#whatever moe has taken (i know what it is as i type this but in the moment i didnt know)

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

I think I figured out the issue with tumblr eating my posts, but let's find out.

Take it away Mr. Gold

That's generous.

And the way hes sitting on that chair?

And the amount of force hed have to use to keep moe pinned down just like that?

Man is strong.

He's chaotic feral smile is so telling.

His interrupting is a rumple style feral giggle and it was horrifying.

He's had it, he's at the edge.

Okay so this scene? What he's yelling at moe? Dude you're yelling at YOURSELF!

"What are you talkin about my fault?" Rumple deep down knows. He knows he fucked up.

"You shut her out"

Moe has no fucking context to this non therapeutic beatdown.

Mr. Gold is yelling at rumple now, and since I'm sure masochism wasn't a big thing to air in 2011 that's what we're going with.

"YOU HAD HER LOVE AND YOU SHUT HER OUT"

This physically hurts me to hear, and I'm sure it physically hurts him to say.

"SHE'S GONE, SHE'S GONE FOREVER SHE'S NOT COMING BACK AND IT'S YOUR FAULT"

Maybe he ended up seeing a therapist after a millenia?

"NOT MINE, YOURS!"

Maybe not.

"YOU ARE HER FATHER!"

Moe still has no idea what the fuck Mr. Gold is beating him for some unknown child.

I love the fucking parallel of Gold beating Moe vs. Rumple beating the curio cabinet.

He's still hurting so much he starts to hurl the tea set.

But then he gets to that fucking chipped cup.

He can't do it.

[livwritesstuff]

I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

[dystxpiansims]

Hello! I don't like to do this, but I think it needs to be done.

If you heard about Equiliberty, you probably heard about Jocelyn Flores, or Moe, or 2thedoe, or whatever her names are. I really didn't want to make this post, but seeing how she made a whole blog just to talk trash about other servers and people who are "harassing" her after her other blogs got taken down, I feel I need to say something and let others know what they would be joining into.

First I'd like to make a pointer here; Natalia does not take their time to dedicate "talking shit" about Jocelyn or whatever she goes by now. She only posted what felt was necessary to let others know what is going on behind closed doors that Jocelyn wants to keep pushing away as nothing and act the victim. Yes, maybe some of us said some things in the past, but what Jocelyn is doing is not cool.

What's really sad is I thought Jocelyn was an amazing person, but after all the things I've seen, I take it back. Sure she can be cool when she's not showing her true colors, but she can't own up to what she's done and take responsibility, and instead says she apologizes and then makes an entire tumblr blog dedicated to shit talking others and calling any other sims 4 equine communities/servers "competition". Your server isn't the only one, ma'am. Which shows one of the posts she's made on it below:

Secondly; what you're doing IS making a drama post by keeping it going. If it truly bothered you, just ignore it and keep going on with your life than wasting your energy on making an entire blog to be nasty towards others? You made your point, you block them, you go on, not have your 'friends' stalk them to keep you up to date with what's happening and keep stirring the pot by adding to your hate blog. And you're not transphobic??

Uh, I hate to break it to you but this:

This is the definition of transphobic. How can you say you want to respect them, but you don't want to even call them by their pronouns? You OBVIOUSLY don't respect them enough if you refuse to call them what they go by. Calling them by their desired name is the bare minimum, but it don't mean you respect them.

This may be an opinion, but this is a HARMFUL one. There are no "two genders". If you believe in science, then obviously you're not studying it hard enough. Sex? There is at least six:

X – Roughly 1 in 2,000 to 1 in 5,000 people (Turner’s )

XX – Most common form of female

XXY – Roughly 1 in 500 to 1 in 1,000 people (Klinefelter)

XY – Most common form of male

XYY – Roughly 1 out of 1,000 people

XXXY – Roughly 1 in 18,000 to 1 in 50,000 births

"Sex refers to biological attributes that distinguish organisms as male, female, intersex and hermaphrodite. Gender is a social construct, encompassing various psychological and social characteristics that collectively define individuals as men, women, non-binary or trans, etc." So obviously you don't believe in science enough to actually do your research, I presume? Don't make an "opinion" if you've never done any research on this type of a topic.

Yes, this is how we will run our community by making sure the person that has hurt multiple people don't join back and cause more problems. If someone causes you trauma in your childhood and you finally get away, would you want them to just come back in your life? I don't think so. Somethings CAN be forgiven, but obviously this is a big thing that hurts a big community, and you can't even take responsibility and give a lame apology to actually apologize for hurting others, but instead just to cover your tracks and protect yourself, along with "clearing out people who don't feel serves the server any purpose anymore" and in the midst of your breakdown, you ban this person who didn't do ANYTHING except check their balance because you weren't happy at the time.

Oh, by the way, here's the thing that I was referring to with the competition and once again dragging another server down in this "quote unquote" not a drama post. No one is poaching members from the server, they're doing that on their own. They're not going to stay in a server with someone they don't feel comfortable with. But AI generated logos? I was there during the time and I don't remember any AI generated logos? I remember a conversation about AI generated images and Jocelyn not agreeing with banning them or not seeing anything wrong with it and not seeing the point in getting angry over it.

No one attacked the server, Jocelyn. Everything that's been said was towards you who has ruined the server for everyone, even to the point removing general because you couldn't handle being called out and instead was lashing out at the others and acting the victim in the chat, deleting anything that even mentioned it or asked a question. OH! And kicking someone out of the server for simply asking a question for you to clarify what you said.

Only server I've ever had to walk on eggshells and scared to interact on was in Equiliberty - but that was because of you, and that's why I left. I was scared to interact after your little meltdown because if someone said anything there was a possibility of getting banned for no reason. But these servers? They feel truly like home and not once has there been any problems, and they actually listen to the members when there's a suggestion made.

Anywho, onto yet another post she had made!

No one has made accounts just to harass you - it's more like you who has done that, huh? And useless tumblr posts? It's pretty useful to me to avoid someone like you who can't seem to let things go and keep it going and not even take responsibility of your actions.

Quite sad you won't even take in other peoples words when trying to tell you there isn't just "two genders". No one is making the LGBTQ+ more important than the "other factors" but we're tired of not being taken serious and being brushed aside as if we're nothing but garbage. Yes, we all matter equally, but to go out of your own way to downsize the importance of this is quite astonishing. To be going around saying "it's just my opinion" and very clearly saying you won't be calling someone by their pronouns because what YOU see isn't what they identify or feel like or even "pass" as but yet you still "respect" them really shows the type of person you are and to lie to cover your own ass too on top of it. Uh huh. I sure as all hell don't feel respected, you've lost all my respect for you.

Many people have posted straight from the source of where things were said and done, so you're right! Never assume! People know who you truly are now, ma'am.

And here she is with her saying her other accounts have been deleted and ofc this being her first post! Totally not drama posts, right?? RIGHT?? So, there's my proof of her verifying this whole blog is dedicated to harassing others and talking shit and trying to turn it around on the ones who tell and show the truth. Have a good life Jocelyn, but sooner or later, others who are sticking around you and protecting you will realize who you truly are.

[yayeetsonny]

Keeping Secrets~USWNT x Baby Reader

Prompt: Team finds out baby r has epilepsy.

Requested by: @khiaraaa-in-spacee​

TW: Depictions of seizures and mentions of them.

Y/N PRO//

My name is Y/N L/N and I have epilepsy. Having epilepsy is hard because a lot of people assume that there is just the one kind, where a person suddenly falls to the ground and experiences uncontrollable muscle movement. While that is a common form that it can take there are several other types. Like mine, I experience Typical absence seizures, this means that when I am experiencing one I stop whatever it was I was doing and it can look like I’m frozen or zoning out, my eyelids flutter quite a bit and my ams jerk slightly sometimes too. When these happen I don’t realize it until it’s over.  Most of the time I have several in a row so when everything is over I tend to be a little confused. 

I try not to let it define my life. I’m also a member of the United States Women’s National soccer team. I’m the youngest player on the squad at 15 and the team is over protective to say the least. They tend to overdue it by a lot when we’re on the field, for example if I go down injured at all they swarm me, asking if I’m okay a million times and calling the medical staff over for the tiniest injuries.. Off the field is much the same, they wake me up at the same time every morning because

“Having a routine is important.” 

Christen has told me this a thousand times, doesn’t mean I like being woken up at 5:30 am everyday, off days included. (That is unless I’m sick, then they make me hate naps) Once I’m up they make me get dressed and they carry me down to the dining hall where all the food is set up. When they first started doing this I protested being carried, citing that I was a big girl and I had two legs that worked perfectly fine but, after a look from Ali and Ashlyn I just let it happen. The veterans of the team also stormed the coaching staff’s office demanding that they find a way to make breakfast available for me (and them) when I wake up. They didn’t do this to be snobby or high maintenance they say its because

“If don’t eat right away in the morning, you get grouchy.” 

