negative fucks, that 3Lz-3T combo in the second half of her SP is miraculously rotated. As a consequence she got 76 for her program and further established her new position as one of the most overscored skaters currently competing (don’t believe me? Ask the Russian ubers and Mao ubers). I also thought “damn, this empty program actually looks nice when neither she nor I have to worry about rotations”. But the key here is to make the program look like that when you give a lot of fucks as opposed to negative fucks, and Mie Hamada knew that. So the next day before Satoko skated her FS, Hamada annoyed the crap out of her and pressured her as a strategy to make her get used to skating clean when she gives a lot of fucks, such as when she’s thinking she’s gotta get a medal in a relevant event, including the Olympics. For now, Satoko is still failing that test because she had a step-out on the 3Lz-3T combo and a couple of carrots. 

Wakaba Higuchi finally - I repeat - FINALLY skated a clean short program and it was so adorable to see her get all excited and happy about it. Except it wasn’t a squeaky-clean program because she got a wrong edge call on her flip. What can ya do, if ya got a good lutz ya gotta lip and when ya got a good flip ya gotta flutz. She’s gonna have to follow Satoko’s example and replace that lip with a loop and be done with it. Other than that, damn this girl got huge jumps. Everyone loves some huge jumps. However, the disadvantage of huge jumps is that you gotta have very good control of the landing and you have to know how to manage your speed, when to speed up, when to slow down, otherwise you’re doomed to pull a Midori Ito and land your jumps over the cameraman outside the boards. (Have you imagined Evgenia Medvedeva landing one of her 3-3-3 combos on Tarasova’s table cause I did and I cracked myself up really). 

Another skater who is fast as crap and has great technique on top of that is Mai Mihara who won the bronze medal and got herself a ticket to Worlds. Just a year ago around this time she was watching Nationals on TV from a hospital bed having been diagnosed with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. Doesn’t that make a great Cinderella story? She is, actually, skating to Cinderella but her style is still stuck somewhere on the road between junior and senior (she was pretty good as a junior but I didn’t like her skating then and I’m not necessarily warming up now) but she seems like a very sweet girl and if there’s anyone who deserved going to Worlds aside from Satoko and Wakaba, it’s this young lady. 

Marin Honda is another skater who finally - I repeat - FINALLY skated a clean short program after burying herself in competitions right from the start. The poor girl has been under so much constant pressure this season I feel like she’s always on the verge of having an emotional breakdown. It’s not only the fact that she’s cried a number of times after her performances, but this season she always looked like she was terrified of her results no matter how she skated. I’m not a fan of either of her programs this season (SP is similar to last season’s and the FS is a hot mess combo of Yuzuru’s Romeo & Juliet 1 and 2) but she has excellent skating skills, musicality, expression, projection to the audience for her age. She doesn’t have the best jump technique but she is one of the few lucky ones with a clean lutz AND flip. After a smooth short program, a popped jump in the free prevented her from stepping onto the podium but that’s how it is in competition; it’s not about what you’re able to do, it’s about what you end up doing when it counts. 

Rika Hongo has been in serious trouble ever since the beginning of this season - or maybe as far as the previous Nationals - and the worst case scenario happened. She finished 5th and now the juniors ahead of her are old enough to go to Worlds in her place. While she was 2nd in the SP with the best performance of the season, she went down to 6th in the FS and finished 5th overall despite bringing back Riverdance, a program that worked for her last year. Unfortunately the spark, the freedom and the joy that was present last season was absent in this competition as she was very nervous even before she took the ice. 

Yuna Shiraiwa on the other hand... I’m only going to say this. Clean 3Lz-3T and (second half) 3F-3T combos in the FS. No UR calls. Highest TES (71.74) of the evening. She’s the real MVP in Hamada’s team. 

THE OLD(ER) GENERATION

This was Mao Asada’s worst result at Nationals but instead of having retirement thoughts (like she had last season at Nationals even though she skated better), she’s still determined to come back stronger next season. An old knee injury prevented her from landing the 3A and rotating a lot of her jumps but at this point she’s obviously not skating for the medals as much as she’s skating for herself. No skater wants to leave the competitive world with regrets so who are we to judge Mao’s decision to continue in spite of physical difficulties? With Yuzuru absent due to influenza, most fans attended the competition to see Mao and it was obvious just counting the number of flowers that were thrown on the ice for her compared to the other skaters. 

Redemption from Kanako Murakami, who is also nearing the end of her career but managed to deliver the first clean FS she’s skated in ages. That’s all she wanted from this competition, she got it, and she awarded the audience with her signature Kanako Smile.

