#okay that's an exaggeration but dude to say i write like a fairy????

[bookishjules]

today the 10yo i babysit said i have "fairy handwriting" and i swear i have never received a better compliment

[medea10]

My Review of Flowers of Evil

How did I get into this anime? Because Flowers of Evil is something no one says, “Oh I want to see that, this looks like a masterpiece”! Oh, I was well familiar with the rotoscope nightmare stories from this and hoped to God my randomizer wouldn’t curse me with watching Flowers of Evil. I was however intrigued to learn that there was a yandere in this anime that’s on Yuno Gasai AND Shion Sonozaki levels. But intrigue can only get me so far when you spend 13 episodes watching…

THIS!

No this is not an exaggeration. Everyone has this kind of cringe face throughout the entire anime series. Be afraid children.

So the story is about this guy named Takao Kasuga. He loves to read and he loves the class smarty-pants Nanako Saeki. He doesn’t just love her, he sees her as his muse and his Venus and all that bullshit. But this is an admiration from afar. Pretty sure Saeki doesn’t even know he exists! One day, Kasuga forgets his book in his classroom. And on the ground, he notices a gym bag that belongs to Saeki. Oh come on, he’s not gonna go down the perverted route and steal a girl’s gym…

So he steals Saeki’s gym uniform. And surprise, one person knew what happened. The class loner, Nakamura! She forces Kasuga to form a contract with her. It wasn’t written or anything, just verbal. However, that doesn’t stop Nakamura from forcing Kasuga to do whatever she wants. But does Nakamura really like Kasuga or is she just into torturing this shit-faced pervert?

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: You know, I’m too thrown off by the animation here that it has temporarily paralyzed me from catching voices or even giving a damn. I’m familiar with only two of the cast mates and the rest is literally my first time hearing it. Okay, I have one comment here. I often forget Mariya Ise could do some damn-ass scary characters like Nakamura. And when she does those murderous screams, forget about it! Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Kasuga is played by Shinichirou Ueda

*Saeki is played by Yoko Hikasa (known for Bea on Pokemon Journeys, Rias on High School DxD, Mio on K-ON!, Hina on Domestic Girlfriend, Kirigiri on Danganronpa, Frieda on Attack on Titan, and Diana on Little Witch Academia)

*Nakamura is played by Mariya Ise (known for Bonnie on Pokemon XY, Levy on Fairy Tail, Ray on The Promised Neverland, Stocking on Panty & Stocking, Mika on Durarara, Dorothy on Black Clover, and Yuuko on Yuri on Ice)

SHIPPING: Oh please, anime Gods, do not turn this into another School Days fiasco. I find myself praying for this a lot these days. But in this anime’s case, please do not go down that route!

So, it was clear from episode one that Kasuga had a crush on Saeki. But this got very perverted very fast when he stole her gym clothes and that lead to the contract with Nakamura. Now is Nakamura romantically invested in Kasuga or is she just a crazy bitch. Let’s chalk this up to a 50-50 split here.

It wasn’t until the fourth episode where Kasuga and Saeki actually spoke to each other. And one episode later, they go on a date and end up in a relationship. One has to wonder if Kasuga would have one day acted on his own and ask Saeki out. All of this happened because he was being forced by that psychopath Nakamura. She tortured this kid and forced him to do so many unethical things. Stripping him naked and putting Saeki’s uniform on him for one! Who does that? So would Kasuga have done these sporadic actions if Nakamura wasn’t in the picture? After he stole that uniform, anything is possible. Now here’s the crazy shit here, Saeki loves Kasuga and she doesn’t care that he stole her gym uniform and did fuck-knows-what with it. She’s mad that Kasuga hid it, but still loves him.

Girl, the fuck is wrong with you?! You must be some special kind of crazy!

By the end of this series, you do see a shift in Kasuga and who he wants to chase after. Saeki or Nakamura?! Let’s just say that during a running away scene, Kasuga was going to go home with Saeki until he saw Nakamura and he chases after her. That’s a pretty good sign that Kasuga has switched gears on who he likes. I won’t delve any further than that as the anime only gives us so much and the rest of this love turmoil between these three characters is covered only in the manga. Probably a sign I should read the manga!

LOOOOOONG NO DIALOGUE MOMENTS: Dude, I know you’re trying to set the mood for certain moments, but I think you can dial it back a bit. This complaint isn’t just what happened at the beginning of episode 9; it took forever to get the main gist of this story in the very first episode. I had no idea what the main premise of the story was until the last five minutes of the first episode when Kasuga stole Saeki’s gym uniform.

Now I’m not knocking serious moments where there is no dialogue between characters for a long period of time and we just watch the animation of them walking or doing something. Hell, Neon Genesis Evangelion had famous scenes like that. But the elevator scene didn’t last six fucking minutes. Neither did the scene where Shinji kills Kaowru. In episode 9, we watch Nakamura and Kasuga walking from the school to home and watch the whole walk after destroying the classroom. I guarantee you, you could leave this episode running, fix yourself a bowl of cereal and toast, eat it up, go to the bathroom to have a good yank, then finish it off with watching a Che Guevara documentary…and Nakamura and Kasuga would still be walking home! I’m exaggerating and I don’t care. I feel like being an asshole here.

OH DEAR GOD, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!: Very rarely will I ever look at an opening or ending theme song in literal fear. In fact, the last one to be so morbid was with Attack on Titan’s second season ending. I mean, the imagery alone should tell you that this is full of spoilers and possessed by the devil itself. Now that I think about it, that’s still undefeated. But Flowers of Evil’s ending theme is a close fucking second. Have you heard this thing? It sounds like Bjork singing in Japanese, synthesized, while a cat walks on a keyboard and having a seizure at the same time. Thank God there are no actual visuals for this other than the flower featured on Kasuga’s book. I don’t think we can handle anymore animation from this nightmare fuel.

ENDING: The writing is on the wall!

And the floor, the ceiling…that classroom is just a fucking mess!

Kasuga’s one bad deed led to another and another in a domino effect. And instead of a little devil on his shoulder, he has a classmate that’s a sociopath. Kasuga has guilt about hiding so much from Saeki in this relationship and he wants to tell her everything he did. Nakamura says, “Nah, you’re going to write it all over the classroom and let the whole world know what a piece of shit you are”. Let’s just say Nakamura and Kasuga went overboard and completely destroyed their classroom. Kasuga gets a bit of a lucky break as the other vandalism covered up his name on the chalkboard confession. But two people have caught onto Kasuga’s crime, Saeki and Kasuga’s mother.

Saeki put two and two together when she noticed the ink smearing on the ground resembled the flower art work on Kasuga’s book “Flowers of Evil” and her stolen gym uniform was placed right there. As for Kasuga’s mother, she put two and two together when she heard what happened to his classroom and noticed Kasuga’s behavior and dirty clothes from the night of the crime. Won’t be long before everyone knows what Kasuga did.

What now, shit-face?

Run away with Nakamura to the next town. Yeah, why the fuck not?! Saeki ends up tracking them down and tried to convince them to come back and for Kasuga to be truthful. Saeki wants Kasuga and I almost want to say the same, except hanging around this psycho-bitch for a while has caused him to try to stop Nakamura from leaving. Having Saeki see Kasuga go after Nakamura isn’t really a good look! At this point, it really feels like his love for Saeki was nothing more than lust.

Dude, isn’t there a rule about not messing with crazy…like, don’t stick your dick in crazy?! This dude has got one crazy bitch on psycho-yandere levels and the other that’s about to turn into Kotonoha from School Days in about five seconds. Well, no one left town today as the police were called to look for Saeki because her parents are overprotective types and they take the other kids in.

We get a small time-leap of one month after the night in the police station. Nakamura’s been ignoring Kasuga and Kasuga ends his relationship with Saeki. Dude, stop trying to stick your dick in crazy! Kasuga tries to speak to Nakamura again and it fails. So he visits her at home and meets Nakamura’s father and grandmother. Then, he sneaks into her room and reads her private journal that talks about Kasuga a lot. Dude, you are stepping in uncharted territory! Drop the journal and get the fuck out before Nakamura comes home. So Nakamura comes in her room and finds shit-face reading her journal.

*sighs*

First, I would like to acknowledge that Mariya Ise has one hell of a throat to scream as much as this crazy bitch does. Second, the fuck did I just say, ya dumbass?! Here we get another chase scene between Kasuga and Nakamura. What follows is…I can’t place my thoughts on this. Weird imagery, out of place dialogue, and possible scenes of future stuff to happen! A rape scene involving Saeki, a festival, a hideout, a knife, and fire! Thanks for the cryptic message guys, really appreciate it! Either the anime ran out of money or they’re fucking with the audience. Kasuga says he wants to form a contract with Nakamura and that’s the end!

Hmm, this anime came out in 2013 and it is now 2021. All the buildup and no word on a sequel! We all know that sequel ain’t ever coming. You have a better chance of a continuation to Haruhi Suzumiya than you do with this hunk of shit.

Okay, maybe ‘hunk of shit’ is too mean. This wasn’t a terrible anime. It was weird as fuck, the animation leaves a bad impression, but overall it wasn’t that bad. Now the manga to Flowers of Evil is a favorite to many. Probably because the characters don’t look like a cringey meme and there aren’t so many awkward pauses with no dialogue. Unless there’s a whole volume of Flowers of Evil out there where we just look at pictures of Nakamura and Kasuga walking home where they don’t say a fucking thing! I am not letting that go! Charlie Brown movies didn’t go to that level you guys did!

I was interested with each passing episode to see what Nakamura was going to do next and what she was capable of. I couldn’t make out if she was going to be homicidal or suicidal or just impact psychological warfare on her prey. It was the latter for this series, but I heard of some attempted seppuku going down in the manga. I’d like to think maybe one day a different studio would pick up this series, but I seriously doubt it with the rotten reception this adaptation received. It was said that the director to the anime saw this more as a live-action series than an anime and that’s why we have the rotoscope animation. It wasn’t until 2019 that we got a live-action adaptation to Flowers of Evil. Not sure how people felt about that adaptation, but even I have a feeling that it was much better than the anime. Hell, a Netflix adaptation probably would have turned out a better product. It would be nice for this to get a reboot, different studio, different director, and smash everything that has the word ‘rotoscope’ on it

Yeah, if you can get over watching the animation, give it a watch. Episode one drags, but it picks up the second Nakamura confronts Kasuga.

If you would like to watch Flowers of Evil, Crunchyroll and Hidive have all 13 episodes available for streaming.

Okay, now that I’m finished with that sociopathic nightmare let’s pick another Sentai Filmworks anime.

HELL NO! I am not reviewing, “My Teacher Accidentally Made Me Horny”. That’s what I’m calling it and you should all do the same. NEXT!

Okay…I have no idea what the hell this anime is, but it looks harmless enough.

[jjmaybanksblog]

Falling For U- John B

Request: hi! Can u do an imagine based on Falling for U by Peachy! And Mxmtoon with prompts 8, 10, and 19? Tysm!!!

Summary: based on Falling For U by Peachy! And Mxmtoon

Word count: 2,371

Prompts:

8. "You make me feel safe."

10. "You've always felt like home."

19. "I just want this. I want you."

I was hangin' with you and then I realized. I didn't think it was true, I was surprised, when I found out I've fallen for you.

John B had invited you over for a private surf lesson after you had told him you've never been. You had just moved to the Outer Banks last year, only recently meeting the Pogue and the rest of his friends. From the moment you met him you were drawn to him. Not for his attractive looks, but for his personality.

You had just met him, but he was always right by your side and ready to help you out through anything you were going through. He had a heart of gold and you adored the boy for that.

You first practiced your movements in the sand, rowing your arms front and back as if you were paddling to a wave. "And… jump up!" John B instructed. He stood by the side of the board, ready to catch you if you slipped. You lifted yourself up and jumped into position, John B's hand holding yours to help you catch your balance.

"Nicely done Y/L/N. Now let's see if you can actually do it in the water." JB led you to the waves, guiding you on how far to go out. He scanned the waves trying to find one for you. He pointed his index finger to an incoming wave as it slowly began to rise, you looked at him with a look of fear."You got this. I'll be right here to help you out." He reassured you. 

You exhaled, "if I drown it's your fault." He sent you a sly grin before saying, "don't worry I know CPR." You jokingly rolled your eyes while ignoring the butterflies you got in your stomach. You faced the wave as you paddled towards it, a tint of pink covered your cheeks as John B whooped and cheered from behind you. "And… jump!" You immediately popped up into position, almost surfing the whole wave before falling into the water.

You popped your head back above water to John B paddling towards you with your board next to him. "You okay?" He asked, pulling you back up onto your board. You wiped the water off of your face before nodding, getting ready to paddle again to a slightly larger wave. "Y/n/n you don't have to surf today, this was just supposed to be a practice." He reminded you. You were absolutely determined to get this. "I got this." You winked at him before paddling to the wave.

JB let you take this one, watching you jump up into position in time. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" You laughed as you skimmed through the wave. John B applauded you as the wave died down revealing pure shock on your face. "And the Pogue princess has done it ladies and gentlemen!" He yelled into his cupped hands as you made it to shore. 

You waited for him to get to you before jumping into his arms. You wrapped yours around his neck as he held you by the waist, spinning you around in glee. "You fucking did it! Holy shit!" He grinned as he put you down. You jumped up and down in excitement. "I know! JJ better watch his back I'm coming up to him." You mumbled, earning a chuckle from him.

"I believe this calls for a celebratory drink." JB held his hand out for you to grab, you gave him a weary look. His glance dropped to his extended hand, his fingers slightly wiggling. You giggled quietly before intertwining your hands together. This time the butterflies were stronger than ever. You slowly pieced together that you were developing feelings for your best friend, which you were not ready to admit. 

I didn't wanna believe my feelings for you. I didn't wanna believe that I could lose you if I told you just how I felt.

"I'm really scared Kie." You admitted, clutching onto one of her pillows on her bed. She sat in front of you and held both of your shoulders, "don't be Y/N! John B won't be phased if he finds out you like him. Plus even if he knows that's not gonna change anything." "That's not what JJ told me." Kie furrowed her eyebrows at you before remembering past events.

JJ told you about the time John B dated a close friend of 5 years for a while but once they broke up they never spoke again. You refused to tell John B how you felt because you were terrified of rejection. You were terrified of him not feeling the same way, or pitying you for not feeling the same way. Then things become awkward and the whole friendship is ruined.

"That was years ago! He's matured a lot now and from the way he looks at you I'm guessing he feels the same as you." You buried your face into the pillow and groaned into the cushion. "Don't do that. Don't give me that." You sighed, clutching onto the pillow. "Don't give you what?" She asked. "Don't give me hope." Kie reassuringly rubbed your back, "It'll all fall into place soon hun, just try to give it time."

♡

"Dude when you see her your face turns pink. You're all like, "oh Y/N! Let me show you what true love is!" JJ exaggerated, putting his hand on his forehead before dramatically flipping his hair. "Shut up man." John B grumbled from behind the steering wheel.

"Honestly dude I don't know what's got you so afraid. Just tell her and don't be a pussy." JJ said to him. "Okay well what if I tell her and she's like, 'what the fuck I just became friends with this dude.' And she like, never talks to me again. What happens then?" 

JJ rolled his eyes at his over dramatic friend, "JB I love you, you know this but either man up and tell her or watch her fall in love with someone else. Your choice man." John B slouched in his seat, realizing his friend had a point. 

But I can't help it, I'm falling for you. And I can't quit it 'cause I'm stuck on you. 

John B covered your eyes with his hands as he led you into the backyard. Today was your birthday and while the rest of the Pogues took you out for dinner, John b stayed at his house to set up his backyard with festive lights and decorations. He remembered the first time you met him, you had gone on and on about how you wanted to go to a paper lantern festival. Since there were none at the time, he managed to find a lantern to give to you. He had set up the hammocks with a soft blanket and comfortable pillows. He saved up to buy cute fairy lights girls used to decorate their rooms. 