I don’t, but they think I do so I just let them have it and eat by 6 everyday. 

I haven’t told the team that I have epilepsy because I don’t want to scare them or freak them out. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything it’s just that I don’t want them to feel like they have to worry about me even more than they already do.

“Hey Y/N! You in there?” Kelley asks appearing out of nowhere.

“What? Oh, sorry what’s up?”

“We just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the coffee shop around the corner with us.” 

She pointed to nearly half the team, including all the vets who were looking at me with concern written all over their faces.

“I think I’ll stay here, thanks anyways.”

“Are you sure? You love that place.” Kelley said frowning.

She was right, I had never turned down going there, especially with her. I wasn’t going to tell her this but I had forgot to take my seizure medicine so I need to stay back to take it before I forgot.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, well, we’ll bring you something back then.” 

“Y/N?” Christen grabbed my hand before I could start walking to the elevators to go back to my room.

“Yeah Chris?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just wanna make sure. You know, me and the other veterans wouldn’t mind staying with you. We could hang here and watch movies or play board games or if you want we could all lay down and nap together, I know how much you love the “Cuddle puddle” we create.”

“I’m okay, really. Go have fun with the others. I think I’m just gonna go read my book in my room.”

“Okay, see you later.”

She gave me a hug before leaving, I watched as she explained what we talked about to the other vets and I saw several of them turn back to look at me. I shrugged at them before turning on my heel and heading back to my room. 

Once there, I took my medicine out of its hiding place, making sure to take the right dosage I then put it back and make sure it would stay hidden. I had to hide it because the girls always double check my bag before we leave any where we’ve stayed to make sure I have all my stuff. It’s nice sometimes but it also can get a little annoying.

There was a sudden knock at my door making me jump a little. Who could that be? The players who stayed behind were those that loved to nap and or they didn’t like coffee and almost all of them needed to have there alone time so getting a visitor is rare. After looking through the peephole I saw it was my roommate and best friend Morgan.

“Hey Moe! I thought you went with the others?” I said as I let her in.

“I did but I forgot my sunglasses. Have you seen them?”

“Um, I think you left them on the bathroom sink.”

“Oh that’s right! Okay, well got ‘em! See you later.”

“See you.” 

After she left I was able to go back to reading my book, It was pretty peaceful and I had almost made it half way through when I stopped. The book fell out of my hands and onto the floor with a loud thud. 

My eyelids fluttered and my fingers twitched and then just like that it was over. They only last 10-20 seconds, which isn’t long at all but for me it often feels like hours before I am aware of my surroundings again. Okay, there’s one. Am I going to have more?

My medicine has reduced them but it doesn’t stop them completely and some days it doesn’t work at all. I would go to a doctor to fix the prescription but since I can’t drive and the girls don’t know I just leave it be. 

“Oh boy, today is gonna be a long day.” I say to no one but myself before I slowly stand up and go to the sink to splash water on my face. 

We have practice in 45 minutes and I know the girls will want me to be ready a few minutes early. After I take my time changing into my gear and double checking that I do indeed look okay I make my way down to the lobby so that I can get on the bus before everyone else. I choose to sit all the way in the back and put my earbuds in so they know I don’t want to be bothered. But it seems Megan didn’t get the memo because she sits down right next to me and yanks the earbud out of my ear, putting it in her own.

“Hey kid, where you been? We brought back your favorite drink but you weren’t in your room.”

“I’ve been here.” I say shortly

“Okay?”

“Sorry I’m just tired.”

“You should’ve taken a nap before practice Y/N. What have we told you about that?”

“That I get grouchy without one, I know.”

“Do you?” 

“Yes! I’m sorry, okay? I forgot, I’ll take one when we get back.”

“I’ll be having a discussion with Carli, Chris, Alex, and the others about what we can do to help you remember.” She said leaving no room for argument.

Ugh, I hate when they have “Veteran meetings” about me. After they’ve decided something, they sit me down and all crowd around me so that if I get upset, they can comfort me. 98% of the time whatever they tell me isn’t a big deal, like a curfew. I can deal with that or even an early bedtime when I get sick or injured. But I draw the line on some things.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Y/N.”

“Whatever.”

“Are we gonna have to talk about your attitude too?” 

“No. Sorry.”

“Mhm, what I thought.”

We finally arrived at the training facility we were practicing at this camp before our up coming international friendlies, and I grabbed my stuff and ran off the bus so I wouldn’t have to deal with Megan giving me the look anymore. 

“Y/N! Walk please!” I heard Alex shout from behind me but I ignored her.

Ali PRO//

“Okay is it just me or she acting weird?” I asked, concerned for our youngest teammate 

“Mmm, she’s just in a mood.” Megan said

“Okay, but she knows how we feel about her running anywhere that’s not the field, she’s the clumsiest kid we know. Plus, she always listens to me.” Alex said

She made a good point, she listened to all of us 9 times out of 10, some more than others but still. We all just stood there, letting the young players off first while we continued discussing our kid’s weird behavior.

“Hey guys?” 

“Yeah Ash?”

“What’s this?”

She held up a pill bottle that none of us had seen before. On it in big bold letters, was the name Y/N L/N and it was a medicine called Ethosuximide with the name (Zarontin) in parentheses. What the hell?

“What is that and why does she have it?” Christen asked angrily.

“I don’t know but I’m gonna find out right now.” Ashlyn said as she stomped off the bus.

“Ash, Ash hold on!” 

I stood in front of her trying to get her to stop walking.

“Why?”

“I know you, you aren’t going to let her explain and you’ll jump to conclusions.”

“What’s there to explain Ali? None of us have ever seen her take pills before and we all know she doesn’t have any medical conditions. We made Vlatko give us her file remember?”

“Yes but you should still let her explain.”

Ashyln was growing more upset and I was having a hard time keeping her at bay. As we got closer to the locker room the players who were already on the field or heading out attention was drawn to our argument. 

“Ash, cool it. Young ones in the vicinity.” Alex said referring to the “youngins” as Becky called them.

“I don’t care. I’m talking to her right now.”

There was nothing me, Alex or any of the other veterans could do to stop her from storming into the locker room.

“Y/N Y/M L/N!”

She came over to the front of the room quickly, startled and looking slightly terrified. She had yet to spot the pill bottle Ashyln was holding behind her back.

“Yeah Ash? What’s up?”

“ “What’s up?” she says. What’s up? That’s all you have to say?” Ashlyn had a bite to her tone that made me shiver. She can be mad intimidating when she wants to be. 

“Yes?”

“What’s up Y/N, is this.” 

As soon as she saw what she was holding all the color drained from Y/N’s face and I was afraid  she might faint. 

“Y/N… Sweetie, you’re okay. We’re just a little worried about you.” Chris said stepping forward and blocking her view of Ashlyn’s “Mean face” 

She tried to reach for Y/N but she turned away from her and made a move to leave.

“Uh you know, I really should get out on the field with the others. See you guys out there!”

Alex grabbed her around the waist and held her in her arms tightly so she couldn’t go anywhere. She tried to get her to let go but gave up when she realized Alex was too strong.

“Shhh, deep breaths. You’re okay. It’s just us. It’s okay.” Alex cooed softly in her ear.

I could tell that she was scared and was trying not to let her walls down.

“It-it’s not anything bad I swear!” 

“Really, then what is it?” 

“It’s just… can we just talk about it later? Please.”

“No, what is this and why do you have it?” 

“I- Please just let me go practice.”

“Y/N…”

“I have epilepsy, okay?! There, can I go practice please?”

She freed herself from Alex and ran out onto the field. We all chased after her and Christen tried to catch her but she was saved by the whistle.

“Ladies! Let’s go, stop messing around and get to work!” Dawn yelled, we knew it was directed at us.

After that we had no choice but to let it go and practice. We did the usual, stretching and warm up and then position group training, individual for some and scrimmages to end the session. Were half way through a scrimmage whenI noticed Y/N stop moving. It was like she was frozen, she wasn’t moving except for her arms that were jerking slightly and I could see her eyelids fluttering. She must be having a seizure. I thought. I rushed over to her stopping practice and tried everything to get her to snap out of it. Many of our teammates also tried to no avail and everyone was gathered around her unsure of what to do.

“Okay let’s give her some space.” Ashlyn said

I stayed close in case I had to prevent her from falling and hitting her head or needed to do anything else to help her.

She continued to seize, each one only lasted 10 seconds but she had 5 in a row and when those had stopped she only came to for a few seconds before she started to experience a second wave. In total she was unresponsive for almost a minute and half straight. Christen had put her arms on her shoulders, trying to let her know she was there.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re okay.”