Painful competition for Haruka Imai, former Japanese Jr National Champion and 4th at the 2014 4CC. No GP assignments this season, she was plagued by inflammation of her hips and knees but she fought to land the 3Lz and 3F. This was also the first time we got to see one of her new programs (the FS, which is Primavera by Einaudi) and she’s still beautiful to watch. 

SHOMA UNO & CO.

It was kind of depressing to watch the men’s event this year because only a couple of years ago it was the fiercest event at Nationals. Keiji Tanaka seized his chance to grab onto the silver medal while Takahito Mura’s bronze was (once again) useless - as harsh as it sounds. Shoma wasn’t at his best here but he showed that he learned a new lesson (tag a 3T to a different jump if you screw up one of your planned combos!!) and he came out of this alive and well. The added pressure of having to “live up to expectations” in the absence of Olympic King Zuzu was another thing he suddenly had to put up with (good job Fuji). But there’s an old saying; “better here than at Worlds”. 

CONTROVERSIES 

While Satoko and Shoma are the tiniest champions Japan has ever had, they’re also the most criticized. They both have to skate under the shadows of two skating giants, Mao and Yuzuru, who have hoards of fans. Among those hoards of fans there are ubers, people who have made a habit out of bashing their favorite skaters’ successors. In Japan there already are Mao ubers whose jobs are to tear Satoko apart and the disease has long spread worldwide. You can see it on forums, you can see it on comment sections of YouTube videos, you can even hear it on television (looking at you Simon Reed). People who write passive-aggressive, sarcastic remarks, calling Satoko names and whatnot. Shoma gets similar (though mellower) treatment from overseas fans, but not from Japanese fans, possibly due to the fact that he’s a Daisuke Takahashi fan so most of Dai’s fans are now supporting him. 

These two young skaters (and not only) deserve all the support in the world. It’s not easy to become Japan’s supporting pillar and leading lady after the great Mao Asada, but Satoko is doing an incredible job. Appreciate more, bash less. Don’t let the judges cloud your judgement. There’s also a massive amount of PR in figure skating; Mao has so many sponsors you can see her in commercials, you can see fluff videos about her because that’s what the general audience wants. She’s been advertised as a child prodigy (which she was) and people consider her part of their family. Satoko doesn’t benefit from that kind of treatment so people tend to be cold and judgmental towards her because she’s nothing compared to Mao-chan (oh dear those jumps, oh dear the way she bends her knee, oh dear her face). 

Recently Marin Honda has been getting the “heir of Mao” treatment, getting sponsorship from JAL, shooting CMs for Ghana and stuff. I feel like I have to point out the fact that all of her siblings, including herself, are managed by a hugely influential management company. If you’re into Japanese entertainment, you might have heard of it. It’s called Oscar Promotion and it’s a talent agency whose famous names include actresses Emi Takei, Aya Ueto and Ayame Gouriki. She’s been promoted and modeled by a talent agency since she was a young child so she’s an expert at working with the camera, the audience and the reporters. As a result she’s also been gathering - well, pretty scary fans who are downright infatuated with her and will start arguments if you dare criticize her. Similar to idol group fans, I’d say. 

But this is figure skating and crack commentaries aside we’re talking about real, young people with feelings who are training every day from dawn till dusk, who get injured, who sacrifice their childhood and adolescence. We’re also talking about real fans behind the computer screen who like who they like and no one person is entitled to criticize or ridicule the things that make them happy. At the same time, no one is entitled to attack fans who criticize your favorite skater(s) as long as they bring valid arguments and they’re polite about it. And no one is entitled to attack another fan whose way of seeing or perceiving things is either more or less intense than yours. Be nice to each other. #PEACE

[moonstarphoenix]

Nationals 2019 Men SP

Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. Last night’s ladies event was very exciting! Alysa Liu is the future of ladies and it will be interesting to see how she develops and ages. I find it funny she’s not even age eligible for Junior Worlds this year, but it is what it is.

So anyway, today we have the men’s SP. Like yesterday, I’m not covering every skater. There’s just too many, so many there’s a part 1 and part 2 according to the streaming schedule. I fully expect Nathan to win, but I hope that Jason does well as well.

I adore Jimmy Ma. He’s such a showman. Oooh, popped the quad. Nice recovery on the triple axel. There’s the Jimmy Ma we love.  I was hoping he would do better this year. He’s an entertaining skater and I hope he continues to improve and have fun. Dude, don’t ever change.

Alex Johnson deserves a mention, since it’s his last Nationals. He’s not bad either. He’ll go behind Jimmy Ma.

I’m impressed that Sean Rabbitt has managed to hold onto to second so far. He was one of the first skaters earlier this morning.