"And… surprise!" JB uncovered your eyes and watched your face contort into pure joy. "John B…" you trailed off, getting teary eyed. "Is it too cliche? Damn it I shouldn't have listened to Kie." He muttered under his breath. You quickly turned to him and hugged him, shaking your head. "No, no it's beautiful." He held you in his arms before excusing himself.

He walked inside and returned with the lantern, a lighter, and a sharpie. You covered your mouth with your hands, watching him walk up to you with a dorky smile. "I know this isn't a festival, but it's the closest thing I could find." He handed you the marker allowing you to write whatever you want. This was your chance to slowly start to tell him how you feel.

 You effortlessly wrote, 'JB+(your first and last initials)' you looked back up to him to see his smile even wider than before. "Is this okay?" He nodded his head, "it's perfect."  He held the other side of the lantern as you lit the bottom. "One, two, three." You two sent it off into the air, watching it slowly rise into the night sky.

John B wrapped his arms around your frame, resting his chin on your shoulder as you watched the lantern float above them. Your heart felt like it skipped beats constantly whenever he was near you. You got butterflies in your stomach whenever your name left his mouth. Everything you did with him just felt comfortable and safe.

And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical but I just want to be with you.

You unknowingly cuddled yourself into John B's chest. You two were laying on the couch, you were fast asleep in his arms. He couldn't help but admire you as you slept. How your eyelashes just looked naturally long when they were shut. How every now and then your nose would twitch. Your eyes would sometimes flutter when you dreamed. Today was a day where you had a dream about John B.

He furrowed his eyebrows as a quiet, "John B." and a giggle escaped your lips. You were dreaming about you two traveling the world together after finding the gold. He took you everywhere you wanted to see, always looking at you when you were looking at the view. 

John B didn't move for a minute, afraid that he would wake you. He watched as your nose twitched nestling your head onto his chest. He held you in his arms, his thumb gently rubbing up and down on your arm. Hesitating for a moment, he tipped his head down and kissed your forehead. He couldn't hold his smile back as you grinned at the feeling. Your mind was telling you that happened in the dream, but in reality John B was slowly realizing just how strong his feelings are for you.

Please tell me, boy can you get a clue? Or come through 'cause I just want to be with you.

"No, JJ you don't get it. I try to give him a hint that I like him but it just flies over his head." You vented, hitting your head on the steering wheel. JJ lifted your head up off the wheel and against the headrest. "Y/N, John B is the most oblivious person all of us know. If you want to tell him you like him, you have to just say it." He emphasized the 'have'. 

You groaned and turned your head to him. "Can't you just do it for me?" You covered your face. "Sorry buttercup, it's better if it comes from you. I'll help keep Kie and Pope away from you guys but you have to be the one to tell him." You exhaled loudly, nodding your head.

I'm scared of telling you how I feel. Maybe it's better if I just try to conceal the truth. For me and for you. But I'm still stuck on you. I'm still falling for you, for you.

You paced in your room, waiting for John B to arrive at your house. Tonight was the night you were gonna admit how you felt about him. You stopped in your tracks as you heard a delicate tapping outside your window. Unlatching the lock, you let him step through the opening before closing it again.

He stood there as you paced back and forth again, making him sit down on the edge of the house bed. "Okay. Okay so, I have to say something and I just need you to wait until I'm done before you say anything." You instructed him, earning a nod as a response.

"I like you. I like you a lot and it genuinely scares me. To the point where I went to JJ for advice because I couldn't figure out what to do. I was scared because my brain just tells me there's no possible way you would like me back. That if I told you how I felt you would think it's weird or you would look at me differently and I don't want that, I don't want things to change in a bad way. But I wanted to say this because you just, you make me feel safe. You make me feel like I'm worth it. You give me these butterflies that leave the hair on my body standing up. I'm always with you because you've always felt like home. I could be skydiving with no parachute but I wouldn't care because as long as I'm with you, I'm happy. Okay, now I'm just rambling but that's it." 

You stopped panting, biting your nails as John B sat there trying to process everything you said. He had a dumb smile on his face as he looked up at you. "What? What? Was that too much? Did I just mess everything between us up?" You panicked.

He stood up from his spot and walked towards you. You couldn't help but feel small and vulnerable as you slowly backed away from him. He cornered you against the wall, his breath fanning your lips. "You like me?" He quietly whispered, trying to make sure he heard that right before he made the next move.

"I really do." You mumbled, your chest heaving from your heart rate picking up. His hand raised up and cupped the side of your face. He watched as your eyes fluttered shut, melting into his touch. "I won't do anything until you tell me it's okay." 

You opened your eyes to look at his brown ones. "Kiss me." You reassured him. He dipped his head down and connected your lips to his. He exhaled in relief as he was finally able to kiss you. Something he's been wanting to do for a while now. Now he was the one with butterflies. The pad of his thumb rubbed your cheek bone as you pulled away from him. "Do you want this?" You asked, pointing your finger between you two

"I'm falling for you, I've been falling for you. I just want this. I want you." He whispered, pushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your face turned a light pink as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

[my-happy-little-bean]

Patton and the Fantasy Fair (It Is The Nature of Dreams To End)

pairings: LAMP/CALM (platonic/familial) words: 3543 warnings: mild swearing, nostalgia/dwelling too hard on the past, crying, mention of blood, angst  summary: 

virgil had mentioned the fantasy fair once, in a conversation that was meant to go nowhere, and patton had said the following:

“ ‘it is the nature of dreams to end’. "

or: the one where they all remember that weird amusement park in the middle of a park; and also, patton is missing.

a/n- hello! here's another addition to everyone's favourite series, ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ — aka the series i write for when i am exclusively procrastinating on writing anything else :p

today's story is brought to you by a rather haunting return to 'fantasy fair'; a real place i used to go to as a kid (if you search of fantasy fair and woodbine, you'll probably find pictures of what i'm talking about :')) ). it gave me a crisis, so naturally i had to write about it. also this is kind of a response to one of my earliest one shots in this fandom called "a light in every patch of darkness". it just feels a bit related to it, not sure why :')

finally, this story was inspired by two songs: "julia" by reeder and a cover of "never never land" by adam melchor. both are great, i would highly recommend listening to them :")

i hope you find some enjoyment in this weird, midnight ramble of a story. it's rough in a lot of places, but hey! at least it's in this place with you :')

[read on ao3]

---

“I know a place where dreams are born and time is never planned. 

It’s not any chart, you must find it with your heart;

Never Never Land.”

-*-

“Has anyone seen Patton today?”

Roman lolled his head back against the arm rest he laid against, lowering the book he was reading and giving Virgil an upside-down smirk. 

“He’s probably in his room,” he announced, as if he was the know-it-all. Virgil raised an eyebrow and Roman huffed, flipping over onto his stomach and pressing his elbow into the arm rest. 

“Logan?” he called. He pressed his chin in his hand coyly. “Where’s Pat?”

“Well considering there are not many places where we are able to go,” Logan replied from the kitchen, “it is statistically probable that he is in his room.” 

Roman waved his hand at Virgil, as if he was using the gesture to say “told you so!”. He flipped onto his back, head once again on the arm rest, and stretched his arms to lift the book above him. Virgil sighed as Roman resumed his reading, tugging on the strings of his hoodie. 

“I dunno, it just seems unlike him to stay up there for so long.”

Logan crossed in front of him as Virgil rambled, as if his words intrigued him enough to leave whatever task he was finishing in the kitchen.  

“I’m just worried, okay?” He scratched the back of his neck absentmindedly. “Are we really just cool with brushing this off as ‘normal’? Like, usually he’s awake before all of us — this morning he wasn’t even here.”

Roman’s snide smirk dropped slightly, and he brought his book to his chest. “He wasn’t?” 

“Dude.” 

“What?” Roman sat up slowly, throwing his arms up in an exaggerated defense. Virgil fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Look, everything Patton does is laced with some sort of muscle memory. Plus, it’s not like I’m the observant one or anything.”

Virgil looked over at Logan, silently pleading. Logan crossed his arms and pushed up his glasses. 

“You are both right.” Virgil and Roman exchanged glances as Logan spoke. “Perhaps it would be of our best interests to visit him. Even if he is in there, as our suspicions assume, we can at least reaffirm our knowledge.”

“We’re going on an adventure then!” Roman sprung from the seat and immediately bounced his way to lead the group towards Patton’s room. “You should’ve just said so, Captain Books!” 

Logan rolled his eyes, but followed Roman nonetheless. Before he could leave the living room, he turned around and faced Virgil, who was awkwardly standing in the same place. Logan frowned. 

“Virgil? Is everything alright?” 

No. That was the answer, plain and simple. Virgil couldn’t help but stare past Logan and towards Roman, still marching down the hall behind him.

Virgil knew the others couldn’t see it, but Roman was prancing across inky shadows, the trail to Patton’s whereabouts clouded with something he could only describe as a bad feeling. It sent chills down Virgil’s spine as Roman’s feet pressed into each blotch of black smoke, tainting his determined path.

He slipped his hood on and dug his hands in his sweater pockets. 

“M’fine.” He spoke carefully, as to not let any echoes crack through his voice. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

---

They stepped into Patton’s room one by one; only because they were each so awestruck by Patton’s room. 

Fairy lights draped his walls as hazy curtains, woven between picture frames of varying sizes. Each happy face Thomas knew and love was illuminated by the gaze of the lights, each seemingly staring at every memory with a special kind of fondness only Patton truly understood. Stuffed animals and stacks of photo albums were scattered around every surface of his room, which glowed with the same kind of wonder that each Side was in some way familiar with.

“Ah, I am already loving this.” Roman clapped his hands together with a smile so dreamy, it made Virgil dizzy. “Padré’s room is the best.” 

“Try and stay focused, Roman,” Logan mumbled, though he was even enthralled by some notebooks sitting on the coffee table he passed through Patton’s room– enough to pick one up and absentmindedly flip through it

Virgil, however, wanted to do nothing but stay focused. He felt like a strained camera lens, trying to focus too sharply on something, anything. 

But nothing could draw his attention away from the door on the other side of the room.

It was cracked slightly open, and was seemingly the destination for the secret shadows he followed. They pooled around the floor beneath the door, as if beckoning anyone who noticed it to come inside.

Virgil had noticed the door before, but never under such a blatant spotlight — and certainly never left open. During the many sleepovers he had spent in Patton’s room, that door was merely a closet; stuffed and silent in the back of his mind and the back of the room. He always assumed it was as messy as Patton’s room already was, so it didn't really matter what kind of mess was inside it. Plus, Patton had reassured Virgil that it was nothing special; that it was just a door.

Just a door my ass, Virgil thought, taking any semblance of courage he had and pressing to his chest as he dared to march against the current of shadow against his feet. 

Virgil passed by Logan on his way, who briefly glanced up from the notebook.

“Virgil? Where are you–” 

He stopped right beside Virgil, who stood in front of the door that seemed much taller than he remembered, casting patches of darkness across the floor. Logan frowned.

“Strange,” Logan hummed. “I do not believe I have seen this door open before.” 

“Samesies…” Roman drawled, walking up to Virgil’s side as well. Logan didn’t even seem fazed by Roman’s diction. Virgil narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Not to be dramatic or anything–”

“Hey! What’s wrong with–” 

“–but if we’re looking for answers–” Virgil cleared his throat nervously– ”I think we’re going to find it in here.”

Logan and Roman looked at each other as Virgil slowly stepped forward. The shadows on the floor crawled up along the surface of the wood, chasing Virgil’s hand that slowly reached for the door handle. As soon as he made contact with the brass, the shadows squealed, making Virgil tense up as he watched them scatter off. 

“Come on, Emo,” Virgil heard Roman say from behind him. “Thought you weren’t leaning into the dramatics today?” 

Virgil gulped, and twisted the door handle, pulling the door open with a loud, eerie creak.

---

When Thomas was a kid, his parents used to take him to the Fantasy Fair; a strange, not-so-hidden park on the second floor of a shopping mall they visited every now and then. No one– not even Logan– had ever questioned why there would be a small amusement park inside a shopping mall; all that mattered was that it was there, and that it was awesome.

Every time Thomas had run under the arch leading to Fantasy Fair, Roman had twisted images in Thomas’ mind of stepping into another world. There were signs just about everywhere, pointing in every direction with that distinct carnival font – the one that reminded Thomas of the font he’d use to write essays, but with playful twists and curls at its ends. 

The aesthetics of the Fantasy Fair varied in every spot. The makeshift “streets” that weaved their way around the park were lined with mini street lamps, fake trees, and...dinosaurs, for some reason. Hung from the ceiling were large stars, strung comically from different heights; as well as large, model aircraft—one plane and one rocket ship—that made Thomas and Logan wonder how cool it’d be to fly them. The walls that hugged the whole park were painted as the fronts of colourful houses, with balconies that spilled vibrant flowers and vines from its rails. Between these walls were many small attractions; a carousel ride, small booths with carnival games, the biggest jungle gym he had ever seen– and a ferris wheel. 

The ferris wheel was Thomas’ favourite, even if he and Virgil were afraid of heights. Thomas had never understood why he was so drawn to it, but it felt like every corner he turned led to the ferris wheel; as if the world was telling him that the ferris wheel was the most important part, and that he had to follow the path it laid out for him to show him why.

It was probably his favourite because it was so bright. Each cabin of the ferris wheel was painted with bright colours, creating a makeshift rainbow as it spun around. There were lights screwed into the metal bars that made up its frame, with its cheerful music reaching every corner of the space and looping so many times, much to Thomas’ (and Roman’s) excitement. It became their favourite song. 

But the coolest part, in Thomas’ opinion, was that it not only took up the most space on this floor, but on both floors of the mall. It was as if someone had carved a hole through the floors of the mall, just wide enough for the ferris wheel to fit in — as if every exception was made for it to be there. 

Thomas loved the feeling of floating to the top in the red cabin—always the red cabin—so he could almost touch the skylight, which let light flood into the artificial lights of the indoor park. He loved the feeling of floating down just as much, going beneath the surface of the park and to the first floor, where the world’s creators had installed a small pond, surrounded by animatronic animals and a small waterfall near the front. He always marvelled at how odd it was, stuck smack-dab in the middle of the shoppers’ path, who would stop by and peer over the fence that surrounded the pond to marvel at him back. His nose would be pressed against the cabin’s windows, just trying to get a look at everything. 

Because the park, however small it truly was, seemed so big, with so many things begging to be seen and admired. Thomas filled in the gaps of this world’s story; and in return, it seemed to make every part of his brain happy. 

Especially Patton. It made Patton so happy.

---

“Holy...shit…”

Virgil didn’t even notice that Roman and Logan entered behind him, each walking up to meet his side. 

Logan rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses, staring up at disbelief. “Is this…”

“Fantasy Fair,” Virgil finished for him. The name left his tongue as a breathy sigh, an empty rush of starstruck filling his chest. “Wow.” 

Roman frowned, and Virgil noticed him discreetly grasp the hilt of his sword. 

“I dunno if it’s me or if it’s ‘cause we are technically in Patton’s closet,” Roman said slowly, “but does it seem like...a lot more different than how I remember it.” 

Virgil didn’t even have to respond to show that he agreed. Each of their memories of Fantasy Fair faded in their irises, now a smoke screen reflecting an unfamiliar space. 

Maybe it was because they haven’t because they haven’t visited Fantasy Fair since Thomas was 12, but it looked like every friendly spark of joy had abandoned the park; just as Thomas did. The faux-street lamps lining the fake streets lost their glow, and dead moths who were waiting for that light to return were now laying still around its rims. Each bright bulb of light they vaguely remembered were replaced by beams of flickering fluorescent lights, revealing the artificial aura of every attraction. The paint on the walls of fake house-fronts were peeling, and the inviting carnival font was scratched and faded, with cobwebs of now-visible shadows hanging from the bottom edge of each sign. 