“What do we do?”

“We just have to let her know we’re here.”

“What’s going on? Is she okay?”

Several of the younger players looked scared and unsure of what to do, so Tobin and Megan took them away from where Y/N was and tried to reassure them she was gonna be okay.

Y/N PRO//

Everything finally started to come back into focus and at this point I had been moved to the ground and I was sitting in Chris’s lap as she held me. When I was fully out of the state I had been in I started to try to push her away, I was disoriented and confused and I didn’t remember what I was doing here.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. Y/N you’re safe, it’s okay.” Becky said as I settled down and the rest of the team begin trying to help me.

Chris held me the whole time, cooing in my ear and trying to keep me calm. Everything was super loud and my mind and body had gone into sensory overload trying to come back to practice. When I realized what happened and I was able, I pushed my way out of Christen’s arms, and ran back to the locker room. After that I ignored everyone and their questions about what was going on. I was the first back on the bus and had planned to continue ignoring everyone. The Vets of the team had other ideas however and put an end to it quickly.

“You feeling better little one?”

“Yeah Al, I am.”

“That was really scary.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about babe. But can I ask you something?” Ali said

“Sure, shoot.”

“Did you take your medicine today?”

“Yeah, I did it just doesn’t work well.” I said timidly

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the right dosage, it just doesn’t work well enough most of the time.”

“Why didn’t you get it adjusted?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out about it.”

“That’s dangerous, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you were scared. We’ll take you to get it adjusted as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

When we got back to the hotel I dropped off my stuff and decided to go for a walk. I needed to think about some things, and I knew the girls wanted to have a more in depth talk about what happened but I wasn’t ready. Eventually though I made my way back to the room and when I opened the door my roommate was there to greet me.

“Hey babe! You came back to me!’ Moe said dramatically as I entered our room.

“I’ll always come back to you, baby.” I said jokingly

“You better. My life is so boring without you!”

“I am the life of the party I’ve been told.”

“Ha ha, If anyone is the life of the party its Crystal. Girl can dance.”

“Definitely.”

“Have you talked to the others since we got back?”

“Uhh... no. I’m sorta avoiding them.” I said rubbing the back of my neck.

“You know that they’ll want to talk to you about it eventually right? I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

I was unsure of what to do because I didn’t really want to talk to them about it but I knew I had to. After another hour of avoiding it, I got up and made my way to Alex’s room. I knocked on the door timidly and waited for it to open.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just was wondering if I could talk to you all?” I said as I saw almost all the older players in her room.

“Of course.”

We got to talking about what happened and I told them about the condition I had and when it first appeared and all the while Alex held me in her lap, cooing in my ear when I would start to get emotional and the others sat around us doing there best to let me know they were there.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Ashlyn asked 

“I was just afraid.”

“You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell us these things. I’m sorry you felt the need to hide it from us.” JJ said.

“I know today was scary for everyone. I think I should tell the whole team everything soon.”

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t feel like you have to, if you’re not ready that’s okay too.”

“I am, it’s okay. Will you guys be there?”

“Of course, always.”

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

I knew that some of them were still a little hurt that I hadn’t told them sooner or they felt bad because they weren’t able to protect me but I knew we would be okay.

we agreed to be more honest with each other going forward and When it came time for me to tell the entire team the older players were there to support me and help me explain everything. They were all super supportive and assured me that they didn’t see me any differently.

After our heart to heart we decided to do some much needed team bonding.

Rose showed me a Tick tok of a bulldog trying to reach a cake that was just out of its reach and failing (or succeeding) spectacularly as it splattered in the floor.

“Wilma would totally do this!” I said laughing at the thought of Rose’s dog doing something similar.

“She totally would but I would give her a hand.” Rose giggled.

Kelley succeeded in putting a cup on her head with only her feet and I was in awe of her flexibility. I attempted to do the same but I failed miserably and pouted as everyone laughed at me.

“Good try kid. You’ll get it eventually.” Kel said.

We ended up playing cup pong (the clean version), Jenga, Sorry, Truth or Dare, and twister. We also tried playing hide and seek through out the hotel but we got in trouble with the managerial staff and almost got the whole team kicked out. Let’s just say that Vlatko was not too pleased… 

Sam, Rose, Sonnett, Lindsey and Mal choreographed a new dance and performed it for everyone. We all watched for over an hour as these knuckleheads tried to get it all down perfectly.

“Oh my god you guys, try again tomorrow when you actually know the dance.” Tobin said exasperated

“No, no we can do this. Right guys?” 

“Yes we can.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Just give us a minute.”

“We got this.”

We watched on as they tried and failed to prove that they had it, but we all gave them an A+ for effort anyways.

“We would have gotten it, if you guys had just been patient enough.” Sam grumbled.

“We watched for over an hour, you know this team, they can’t sit still forever.” I giggled.

“I guess you’ve got a point.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! We’re not that bad at sitting still.” Kelley protested.

“Uh, yeah Kel. We are.”

The whole team giggled at that and agreed that together asking us to sit still for long periods was useless.

After that we made pies and cupcakes and they were actually really good, but things took a turn when I decided to smash Ali’s face in a pie. She then chased me down the hall trying to get me back.

“Y/N, get back here!”

“Becky! Save me!”

“No way kid. Not trying to get punched.” She said before she closed her door.

“Traitor!” I yelled as I continued to run from a pissed off Ali Krieger. 

She eventually caught up to me and attacked me with kisses and tickles. I ended up covered head to toe in pie filling after she got hers all over me and then found another one and got revenge.

“Aw man, you got me.” I said as I giggled wildly as she tickled me some more.

“This whole team loves you so much. You know that right?” Alex would later tell me that night as we all snuggled on the two beds in the room I shared with Morgan. 

“Yeah, I know. I love you guys too.” 

They drive me nuts with the constant hovering and weird, silly rules they make me follow but I am so grateful to have them in my life and to have such an amazing group of friends who love and support me no matter what. Me and my 23 best friends are family for life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

//

THE END

If I got anything wrong, I’m so sorry. I did the best research that I could. Sorry for any mistakes.

-N

[ohmylove--mydarling]

It’s true what they say about your early-to-mid 20s. This particular span of ten blissful, wanton years is the only time in your entire life where you will ever feel truly invincible. And yes, you absolutely better enjoy it while it lasts. Lithe-bodied, hopeful, capable of both pounding an entire handle of rail vodka all while making it to your 8 am sociology class the next day, they’re a little like your teen years, with one prized difference. Your early-to-mid 20s are blessed with the seemingly novel, universe-bending element of freedom.

And freedom doesn’t simply mean the ability to make stupid decisions without the fear of getting grounded. It also means the freedom to live in an idyllic sort of vacuum, where you’re surrounded by friends – if we’re being honest, the family you get to choose – and cradled in this serene philosophy, this security blanket of an idea that hangs in the air but is never outwardly or directly expressed, that this, all of this, will last forever. That these people will always be there, they will always be around, floating with you in this bubble, as free and easily accessible as a coatrack or your neighbor’s WiFi. Always holding your beer, always holding your hair back (while you puke, or maybe while you cry), always holding your hand. Always at the very least in the peripheral, if not the forefront, of your vision.

During these years you know everything, and yet somehow you know nothing at all.

***

Like most of the sorority sisters I grew close with – and as is probably true with anyone else who pledged a very tiny chapter at an equally tiny school – I don’t remember much about how I met Taylor beyond the first night she “rushed.” Rush is an interesting social phenomenon, for multiple reasons. Picture a gaggle of young college-aged women who typically spend every waking hour of their day primping and glossing and adjusting for the sole purpose of the male gaze. Except this time, their attention is entirely drawn to a smaller group of girls (not that much smaller of a group, if we’re lucky this semester) that they want to impress instead. A frenzy of compliments and genuine interest, a dormant volcano of estrogen and hot girl energy and reciprocation, madly overflowing in a span of two hours over something as innocuous as an ice cream social or tie-dying a pile of crewneck t-shirts (I think we did the “hippie” recruitment theme every other semester). It is one of the very best parts of what is an often problematic-at-best Greek culture, and this rush was no different.

I’m not sure what my first impression of Taylor was, other than that we obviously had the same first name, and oh yeah, she was beautiful– effortlessly pretty but not the least intimidating. I could approach her and talk to her and not feel like a complete toad. She was a little soft-spoken, incredibly polite. I think she wore navy blue. And an aura of genuine kindness seemed to radiate from her with the soft glow of candlelight.

After rush ended and Taylor chose to join our ranks, where she belonged, it felt like she had been in my life from the very beginning. And, though this idea was never spoken, it felt like she would never leave.