Nathan Chen is next. This program is fun. He looks like he’s having more fun with this program than I’ve seen all season. Such a fun program and his jumps are just huge. Nice and clean. A little forward on the triple axel though and he could use a little bit more choreography between jumps instead of saving it all until after, but still. This is classic Nathan. Damn, that’s a huge score! Hehe, even Michael Weiss admits that scores are inflated at Nationals.

Lots of our men have potential but haven’t broken through yet. Aleksei Krasnozhon is one of those. Nice skate and good score.

The final group has Jason and Vincent Zhou. Jason and Zhou are the only ones that can really compete with Nathan. Jason has the artistic, Zhou the technical. I’m not a fan of Zhou. There’s something about his attitude that rubs me wrong. However, barring any tragic performance, it should be those three, but as last night proved anything is possible.

Tim Dolensky is first. If I remember correctly, he did well a few seasons ago, maybe 2014 with Jason. He’s the second male I’ve seen in jeans/jeans-like. It’s kind of nice and different from the normal black pants. Nice and solid so far on his triple and triple axel. Oh, hand down on the quad but still pulls off a combo. He’s very pleasant to watch. I like his style. He has a lot of speed. Not bad. Not bad at all. Nice solid score. Should hold up well for the long program.

Jason Brown is next. He’s probably my favorite male skater. I’ve loved him since the Riverdance program and I kind of wish he would do a more upbeat program like that again. I had hopes for Hamilton last season but that was a bad song to chose and a bad cut. That said I love this short program. Every move has choreography and meaning. Clean and solid jumps. The move to Brian Orser and Tracey Wilson has been great for him. I know he’s working on a quad and I hope he can get it in one day. With his performance skills, he could beat Nathan if he had the quad. Ends right on cue with the music. Damn! He’s just great! SHIT! Look at that score! And without a quad! This has been a great season for him.

Vincent Zhou is next. Now he’s the opposite of Jason. He has Nathan’s quads but not the artistry. He hasn’t had the greatest season so far if I recall. Seems to be behind him now. Not bad. I still don’t particularly care for him, but that was a good performance for him. Wow, only .3 points behind Jason. That’s what the quad does for you. Imagine what Jason’s score could be with the quad.

Tomoki Hiwatashi is a new one to me, but it’s his third senior year. Not the music I expected at first based on what he’s wearing. Triple axel but wonky landing. And now we are into the more easy listening part of the music that I was expecting. He’s got a lot of speed and potential. Ooh, slight stumble in a simple footwork. Looks like his skate just got caught in the other. He had so much speed that he almost pushed himself out of the ending position. He’s another that I think could benefit from a more rocker song.

Andrew Torgashev is skating to Journey’s Open Arms and is dedicated to the Stoneman Douglas High School school shooting victims. He’s got a lot of speed, almost too much. Clean triple combo. Despite the mistakes, I can feel the emotion in his performance. That is a lovely, emotional program and would have had a huge impact had it been clean. A top 10 finish though.

And that’s our men short programs for 2019. The top three are not a surprise at all, but I look forward to seeing what the long programs will bring. Until tomorrow, my friends!

[moonstarphoenix]

Skate Canada Pt. 4

So I missed the men’s free yesterday because hey, it’s Saturday afternoon, but I’m a completionist and I wanted to see Jason’s and Alexander’s long programs so here’s my thoughts on the competition even though I know most of you already know the results. Enjoy!

Jason Brown is in the unimaginable position of second to last in the standings and he skates first. Let’s see if he does better tonight. It’s weird seeing him without Kori but I’m interested to see how the new coaching situation will work for him. An oldie medley. I miss his more fun programs. Hamilton was supposed to be it last year but he chose the wrong song, it was badly cut and not well choreographed. I think that was supposed to be a triple. There he is. God he has better extensions than most of the women. He’s solid today mostly on his jumps. I like the program for him though. The most frustrating thing about Jason is he could be a top man in the world if he had quads. He’s got the skills, the choreography, the presentation. Just not quite the jumps yet. A nice program overall. He’s happy with the scores and so is Brian Orser.

Kevin Aymoz, the Frenchman is next. I liked him in the short, so I’m intrigued. Oh, to much spped out of the axel. I love when they switch up the music between the long and the sort. It showcases different versions of yourself. He seems pretty on tonight though it looked like he winced there at the end of one jump. Ooooh, interesting move though. He could use a little more passion but a fabulous performance. I really liked it! Side note, I love seeing former elite skaters become coaches. Brian Orser, John Zimmerman. They’ve been there, they know what its like. And how cute is it seeing John Zimmerman coaching with his wife Sylvia?! And hearing the French accent speak English? Wow, did he get downgraded a lot? I’m surprised he’s in second but it must be close to Jason.