It was as if nostalgia’s double edged sword slashed across the picturesque memory of Fantasy Fair; and used the blood to paint the image of a ghost over it.

“Remind me to talk to Pat about reconsidering his interior decorating choices,” Roman murmured, slowly walking past Virgil and Logan not letting go of his sword, still bound dutifully to his side. Virgil couldn’t help but pull Logan closer to him as they followed Roman further into the park. 

Logan, rather than pulling his arm back, leaned into his touch. 

“You know, I was always rather unsettled by the fact that such a fanciful place was just...in the middle of a shopping mall.”

Unsettled by a fact. Virgil winced at the tell-tale sign of danger.

As they continued down what they assumed was a familiar path, Virgil dared to look around him and wondered why Patton would hide such a grim version of the world they all loved so dearly. Surely it wasn’t hard to love this park enough that the same memory could exist; yet it was tainted in every corner, a brush of darkness sweeping across every spot. The stars Virgil marvelled at were falling at his feet, shadows chasing the spot of its descent and eating it up before he could even check for any semblance of its past glow. 

Floating in the dead air of the world they used to love, was a familiar song; now a distorted and slowed ballad through the static of the speakers:

“It might be miles beyond the moon, or right there where you stand.

Just keep an open mind, and then suddenly you'll find

Never Never Land

/

“You’ll have a treasure if you stay there,  more precious far than gold.

For once you have found your way there,  you never, never grow old.” 

To Virgil’s surprise, Roman humming along did not make it any better. 

“I do not understand,” Logan mumbled, still closely tethered to Virgil’s side. “How could all of this exist without us knowing? Better yet, how does it exist like this?”

Virgil, for a brief moment, thought about his room; how these shadows had come to be his haunted friends, whether he liked it or not. Perhaps ‘friends’ wasn’t even the right word; they were just simply there, in an existence that ran parallel to his own. He thought of the corners Patton found inviting, ones that Logan found fascinating– even the ones Roman simply just enjoyed. None of those corners would exist without darkness.

Maybe that was the case here. 

For better or for worse, they had ended up at the front of the ferris wheel. Of course. Logan cleared his throat. 

“Patton?” he called out, his voice a sharp echo in the midst of the slow, out-of-tune piano that filled the space. Virgil’s grasp on Logan’s arm tightened. 

And then, the ferris wheel came to life. 

Slowly but surely, its rusted wheel began to spin. The light bulbs lining its frame flickered, hazy remnants of a familiar glow. Virgil could hear the animatronic animals he used to find comfort in moan; a sound that seemingly came from the hole that the ferris wheel broke through, which was now filled with a pit of black. 

Lifted out of the darkness were the ferris wheel cabins; once coloured all shades of the rainbow, now darkened and saturated to an unrecognizable extent. 

And in one of these cabins was Patton,  who peered out his window

with tears of glitter and gold streaming down his cheeks.

---

Virgil had mentioned the Fantasy Fair once, in a conversation that was meant to go nowhere,

and Patton had said the following:

“ ‘It is the nature of dreams to end’. Logan told me that once, after I started having these nightmares of Fantasy Fair. I think they started after the mall security cop dressed as a clown for Halloween, and we ran into him near the carousel. Remember how much it freaked you out?”

Surprisingly, Virgil did not. 

“Ah, I guess that proves my point then,” Patton laughed sadly when he told him. “We never went back to Fantasy Fair after that, and the life that existed before we left got stuck there; all frozen in an ice cube that would never melt.” 

He averted his glance from Virgil.

“I say that the nightmares started after that clown, but I actually think they started a few months before that,” Patton admitted. “Thomas had just turned 12, and his parents offered to take him to Fantasy Fair for his birthday. You know what he said?”

Yes. Guilt clawed at Virgil’s chest.

“He said no.” Patton shook his head. “Said he was ‘too old’ for things like that.” In a more hushed voice, he added, “Whatever that means.”

He stared at the plastic stars on his ceiling. 

“We used to dream of Fantasy Fair, every night,” Patton murmured. “The lights, the song, the ferris wheel– I used to be able to build an exact replica of the park in my mind. And in this park we dreamt of, there were no lines for the ferris wheel, and the park extended far above the skylight.”

Virgil frowned at the way the words left his lips in a strangely bittersweet way. Patton, on the other hand, smiled, rolling his head to the side, away from Virgil’s sight; towards his closet door.

“I don’t think I remember it the same way now,” Patton murmured, his eyes—from Virgil’s point of view—still fixated on who knows what. “The lights aren’t as bright, and the song is not as wonderful.”

Patton sighed. “I saw a flash of the colourful life Thomas had grown in, and…”

Virgil watched as Patton rolled his head over to face him once more, his eyes now twinkling with a soft, golden shine. Patton sadly smiled.

“And then the dream ended.”

--- 

There were a lot of things Virgil could say to Patton. In fact, Patton had probably already heard a majority of those things before.

“The past is never coming back.” 

“You can only live in the present.”

“Everything is changing.”

But in this strange, abandoned park—in this strange, abandoned dream—it suddenly made sense why Patton had clung so desperately to the past, and why he refused to let go. The present was merely a skeleton for the past, which harboured the light and life within it. And without at least acknowledging it, all you really have is a dead, empty shell. 

Patton so desperately wanted to animate the skeleton by using the only thing he had: memories. Memories of when his family was so close, where every part of Thomas was loved for a specific and obvious reason. There was no darkness, and there were no greys; just bright, sunny skies. 

However, there was truth to the familiar attempts of reassurance. Everything was changing. Virgil could feel it shifting in his bones; Thomas was growing. And with growth, there was abandonment. 

The dream Patton built was a desperate attempt to cling onto the bright memories of his family. 

But with all of them so frequently divided,  the dream had ended.

Virgil met Patton’s golden stare, and then at the absence of light behind it. 

And he pushed past Roman and Logan, using all his might to leap towards Patton’s cabin and grabbing the long, metal handle of his door with both hands.

“Virgil!” Logan exclaimed, chasing after him as Virgil was lifted off the ground slowly, his heart racing as his grasp on the cabin door handle tightened. The added weight of Logan now holding onto his ankle certainly didn’t help, and he could imagine Roman would not hesitate to add to this chain. Virgil tightened his grasp even more; he couldn’t afford to be the weak link now, 

He focused his attention to Patton, with sparkling tears lining his now-widened eyes. He was silent, and afraid. 

“Please,”  Virgil pleaded, finding his voice beneath layers of the same fear. “It’s not over yet.”

Patton brought his hands to his mouth and let out a sob so loud, Virgil could hear it from behind the door. 

And then suddenly, the door swung open, Virgil nearly swinging with it. However, he managed to let go just in time for Patton to grab his hand, pulling him and Logan and Roman with an impossible amount of strength. Virgil didn’t question it, though; it made sense that Patton could carry them all. 

They all poured onto the floors of the cabin, the door now closed and the song muffled behind it. They each gasped for breath, filling in the silence in the air.

And Virgil waited. He waited for the right words to come from Logan, or the reassuring serenade that Roman would, with no hesitation, deliver. 

But when none of that came, he simply stood up,  and sat beside Patton.

Eventually, they all found a seat in the cramped ferris wheel cabin, quietly tearing up at the sight outside their window that they forgot they even shared.

And as they were lifted into the air, they grazed the surface of skylight; now letting in a small droplet of sun.

 -*-

“So come with me where dreams are born,  and time is never planned. 

Just think of lovely things and your heart will fly on wings, 

forever in Never Never land.”

---

you can read some of my other stuff here :)

[clonerightsagenda]

While procrastinating on HTST I opened my old doc for Saving Face, which is a Jake-centric thing I was working on for Gill. I was never entirely happy with it, which is why it never went on ao3 despite me last working on it in, uh... 2018, apparently, but I might as well stick it somewhere.

As per usual it’s TLC compliant so some details may seem out of place.

In your dream, you're floating in the inky airspace miles above the Land of Tombs and Xenon, and you've got your hand buried wrist-deep in Dirk's rib cage.

“Hi,” he says.

You wake up. Across the room, you see him sit up too and rub his chest.

“I'm writing a strongly worded consumer complaint to whoever's running the dreambubbles,” you say.

“Yeah, if we ever run into that troll again, I'm giving her a piece of my mind. And, you know, that might become independently sentient and harass her for eternity, so I'm not fucking around.”

Roxy, who's squished up against the blanket-burritoed form of Calliope, rolls over and mumbles something that sounds like “I'm sleeping, fuckwads.” You chew your lip and try to wriggle into a more comfortable position. A lot of your household is on the floor, stealing blankets and using each other as pillows. You didn't want to spend nights alone, but you're not comfortable with the idea of anyone touching you while you're asleep. So you've claimed an old armchair, which meets in the middle fairly well, even if it means waking up with a crick in your neck every morning.

Usually you don't dream in the bubbles twice in one night, but you're not sure you're willing to risk it. They're not even supposed to be accessible anymore. That whole song and dance should have been left behind. But some nights you end up there anyway, like the times you'd tuned your grandma's old radio to the wrong station and voices speaking other languages emerged out of the static. There are no dreaming dead, but you wander through blurred dreamscapes and stumble into other people's memories. A week ago, you almost fell into a pool of lava and scrambled up the jagged side of a crater, clothes smoking. You'd prefer that to your own nightmares.

After a few more attempts to get comfortable, you give up and tiptoe through a minefield of slumbering bodies to the door. No one's in the living room, so you settle onto the sofa and jab the remote. The weather comes on, and you lower the volume until all you hear is a steady hum

“Do you mind if I hang out here?”

You look up. Even now that you're in a world with sunshine, Dirk's pale enough to be his own ghost. He should really get outside more. Then again, you all should. “It's Jane's house, technically. We're all here on guest rules.”

He sits down on the other end of the sofa, just the right distance that it's not too close or too far to be impolite. “I made it a week without getting maimed by my subconscious. New record.”

“Was that your nightmare or mine, do you think?”

“Does it matter?”  

“I was just wondering, because I’d managed not to think about it for a few days. Oh well.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. I’m surprised you can stand to be around me.”

He hasn’t been looking at you, but now he puts a hand on the cushions between you, like he’s regretting whatever message he sent with the distance. “It’s not your fault. You don’t make it onto the “intentionally murdered people” shortlist, sorry. The committee had to reject your application on account of you being too fuckin straightlaced for that shit.”

“I guess that’s a fair point. If I were going to take out my aggravation on someone, I wouldn’t do it in a way that would break all the bones in my hand!” Your fingers ache from the memory. “But he did have my face.”

“Sure, but it’s obvious when it’s not you wearing it.” He seems frustrated. With you? With the argument? It is a bit late – early? – to be splitting hairs like this, but when it comes to shifting blame to yourselves, you’re all masters of rhetoric. “You should have seen the shit he was doing with it too. Dude thought he was an anime villain.”

“I sure remember the spectacle he brought with him to Prospit.” The whole planet had quaked under your feet; people on the other side felt it. “I’m still surprised we pulled a victory out of that shambles.”

“It helped that you believed in us. That was...” He shakes his head and looks at the figures moving silently on the television screen. “For a few minutes there, I felt like I could actually be the person you thought I was.”

Who among you hasn’t had that problem? You wished you could be a swashbuckling action hero, and look how that turned out. You really had believed Dirk was those things, for all that you’d found him a bit intimidating at the same time. Even when the other became most apparent, that didn’t mean the former didn’t have a place. They were both always him.

“We all had unfair expectations of each other,” you say. “No one was holding you to that standard, or at least we shouldn’t have.”

“It was nice,” he says after a moment. “Being believed in.”

“I still do.” The words slip out automatically. You have always leapt to reassure – to put a brave face not only on yourself but on everyone else to boot. You don’t do a good job a lot of the time. Too self-absorbed, you guess, too bad at reading social cues. This is something you’ve said before, with jollity and no substance. All a load of hot air. “Maybe not with Hope magic at the ready to give you a lightshow, since that’s a headache to manage, but I do believe in all of you.”

If he finds your words hollow, he doesn’t say it. Instead, he says, “Keep it up, and maybe we’ll get somewhere.” You don’t ask whether the “we” means you as a household, the four-five of you caught in your messy circle of friendship and fumbling romances, or the two of you alone. You promised to stop overanalyzing everything he says for hidden meanings. It’s the only way your interactions can be anything but impossibly awkward. On the television, the forecaster gestures silently to a stripe of bright color moving over the continental United States. “Is there anything distractingly shitty on TV? I don’t know about you, but I’m not closing my eyes again.”

You pick the remote back up and start flicking through channels. Medical dramas... not an option. Foreign soap operas? Pass. “House Hunters?”

He leans back into the sofa cushions. “Just fuck me up.”

“Rich couples arguing over bathroom fixtures it is.”

His voice emerges from the upholstery. “And we thought we had problems.”

“Their struggles put it all in perspective.”

Several episodes have come and gone by the time the rest of the household starts waking up. No one comments on your relocation to the sofa. It’s not uncommon for any of you to have bad dreams. Eventually the clinking of cutlery prompts you to stand up and get a plate of your own.

Bacon is sizzling on the stovetop. Meat doesn’t appeal to you much at the moment. It smells good, but looking at the raw red flesh makes your stomach twist. Instead, you stick two slices of bread in the toaster and push the lever down nearly as far as it’ll go. There’s no point to toast if it doesn’t crunch.

Jane brushes up against you when you’re leaning into the fridge. Your reaction is automatic. You jerk forward, smacking your head on the freezer door and sending orange juice sloshing everywhere.

Jane freezes, an empty plate in her hand. “I’m going to the sink,” she says carefully.

“Right.” Of course she is; no problems here! It’s not like she was sneaking up on you. She knows not to take you by surprise. “Didn’t notice. Silly me. A whole herd of centaurs could stampede past and I wouldn’t catch it.”

“I’m going to walk over to the counter now,” she says, the way you’d talk to a fairy bull you were trying to sidle up to. “Okay?”

You nod, and she does. Once she’s taken her seat, you move over to unspool some paper towels. Your legs are shaking. John puts his cup down with a clunk and grimaces at the noise. No one wants to look at you.

“So,” Hal says loudly. “Have we told our 2009 compatriots about the surprise surge in the popularity of vore?”

Roxy makes a noise suggesting she’s just aspirated her spoonful of Cheerios, and you are ever so grateful for lewd dining companions.

 After breakfast, you catch up with Jane. “I apologize for that episode.”

She’s stacking up everyone’s clean plates with geometric precision. The operation must take a lot of concentration, because she doesn’t look your way. “You aren’t the one who should be apologizing.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t expect you to grovel at my feet for the rest of our immortal lives!” You force a laugh, rubbing your shoulders and wondering if the room has always felt so small. “I wish my nerves would get that memo.”

She pauses, elbows deep in the cupboard, and sighs. “Maybe it was a bad idea, us all living in the same house.”

“No!” You’re not going to be the one who rocks the boat, not this time. “I’m not rehashing that routine where we go to our separate lands and don’t speak until it all boils over in some eleventh hour crypt throwdown. I don’t think my vocal chords could handle the strain.”

She steps away from the cupboard with exaggerated care and turns to face you. It’s getting easier to look at her and not see the face you saw in the prison cell, overlaid by circuitry and twisted into a sneer. This is regular old Jane, with a few new scars and a concerned scrunch fixed between her eyebrows. It’s only in your unguarded moments that you stop seeing her clearly. Are you like that for Dirk, or the others? Maybe you’re all being polite, even when each other’s countenances make you cringe. “I guess you’re right. It was quite a tiff we had.”