***

In a sorority, there is sometimes a tendency, however unintentional, to categorize your sisters, and to turn to certain ones for different needs at different times. There’s the sister you study with, the sister you go on your morning run with, the sister(s) you are always down to party with. There’s the sister who makes amazing grilled cheese, the sister whose dorm is the only place you’ll binge-watch Supernatural. When you’re riding the waves of a breakup, you got mad options: There’s the sister who brushes your hair as you ugly-cry and choke on your own snot, the sister who pledges to hook you up with her brother’s hot friend the moment you’re ready for a rebound, the “dump him sis” sister who yanks your phone out of your hand in the middle of what is probably a very unwise text and threatens to stab him with her eyebrow razor if he so much as looks at you again, the sister who makes you forget the whole thing ever happened, that it ever even mattered.

There’s the maid of honor sister, the future fun wine-aunt sister, the sister you have on speed-dial even though speed-dial isn’t a thing anymore. There are the sisters who teach you how to do winged liner, how to hide a hickey with coral lipstick and concealer, how to chant, how to chug, how to memorize the Greek alphabet and the …numbers (at least for the ones who are most definitely going to ask). There are the sisters whose weddings you bawl at, whose babies you hold and immediately love as an extension of the incredible mother who brought them into this world.

And there are the sisters who teach you grace and humility, strength and resilience, kindness and self-love. The sisters who changed your life for the better the moment they put on your letters, the sisters who hand you the mirror and force you to see yourself just as they see you.

The thing about Taylor was that she was all of these. The whole package. Everything good, all in one.

***

Though our friendship was at its strongest during my college and immediate post-college years, Taylor remained a calming, grounding presence in my life. She married an incredible man who loved her for all the reasons we did and plenty more, and I went to her wedding and cried. She got a job as a nurse at the local hospice, a profession she seemed put on this earth to do. I could picture Taylor in her element there, literally surrounded by an entire ocean of grief, serving as an island of hope, a beacon of light and love for those who so desperately needed all those things, the things she provided us without question even when our lives were comfortable. Soon after – and this thought still makes something in my throat ache – she brought life into this world, a beautiful daughter with both her mother’s eyes and her genuine love and gratitude for life, a joyful curiosity coloring everything she did.

Taylor’s life, we knew, was finally the one she had always deserved.

***

I won’t, and can’t anyway, get into the details of Taylor’s passing. I can say that nothing about it was expected and literally every detail about it is horrific. Personally, it feels like a robbery, like something was taken from me; but on a grander scale, on a scale that actually matters, it is simply heartbreak. Riding the waves of grief not only for my own loss, but for a husband, a child, a family, a community whose lives were upended and whose hearts were crushed by something that simply should not have happened in a universe where they say justice and kindness exist.

Frankly, this grief is unlike any other I have experienced. It has a way of blanketing everything around me, like mosquito netting. It is as thick and choking as a cloud of black smoke, permeating my clothes, filling my lungs, making it impossible to see, so all I can do is desperately cling to whatever gives me the slightest amount of peace, no matter how fleeting. As someone who has always struggled with my faith (and moments like these certainly do not help), I try to remember Taylor’s. It brought her comfort and strength, the belief that God loves everyone so naturally she was going to love everyone, too. And all I can hope is that this belief of hers, this faith, manifested in her final moments. That there was a light, a voice, a presence, something there that reminded her that she was loved. That we knew she loved us, that her family will never be alone, that we will desperately miss her. That her legacy is as wide and expansive as all the oceans.

Her funeral is in a few days. Her funeral, a concept still as foreign as my own.

***

At this point it’s probably clear, but the things I want people to remember the most about Taylor are, quite simply, her kindness and her intrinsic ability to love. She was kind without questioning. She loved without strings or conditions, tirelessly and endlessly. At a time when an icy, impenetrable layer of cynicism seemed to blanket so many of our hearts – including my own – Taylor managed to crack it a little, to let just enough of her light and her warmth in to make a change.

I teased her often – probably too often –  for her unbreakable habit of bringing home literally any stray cat she ever found (and then naming it something either really cute or painfully dumb, like “Moe” or “Cheese”). But even as someone who unapologetically hates cats, and more honestly as someone who spent most of her 20s thinking that if I hardened my exterior and never let love in I was somehow protecting everything it surrounded, I viewed this habit through a secret lens of adoration. I adored Taylor’s heart. I hoped to absorb some of it, its ability to love everything, to find beauty in the darkest and loneliest spaces and to also force people to see it and feel it for themselves.

I felt Taylor was going to be around forever. It was a selfish thought. I hadn’t physically seen her in over a year (there was a pandemic and she was a nurse and I was subsumed by my own now meaningless world). I am filled with an omnipresent regret that I have no control over. I miss her so much my heart feels swollen and achy with a pining, a real grief.

There is no happy ending to this, no concise, comfortable, heartwarming way to wrap this all up in a pretty package, though Taylor was the type to want everything to have a good ending. So instead I cling to the memories, the photographs. Our banquets, homecoming, Lana del Rey, cherry blossoms. The way she rapped that entire A$AP Ferg verse one night. The way she looked in her wedding gown. The way she talked about charity and good deeds. The way she talked about God. Her love, no matter what transgression I made or no matter if I failed to give it back. I hope to love harder now, and if I can, it’s because Taylor taught me how.

I love you, Taylor. DZLAM.

[randomikemendegen]

Do your ocs have a type when it comes to a s/o? Especially shir-kani in behalf of his fanclub

Quin’s type:

One the traits he’d like in someone is that they who won’t rush or cram too many things because to be frank, Quin is TIRED enough already in rushing too many things nearly everyday. He doesn’t want to also rush getting into a relationship. Though, just for them, he won’t complain in the slightest, not even in his head.

His type is someone who’s a lot more confident and positive-thinking than himself though not to the point of stupidity, although that too is charming in its own way a bit Quin also likes someone who will absolutely go for anything they want damned be the consequences since he used to be just like that when he was little though he then quickly panics a bit and tries to (failingly) persuade them to back out of it if it seems like too much trouble or they could get in danger.

If his S/O is a book lover/nerd/interested in magical beasts then you can bet this boy is instantly over the moon and is 101% thrilled to read books with them or tell them about all the various stories of yore, ancient magical creatures, etc. etc.

Sei’s type:

Someone cute, small, and soft is his preferred type. No, it’s not because he wants to easily monopolize them, rather, it’s because Sei is actually SCARED that he might end up losing them as well one day that this is the type of person he’s trying to find as his S/O since it’s easier to keep an eye out for someone with this description. Sure, while he loves a good game of hide and seek on the occasion, he doesn’t want his S/O out of sights for too long because he steadily gets anxious and fearful of potentially losing them.

An S/O with an aversion to conflict quickly pulls him in, and he doesn’t mind being their support all the time. He wants someone to always stay by his side no matter what may happen or whatever he says or does because he just wants reassurance that they won’t go anywhere and won’t leave him.

Sei feels drawn to people with a gentle heart while also being courageous but not stupid and knows what they’re doing. If they’re somewhat innocent then he feels inclined to keep them that way so that he doesn’t have to see them break down and lose themselves.

Lala’s type:

Someone strong. Like, physically strong. Someone who can hold their own in a fight will make her heart swell with pride, even more so if they win… which leads to her more often than not challenging them on occasion. They could also be someone who looks really tough on the outside, but v soft on the inside

Thoouuuggghhh—… her other type could also be someone who’s actually not physically strong but they’re incredibly nice and kindhearted. Sure, those types of people make her sick to the stomach due to how disgustingly nice they are, but she can’t help but be drawn to them all the same.

It’s fine too if they’re not particularly bright since she herself has braincells, even if she doesn’t use them all the time. Either way, she’d fight everyone if it meant protecting the one thing she wants to keep close.

Ophiou’s type:

He would like an angel. Please. Though because this isn’t a fairytale and he’s a monster, he doesn’t have high hopes at all hahaha—

The type of S/O Ophi is looking for is someone who’s very kindhearted and nice despite his initial harsh and distant words- they’d have to persistently try to get close to him because it won’t be easy to take down all his emotional walls and awkwardness. He doesn’t give a shit as to what race his S/O might be since all that matters to him is how the other person feels.

Because he is a soft guy at heart, he gets mushy if his S/O is the type of person who showers their lover with affection and is easily set flustered when they’re teasing him despite his usually quick recoil words.

Cirnu’s type:

THE DAD FIGURE TO HER MOM FIGURE- THE BIG BROTHER FIGURE TO HER BIG SISTER FIGURE—//shot

Okay in all seriousness, she only wants [a good man]. By that I mean, she wants someone who is kind to others but isn’t a total pushover and knows when to be strict when they need to be. Someone who doesn’t like violence or fighting, but will be the first to engage in it if it meant protecting others and those they care about. Of course, flaws are inevitable and thus when things are too much for them to handle then she’ll be there for them and support them through and through. Someone romantic, but keeps things simple and personal (except for the occasional grand gestures, but only rarely).