Roman Sadovsky is next from Canada, skating to Schlinder’s List. So we re going to dark now. And I just realized how fitting this program is given what happened yesterday in Pittsburgh.

A sanctuary of worship! What is wrong with people? All because some racist, white supremacist hates other people and a different religion? I don’t understand. I’ll never understand. My heart breaks for the Jewish community worldwide. I want to help in anyway I can so if anybody wants to talk, my inbox is always open.

Back to skating. Very haunting music and a very beautiful program to go with it. Roman missed a few jumps but that is one of those programs where I said if done right, the soft music can be as impactful as an upbeat one and it was indeed. Wow, he’s third behind Kevin and Jason.

Nam Nguyen continues his season with La La Land. I liked this program last week and he’s doing much better jumpwise tonight. The men are bringing it tonight. Good for him! An excellent program overall. He’s happy with it. The crowd loved it. Him and Keegan are looking to replace Patrick Chan as the top Canadian man very easily. And he’s rightfully in first. He was cleaner and had a better short.

How fun is it to hear what they say in the kiss and cry? The NBC Gold Pass was the best thing I ever got, especially when you get to see it with absolutely no commentary!

Kazuki Tomono is next and oh my God! Riverdance! That explains the brillant green. Jason’s Riverdance will always be the ultimate for me, so let’s see how this compares. Oh, he is not doing well on his jumps. Two falls on the first two. He skates with a lot of speed which is perfect for this program and he actually just did some Irish step dancing! I like this program! He’s using music from the whole show it seems (and yes, I’ve seen it. Twice. Don’t judge me.) Clean, this will be a killer, crowdpleasing program. I like it. It’s different than Jason’s but just as good. Nice hat, dude. Kid’s got personality. I like it. Ouch, but fair score.

Brendan Kerry will close this first group, skating to Grease is a leather jacket and fingerless gloves. Dude, I might love you. What Grease song is this? Oh, there is one a know. Hey look, some personality. I like the footwork sequence. It’s intricate and complicated. I like him but dude, smile a little. He has potential though. Haha, his coach is encouraging him to remember the camera. Aw, he’ll finish second from the bottom. I like him though. Another to keep an eye on.

Alexander Majorov is wearing quite an interesting shirt and tie. Interesing music but I’m kind of bored. He’s skating very slow and not doing well on his jumps. I will always see Ricky and Lucy every time I hear Cuban PPete. Eh, okay.

I was told Alexander Samarin is actually skating to The Greatest Showman and he even has the coat! I’m excited. He needs to smile though, have some fun. The into in the warmup was stone cold. He’s like no personality on the ice. A program like this needs someone like Jason or Kazuki. I’m disappointed. It’s not well choreographed and the wrong skater is skating to it. There’s...nothing there. The audience should be eating out of the palm of his hand and they’re just sitting there. Oh well, hopefully, there’s another Greatest Showman program out there somewhere.

Daniel Samohin is next. He’s skating to Once Upon a Time in Mexico. I like this music. The guitar solo at the beginning is awesome leading into the more latin flavored music. He’s not doing well on his jumps. Okay, I lied. That was nice. Okay, that’s another one that could be better and should have the audience entranced. He’s not happy with that performance. Lots of missed jumps.

I just realized that Jason will do no worse than 6th. That’s not bad for someone who is second to last.

Now for the top three. Junhwan Cha is kating to the Leonardo Dicaprio version on Romeo and Juliet. Yay for originality! I’m surprised it’s not used more. Lovely purple by the way. Oh bad fall. Very dramatic intro. Oh, I love it. He’s using the dance music from the party scene. I like this program. Using the spoken words during the song, the instrumental of Kissing You. It’s a nice change from the countless classic ballet Romeo and Juliet. Very nice. I enjoyed that performance.

Shoma Uno is not here to play. Damn. That’s a focused face. Moonlight Sonata. That’s popular this season. He’s intense in this performance. Wow. Not clean, but an excellent performance. Sometimes, you don’t need a story to entrance the audience. In first, rightfully so.

Keegan Messing is our final competitor tonight. I liked his short and he is very popular in Canada. Let’s see how he does in the long in a full suit nonetheless. He’s got a lot of speed. It’s less cheesy than I though a Charlie Chapin program would be. Aw, I like Keegan. He’s a great skater. This isn’t on par with Shoma’s but still great, despite the fall. I wonder where if he holds onto to first. And he does not.

Shoma will get the gold.

Jason moves up to six.

And that’s it for Skate Canada. Next weekend, I’m going to my brothers (blah!) but I’ll try to cover Finland I think it is, mostly because I hate going there and skating will distract me. Until next time, my loves!