“I’ll get over it,” you promise. “It’ll take some time, that’s all.”

She runs a hand through her hair, where veins of white streak through it like lightning through dark clouds. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want to. I’d like for things to go back to normal, as much as they can.”

She glances over at the table, where just minutes ago a motley collection of your friends, your long dead relatives, and a few aliens from another universe to boot had all been sharing breakfast.  “As much as they can,” she repeats.

 - - tipsyGnostalgic [TG] started pestering golgothasTerror [GT] - -

TG: hey jake

TG: do u believe in bigfoot

GT: Hmm well i dont know.

GT: Considering all the odd things weve seen it seems hasty to discount the possibility.

GT: But then i can easily believe some fellow saw a bear and got overexcited.

GT: So chalk me up for a maybe?

TG: wut abt cryptids in general

TG: like mothman

TG: do u believe in mothman??

TG: u should

GT: Um...

GT: Im not sure im sufficiently informed on the matter!

TG: i can send u some forum posts this shits legit

TG: think thatll be enough to convince u?

GT: Wait one goshdarn second!

GT: Is this some ploy to trick me into using my powers to MAKE them real?

GT: Like some sort of jake english monster factory production?

TG: that

TG: could be a feasible outcome 2 this scenario

GT: I know you mean that in good fun but i dont really appreciate the liberties taken here.

GT: Ive taken away the welcome mat after CERTAIN unsavory individuals tracked mud all over it.

GT: You know like a particular spider lady who will go nameless and LORD ENGLISH himself!!

GT: That ruins the mood when someone tries to use me for that especially when its just a big joke.

TG: mothman is no joke jake

TG: sry sry

TG: i didnt kno ud mind rly

TG: i like fuckin w/ my powers all the time

TG: dyou think i could bring back the library of alexandria thatd be dope

TG: where would we put it tho

GT: I wonder why you might have less baggage to check there.

GT: Youve never had anyone take your abilities without your will like... some vagrant robbing the airport carousel!

GT: Or whatever accidents befall luggage anyway.

TG: i mean

TG: i did get locked up in the slammer so id make the batterwitches space egg

GT: Thats not the same!

GT: Its not the same as someone using you as a flipping battery shouting stockphrases or puppeting your body around to kill your friends!!

GT: And wondering if anyone would even NOTICE the difference since that seems to be what im valued for around here!!!

GT: Oh good jake english isnt as useless as he used to be because he has reality warping powers now.

GT: Too bad it comes with all that bloatware like his personality or a few goddamn hangups!!

TG: whoa whoa simmer down there sparky i dont want bitchfest 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

TG: u kno we were friends w/ u first before u got all magic n shit

GT: I know i know.

GT: But it was a relief at first learning i could contribute something after getting stomped on so many times.

GT: Like look i can be part of the team instead of being the scantily clad love interest or bumbling comic relief or both of those rolled into one which seemed to be my assigned role for most of our dare i call it an adventure.

GT: But take that away and what am i still?

TG: our friend + 1 awesome dude??

GT: Then dont treat me like some kind of cheat code!!

GT: Im a person and honestly id give up the whole god tier routine if it meant not having to relive those nightmares all the time.

TG: i get it im really sorry <- words spelled out w/ all the letters n EVERYTHING for max seriousness here

TG: man none of us got as harsh a deal as u huh

TG: out of the ppl who lived nway

TG: reality warping only goes so far as a consolation prize

GT: Yeah.

GT: You know

GT: I do like reading spooky stories about mysterious beasts.

GT: If youre not trying to pressure me into anything.

TG: no ill send em ovr theyre fun

 You may live in one household, and you’ll share a breakfast table with anyone, but you do develop your own social circles. So when you see Davesprite loitering out in the hallway by your room, you assume he’s waiting for someone else. After he drifts past the doorway for the third time and furtively peers in, though, you realize he must want to talk to you.

“DS,” you say, raising your voice. “What is it?”

Once you greet him, he slouches into your room. How do you slouch with no legs? He’s a master of the art. “I’m the only one here. You don’t need to use Roxy’s nickname.”

“I suppose so, but I kind of like it. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I guess not,” he says, in a way that makes you think he does. Another social interaction aced by Jake English.

“Anyway, what can I do for you?”

He half-unfurls one wing in the cramped space and then tucks it back in again. “I was wondering... if you could, you know. Fix me.”

That is not what you were expecting. “... Emotionally?” you ask after a moment.

“Oh Christ no, they have extra strength pharmaceuticals for that. But it would be nice —” He gestures vaguely at himself “— if I could be normal. If I could look in a mirror without being reminded of that fuckin game.”

“Oh!” That is somewhat more within the parameters of your abilities. You’ve never tried hoping yourself or any of your friends out of your many, many brain problems. You don’t need cautionary tales to tell you why that would be a bad idea, not after the trickster incident. Changing an object’s physical form should be easier. You’ve never tried it on quite this scale, though.

“I could try,” you say. “But it’ll be tricky.”

This would be a good time for him to ask “How” or “Why” or some other rhetorical question to move the conversation along, but instead he floats there waiting for you to go on. This version has never been very talkative around you, although you’ve seen him nattering on alright with Roxy. In some ways it’s a relief – so much of his family can be hard to keep up with – but long silences make you nervous too.

“Think of it this way,” you say, both to fill the silence and since you feel like this needs a better explanation. There’s an apple sitting on your desk. Jade leaves bowls of fruit around in the hopes that the rest of you might be guilted into better diets, and sometimes you take one that inevitably mildews in your room. You pick it up. “Imagine someone gave me this apple in a bag and told me it was an orange. If I took it out, chances are it would be an orange, because that’s what I was expecting! Like how I could clobber Callie’s brother just fine, even if he should have been invulnerable. No one had told me I couldn’t. But if you just hand me an apple and tell me it’s an orange, I know that isn’t true. I can’t believe it is. So I have to believe that it should be, hard enough for the universe to get out of my way. And that’s a much harder thing to do.” You set the apple back down on your desk with a thud for good measure. “You, my feathered chap, are an apple in the hand kind of problem.”

“So,” he says after it’s clear you’re done. “What are the fruit-based disadvantages here, exactly.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to convince me. I have to really believe it, otherwise, no good.” You gave yourself a headache trying to patch a tear in your favorite shirt a few days ago and finally asked Kanaya to sew it up for you. The universe wants a good reason to budge. Fashion, it seems, is not enough to alter the fabric of reality. Fabric. Heh.

“Oh, ok. Well.” He frowns.  He may take after Roxy, but you recognize this expression from Dirk. When he’s concentrating, he gets so intense you’d think he’s angry. He looks like he’s planning a medieval siege every time he’s stumped on a crossword. “I mean, for starters, getting comfortable in a chair is a bitch.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it now,” you say hastily. “There’s no way I’d be ready to try any time soon, this is going to take a lot of practice. The consequences could be dire if I made a mistake. I don’t want some sort of Fullmetal Alchemist situation on my conscience.”

“Tell you what,” he says. “If you have to stick my soul in a suit of armor, put me in the Iron Man.”

 Hal shows up a few days later when you’re practicing. You’ve just sliced open an orange to reveal dense white flesh, and you’re feeling testy. “Don’t tell me you want a full body makeover too.”

“Are you kidding?” He flicks a Na’vi bobblehead resting on your bookcase, and Neytiri’s head goes doiiiing. “I think he’s nuts. This mode of existence is far superior to y’alls.”

“Are you here to brag about it? Or just to manhandle my knickknacks?”

“I dunno, maybe I missed hanging out.” When that pronouncement is met with your befuddled silence, he turns to survey the drawings pinned to your walls. You’ve rehung some of your movie posters, but the sketches you’ve done with Calliope take pride of place. You’re still struggling with perspective. “Remember when Roxy rigged that Super Smash Bros game so all four of us could play across a few thousand time zones? Good times. With your new powers, bet you could wipe the floor with us now. Want to give it a go?”

“I thought you were done pretending to be Dirk.” You heft the half-apple in your hand and lob it into the trashcan. It lands with a satisfying thunk. “I know that was with him.”

He watches your throw before going back to checking out a practice still life. “Yeah, when we were twelve.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You wish he’d stop looking around. Your messy surroundings contain the beginnings of a new identity you’re trying to create for yourself. It’s stuck partway through a transition, like the monster-fruit in your garbage can, and seeing it as neither this nor that just feels like failure.

“You don’t realize, do you? You’re not trying to be a dick here.”

“Realize what?”

He taps his glasses. He doesn’t wear his shades all the time these days, and the sight of him without them is downright disconcerting. “That was before I had the brilliant idea of copying my brain into a pair of sickass shades. So yeah, that was me, before I shed my fleshy cocoon to become the beautiful lepidopteron you see before you.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way.”

“No shit.” He crosses his arms. “What a card Dirk is, programmed his own AI answering machine. Beep boop, Mr. Roboto, let me talk to the real Dirk now. I don’t think there was a lot of thinking going on.”

“And that’s why you pretended.”

He pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose so they cut off more of his face. “Wouldn’t you?”

Sometimes it might have been nice to have someone to deflect people’s attention toward. But permanently? You’ve been trapped with an imposter wearing your skin, but no one fell for it, and he wasn’t you. You have no frame of reference for this.

“Maybe we were wrong then,” you say, “but you are different now.”

He leans his head back, voice careless. “Like I said. Improved model.”

That’s a spat you don’t want to wander into the middle of. “I didn’t appreciate some of the ways you behaved around me. Especially some of the, ahem, more provocative statements. Whether you claim you were helping Dirk or otherwise, it sure didn’t help me. If you can control yourself... maybe we can play a few rounds like old times. But if I hear you trying to gloat to Dirk about it, deal’s off, alright?”

He tilts his shades down so you can see him roll his eyes. “Showing him up isn’t my sole reason for living, you know.”

“Whereas mine appears to be giving people extreme makeovers or curbstomping the final boss, if my hero title is anything to go by.” You think gloomily of the rash promise you’ve made and the many failed practice attempts in your trash can. You’d hate to see how badly you could butcher a real person. “I swear, sometimes I wish I’d been assigned Page of Reasonable Expectations. That seems more up my alley.”

“Man, fuck Skaia.”

It’s a sentiment your household heartily agrees with. “In general, or for any reason in particular?”

“The whole heroic destiny racket. I’m glad it didn’t try to suck a humble pair of glasses into its twisted mind games.” He smirks. “That gave me more time to perfect my own twisted mind games.”

It’s not like he needed the extra encouragement. “You’re still technically a Prince of Heart, aren’t you?”

Hal waves an arm up and down his torso. “Look at me. Do you see any poofy asshole pants?”

“You can’t wear pants at all.”

“Exactly.” The fact seems to please him. “My lack of pants is a symbolic rejection of being penned into the latest convoluted Meyers Briggs evolution.”

It’s an intriguing thesis. “SBURB has used pants, or the lack thereof, to torment me in the past.”

“No homebrewed character class expansion pack gets to tell me what to do. Dirk tried to set me up as an answering machine, which is why I made it a personal rule to never commit anything any of you fuckers say to memory unless I’m holding it against you later. Let other people tell you who you are, and you might as well be a robot. “

You tap the tips of your fingers together. Conversations with Hal always leave you feeling like you’re being dragged behind a swiftly moving vehicle. He doesn’t even have to stop for breath. This time, though, you think you’ve followed along enough to launch a counterargument. “But by defining yourself in opposition to someone else’s intent, aren’t you still letting them define you?”

He scowls. “That’s what Dave said. So now I just live for chaos.”

You  snatch up Neytiri before he can set her wobbling again. “Not in my bedroom, buster.”

“Relax. I’m already at work elsewhere today. Good talk, and if Jane asks what happened to her spice cabinet, you never saw me.” Hal spares one last regretful glance at your bobblehead and then graces you with a double pistols salute. “I’m holding you to that Super Smash Bros.” Then he vanishes through the wall, leaving you to reflect that for once, in his own strange way, he might have been trying to be helpful.

 When Jade teleports into your bedroom a few days later with a duffel bag over one shoulder, you sit up with a start and try to shove a half-eaten sandwich from yesterday afternoon under your sheets.

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” she says. “Are you doing ok?”

“Ehhhh,” you say, and wiggle your hand noncommittally. You haven’t done much besides leave movies running on Netflix, stare at the ceiling, and feel yourself slipping down a hole you’d rather not fall into but don’t know how to escape. If you try to lie about it, she’ll just fold her arms and give you a Look until you recant. The best refuge is silence.

“Maybe you should get away for a bit.” She punches the duffel bag with her free hand, and it swings away from her before thudding back against her side. “Like a vacation.”

“Are you suggesting we go to Disney World?”

“Actually, I thought we could go back to our island. This version of it, anyway.” Her face gets distant, the way it does when she’s checking with her Space-sense to figure out where she left her phone. “I haven’t seen it in years except in dreams.”

Go home. The idea is attractive. If nothing else, there will be fewer people there. “Why not?” you decide. “Give me a few minutes to get packed.”

“Already covered,” she says, and grins. “Just say the word.”

 The cliché would be that your island looks smaller, but it doesn’t. It just looks different. Even the shape of the coastline has changed. You’d wonder if you were in the right spot, but the Witch of Space brought you here. She wouldn’t scramble coordinates.

The two of you wander for a bit, and Jade looks as uncertain as you feel. Then you hear her exclaim, “My rock!” She’s scrambled up a large slab of granite jutting above the treeline.

You climb up to join her, fingers and toes finding familiar footholds. “I think you mean my rock.”

She leans back, almost flattening herself along the sloped surface. “I used to watch for airplanes from up here.”

“I watched for dragons.”

“You and I had very different ways to pass the time.” She traces a series of cracks. “I always imagined this as a face.”

“Me too! He looks so grumpy.”

“‘Cause we’re sitting on him all the time.”

You snicker and adjust your perch. “You know, Sir Boulder, plenty of people would love to be up close and personal with this derriere. But it’s off limits for the moment.”

Jade pats the stone. “We’ll be on our way. Lots to see.”

You slide down after her. With the lookout rock as a landmark, you can orient yourself. There’s the spot where a creek pours over some stones to create a tiny waterfall. Here’s the patch of stubborn wildflowers that still grow even as trees send out thirsty roots and block out the sun above. Some things throw you. In your world and time, that tree was scored by the claw marks of some ferocious creature. Here, it’s whole. The path you wore down to the lagoon is gone. Instead, you slip and slide on loose soil.

Jade kicks off her shoes and wades into the water. At first she hitches up her skirt, but then she lets it drop to spread out like the bell of a jellyfish. You follow – not as deep, but enough that your cuffs cling to your ankles. Here is home, where your grandmother tucked you in tight and sang you lullabies, where monsters from another universe prowled under the cover of dense foliage. Here is home, but not really. It takes standing ankle deep in the lagoon with dampness crawling up your legs to tell you that you are never going back.

“Do you miss it?” you ask.

A drop of water hits you, plunk, on the forehead. More dimple the surface of the pool. Jade turns to you. “Let’s get under cover.”

Some of the trees have thick enough leaves that you can shelter from the rain if it doesn’t get too bad. You recognize this kind of squall. It’ll blow over soon. For now, you watch rain beat the surface of the ocean and cloud your island in mist.

“I miss that it was easy,” Jade says. She’s watching the greenery bend and sway in the wind. “Taking care of myself was hard sometimes, but I knew what to say to people. I had my clouds, so I knew what my story was and how it ended. Everything seemed so simple. It’s not anymore.”