She doesn’t mind a height difference really, but if her S/O is shorter than her then she can’t help but feel like lightheartedly teasing them just a little bit.

Bel’s type:

He’s not really looking for romance though it doesn’t mean that he hasn’t given it a single thought at least once. Though the first thing he wants in a potential S/O is someone who doesn’t buy all the shit that he says and is quite persistent, that or someone whom he’s known for a long long while now preferably long ago in the past.

Bel’s type of S/O is someone who is very independent, truly sincere, and quiet but not too quiet since it would remind him too much of a doll, he doesn’t mind them speaking a lot just so long as they don’t constantly shout or yell- they’re completely honest about everything they say (though he’s still panicking on the inside about whether or not they’re lying and can’t help but try to analyze and use his natural internal skepticism out of paranoia). If they’re a bit shy or have gap moe then prepare yourself for being teased, Bel won’t stop until you’re completely red in the face.

He’d also like someone who doesn’t take shit from other people and WILL have a good comeback at the aggressor, though if he sees that it’s actually having an effect on his S/O then Bel himself will do something about it. No one hurts the only person whom he genuinely cares about in the entire world and gets away scot-free.

Fuyu’s type:

Due to her complete inexperience with emotions and feelings, she herself isn’t sure about what an “S/O” is, and considering that she’s never felt or experienced love, she herself doesn’t know what it means to WANT a lover/partner.

Although if pressed for details persistently, then she might reply with “Someone “humane”… a person who’s liked by others and knows what they want.” Essentially, the type of person she’s looking for is someone open with others, confident, has flaws but doesn’t let themselves be taken over or swallowed by it (tho if they’re actually just really good at hiding it then it’s fine; she’ll still stay by their side and hold their hand or hug them).

Fuyu finds herself attracted to those who are true to themselves while remaining nice to other people, and if it’s just an act then she finds herself all the more curious about what is up with them and why they’re acting like this.

Shir’s type:

The type of person that he would fall for is someone strong— no, they don’t have to be physically strong, but rather, someone who won’t let themselves get beaten down so easily by others and will get right back up if they do tumble. Shir respects those types of people and can’t help but be drawn in by them.  If they’re a bit too feisty then he’ll act as their self-restraint and quickly try to pull them out of that situation before they get hurt.

He doesn’t mind them being independent, actually, he encourages their independence, though he does feel the need to protect and keep them safe every so often. If his S/O is prone to having problems with anything then he’ll sit down with them and have a personal but also deep talk with them in order to get the bottom of it, since he doesn’t want to see them hurting for any longer.

Are you short or tall? That’s okay because it doesn’t matter! If his S/O is short then he becomes all the more protective and clingy over them but won’t undermine their authority, and if his S/O is tall then he feels all the more reassured that they can handle themselves on their own (tho if they’re taller than him then he laughs about how knowing how Lala feels now)

[nothingeverlost]

Henry Gold (10/?)

Summary: Regina asked for Gold’s help in procuring a child, but when he held the wee boy in his arms he couldn’t give the child up.  Ten years later it’s Henry Gold who arrives in Boston, looking for Emma.

This chapter: A thief, punishment, ice cream, and a story of tragic love.  AKA The Skin Deep chapter.

It’s a monster at almost 11,000 words.

TW for mentions of suicide and for violence.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 /  Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

II

Gold was not the most popular person in town.  It had taken Emma less than a day to see that.  With few exceptions people seemed to avoid him unless they had dealings with him.  It was strange, really, how many people in town seemed to have dealings with a pawnbroker.  Those that interacted with him willingly seemed to do so for Henry.  After a couple of months in town she still wasn’t sure there was anyone she’d call Gold’s friend.  He’d visited someone named Jefferson a few times, but Emma hadn’t met him yet.  

She wasn’t used to seeing people yell at Gold, though.  She was on her way to the diner when she saw him crossing the street, a red-faced angry man shouting out that Gold was ‘the lowest’ and wasn’t going to get away with it.  Emma hadn’t noticed him before but she’d hardly met everyone in town.

“Isn’t that Dove driving away in the florist van?”  Emma jogged to catch up with him.  She’d met Dove a few times, and knew that he worked for Gold in some capacity.  Henry had a wooden unicorn in his room he said Dove had made for him.

 “It’s being repossessed.  French is months behind in his payments.”  Gold ignored the man still shouting.  Ignored the mayor walking their direction as well, ducking into the shop the moment he had the door opened.  Emma followed.

“You lent him money?”  There was a bank in town.  She knew that because her paychecks were direct deposited.  Filling out the paperwork had been the first time she’d used Gold’s address as her home.

“I run a pawn shop, Emma.  I lend money to a great many people.  French is simply one of them.”  Gold’s hands tightened a little when he said French’s name.  It was a small thing, but Emma noticed it out of the corner of her eye.  Money didn’t seem to phase him; she doubted he was bothered by a default on a loan.  French meant something to him.

“What are you going to do with the van?  It’s not exactly going to fit in one of the window displays.”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug.  “However if you know anyone that is in need of roses let me know.  I apparently have acquired a few.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  She wasn’t about to tell Mary Margaret.  She might get ideas, and David getting flowers delivered would not go over well at home.  “I’m going to get a coffee across the street.  Can I get you anything?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.  I’ll see you this evening.”  Without another word he vanished through the curtain to his office.  Emma left him alone, crossing the street to Granny’s.  She was unsurprised to find that David and Mary Margaret were in tables right next to each other.  

“Hey David, did you find a home for the kittens yet?”  After the storm Graham had found three abandoned kittens and after ascertaining that their mother wasn’t coming back he’d taken them to a shelter.

“Believe it or not a woman with triplet daughters came in yesterday and adopted them.  They’re going to be a birthday surprise.”  David’s grin was enthusiastic; it was impossible not to smile back at him.  Mary Margaret kept smiling at him until Emma coughed to get her attention.

“Good morning.”  

“Morning Emma.”  Mary Margaret had barely greeted her when Ruby brought over her coffee.  She put in her order of two muffins to go.

“I’m still getting to know everyone around here.  Do you by chance know anyone named French?”  Emma made sure to make it sound like a casual query.

“The florist’s name is Moe French.  I don’t think there’s anyone else in town with the name.  His place is over on Franklin.”

“He doesn’t have any family?”  It seemed kind of sad, to sell flowers to other people and have no one to bring them home to.

“I don’t remember hearing anything about a family.  He’s from Australia, so maybe he still has some back there?”  Mary Margaret’s attention wavered.  “Ashley is here with the baby.  She looks exhausted.”

Emma looked over her shoulder; she hadn’t seen Ashley since the hospital.  Sure enough it was her, pushing a stroller.  If anyone had ever needed coffee it was her.  Could you drink coffee when you were breastfeeding?  Was Ashley the type to breastfeed?  Emma didn’t have a clue.  She’d only had milk for a couple of days before it had thankfully dried up.  “Hey Ashley, how’s it going?”

“I don’t know.  The baby’s great, I love her so much, but between Sean working doubles and the baby not sleeping I haven’t had a break since I got home from the hospital.  We haven’t even had time to talk about our relationship.  He said he wants to get married but we haven’t had time to plan anything.”  Ashley collapsed into the chair David had just vacated.  “I had to get out of the house.  I don’t even know if I’m hungry.”

“You need a night out.”  Ruby apparently didn’t have any questions about if Ashley was drinking coffee.  She brought over a mug and put it in front of the blond.  “Leave the baby with Sean and we can have drinks.  Mary Margaret you could use a girls-only night, couldn’t you?  And Emma, you should totally come too.  Leave the badge at home, though.”

“Yeah, sure.”  It wouldn’t hurt to get to know people better.  It would be nice for Gold and Henry to have some time on their own too.  They didn’t need her in their space all the time.  

“Where should we…”  The ringing of her phone interrupted her question.  Since it was Graham she answered.  “Hey.”

“I just got a call from a woman named Kravitz about a disturbance next door to her.  She heard loud noises and the front door was left open.  Emma, it’s Gold’s house.”

“Crap.  I’ll go check on it.  I’ll call and let you know what’s up.”  She shoved her phone into her pocket and pushed away from the table.  The coffee was too hot for a quick gulp before she left.  She was going to miss the caffeine.

“Emma?”  Mary Margaret asked.

“Sorry, work.”  She ran out of the diner, hoping that when she got to Gold’s house it was nothing more than a prank or someone’s overactive imagination.  It helped a little, knowing that Henry was already on his way to school and Gold was at work.  But only a little.