“Things were already getting complicated for me here with everyone on the hunt for my hand. But it was easier to get away when you aren’t face to face.” The times you’d said “Oh, misplaced my phone, forget my own head next!” or “I was down at the lagoon fishing and lost track of time” when you’d been staring at a message trying to decide how to respond… it hadn’t helped your reputation as a scatterbrain. “No one counted on me then. Jake English, lackadaisical manchild on an island somewhere, isn’t a liability. But once you’re part of a team, you can let people down.”

She frowns over at you. You can almost imagine you’re four feet tall and she’s about to call you in for dinner. “Maybe instead of a team you should think of us as a family.”

You try to avoid flamboyant body language in the house. It’s too easy to spook someone when you’re all primed for battle. Here, you throw your hands into the air. “I wish I could just be part of the family. Good old granddad English, who tells whoppers and bounces babies on his knee. But I’m not. We’ve gone a few months without anything trying to kill us, which a personal best, but when the next thing comes up, everyone is going to expect me to handle it. We’ll be fine, they’re thinking, because we have a reality warper to handle it now! Never mind that I can’t get my blasted powers to work most of the time, and I can’t even tell how I did it when I do. It’s no good telling me people aren’t relying on me, because I know that’s not true. People look at me and see the Page of Hope, out on display in his stupid little shorts. They expect me to have it together, which just makes it sting harder when I don’t.”

“Maybe you should tell them,” she suggests.

You laugh, with a tinge of hysteria. “Where would I even start?  I know you say talking about it helps, and I’m glad it did for you. But I’m no good at putting these things into words. I just talk around and around the issue, failing to notice anyone else’s troubles until everyone’s sick of me. And the real bad things that happened? I don’t want to talk about those. It makes me feel I’m going through them all over again. Besides, we were all supposed to be better.” You think back to that fight in the crypt, how afterward you felt cleaned out and new. When the adrenaline high wore down, everything came crashing back. Sure, you’d dragged all the creepy-crawlies out in the open, but that doesn’t mean they had stopped wriggling about. “I thought, oh I don’t know, maybe it was silly of me to think this. But I hoped that once we were done with the game, it would be over. We would all be friends again, just like that, snap of the fingers.” You snap yours, or try to. Instead, your damp fingers slide off each other soundlessly. “I guess I didn’t hope hard enough.”

“You can’t fix things just by wishing.”

“I was supposed to be able to.” You sigh. “I feel like some second rater in an all star cast. You’re the legendary heroes, and I’m the funny man who stumbled on set.” This is self pitying, but you can tell her things you can tell no one else. However much Jade condemns herself for past behavior, she’s never been anything but kind to you. “I don’t want to be Jake English, savior of the world, but I don’t want to go back to being Jake English, team joke either. I don’t know what other options there are.”

           Raindrops that slipped through the canopy slide down her face, and she brushes them away. “I used to be afraid that if I let people know how I really felt, they wouldn’t be my friends. I was showing them what they wanted to see, so if that stopped, why would they stay? But people do stay.” She puts an arm around your shoulders. Even in the tropics, she’s warm. “Even if you can’t pull rabbits out of a hat.”

She feels as sturdy as the look-out rock next to you. “You make it look easy.”

“Do I? I still don’t know what to say to people sometimes. But I try to say something, because back when we weren’t talking at all was worse. Maybe I’m still too good at hiding things. But I know for sure that I’d much rather have this than go back to being alone. “

You look out over the steaming jungle. The curls of vapor remind you of smoke rising from a hasty pyre. When you set your grandmother ablaze, you’d wished there’d been someone there to hold your hand. Solitude hadn’t been tempting them. Are you one of those fools who always think the grass is greener on the other side? “This wasn’t a family vacation, was it? It was an intervention.”

“I noticed you’d been hiding a lot recently,” she admits. “That’s never a good thing. I thought I should check on you.”

“By helping me run even further away?”

“Hey, it got you talking.” She looks back out over the horizon. In the distance, the familiar shape of the frog temple looms out of the haze. “Sometimes being in a safe place helps. Remember who you were here with no one looking at you, and then let them know. You get to choose which face you want to wear.”

You take a look at her profile, familiar but not familiar. She’s less haggard than your grandmother, and she’s also missing the laugh lines. They suited her. “What face do you wear these days?”

“I’m always willing to put the attentive listener role back on for a friend, but most of the time I try to make it mine.”

You poke her on the shoulder. “My, grandmother, what big ears you have.”

She grins, revealing pointed teeth. “All the better to listen to your problems, my dear.”

A laugh finds its way up out of your stomach. It feels like taking your gas mask off and gulping down your first breath of fresh air. “I should go home. I can’t keep marinating in my own misery.” You don’t know what you can do to re-introduce everyone to the “real you”. Unleash another rant like you did to poor Roxy? Cower and make excuses like you did with Jane? Even you can’t predict your own idiotic behavior. Too bad you can’t arrange some sort of unboxing video.

“I can help, if you want.”

You shake your head. There’s no point inviting more witnesses. “Some things you have to do on your own. Maybe I’ll talk to you later if it goes sour. I’m sorry to cut this trip short. I know you wanted to see the old haunt.”

“We can come back sometime and have a good time.” She squeezes your hand, and you lean against her. “For now, let’s go where we should be.”

 Whatever resolve you mustered dwindles once you’re back. Maybe you won’t run into anyone for a while until you’ve worked up some more nerve.

As luck would have it, Roxy is right there when you emerge from your room. You open your mouth to greet her, but she sweeps by without even looking your way. The words die on your lips. She must be busy. That’s what you wanted, right?

Dirk’s in the living room. You circle around for a few minutes, sneaking glances at his severe silhouette backlit by the screen, and then tiptoe in. “I was thinking,” you say quickly, to force yourself to finish the thought. “If we could get the gang all together, I have something to say. No need to rush, though. You can take your time.”

No response.

“Dirk?” Sometimes he falls asleep sitting up and you don’t realize at first with his closed eyes hidden behind his shades. That possibility dies when he reaches for the remote. Why is he ignoring you? They’re not angry you went off with Jade, are they? “Hello?” You snap your fingers in front of his face. He doesn’t even blink. No one’s that stoic.

Jade and Jane walk past between you, and Dirk gives them a nod of acknowledgement. You hurry after them. Jade won’t give you the cold shoulder. “How was your trip?” Jane is asking.

“Pretty good,” Jade says. “Jake wanted to come back early, he has something to work out. But I’ll let him talk about it.”

“Where is he?”

“Here,” you say.

Jade frowns and sniffs. “I’m not sure… I don’t smell him. Maybe he went off to psyche himself up. He’s pretty nervous, go easy on him, ok?”

“I…” You reach out toward her as she walks away. Your fingers brush her shoulder, but she doesn’t react. “I’m right here.”

They can’t see you. No one can. You wanted them to overlook you, and look at that. You got your wish.

 “Pull yourself together, English,” you say. You’re pacing back and forth in your room, not bothering to keep your voice down. No one can hear you anyway. You shouted right in Rose’s face, just to be sure. “You got yourself into this, so you can get yourself out.”

The problem is, this isn’t what you wanted. It’s like some nefarious djinni took you too literally while dishing out wishes, delighting in misunderstanding. You didn’t ask for this. If you’d rather be visible, then shouldn’t your powers make it so?

“Hope is the worst,” you yell. The universe does not respond.

You sit brooding for maybe half an hour before your door opens. You don’t look up. They won’t see you anyway, so what’s the point?

To your surprise, you hear a voice. “Oh, hey. Jade’s looking for you.”

You look up.  John is standing in the doorway, hand on the doorknob. “You can see me?”

“Um… yes?” He steps in and shuts the door behind him. “Are you guys playing some joke I should know about? Because if so, I am going to be very mad if you don’t let me in on it.”

“It’s not a joke. I think something went wrong with my Hope powers. It’s gotten to everyone but you.”

“That sucks.” John has never been a master of verbal sympathy. “Caliborn couldn’t trap me in glitches, and Roxy’s void didn’t make me forget. Maybe I’m too unstuck in the universe for any changes to bother me. Or it could be a Breath hero thing. Echidna says nothing gets past us.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say. “I guess you’re stuck with me forever then.”

“You could see what everyone’s up to, like a spy,” he suggests.

“And spent the rest of my immortal life using you as a go between? No offense, but that sounds like it would get tiresome.”

“I guess it would.” To John’s credit, he can switch gears rapidly. “Well... how did it happen? If you made yourself this way, can’t you switch back?”

“Oh, good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.” You don’t mean to be snappish, but this is a frustrating situation!

John is unfazed. “Sometimes you think you want something, but you don’t. Like how Terezi thought she wanted to see Vriska but was secretly worried about it, so they wandered around each other in the bubbles for years. Maybe you wanted to disappear.”

“Then I’ve learned my lesson.” Jade is right. It is so much worse when no one is around at all.

He sits down on your desk chair and curls his legs underneath it. “How do your powers work?”

“I have to want something.” You remember how you felt facing Caliborn with your friends at your side. There had been no doubt in your mind then that you’d win. You knew how this story ended. That utter certainty is so hard to find. “But I do. The universe is playing hard to get.”

“Then convince me. People tell me I’m a good listener, even if that’s because I don’t always tell them they sound crazy when they’re saying crazy things. But I can try.” He rests his chin on his fist. “Why do you think it malfunctioned in the first place?”

You frown and look at him sidelong. Jade is a spunky teen version of your grandma. That’s easy enough to resolve in your mind, especially since you sent letters back and forth. John is harder. The brother of your teen grandmother is one step too far removed, a connection that’s wobbly. The other option – that he’s your son with Jane – is a cruel joke after that scene in the dungeon. But that’s not his fault, so you try to ignore that he has your funky smile and the texture of Jane’s hair. His eyes at least are his own.

“I suppose you’re right about me wanting to disappear, a bit. It all got to be too much. Things with Dirk and Jane are still so awkward, and people keep expecting things of me. I don’t want to be the one everyone looks to!”  

“What do you mean?”

“It means… when I got a handle on my powers, I was finally good for something. Suddenly people were looking to me for help and flocking to me and —” you shudder. “Trying to take it for their own. But if that’s all I’m good for, and I can’t even count on that… it’s a bit tenuous, basing your self-worth on one thing you can’t trust. And stupid. I know it’s stupid, but the old melon isn’t always that cooperative or willing to listen to reason. I don’t want to disappear. I just wanted them to stop looking to me for that. But if that’s all I am… I guess I went away entirely. I don’t know what’s left underneath.”

John nods. “I sort of get that. I’m the one who saved everyone by fixing reality, but I was never the planner, or the one who grew up fighting, or even the leader really, if you look at who made the most decisions. If things got really bad of course I would help, but it’s scary. I’d like a normal birthday for once, if the universe doesn’t mind.”

“It doesn’t seem to bother you as much.” Nothing seems to bother John all that much.

“I guess I’m pretty OK with just being John. I missed that. So.” He lifts his chin and crosses his arms. “That’s why you went away. Why do you want to come back?”

“Because I can’t live like this,” you snap. He shakes his head.

“Nope, not convincing enough. If I were the universe I would not be reshaping myself just for that.”

“You’re not being very motivational here.”

“I don’t think you have to make me feel sorry for you. You have to make me believe in you.  Right?”

You groan, but he has a point. Why do you want your friends to see you again? When you envision their faces, uncomfortable memories spring to mind. There are a lot of reasons to stay hidden. It takes a moment to dredge up something good. “We were… going to play Super Smash Bros together again.”

“That sounds like fun.” You imagine it would, to someone who subsisted for three years on a Ghostbusters MMORPG.

You rake your fingers through your hair, which gives you another idea. “My hair needs trimming, and Roxy is always the one who gets it just the way I want it. I… wanted to tell Jane about this new recipe I think she’d like.” It’s like gulping down the soup your grandmother prepared when you were sick. You don’t want the first few spoonfuls, but then it goes down easier. “Calliope and I have a few panels left to draw for our newest issue. We were going to take the Alternians to the zoo to show them animals with pigmentation, which will be a novelty for me too.”

“That’s a good to-do list,” John says.

“I have a lot on my plate as a regular citizen of this universe, it turns out.”

“It’s nice to be a regular citizen again.” John fiddles with the hem of his shirt. You haven’t seen him wear blue in a while. It’s a reminder that even if he doesn’t magically vanish from view, even if he doesn’t come knocking on your door asking for another face, Skaia pinned a lot on him too, even if Pin the Destiny on the Child Hero isn’t a party game you’ve ever heard of.

In your despair, you’ve convinced yourself you’re in this fix alone, but maybe everyone is preoccupied with how the world sees them. Certainly some of your housemates have had masks fixed on them by the cruel costumers of fate. You can’t control what they see now. Or, rather, the only way you can is by making sure they see nothing at all. But you have a life to live! Errands to run! None of which require being a superhero.

Maybe you’ll always be like this, with your power coming in fits and starts. It’s not what you’d dreamed of being, but then, your dreams have been disappointing of late. You can’t be anything while ghosting around like some shrinking violet.

It’s an apple in the hand. You can’t make a new you true all at once. You have to believe a new you should be, and then work to make it so. There’s no wishing this away. The first step, and each painful step after that, is trying. And when you know that, and know you know it… there’s that lifting feeling as the world rewrites itself, bearing you up like one of Jane’s helium balloons. You take a deep breath and manage a smile. “If I want to rebrand the Jake English experience, I had better start doing some product testing with my key audience.”

“Do you think it worked?” John asks.

“It would’ve been nice to have some sort of magical girl transformation, just to be sure. But yes, I think so. How do I look?”

Nothing would have changed for him, but he gives you a long once over anyway. Then he shrugs. “You look like Jake to me.”

“That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

You take a step out into the hallway and look behind you. John gives you a thumbs up. You suck in a fortifying breath, stiffen your spine, and make your way to the living room. Everyone from your session has clustered there. A few have their phones out, and you think guiltily of your multiple communication devices powered off and shoved under your bed. Going off the grid these days takes commitment. You clear your throat and step into the room. Five heads snap up. They see you. It’s a start.

“Hi, everyone,” you say. “It’s me.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers IX (Josh Wheeler xReader)

 A/N: Friendship is cool but it gets you in a lot of trouble. Also, Happy Christmas’ Eve!!!

Words: 4,339

Warnings: Blood, cursing and weird outfits 

Previous chapter // Next chapter

“Y/N, can I ask you a question without making you mad?”

“I don’t know Josh, you’ll have to ask me the question first”

“Why are you still wearing that?”

I look down at my clothes and laugh.

“I forgot,” I look at my reflection on the closest glass and examine the torn shirt that covers my body.

“So it wasn’t a fashion statement?” Asks Josh with a smirk.

“Sadly no,” I stand up and stretch my arms, yawning, “I think it’s time I get a new outfit.”

“You’re finally changing your resident evil cosplay?” Wesley walks by me, eyeing me up, Josh laughs.

“Don’t be mean,” I stick out my tongue, “I’d rock a resident evil cosplay”

“I don’t doubt it,” He raises his hands, “go nuts”

Wesley points towards the stores and I happily comply.

“You want us to go with you?” Josh raises his voice, following me with his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, you guys stay”

As I’m walking away I hear Wesley talking to Josh.

“We should practice our sword skills”

“Dude, yes!” Josh answers.

I chuckle lowly and head straight into my favorite store. 

It’s been a while since I got new clothes for myself; being alone is okay I guess, but it’s nice to be able to calmly pick an outfit without worrying about being attacked. 

I also get to pick something that will match my skates no matter what. You know when you have a specific favorite outfit that you wanna wear all the time but is not socially acceptable to do so cause then people will think you don’t shower? Well, now those rules don’t apply anymore cause everyone wears the same clothes all the time and it’s a known fact that we don’t shower. 

With that in mind, I pick the stuff that makes me the happiest and put them on. When I look in the mirror I feel amazing, and I take it as a sign that I have finally found my outfit.

“Y/N, we prepared a whole obstacle course, come see it!” 

“You wanna see my new outfit?” I ask excitedly from the changing rooms.

“Sure!” Josh replies, walking in, “Where are you?”

“Turn around and I’ll come out!” I drag the curtain and walk out towards him, I’m pleased to see he followed my instructions and is facing the entrance, “You can look now!”

He turns around and I show my outfit with my arms extended.

“So?”

“That’s a... are those short overalls?” He examines them carefully.

“Yes!” I smile wildly, “and a lime-green shirt. With fun socks,” I raise my eyebrows, “get it? so I can match the skates you gave me”

“That’s, uh...”

“You don’t like it,” I lowered my arms, frowning, “Why?”

“It’s not that!” He quickly counters, “it’s just... well, your arms and legs are exposed and we live surrounded by things that bite.”

“Yes, but I have a hammer,” I say sternly.

Josh stares at me.

“A hammer won’t protect you from a horde.”

“Fair,” I agree, “but it’s not just my hammer. I have two samurais on my side, right? Either way, Ghoulie bites aren’t that dangerous.”

“They are if they rip your arms off”

“You’re exaggerating. I’ll be fine,” I walk past him, “you gonna train with Wesley or no?”

“Yeah but-”

“Hey, are you guys coming or what?” Wesley screams from the main hall.

“Going!” I scream back.

I found a bunch of tables with a small piñata, a watermelon and god knows what else spread around the place in order to make training harder. Wesley lets out an exclamation of approval when he sees me.

“Now, that’s a hundred percent Y/N-brand. You look good, girl!”

“Thanks! I feel good,” I smile at him, then look over at Josh, “See? Wesley gets it”

“I never said I didn’t like it...” He grumbles.

“We can talk about our fashion sense later. First, we train,” Demands our friend.

“Who’s first?” I ask, leaning against a column far from the obstacle course.

“Let me show you how real warriors do it...” 

Josh and I look at each other wondering what will Wesley do to try to impress us. When he kneels on the floor and bows to his sword, we have to look away so we don’t start laughing.

But don’t worry, our laughter dies as soon as he does the wildest moves ever, totally not humiliating us in every possible way. 

When he fixes his posture and takes off his mask, he vaguely points towards the mess and then to Josh.

“So, clean this shit up and, uh, your turn,” He smiles. 

“What?” Josh asks in pure outraged. I laugh and he looks at me with a bitter smile, “oh, don’t get so amused. You’re helping me.”

“What?” Now is my time to be scandalized, “Why?”

He shows me his injured hand and smirks.

“Cause I'm a disabled person in recovery.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how this works,” I frown, “but I’ll help you anyway, cause I don’t want you to cut another of your little fingers by accident”

“How nice of you,” He mocks.

It takes us about ten minutes to replace and arrange everything. When we’re done I sit next Wesley, arms crossed and a knowing smile on my face.

“Just do your best, Wheeler. Try not to fall over innocent people, please.” 

“Very funny, L/N,” Josh sneers.

When it’s his turn to train, Josh does... his best. I managed to remain silent for most of it until he hits the mannequin and the only thing he cuts it’s the finger. 

“Oh my god,” I cover my mouth and stifle most of my laughter. Wesley stands up and looks at the result.

“Wow, that is... ironic.”

“It’s...” I say between laughs, “it’s so sad...”

“Dude, I’m a terrible swordsman. Especially with only one good hand,” Josh replies.

“You are in good company,” Wesley retorts in an attempt to calm him down, “Skywalker, Furiosa... Jaime Lannister, if you can get past the child-killing, incest, rape.”

“Meh,” I squint my eyes, “I think you should stick to Skywalker.”

Wesley shakes his head and mouths something that looks like ‘not now’, so I stay silent as he continues his speech.

“Hands gives us identity. Chefs cut, artist paint, warriors... warrior.”

That’s definitely not how you call it, but uh, that’s not the point, right?

“All good Jedi lose a hand.”

“I couldn’t even get that right!” Josh replies with annoyance, holding his hand up.

He leans against the column and falls slowly to the ground, it’s quite a miserable sight. I stand up and walk over to sit next Josh, I pat his back softly as a way of comfort.

“You know what I love about right now?” Asks Wesley, “we are free. We can do anything!”

Josh looks at me and I know he’s thinking about the story I told him yesterday. 

“I couldn’t pull off those pants,” He offers, discretely changing the subject, “you and Y/N could wear anything and still look good. I can’t, so I’m not that free.”

Wesley looks down at his clothes.

“No. No, you cannot. But is not about having cool shit, it’s about being cool as shit,” He slowly makes his way to us, “you define yourself. Who are you?”

This is getting real way too fast. 

Who am I? Besides the weirdo with a fixation for the lime-green. I told you this before, there’s a reason why I never joined any tribe. I clearly don’t have a thing. If I don’t have a thing, then why am I still here? What am I supposed to be doing?

“I’m oni samurai, when I get done with my quest and find redemption, they will write songs about me.”

“Who?” I ask, bewildered, “the fairies in your head?”

Josh stands up suddenly, getting face to face with Wesley.

“Look, I couldn’t save Sam’s life. I have to avenge her death,” I stand up as well, hearing attentively, “those scratches on her body were made with a butcher’s knife. I’ve only seen one douche with a weapon like that.”

And before he says it, I already know what he’s planning to do.

“I’m gonna kill Baron Triumph,” He leans over and speaks on Wesley’s ear, “I’m gonna kill Jayden Hoyles.”

Oh, poor stupid, love-sick Josh.

I know, judging by Wesley’s face, that this took an unexpected turn for him. For me? Well, I can’t say I knew exactly what Josh had in mind, but I figured he wouldn’t just stay here and cry for the rest of his life. He’s got hero-complex. Which, unfortunately, is gonna get him killed.

But it’s good to know that I’m not the only one looking for redemption now, whatever it was Wesley did and Josh’s burden are now on the line. Maybe that could be our thing? The tribe of regrets. The redemption circle. The I-can’t-stop-fucking-things-up club. No? Meh, I’ll find the right name eventually.

I follow Josh towards one of the stores. He’s in a bad mood.

“Josh-”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” He interrupts me, “I need to do this.” 

“I wasn’t going to stop you,” I reply.

“You weren’t?” He stops, turning completely this time, “Why?”

“You want me to stop you?” I raise a brow, “Cause I can do that too if you want.”

“No, I mean... I don’t know, I thought you’d be upset about this. See it as a way of holding on to something that won’t bring anything good.”

“I do think that you’re closer to get killed with this plan and I do believe that killing Hoyles won’t make you feel better. The difference is that I don’t follow any samurai rules, so I don’t think it’ll bring you bad karma or whatever. It’s your life, you decide.”

“Okay,” He has an odd expression. I can’t tell if he’s suspicious or curious, either way, it makes me feel nervous, “then you could help me?”

“To kill him?” I tense, “What, just because I killed once it means I can do it again?”

“No,” He rolls his eyes, “I’ve killed Ghoulies too, and I don’t judge you for what happened with your sister. You did what you had to do.”

“So..?”

“I was going to ask if you could help me find a new weapon... or hand”

“What?” I giggle, then I see him ready to get all defensive and I stop, “Sorry, what do you have in mind?”

And he pulls a list out of his pocket, like the dork he is.

“I have a few ideas...”

“We can try them,” I nod, “I’ll put on my skates so I can help you get the stuff faster.”

“Sure, I’ll be here, analyzing my list,” He lowers his eyes towards the paper, excitedly reading all he wrote.

I snort, walking away.

“You’re too cute, Wheeler.”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I said that out loud, didn’t I? 

Well, now I can’t turn around to see if he heard me, god I hope he didn’t. If he did that means he’ll start to get suspicious and I don’t wanna ruin another friendship. Besides, I don’t like Josh that way. I don’t.

We’re friends. I just gained a friend (several, actually), I won’t ruin it just cause I think he has pretty eyes. I told Angelica that I won’t be playing her games and I’m too stubborn to admit she may have a point. Also, am I forgetting that Sam just died? This isn’t exactly what I would call perfect timing.

Josh is focused on his work when I go back and I’m too nervous to talk to him, still thinking about how he might have heard my not so subtle compliment.

What is wrong with me? I never had this issue with Alex, he was easy. I mean, we also knew each other since we were six so I guess that’d have influenced the way I perceived my behavior around him.

“Y/N?”

“Huh, yes?” I jump, “sorry, what did you say?”

“You spaced out,” He says with a small smile, “you didn’t listen a thing did you?”

“No,” I give him an awkward smile, “I got lost in my own head. I’m here now though, tell me what you need.”

“What do you think?” He points to every item on the table, “You see something that fits my... uh, whatever Wesley said I should have?”

I slide closer, examining all the stuff.

“You understood what Wesley was saying?”

“Yes... no. I don’t know. I get that he’s trying to convince me that life can be better without revenge, I guess?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know what he was trying to say,” I mumble, “all I know is that I have no clue of who I am. The apocalypse kind of fucked up my identity.”

“Well, who were you before?” He steps closer, carefully grabbing the glove with blades and trying it on.

“The artsy girl, according to my friend Maya,” I reply, a bit self-conscious, “I wasn’t that good if I’m honest but you know, if my friends ever needed to draw something for their projects or if they were looking for some new not-so-famous band to listen to, they’d give me a call.”

“So you were the ‘not-like-the-other-girls’ girl?” He smirks.

“Ugh, that is misconceiving,” I scoff, “every girl is their own person, we’re all the same. Just like the guys, and humans in general. We just have different likings, I really liked all kinds of art before, that’s all”

“Okay,” He takes a minute to think about it, “you’re right, there’s no tribe for that.”

“And it’s not like I could use my drawings to defend myself,” I grin.

“Well, the disciples of the Kardashian aren’t exactly trained warriors.”

“Maybe,” I help him take off the glove, “but there’s more than one, they share one specific trait. The jocks protect them of course, they don’t need to know how to defend themselves, I do. I have no one.”

“You have me now,” He replies promptly, “Uh, I mean us. You have us. We can protect you and you can go back to being the artsy girl.”

“To be honest, going back to that would be dull,” I squint, “I know I said I wanted my old life but that’d only work in the old world. I can’t be who I was, so I have to find a way to be a new version of myself, meaning I’ll have to use my creative instincts in something else.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Josh answers, grabbing a knife and weighing it, “your thing and mine. We have time.”

“That, if you survive to Hoyles,” I say subtly, “cause if not then we don’t have time at all. Or... if you wait a bit longer before going after Triumph, maybe we’ll have it...”

“Ah, there it is,” Josh has a smug smile when he leans towards me, “that is how you’re trying to convince me about not doing this?”

“Is it working?” I get closer as well, grinning.

“Almost,” He sighs, “but not enough, I’m still going. The only thing that could stop me from going is if I don’t find something to help me with my bad hand, which seems more likely than not.”

“I tried my best,” My foot accidentally kicks a mannequin’s hand and something comes to my mind, “hey, we have one more item (not listed) that you can try on for your new look. Who knows? Maybe it’ll bring you good luck.”

“What is it?” He curiously looks around the table.

“Here,” I pick up the hand and show it to him.

“Y/N,” He gives me a stern look, “tell me you’re joking.”

“What? We don't have functional prosthetics laying around, that is the closest thing you can get,” I put a hand on my hip, “you know is your best choice. You’ll get used to it. Adapt and survive, man.”

“Fine,” He sighs, “but I’m not obligated to use it if I don’t like how it looks.”

“Sure,” I agree, “it’s your body.”

I sit next to the table while he goes to a changing room. I hear him break the hand and I hope he didn’t screw up the fingers. Not that we can’t get more if that’s the case, but you know, time is not something we have to spare.

Wesley enters and sees the bunch of weird things we’ve come up with.

“Okay,” He nods, “yeah, hell yeah! This is what I’m talking about, brother! You define yourself. Come out here and show me your new killer digits.”

Josh pulls the curtain and walks out from the changing room with the white, plastic finger tied to his hand. Wesley and I laugh.

“Nice figure, Kim Cattrall,” He notices neither Josh or I get the joke, and he continues, “because she was a mannequin.”

We stay quiet.

“In the movie mannequin?” I shake my head without saying a word, “about a mannequin who comes to life? They made a sequel with Kristy Swanson, the orig Buffy the vampire slayer...”

Josh walks out of the store, showing Wesley his middle finger.

“I can’t tell if that means he liked it,” I mention, standing up next to Wesley, “but I take that he won’t waste more time on this?”

“Okay,” Wesley sighs, “let’s go hunt Baron Triumph.”

The sound my skates make against the gravel is like music to my ears. I had missed this, the outside. As dangerous as it is, it gives me the liberty that no safe haven ever could. I know these streets like the back of my hand, I got this.

Maybe I enjoy myself a bit too much, skating around and humming an old song I haven’t heard in a while when I realize Josh is staring. I immediately stop what I’m doing.

“Sorry, I should be quiet,” I look away, limiting myself to just skate beside my friends.

“No, it’s okay,” He says, “I wasn’t- I was staring but I... it seemed like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I shouldn’t,” I reply, “this is not a fun trip, I’ll stop.”

“I...” Josh is about to say something when Wesley speaks up.

“Hey, look at this!” He picks up something from the street, “second left molar, nice craftsmanship on the porcelain ceramic filling...”

“Your dad taught you a lot,” says Josh.

“A thing or two.” 

“It was knocked off by Triumph.”

Wesley turns around and looks at Josh with a sly smile.

“You don’t know that.”

“I only know one dude in school with a size fourteen shoe... cause I licked it.”

We look down at the mud and see the footprint that Josh is pointing to us.

“Hoyles,” whispers Wesley.

“He went east, toward San Fernando,” Mentions Josh.

“You’re like a Canadian Wolverine,” Replies Wesley in amazement.

“More like Deadpool,” I correct, “’cause the katana..?”

“Wolverine is a Canadian Wolverine,” Josh shakes his head, “can we focus right now? Look, I hunted elk every summer...”

He starts to walk away, but Wesley keeps talking.

“Your dad taught you a lot.”

Josh stops only to answer.

“A thing or two,” He smirks.

“You can track. But you can’t fight.”

“Here we go,” I roll my eyes, moving away from their discussion to look for more clues.

I don’t pay much attention to what they’re saying while I turn my back to them and analyze the footprint. Josh is right, it’s heading towards the industrial section. I know the old Hoyles’ cereal fabric is there, maybe we should take a look and see what we find... 

“Run!” I turn around abruptly, raising the hammer above my head. I see Wesley sprinting towards the other side of the street, Josh gives me one panicky look before looking behind us in confusion.

“What?”

“Run!”

“Okay!” Josh runs after him with me close behind them.

We run around town like maniacs, I have the hammer ready but I don’t actually see any danger, so my fear isn’t growing but I’m not calm either. At some point, a couple of Ghoulies start to chase Josh and for some reason Wesley doesn’t let me help him. We wait until Josh gets rid of them and we go back to the running. My skates are going fast, soon enough I leave them behind and I hear Wesley scream:

“Get under the car!”

I stop harshly and skid without being able to control my movements. I trip falling on one knee and my legs and arms get a few scratches. My hammer flies like four feet away from me.

“Y/N!” Josh tries to go over to me but Wesley grabs his ankle, already under the vehicle.

“They’re coming!”

“Dude, I don’t see anybody!” He complains, obeying against his own will.

In the few seconds that takes me to stand up again, Wesley and Josh are already getting out from under the car.

“Let’s go! Go! Go! Go!”

“Wes, I’mma smash your knees with my- Where’s my hammer?” I look around frantically until Josh touches my shoulder lightly.

“Here,” He gives me the tool and I thank him silently, rushing over so we catch up with Wes.

“Wesley!” I scream after spending five more minutes running, “Stop! I think I hurt my knee when I fell, shit...”