II

Someone had broken into his home.  More importantly someone had broken into his son’s home, the place where Henry should be completely safe.  The door was ajar, just as his usually annoying but sometimes handy neighbor had informed him.  As he stepped inside he withdrew the gun he’d brought with him from the shop; he wasn’t taking any chances that someone was still around.  The first damage he saw as he rounded a corner was the smashed glass over a picture of himself and Henry from last Christmas.  Tables were overturned, things missing, but it was the empty display case that told him everything he needed to know.

Moe French was going to suffer.

When he heard a sound he turned, gun raised, and found himself facing Emma.

“You have a gun?” she asked, staring at him.

“As do you.”  He lowered his, slipping it back into the pocket of his coat after confirming the safety was on.  “I assure you it’s registered.  I keep it at the shop.”

“What happened here?”  She lowered her own, but kept it in hand as she took in the destruction around them.  “Son of a bitch.”

“It appears we’ve been robbed.  I haven’t gotten any farther in the house.  If you wouldn’t mind checking upstairs I’d appreciate it.  The sooner you do whatever you have to do legally the sooner we can get this cleaned up.  I’d rather Henry didn’t have to see it.”  He looked at the smashed photo and tightened his hand into a fist.  Bastard.

“Do you know who might have done this?”  Emma asked as she walked around broken glass.

“I haven’t a clue,” he lied.  If Emma was focused on the case she’d be less likely to get in his way.  He was going to take care of Moe French on his own.  They had things to settle between them, things that had already waited far too long.  Decades too long.

“This morning with Mr. French…”

“He’s a florist and it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.  What would he have to gain from this?  If he were to steal anything it would make the most sense to try and reclaim his van, not a few trinkets from my home.”  They were, of course, more than trinkets.  Not including the sentimental value of what was stolen, the antiques from this world and another were worth thousands.  Emma was too clever for his own good.  At least she would have no reason to suspect that Moe’s actions were aided by Regina.  He could see her fingerprints over the whole thing.  Only she knew his history and could possibly know the importance of one single teacup.

“I’ll check the rest of the house and then we can head for the station.  I need you to file a report so we know exactly what we’re looking for.”

“Emma.”  He stopped her before she headed for the stairs.  “Unless it’s necessary I’d rather Henry didn’t know.  There’s no reason for him to worry.”

“As long as this looks like it’s a one time only thing I won’t say a word,” she promised.

“It won’t be repeated,” Gold muttered under his breath.  It was a promise too.

II

“I know Gold said there’s no point looking at Moe French, but I think we have to look at him.  He sounded pretty angry this morning when Gold repossessed his van.  Is there anyone else you know that might have a reason not just to steal, but to trash the place?”  Fortunately the thief didn’t have the time or the desire to go upstairs, and the bedrooms were untouched.  It seemed odd to her that most of the house was untouched, not that she was complaining.  There wouldn’t be much to clean up and if they were lucky Henry wouldn’t have to deal with the worry and fear of knowing someone had broken into the house.

“Regina hates him, but she’s not into larceny as far as I know.  Most people around here aren’t stupid enough to try something like this, especially considering he’s the landlord for half the town.”  

“So what do we know about Moe French?  Is he…”  Emma froze when she reached her desk and found a bouquet of wildflowers in a vase. Next to the flowers was a donut, chocolate glazed but covered in red and pink sprinkles.  

“I know roses are more traditional but I’ve never been one for cultivated flowers and we’re not exactly traditional so far.  I didn’t know we’d have a case when I put them there, and I thought about moving them considering but even if we can’t do dinner tomorrow I wanted you to have flowers today.”

“Dinner?”  Emma was still stuck on the fact that he’d gotten her flowers.  From the looks of them he’d probably gone out and picked them himself.

“I thought we could try this thing I’ve heard of, they call it a date.  Sometimes it involves this thing called dinner.  It might even include this other thing called kissing.”  He wasn’t quite laughing but she could see it was close to happening.

“You’re such a dork.” Emma laughed because it was the easiest reaction.  Though they’d been taking things slow for more than one reason, Emma had expected a date at some point in the not too distant future.  When she hadn’t expected was Valentine’s Day.  No matter how much she told herself it was a day like any other it meant something.  She’d never had a date on Valentine’s Day.  It wasn’t a day you picked for a casual thing, and that’s all she’d had except for Neal.  They hadn’t been together in February; they met in the spring and by the following year she was pregnant and alone.  

“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”  Graham was too damn observant and she’d been quiet for longer than she’d meant.  His hand on her cheek was warm; it wasn’t at all the way a sheriff should be touching his deputy but they were way past professional boundaries. “We can have dinner another time instead.”

“No.”  Emma shook her head.  This was Storybrooke, a place for new beginnings.  “I have the perfect dress for dinner on Valentine’s Day.  It’s red, sexy, and way easier to wear when I don’t have to worry about chasing someone in heels.”

“I promise I have no plans to run anywhere.”  His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth before he pulled away.  “I do, however, have a lot of incentive to find stolen property today so it’s wrapped up before tomorrow.  Why don’t we start with French’s flower shop?”

“Okay, but I’m not buying you any roses.”

II

Emma frowned at the loot laid out on one of the spare desks in the office.  She should be feeling better; she wasn’t even at the end of her shift and she had Gold’s stolen property back.  It certainly looked like his stuff; little statues she might call paperweights that were probably worth more than her car,  a stack of plates and three teacups, none of them the same pattern, a tapestry that might look better if it was washed, a silver tray, a wooden box.  

Something felt wrong.  She and Graham had found the stolen goods in the backroom at Game of Thorns.  It was too easy.  Nothing was hidden, but was laid out on a table as if displayed almost.  Maybe that was what bothered her.  Or maybe it was how deliberately Gold had tried to convince her that French wasn’t worth considering as a suspect.  She needed answers.

Graham was still looking for French.  She was waiting for Gold to show up.  She didn’t have long to wait; ten minutes after she called him he was striding into the station.  “Apparently your pal Moe was capable of more than you thought.”

Gold barely acknowledged her, his attention on the recovered items.  It was strange; for all that his house was cluttered he didn’t seem particularly invested in things.  When Henry had broken a china plate a few weeks ago he had only shrugged and cautioned his son not to touch any shards.  He didn’t brag about his art unless it was something Henry drew.  It never bothered him if his ties got dirty while cooking or playing.  Something about this theft, though, had him more upset than she’d seen him ever, except the day that Henry had been missing.

“Gold?”  She gave him a couple of minutes to look, but if his jaw tensed any more she didn’t know what was going to happen.  Nothing good.

“It’s not here.”  He dismissed everything on the desk curtly.

“What do you mean?  These things are yours, aren’t they?  The black lion thing is familiar, and the vase.  The cups…”

“Something is missing.”  He sounded certain.  Emma wasn’t sure how he could tell, from the mess at home, just what was missing.

“There’s a lot of things here.”  Maybe she should pick up a few of them and see if moving them around helped.  After all he hadn’t touched them.

“And none of them matter.  Where is Mr. French?”

“Graham is looking for him.  If something is missing we’ll find it, Gold.  I promise.”  She’d always prided herself on her job.  There weren’t a lot of things she was good at, but finding things was one of them.  Knowing when people were lying was another, and Gold wasn’t lying.  He was certain something was missing, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to say what.

“Not if I find it first.”  Emma looked up, staring at him sharply.  That sounded a hell of a lot like a threat.

“Gold, when you said you didn’t think French would steal from you…”  He had tried to distract her when she’d asked him about French.  He hadn’t ever outright denied that the florist could have been the thief.  She realized that now.

“He wouldn’t, not unless someone else put the idea into his head.”  He half-turned as if he was leaving.  The whole time he’d been in the station he’d barely looked at her.  It felt almost as if he was a stranger, rather than someone he’d lived with for the last four months.

“Who would do that?”  It wasn’t a guess.  He knew more than he was saying.  

“Henry’s going to be home soon, and I’d like to be there.  I’ll see you this evening.”  he acted as if he hadn’t heard her question.  

“Gold.”  It was too late.  He was gone.

II

He barely slept, watching the sun rise from his bed before giving up on the idea of more than a few restless hours.  Moe French was hiding in some hole where the Sheriff didn’t know to find him.  Gold wondered if it was self-preservation that had him cowering like a rat, or if he was simply celebrating his victory of stealing from the town bastard and lucky enough to escape Graham’s notice.

His luck wouldn’t last long.

The front parlor was restored; if one didn’t know to look for things that were currently being held at the sheriff’s station they wouldn’t know anything was missing.  Henry hadn’t noticed the absence of bric-a-brac that didn’t usually catch his attention, and the one broken picture was tucked away until a new piece of glass could be purchased.  Neither Emma nor Henry had commented on the empty display case.  Gold had been careful not to look at it when either of them were around.  After both were asleep he’d stared at it for more than an hour.