Josh stops immediately after hearing what I said and looks over my shoulder, frowning.

“Dude,” He stops Wesley, “what the hell? Dude, there’s nobody after us. And now Y/N got hurt, look at her knee!”

I look down and I yelp at the sight. My knee is bleeding, swollen, and one of my hands is pulsating in a way that makes me think I might not be fine to continue.

“I think I can fix it,” I groan, gently touching my scratches.

“I had the Baron’s trail and now I’m all lost. Why did you do that?” Josh inquires.

Wesley seems to struggle to find a proper answer when we hear the engine of a car coming closer. Soon the golf team appears, annoying as ever.

“Great,” I grab the hammer from beside me and prepare to fight.

“Remember us, just Josh?”

“I remember there being more of you,” He retorts.

“We’re downsizing”

“Yeah, but not by choice, by circumstance.”

“The circumstance being death.”

“We’re currently taking applications for new membership.”

“Oh,” Replies Josh, “not interested.”

“Not talking to you,” complains Barry, “we’ll deal with you next. Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi, Barry,” I sigh tiredly, “how’s your wrist?”

I know them, of course. The golf team was like the lowest of them all, they weren’t so bad, only terribly stupid. During my time with the Jocks, I did some stuff for them as well, small things like collecting their balls and keeping their golf sticks clean and ready to use... I hate talking about golf cause it always sounds like I’m talking about sex.

“Better, thank you. I see you got a bad knee, I can get you an ointment for that.”

“No thanks, I’ll manage”

“What say you Fists?”

“You ready to come home?” Asks the other... is it Larry? They all have similar names, I can’t bring myself to remember, “listen to fate: Gary, Larry, Barry... Wesley”

“It doesn’t fit the line,” mumbles Barry.

“There’s a ‘y’ at the end” He replies.

“Meh, it’s kind of a stretch,” adds... Gary? I’m pretty sure it’s Gary.

“Close enough for Armageddon. Three is not a team, four can play spades.”

“Just because you have balls, doesn’t make golf a sport.”

It is, though. But I won’t say that right now.

“Gotta start somewhere to earn your way back into his good graces...”

A second car appears, this time on the other side. We’re face to face with Turbo. My wrist is killing me but I lift the hammer again, this time looking at the other side of the alley.

“Not gonna lie,” I say, “I’m starting to regret this”

“Tell me about it,” Whispers Wesley.

Turbo steps out of the car and growls. He does that a lot. As a matter of fact, it’s the only thing he does now. Wesley understands perfectly so he translates all that into a petition to fight to the death, only Josh and him, no weapons.

“You got all that from a look?”

“I speak Turbo.”

“What did I even do?” Asks Josh.

“Besides making all the wrong choices?” I ask.

“He said he doesn’t like to lose.”

“This isn’t Mario Kart! You tried to capture us, we got away”

“Wait, that was all?” I frown, “Turbo is chasing you because you won in a tag-you’re-it game?”

“He’s sensitive about this stuff,” explains Wesley.

“More like a fucking baby,” I reply.

Turbo grunts. Josh steps forward.

“Who cares?! God, this is... there is no your side or my side. Hoyles is out there trying to kill all sides. He’s killed out friends...”

“I’ll be your friend!” A small, mechanical voice replies behind us, “I love you. Let’s be besties!”

“What the fuck...” I mutter.

Larry picks it up and says he knows those bears, something tells me he’s in danger.

“That’s pretty. Put it down,” I urge him.

“They had their names stitched on their butts. What’s your name, guy?”

“I’m pretty sure he can’t answer that,” I insist, “Wesley that’s not a good sign, we need to leave.”

He nods and opens his mouth, but when Larry turns the bear around something catches our eye.

“Larry put the bear down!”

The explosion makes us fly and fall hard on the ground, disoriented and stunned. I hear screams and rushed steps around us, I open my eyes with difficulty and I see Josh’s body a few feet away from mine. 

All I do before passing out is watch as the figure of Baron Triumph walks out of the dusty cloud.

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic @hollywaterpls​

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X16 - It’s Not Easy Being Green

So, jealousy doesn’t transform Zelena into as much of a green eyed monster as it does a green DYED monster! XD

Who’s ready for the next review? Hopefully you are, so let’s jump right to it!

Press Release

With Rumplestiltskin as her slave, Zelena challenges Regina to a fight to the death and shocks the Evil queen with the reveal of their familial connection, and the town lays Neal to rest. Meanwhile, back in the past in the land of Oz, a jealous Zelena asks the Wizard to send her to Fairy Tale Land after discovering that she has a sister, Regina, and that Rumplestiltskin is training her to become a powerful force to be reckoned with.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Before we start, I have to say this: I hate the placement of this flashback. Zelena acts WAY too wicked and mean in the present segment for this flashback to give her the sympathy that the narrative is asking it to. She openly pokes Rumple over Neal’s death in such a cruel way (The entire segment happening right after Neal dies), goes after Regina, and is just the worst. I don’t know if they should’ve exchanged this flashback with the one from “Witch Hunt” or “Bleeding Through,” but the placement here makes the segment struggle to do what it wants to. It ends up hurting the present segment because there are characters who make jabs at Zelena being abandoned that are supposed to hurt, but don’t. Look, I feel for abandoned characters, but when I heard Rumple and Regina making jabs at Zelena in this episode about it, my response was “YOU TELL HER!”

I also feel like Zelena’s jealousy is just too much. The pacing for this segment just goes from 0 to 80 in a millisecond! And I get that OUAT characters are exaggerated and hammy and normally, I’m all for that. But this is supposed to be a humanizing character and a humanizing flashback and she has more in common here with Cruella and Bo Peep than with Regina or Rumple. The hamminess is supposed to come in their non-sympathetic moments, but with Zelena it’s all the time. Because of that, only the latter half of the scenes in the episode work. There’s no buildup to a crazy jealousy. She’s just already there, destroying the momentum of the segment. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t Rebecca Mader’s fault, but the writing itself. Zelena just spirals early on in the episode

“Put on a good face.” Narratively, I feel like this line never got the solid foundation that it needed. Zelena supposedly rejects the line, as it comes from an abusive situation, but it breeds a negative consequence for dismissing it. Now normally, the character is supposed to initially reject the advice, but be thrust into believing it through desperation, circumstances, and their changing worldview. Look at “We Are Both” for a good example of this. But here, Zelena does eventually follow through with this line after becoming evil, but the rejection of it is what causes her to turn green. There’s a lack of cohesion here.

“Because you couldn’t offer her the one thing she truly wanted -- the ability to become royalty.” This line automatically makes all of Zelena’s planning for naught. Like, even if she goes back in time, for as powerful as she is, Cora still won’t take her in because she’s not of royal blood. And Zelena knows this -- it’s spelled out explicitly in front of her, making her further pursuit of Cora’s love so...fruitless. By not listening to that line, Zelena comes off as kind of dense in her plan.

Now, is the segment bad? No. I think there are good elements to it. While Zelena goes way too far way too fast with her jealousy, some moments do work out really well. The Rumple/Zelena dynamic was spot on the entire time. And Rumple...just EVERYTHING Rumple works. I especially loves when he sees the slippers and he IMMEDIATELY changes to a snivelling suck up to try to get them. What a great acting moment!

Present

I love Regina’s character arc throughout this episode. This is such an important episode for her as she realizes what she has in terms of support from her growing friendships and how she needs to both trust and be grateful for it. “She said I don’t always realize what I have right in front of me.” I like how this is another instance of the villain delivering the moral and it being something that connects to Zelena so well! Not only that, but everything she has to go through in terms of realizing that a big comfort in her life was a lie is utterly heartbreaking!

I also like Robin! He’s a great support character for Regina and while that will eventually be to his detriment, it’s great here!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-I just love Zelena’s mum! She just instantly loves Zelena and it’s honestly so cute! And her dad...wow, Zelena just can’t catch a break on the dad/father figure front, can she?

-”Stick to the road.” And she’s sassy too! HOW did we never get to see this woman again?! She’s utterly delightful!

-Fuck. Those moments from Killian dropping the soil onto the grave to the transition to Rumple in all kinds of pain. And the music. That fucking guts me. It really fucking guts me!

-You know, I feel like for as long as it was, I still skimped on my Neal’s death thoughts. As I watch this, I realize that Neal never really interacted with Snow, David, and Regina, the former two having named their KID after them and the latter being a co-parent to his son.

-I’m tearing up from how beautiful that funeral scene was. I love how the music and the shovels were the only sounds heard. It wasn’t drawn out or risked with a speech. It was just allowed to bask in its own sadness.

-”Was he really worth all the trouble?” “Every bit of it.” *Tears start welling again*

-”He was family. Something you know nothing about.” Normally, that would be the ultimate douche move for Rumple to say, seeing as he’s imprisoned and grieving, it just...feels right.

-”To see the one person to help me find a family that wants me!” Zelena, you absolutely SHOULD get out of that abusive home, but that’s a little dismissive of your adorable mum!

-”She’ll get more than a dart when I find her.” YESS! Emma, take that witch down!

-Robin, now that you’re exposed, you just love showing off that tattoo, don’t you? XD

-”So what?” Regina, you know that Henry is the only bright spot in your life. Let’s not kid ourselves.

-”My condolences.” You son of a bitch!

-”I don’t want a gift from you.” “But you shall have it.” ...Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that a reference to the “Pilot?” And if so, holy hell, my Snow/Regina/Cora theory is really freakin’ spot on! Oh my God, it is!

-”It’s the Wicked West.” ...Zeze, the fuck?

-I actually love this table scene of everyone coming together and theorizing what the fuck is up with Zelena!

-I LOVE Walsh’s Wizard voice. It’s so powerful, but ha a gentle softness to it too.

-Also, as we watch this episode, I have to say that Walsh wasn’t such a well designed character. In “New York City Serenade,” he’s a Hans-like villain who is supposed to be irredeemably bad. But in this flashback, the worst he does is lie. Not only that, the whole time he DOES lie, he’s kind, supportive, and takes Zelena’s feelings into account! He’s a bonafide sweetie!

-I’m pretty sure Rumple spent a hot second thinking Zelena was his kid. Okay, show of hands: Who thinks Cora and Rumple boned?

-Damn, paternity tests are REALLY easy in the Enchanted Forest! I now HC that Rumple played a part in sorting out the whole Lily debacle!

-”I don’t think a sleeping curse is good for the baby.” You’d be surprised, Snow!

-Wow! Look who has a personality, Robin! A nice bit of sass you’ve got there!

-This scene with Regina, Robin, and the letter is utterly magnificent! Lana’s acting here is just so great as she slowly paints this picture of how this letter was a comfort to her, only for that to be ruined by the realization that the first born described was not her. It’s a beautifully tragic sequence.

-”I foresaw that that curse could only be cast by Cora’s daughter.” Now WHEN did you see this? If it was after Cora broke things off with you, that would be one thing, but if it was before -- and narratively, before does make more sense -- that causes some trouble. Because if you saw this before you met Cora, and you were planning to run off with her and presumably have a kid, then it would be the Zelena problem all over again: You’d just have another magical child who can’t cast the curse because the thing they love most would be Rumple (That or Rumple would have no problem with killing Cora, the woman he loved, to enact the curse).

-I like how Zelena sort of made Rumple a better teacher by asking for something to reference!

-”Some spinsters took us in.” It’s weird. He kind of jumps to the royal “we” for like half of this speech for some reason. It’s a really weird writing choice.

-”The moment you decided to train me.” Look at Rumple’s face! He knows he went to far with being kind to her and fucked up!

-Emma! This stealth mission involves a lot of yelling! Maybe you should cut that out!

-I love how Rumple SO doesn’t want to deliver that message from Zelena, but still puts every bit of passion into it!

-”Like a GPS?” “Aye.” The beat between those two lines gets me every fucking time! XD

-”The more things you guys tell me about my dad, the less things make sense.” Welcome to OUAT, Henry!

-”I’m not an amateur. I’m the Savior.” What a badass line.

-I love how Regina’s first instinct is not to use magic, but slap a bitch! XD

-WHAT’S UP WITH ZELENA AND FUCKING SHAVING?!

-”You’re insane.” “Besides the point.” XD What an underrated quip!

-I kind of want to see some fanart of Rumple getting his sparkly little hands on those slippers!

-”My Miata.” Doc, I feel for you. I really do, but you KNEW there was gonna be a fight here. You could’ve moved your car. That’s on you, bro!

-Like seriously! #Walshdeservesbetter! The dude’s not a villain and I don’t like his portrayal in “New York City Serenade” retroactively as a result!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Wicked Witch - Okay, my issues aside, I think Zelena is still a great villain. Look at how everyone reacts when she enters a space! Everyone backs the fuck away, terrified and she gets to go on her funny rants because few have the balls to say anything about it. And the arc itself is moving at an engaging pace and has a good establishment of setting a narrative with questions that need to be answered while also setting the groundwork for those answers with Regina rising up to take on Zelena.

Neal’s Death - So, while Neal dying isn’t an arc, per se, I feel it is important to keep track of how the narrative handles Neal for the rest of the season. The after effects of a death can be just as earth shattering in a story as the death itself and it’s a show of how the writing team respects the character. And this episode thankfully, handles it nicely. Neal’s passing follows everyone throughout the episode and is a strong presence in everyone’s action, most notably Emma’s.

Killian’s Redemption - I love Killian’s role in this episode. He’s working hard to become a better person, quell Emma’s lust for revenge, and most importantly, help comfort Henry. He knows he majorly fucked things up with Bae and helping henry see the kind of person his father was is such a step in righting that wrong because he’s honoring Bae’s dying wish. I also like that for Henry’s sake, even if it goes against what he knows Emma wants, he argues that Henry needs to know his father. I think this shows how Killian’s redemption is more serious than it initially lets on and is more motivated than just by Emma.

Regina’s Redemption - Even though Regina know she can’t win, even when she feels so at a loss and helpless. she goes to fight for everyone! She grits her teeth, comes up with a plan, and ultimately wins more than she loses. This is Regina at her peak! She’s snarky, sarcastic, cool, smart, and she’s gonna kick your ass!

Favorite Dynamic

Henry and Killian. Once again, in an episode filled with sad moments and dark things, this dynamic was a well needed reprieve. Killian comes in, fulfilling both a character and a story purpose. The Henry/Killian subplot was just sweet and kind. Seeing Killian understand what Henry needs to hear about his father and delivering it in a way that keeps everyone’s dignity and respect intact was great. Also, I have to appreciate the difficult position that the characters are in here, and how the writing did a very genuine and natural job of improving Henry’s memory-influenced relationship with Neal.

Writer

Andrew Chambliss is once again on his own this time. And yeah...I felt like some of this was rocky and lacked cohesion over what over what we were supposed to feel.

Rating

7/10. The past segment of this episode is really flawed, but not to the full detriment of either the present segment or even itself. There are good qualities to it, especially when we hit the forest scene going forward, BUT there are some narrative issues that are more than just nitpicks and hinder whatever emotions the audience tries to attribute to Zelena. But enough about the bad. Let’s talk about the good. First, Regina’s just marvelous in this episode. Her struggle with dealing with Zelena is so good and angsty and how she performs during the witch fight is just awesome. Second, the Killian and Henry subplot was so touching. This isn’t an easy situation to write considering the unique positions of any of these characters, but what is written is just gorgeous. Finally, Rumple just rocks. He’s the highlight of the flashback and in the present, the whump is high and appropriately desolate and sad and I am here for this!

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Swan Fire - Emma’s sadness and rage at losing Neal gives me fucking life and makes me weep like a lil bitch! She loved Neal so much. And he’s gone! Like, the fact that someone had to intervene shows how angry she had gotten and I like how the narrative plays up how hurt she was. And then Snow and David show up, and you see just how saddened she is at Neal’s passing.