He would get his cup back, and someone would pay for the temporary loss of it.  It was the only thing he had of his Belle.

“So just how much candy do you think Henry’s going to eat today?”  Emma asked as she joined him in the kitchen.  He hadn’t realized how long he’d been sitting there, the cold cup of tea in front of him in an annoyingly chip free cup.

“The rule in his classroom is that you bring a Valentine for everyone in the class or none at all.  So unfortunately I think the answer is quite a lot.”  If only that was his main concern tonight.  “I have a meeting tonight.  Will you be home before six-thirty?”

“I, uh…”  Emma uncharacteristically looked away. “I have a date.”

“Well well.  The sheriff, I assume?”  It took him a moment to react, to pull on a mask and play at the banter that would usually come so easily.  He was honestly happy for her, and if it came to it for the sheriff as well.  He was a good man, too long a prisoner of the queen.  They both deserved the happiness that he never expected to have.

“Yeah.  We’re, I don’t know, doing dinner or something.  If nothing comes up.”  She frowned.  “It could wait, though, if you need me to watch Henry.”

“I’m certain Ms. Lucas doesn’t have plans for the evening.  She’s always glad to spend time with Henry.  You go on your date.”  He had things to do, but he forced himself to take a breath and slow down.  Emma was important because of Henry and the curse, but she was important as herself as well.  Perhaps in the beginning he had only cared because she was useful, but she’d become a friend in her own right.  “Don’t let the paper cupids and heart decorations seem more important than they are.  It’s just a day.  When other people make a lot of it there can be pressure, but tonight should simply be about the two of you being able to talk to each other.  To share stories that get missed when daily routine and work get in the way.  Just focus on that and don’t think about the rest.”

“Yeah, okay.  Thanks.”  She smiled a little, still restless but hopefully feeling better.  Gold nodded and returned his focus to the tea he was making.  He honestly hoped for the best for Emma’s date, but mostly he was glad it meant the only law in town would be nicely distracted tonight.  

II

Gold would have preferred to make his purchases with no one around.  Mr. Clark, he knew, wouldn’t say anything.  The man wasn’t very smart in any realm, but he was smart enough not to make any comments.  David was a less certain element.  In another time and place he would have been full of questions.  Somehow the prince had always been able to get him talk about things he never had any intention of talking about.  He’d actually confided in Charming more than once despite himself.  Perhaps it had something to do with the fraternity of men who raised sheep.  

He didn’t seem to be quite so curious here.  Nolan, as he was apparently known in this world, didn’t ask about the rope and tape.  He seemed more distracted by the cards in his hand.  Two of them, for two very different women.  Not surprising.  

“Couldn’t make up your mind?”  He couldn’t resist commenting on the cards; each one for a wife, though he didn’t know it.  It amused him that one featured a castle that might be a cartoonist’s drawing of David’s home.

“They’re both so us.”  The prince hesitated slightly.  He’d had time to settle into his life since waking up, but he knew from a few comments Emma had made and his own observations that his interest in Mary Margaret hadn’t dimmed since the day they ‘met.’

“You’re lucky to have someone that loves you so much.”  Kathryn, of course, was under a spell but Snow White’s love was strong enough to battle a curse.  He was certain that Regina was raging over the rumors of the two.

“I’m lucky for a lot of reasons.”  Gold had to smile at the sentiment coming from the recent coma patient.  He didn’t know how lucky he really was, to be not only alive but awake.  To have his love so very close.  And his daughter as well.  Gold almost laughed when it occurred to him that Henry was the grandson of the princeling behind him in line.  Henry could do worse than having Charming as a grandfather.

“Love is like a delicate flame. And once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.”  They’d spoken of lost love once before, when the pain was more raw but no less intense.  Just as then he knew that Charming, at least, still had a chance.  “Cherish what you have.”

Gold carried his purchases out to the parking lot, where the garishly painted van waited for him.  He had some hunting to do.

I

Emma was really glad both Gold and Henry had left for the evening when she came down the stairs.  She was nervous enough without any comments about her dress or questions about where they were going.  She liked Graham.  Really liked him.  She couldn’t remember when she liked someone so much, which was a lie but one she could live with.  Honestly it might be easier if she didn’t care so much.  Graham’s friendship and their working relationship meant too much to her to screw it up, and once dating and sex came into the picture she always screwed things up.

And that wasn’t even taking into account his recent dating past and near-fatal heart attack.

Was it too late to cancel?  She’d half convinced herself to head upstairs and change when a knock on the door stopped her.  Too late.  She opened the door to find Graham standing on the front porch, wearing a suit of light gray, his top button undone and no tie in sight.  He held a small stuffed wolf.

“Wow.”  It was the first thing he said, and certainly not the worst reaction.  She knew the red dress fit her well, and it certainly wasn’t like anything he’d seen her in.

“Is that for me?”  He didn’t seem inclined to say much, so she pointed to the stuffed animal.

“I didn’t want to do flowers again and I thought this would be funny because you know, you followed the wolves with me and everything, but now that I say that I worry that it’s weird.  Or lame.  Is it lame?”  She wondered if he was aware that as he looked at her he was petting the stuffed animal.

“It’s sweet.”  She’d had a stuffed tiger once, something some foster parent had probably given her.  It had lasted a couple of houses before it had gone missing or been left behind in one of her many moves.  Her blanket was the only thing she’d managed to hold onto from her childhood.  No one since had given her a stuffed toy.  “Henry will get a kick out of naming him for me.”

“Is he here?”

“Nope, he’s having dinner at the diner with Granny.  Gold is… somewhere.”  Emma frowned.  Gold had been acting weird ever since the robbery, and she didn’t love how vague he’d been about his evening activities.  He’d been pacing for a good half hour before he’d left to drop off Henry.

“Yeah, I knew that actually.  I saw him when I was coming over here.  Weird thing is, he was driving the Game of Thorns van.  If he was moving things around for the shop I didn’t figure he had Henry with him, so I thought maybe…”

“You saw him with the van?”  Emma’s bad feeling got worse.  They still hadn’t found Moe French and Gold still insisted that something stolen from him was missing.  Something he refused to talk about.  “What way was he heading?”  

“Northwest, towards the bridge I think.  Maybe he’s just parking the van somewhere French can’t find it and take it back?”  Graham still had the stuffed animal in his hands.  Emma took it, and wished she could do more than toss it on a hall table; she didn’t want him to think it didn’t matter.  But she had a feeling in her gut that something was very wrong.

“Gold’s cabin is out that way.  I’m sorry if you made reservations but I think we need to drive by and see if there’s anything going on we need to know about.”  It would be embarrassing if she showed up and Gold was there doing something completely normal, and she had to explain why she’d taken her date out to the cabin.  It would be just as weird if she and Graham showed up to an empty place in the middle of nowhere.  But she had to take the risk.  

“You might want to change your shoes first,” he pointed out, looking down at her heels.  Emma sighed.

II

“I’m sorry.”  She might have been on the verge of canceling the date, but that hadn’t been about him.  Well, only in the fear of ruining their relationship sort of way.  But he’d dressed up and made plans, and since he’d been with Regina for so long and she was a manipulative bitch it was a pretty good chance he hadn’t made date plans in a really long time.

“Our job is important.  Besides, if we miss dinner there’s still dessert and that’s the best part of a meal.”  Graham drove to the cabin without asking any questions about where it was.  Emma had to wonder if he’d been there or he just knew.  When they rounded the last corner the van was like a beacon in front of the cabin, despite the shadows.  Somehow she had known it would be there.  Weirdly, though, there weren’t any lights on inside.

“I’ll go first.  Give me a minute, okay?”  Her shoes might be sensible, but she was still wearing the red dress under her winter coat and it felt familiar.  Uncomfortably familiar, like the last months hadn’t happened and she was still skip tracing.  But Gold wasn’t a bounty, he was a friend.  And he might not be doing anything more than stashing extra storage at the cabin.  Emma left her gun in her pocket and proceeded with caution.

The door was unlocked.  She didn’t have to wonder if he was in the cabin.

“She’s gone forever – she’s not coming back. And it’s your fault! Not mine! You are her father!”  She couldn’t call it shouting.  It wasn’t loud.  It was painful.  Emma stepped into the room and found Gold leaning over Moe French, the cane she’d seen used as an aid to walk now used as a weapon to hit the larger man despite the fact he was tied up.  

Shit.

“It’s your fault.”  When he swung his arm backward to inflict another blow Emma was able to grab the cane.