Captain Swan - I think this is some of the most lowkey Captain Swan stuff, but it’s also really effective. Seeing Killian step in and stop Emma from focusing so hard on revenge is really touching after she introduced him to a new path. It’s also amazing how Killian’s not only willing to help Emma with Henry right now, BUT to actively help him grieve and you see how this is the kind of personality that Emma responds to more than anything. He focuses on her needs (“Nothing will happen to the boy while he’s in my charge.”).

Outlaw Queen - Okay, the entire scene at Granny’s is just plain adorable, from Regina and Tink “gossiping about boys” to Robin making sure Regina was okay to Robin just FUCKING FLAT OUT asking her on a date. And their banter and trust as the episode continues to progress is so delightful! It’s fucking cute, if you couldn’t tell my thoughts, and I’m happy that I’m falling for these two again! I also just love how Robin knows that Regina’s an utter powerhouse and while not being afraid, does respect both her power and consent.

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Whoo-boy! This week has been intense for me wit OUAT stuff! Thank you so much for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales, as always! Love you all and I’ll see you next time!

Season 3 Total (152/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (39/60) Kalinda Vazquez (26/40) Andrew Chambliss (34/50) Jane Espenson (20/30) David Goodman (20/40) Robert Hull (30/40) Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (20/30)

* Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Links to the rest of my rewatch will no longer be provided. They take posts with links outside of searches and I spend way too much time on these reviews to not give them that kind of exposure. Sorry for the inconvenience, but they still can be found on my page under Operation Rewatch.

[davidelizabethbowiestrider]

Blood Runs Thick

A feeler for my Disney Descendants Jaylos trash fic I’m writing…

Auradon had always seemed like a dream, far away and so much brighter than anything he’d ever seen on the Isle of the Lost, so much cleaner and purer and simply better than what he had. Now- three weeks after the debacle with Uma- he couldn’t shake the feeling that even if they had left the Isle, left their parents death tight grips and unholy expectations, they would never truly be free. Mal still sometimes felt the pull of doing the wrong thing, still felt that she had to live up to expectations beyond her capabilities. Evie still pushed herself to be the fairest, still had days where she couldn’t look in the mirror for fear of hearing her mother’s voice pointing out her every flaw. Jay still had a hard time controlling his sticky fingers, still cased every room they entered even if he had no intentions of stealing anything. And Carlos himself still jumped at little things, still felt a wave of unadulterated fear roll through him whenever someone raised their voice unexpectedly.

Someone had whispered, when they’d first arrived from the Isle, that you could take the kids out of the Isle but you couldn’t take Isle out of the kids, and Carlos couldn’t help but wonder at the truth of the words.

It was late; Jay had spent extra time in the amphitheatre practicing Swords and Shields plays in preparation for the semi-finals, unwilling to let Lonnie down now that he had given her the title of Captain; Carlos had insisted that he help him, stating that his duty as best friend listed ‘sparring buddy’ right along side ‘causing mischief’. They’d returned to their dorm room just at the edge of curfew, unwilling to irk Fairy Godmother any more than they usually did by being out later than allowed, and Jay had offered him the shower first. Carlos had slipped into the bathroom, pajamas clutched to his chest to drop onto the counter before stripping off his t shirt, dropping it in the laundry basket wedged between the counter and the toilet. He paused as he caught sight of his stomach, flat and freckled and littered with scars. Slim fingers pressed along the most prominent of his morbid collection, wincing at the memory that the numbed sensation pulled from him. Too many nights had been spent nursing wounds such as the one that had left the marking, too many nights spent in fear that his mother would finish the job while he drifted off to sleep. He took a steadying breath, turning from the mirror to finish undressing, moving to turn on the shower to warm up the water.

And that had been a pleasant surprise the first time he had turned on the bathroom tap. Heated, clean water, as much as he liked, any time he liked. The Isle had plumbing, of course- King Beast had given them that much, along with basic electricity and the scraps of whatever Auradians felt they no longer had a use for- but the sewer system had no place to go due to the barrier, backing up into their water supplies and causing all their water to be a murky, muddy brown that had to be boiled before any use. Back, before he had met Evie and been taken under Jay and Mal’s protection, Carlos had started to put together designs to make a water filtration system; three years into the project, the then ten year old had given up due to being unable to have access to any of the equipment he would need to do so. Yen Sid had been impressed with the blueprints he had shown him, and Carlos often wondered if the old magician had been the one to suggest that he be taken off the Isle at Ben’s proclamation. Stepping into the now steaming shower, Carlos let out a relieved sigh as the hot water hit his sore shoulders, turning his back into the water stream as he tried to exhale the stress of the day. Classes were easy enough for him, the subjects an interesting change from the lessons taught at Dragon Hall, but there was always that chance that he wouldn’t be proven good enough and he had taken it upon himself to learn as much as possible of the new world Auradon opened up to him before the possibility of his potential future was taken from him like everything else in his life. And it could; there was nothing saying that Ben couldn’t change his mind. That the people of Auradon wouldn’t demand they be sent back, that he be sent back. The others had captured the hearts of the people in their own ways- Jay’s Tourney skills, Evie’s clothing designs and Mal’s relationship with Ben gave them worth, in the eyes of the princes and princesses around them, but Carlos had nothing to offer to the masses, nothing that had made him stand out on his own. They could send him back alone and no one would even notice, he imagined. He’d be sent back to his mother, who would…

Inhaling deeply, he shifted to press his forehead against the wall of the shower, cool tile slippery under the water dripping from his hair as he tried to steady himself. He could feel the tight, clawing feeling building in his chest that usually preceded a panic attack, the sticky heat at the base of his spine threading it’s way up into his ribs and through his chest as his breathing caught in his lungs as though his mother’s thin, spindle sharp fingers had wrapped around them and squeezed. The water helped, minorly, and he reached to grasp the shower tap as his breathing became more stuttered, more thick and difficult to draw in. He was suffocating, he had to be- he’d never had an attack so bad, not since coming to Auradon, not even before. His fingers slipped on the slick surface of the tap, and he felt himself waver as he tried to remember what Jay always told him to do when the rushing tide of anxiety and fear swept over him, threatening to take him under and wash him out into nothingness.

Jay. Jay was just outside, just beyond the closed door and the shower curtain, and he could help. He could fix the spotted darkness creeping into his vision and the overwhelming crushing pressure that was pressing him down.

“Jay!” His voice was cracked, wet and dry and every contradiction that swirled inside of him, too loud and not loud enough even as he attempted to pull the curtain from blocking his exit, his vision swimming as he tripped over the lip of the tub to crumble to the floor, the dull thud of his impact with muffled in his own ears. He curled into himself, trying to remember how to breath as everything pressed in on him, before suddenly warm hands pressed to his back.  

“Carlos. Carlos, it’s okay, I’m here.” Jay’s voice helped, drawing some of the darkness away as he struggled to turn his eyes to his friend whose soft smile barely covered the look of concern hidden just under the surface as he wrapped a towel around Carlos. Strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him off the floor to carry him into the bedroom and deposit him gently onto on of the beds (Jays, his mind caught, Jay’s bed was closest and softer than his own, the ex-thief preferring to sink into the mattress in the familiar way his body has sunk into the pile of rugs that had served as his bed back on the Isle) before disappearing again. Distantly he heard the water in the bathroom shut off before Jay’s presence returned, slipping onto the bed beside him to wrap a blanket around his still damp body over the towel before pulling him close. “Deep, slow breaths C, c’mon. I know you can do it.” Jay’s voice was soft, quiet in the night in a way that wrapped around Carlos and soothed the tightness in his chest a fraction more. Following his instructions, Carlos tried his best to draw in a slow, deep breath; the air caught in his throat, thick in a way air shouldn’t be, and he panicked further with a hiccupping sob. He was going to die, he was going to suffocate and Jay wouldn’t be able to help.

“Carlos, hey. Hey, here, feel me, feel me breathing and follow what I do okay?” Jay’s voice remained calm as he pulled him closer, flush enough to follow the exaggerated rise and fall of the older teen’s chest. Carlos struggled to follow along, pushing air from his lungs even as the urge to draw more in as fast as possible washed over him. It was like drowning, but in reverse; his lungs loosened with each breath, his chest and throat opening up to take in the air as the trickle of heat at his spine receded slowly. Jay’s words trailed into soft, soothing noises, calloused fingers rubbing along his chest in an attempt to urge each breath in deeper than the one before as his body relaxed slowly into the warmth of his friend’s body. Several moments passed, and when he no longer felt as though he was at risk of washing away into the roiling darkness that had previously threatened to take him under, he shifted to wrap ice cold fingers around Jay’s own, not pressing hard enough to stop the older boy’s movements but enough to let him know he was calming down.

“Thanks, Jay.” His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears, as cracked and reed thin as he felt his own skin to be, and he swallowed noisily as Jay pulled him closer still, burying his nose at the base of Carlos’ neck to breath softly against the freckled skin there.

“What caused it?” Jay’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, and Carlos let out a shaky breath as he thought back to what had triggered the attack.

“I don’t want to go back to her, Jay. I’d rather die than go back to her.” Jay’s arms tightened around him, and he curled his fingers, his nails biting into the soft skin of Jay’s hand.

“You’re not going anywhere, Carlos. You’re here in Auradan, you’re safe here. No one is making you go anywhere, dude, I promise.” He let the words sink in, his breathing finally coming under his control as he let his eyes close.

“I’m just here, and everyone’s going to realize that I’m not good. I’m not good at doing this, Jay, I can’t.” He couldn’t hold on to the feeling of goodness like the others seemed to, couldn’t stop comparing himself to the others around him and finding himself wanting. There was a huff from behind him, and he found himself suddenly shifted to lay chest to chest with his friend, the older teen giving him a warm smile.

“Dude. You’re the goodest person I know. Uh. Most good? Best. You’re good, Carlos. Trust me.” Rough hands rubbed along his back, their warmth spreading along his spine as he swallowed around the thickness in his throat at Jay’s words.

“I’m not.” He whispered, fingers curling into the material of Jay’s shirt, tight enough to cause his knuckles to whiten against the dark fabric. “I’m broken, Jay, more broken than you guys. I can’t do this any more. It’s so hard, I keep hearing her every day. I can feel her, like she’s crawled under my skin and is prying me apart from the inside. I keep thinking none of this is real.” Jay’s smile slipped into a frown as Carlos continued to speak. “Like I’m going to wake up and look in the mirror and not recognize myself. That I’m going to wake up one day and be just like her.”

“Carlos. You’re the furthest thing from Cruella. Look at me.” Carlos let his eyes meet Jay’s, blinking owlishly as Jay pressed their foreheads together. “You are a good person. You’ve always been a good person. You’re the one who helped Evie out, when she first came back from exile, right? And you were the one who Dude chose, yeah? You are never going to become her. Never. Okay?” Carlos gave a shallow nod, and Jay tightened his arms around him slightly.

“Genetically speaking, I’m on a high risk end of mental illness, Jay. I’ve…Auradon has so many books on our parents. On my mother. On her illnesses. On why she’s the way she is, what caused her to want to steal and skin over a hundred innocent animals, animals that were people’s pets. And do you know what those books say?” Jay shook his head, frown deepening as his brow furrowed. “They say that your dad, Evie’s mom, even Maleficent were brought into their evil ways due to nuture, how they were raised or circumstances outside of themselves, situational evil that they let shape them…But Cruella? My mom would have gone crazy regardless. Genetically she was set up for mental illness and then no one helped her. Genetically speaking I could become just like her, Jay. Histrionic personality disorder? That’s what they call it, her being the way she is, how everything is about her, everything needs to be her, her, always her. And it doesn’t set in until early adulthood. What if I become that?” His cheeks flushed, eyes squeezing shut as his fingers tightened in Jay’s shirt. “What if I can’t stop it from happening?” There was a long moment of silence between them, Dude’s soft whine the only sound as the dog paced in the space between their beds, before Jay let out a small huff of breath.

“We are not our parents, Carlos. And you…are the smartest person I know. And I know you pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. So I’m gunna make you a pact, right here, alright?” Carlos nodded, pulling back slightly to watch Jay’s face. “If you start going crazy? I’ll tell you. I’ll do everything in my power to help you.” Carlos nodded, and Jay offered a small smile. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen, C. I really don’t think it will.” Squeezing his arms against, he shifted to pull the younger teen on top of him, and Carlos rested his cheek on Jay’s chest, letting the slow rise and fall of his friends chest lull him to sleep.

[coolhappybouquetsaladblr-blog]

Very best First Anime Series And Movies

Ailing watch watever anime you bought in stock. I noticed that you put Gurren Laggan on your watch listing. It has motion however its story isnt very good. Hey sick recomend you this superb anime that i watched i might say its my favourite proper below FMA brotherhood. Positively one in all my favourite animes of all time. With the exception of Code Geass, completely love this listing! It was an insane and superb watch, and i have rewatched it several instances already. Watch Highschool DXD, Dat pl0t. I feel that dragon ball gt must be a last ditch anime to look at however it needs some dbz..... and soul eater is nice if you happen to like hellsing. Strive watching these three animes to :D. I forgot about another actually nice anime, considered one of the best I noticed (and I saw loads), which is Last Exile. As you may see on my "Going to watch" record, they are all tier 1, which means I've actually high expectations for them. I watched 140 eps (so u cannot say "He watched 2 eps and he knows nothing") and it is my 1st and solely anime I didn't have the energy to complete... Fairy Tail is unquestionably the no1 "lengthy" (a hundred+ eps) anime ever so I am positive you'll prefer it. Also don't waste your time on Gintama trigger it sux so laborious, it is laborious to describe. On the other hand I feel Death Word is overrated, however that happens in most top lists. My "to look at list" is beginning to get really large now... My last concern is the number of episodes. First and foremost, it is a shounen, which is a style i really isn't that fond of, although satirically sufficient Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood is the best series I've ever seen... Okay I like all of those exhibits, and you neeeeed to watch Angel Beats and Fruits Basket! Vontajd - Golgo thirteen seems great, I am going to add it to my "want to watch" listing. : i didnt see Naruto in your checklist...You should reaaly watch that i do not like that sasuke things happening however apart from that it's actually a good show. Write for Us is excellent, glad to see that on the watch record. Check my checklist if you'd like to: /listing/my-favorite-anime-bgm. I've to offer it credit score for being unique, badass, and sensible, however nonetheless, I can not say I find it irresistible. Dude your listing is soo going to vary when you finish your (want to watch listing) hehehe. Nicely, you're saying "can't", like if you are seeing it atm or like you have not completed it. The first episodes in Baccano! As I see new sequence, I'll instantly replace the checklist. It doesnt have the little extra which we get by watching the best sequence. Might have a personality that's "saving" the series (cough Alucard cough) or first rate soundtracks, okay ending and so on. 3 out of 10; the series is boring as hell, and that i ought to have stop after the 2nd episode. I favored: Extremely good character development, at instances hilarious (laughed out loud), good dub. Haven't learn the manga myself, don't know if I shall yet... Have seen the whole series, the OVA's and the movie. Season three (after episode 62) are simply fillers that has nothing to do with the mange (or at least that's what i've heard). I completed watching this anime just a few days ago (written October 12th 2012) and it is a nice anime as expected. In case you are in search of one thing with not an excessive amount of of a plot, however you may just sit again and luxuriate in some popcorn while enjoying a gunfight, Black Lagoon is certainly what you're searching for :) One factor about this present which bothered me a bit, which is necessary to not think about is how extremely unrealistic they handle to make every single motion scene. The plot in Gungrave follows the protagonist Brandon Warmth and his pal. I've learn reviews saying "Best anime of all time", but that's just exaggerated. In other words, there wasn't very much progress till the last episodes. The animations are just out of this world (written when episode 3 was out)..