“Stop.”  It was only another moment before Graham ran into the room.  Gold tugged once against the cane before half-turning and making eye contact with her.  The fight seemed to fade at that moment.  It was the first time she’d ever thought that he looked old.  She looked at her partner.  So much for their date.  “I think we’re going to need an ambulance.”

“Do you want to wait with him while I sort out the rest of this?”  Graham stared at Gold, somehow not seeming very surprised by what he had done to Moe French.

“I’m not that great with blood and I think Gold and I have things we need to talk about.  I’ll see you at the station?”  It would be easy to hand things over to Graham.  It wouldn’t be right.

“Yeah.”  Graham nodded as he knelt down at the wounded man’s side.  It was probably a bad time to notice how nice his ass looked in the dress pants, but she had been in date mode half an hour ago.  Emma looked at the door, and then at Gold.  

“I’m going to let go of your cane now.  I get that it works pretty well as a weapon but let’s not right now, okay?”  She wasn’t really worried, except that Gold still didn’t seem very focused.  She needed to make sure he knew that she wasn’t a threat.  “We should go outside.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”  He didn’t look in Moe’s direction before walking out the door.  Emma followed.

“I’m glad I was.  Things looked pretty bad in there, Gold.  It’s going to be hard enough to explain to Henry that I had to arrest you for assault.  I’m glad to avoid the murder charge.”  Would he have gone that far?  After seeing him with the cane she didn’t know.

“You could just not arrest me.”  Gold made the comment as he looked at the dark forest, but he didn’t sound like he considered it to be possible.

“French is going to have to go to the hospital, and there are going to questions. You know I can’t do that.”

“If you left me alone with him for another minute it wouldn’t be an issue.  Do you really think anyone would miss him?”

“You don’t really mean that.”  But when he looked at her Emma had to quell a shiver.  The wild rage from earlier was gone, but she could see the anger still.  Colder now, but no less lethal.  “We should go before the ambulance arrives.  I don’t have to do the whole handcuff thing, do I?”  

“Where would I possibly go?  I’m not abandoning my son.”  She couldn’t go so far as having him in the front seat, though. She held open the back door for him, waiting until he was settled before closing it.  He was silent for the brief ride to the sheriff’s station.  Fortunately it was late enough that the street was almost empty; anyone on Main Street was settled in a restaurant or the ice cream parlor, enjoying their happy little dates.  She wondered which restaurant she was supposed to be at right now. Emma frowned when she took off her coat and looked down at the red dress.

“So, first time in a cell?”  She tried a bad joke, to break the thaw in the room.  It was the first time she’d locked anyone in a cell before.  Figured she couldn’t have an easy first time.

“You’d be surprised.”  She half expected him to pace the small space, but he settled on the edge of the cot.  

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?”  Emma settled on the arm of the couch, facing him.  There was paperwork, but that could wait.  Besides, a lot of it depended on French’s prognosis and if he was pressing charges.

“You’re far too much like Henry to be content if I said no.”  Gold sighed.  “What do you want to know?”

“You were beating up a man without any plan to stop, Gold.  And I get it, he stole from you but I don’t think that’s what this was about.”  She had been shocked by what she’d seen, and how out of control Gold had been when he usually seemed, if anything, too reserved.  Now that she had time to process everything she remembered the words he had used.  “You said it was his fault, that someone wasn’t coming back.   French has a kid?”

“Had.   She…”   He looked down at the floor, drawing in a breath slowly before looking up at her.  Emma winced, pretty sure she knew what came next.  “She died.”

“She mattered to you.”  She stopped shy of asking if he loved her.  She remembered what it felt, the first time she’d woken up in a bed with Neal wrapped around her, and the moment she realized he wasn’t coming back.  She remembered what it felt like when she let down her guard and kissed Graham for the first time, and the fear when she was certain he was dying.  The pain and love she could all but feel radiating from Gold felt like something beyond that.  

“I loved her more than I thought I was capable of loving.  When I met her I had been dead inside for such a long time and she brought me back to life.  But I didn’t trust it.  She was so beautiful here.” He touched his chest just above his heart.  “So kind and smart and wonderful.  Why would she want to be with someone like me?”

“What did Moe French think of you and his daughter?”  She didn’t know much about French, but clearly something had gone pretty badly.

“He hated me from the moment we met.  We had a fight.  I knew one day she would figure out that she was too good for me so I drove her away before she could leave me.  She was young and beautiful, she’d find someone else who could love her better.  Someone who could give her more.  She went to her father but he hated me so much he wouldn’t accept her even when it was over.  He said things to her. Cruel things.  And then he told her she was no longer his daughter.  My Belle.”  She could see the tears in his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t let them fall.  Not while she was watching.

“Where did she go?”  Graham would have mentioned if French had a daughter in town, even if they were estranged. She waited a full minute before speaking, gently reminding him that she was still waiting.  “Gold?”

“She was found in the river on a Monday.  Her neck was broken.  A witness said she jumped off the bridge.”  Once he stopped speaking he seemed completely motionless.  Not just still, but as if he was a statue or a toy with the batteries taken out.

“I…”  She’s gone forever, he had said.  Not coming back.  For all that he had yelled at Moe as he beat the other man, Emma had to wonder how much of that rage had been aimed at himself.  

“You should go get Henry.  It’s past his bedtime already.”  Gold spoke in carefully measured words.

“I can call Ruby, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping him for the night.”  It might be the easiest thing to do, and they had extra rooms at the B&B.  

“You don’t want him to find out about this from someone else, and he deserves to sleep in his own bed.  Please.”  Gold’s eyes flicked in her direction briefly.  

“I don’t know if I should leave you alone.” He might not be interested in talking any more but that didn’t mean he needed to be alone.  And telling Henry she’d arrested his dad wasn’t going to be the most fun conversation she’d had today, which was saying something.

“I’m not going to try and escape.”

“I never thought you would.”  Strangely, for a moment she remembered how worried Henry had been about his friends leaving town.  No one could leave, he’d said.  It was nonsense, of course.

“I’m not going to do anything else either.  If it would make you feel better you can have my belt and shoelaces, though.”  He leaned his head against the back wall, his eyes closed and his voice drained of emotion.

“I don’t know what to say to him.”  She’d arrested his dad.  No matter how close they were going or what Gold had done she couldn’t imagine Henry was going to understand that.

“Nothing can prepare you for moments like this when you’re a parent.  You just have to figure it out as you go and hope for the best.”

“I’m not a parent.”  She’d never thought of herself that way, not even when she was pregnant.  Even a moment’s daydream would have made it too hard to do what she’d needed to do.  “Giving birth doesn’t make anyone a parent.”

“Being a parent has nothing to do with biology.  You told him you would stay for a day.  It’s been four months.  Why are you still here, Emma?”  She was surprised to find he was looking at her.  Emma blinked, unable to think of anything to say.  “He trusts you and he knows you’ll keep him safe.  Right now that matters more than anything.  Go home, Emma.  Henry needs you.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Even with everything else happening he put Henry first.  As much as she dreaded it, she couldn't do less.  Emma reluctantly stood up.  “I’m sorry about Belle.”

He didn’t say a word as she left.

I

“You look like you could use a drink.  How about I pour you one and then I can tell you all about how Sean showed up and proposed to Ashley.  It was pretty sweet.”  Ruby picked up a glass but Emma shook her head.

“I just came to pick up Henry.”  The truth was she would love a drink.  She was more interested in some solitude to work through what she’d learned tonight, though, then pretending to be interested in Ashley’s love life.  And she really didn’t want to answer questions about her own Valentine’s date.

“He just finished up an ice cream sundae; Granny took his dish before he could lick it clean.  He’s in the back booth.”  Ruby nodded towards the back of the diner.  Emma frowned when she saw that he wasn’t alone.  The annoying stranger in leather was sitting with him.  She was about the head back when her phone rang.  She only answered it because it was Graham.

“Hey.”

“You still at the station?”

“No, I’m taking Henry home.  I didn’t know where blankets and things were, though, if you don’t mind stopping by and checking on things.”  She was careful, no matter how softly she was speaking, not to say anyone’s name.  It wasn’t going to keep quiet for long, not in this town, but she needed to talk to Henry alone.

“Yeah, I’m about to head out of here.  French has a broken arm and a couple of cracked ribs.  He’s going to have some humdinger bruises tomorrow.  All in all he’s pretty lucky.”

“Sure, everyone’s lucky tonight.”  She shook her head.  “I’ll talk to you later, okay? And I’ll pick up the donuts tomorrow.”

“Guess we’ll need an extra one.”  Emma could hear the faint sound of someone being paged in the background.  “And Emma?  I really liked the dress.”

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he hung up.  She had some thinking to do, about if she really would have canceled the date.  About what she wanted.  About if he was going to see the little red dress again.  That all had to wait.

“Hey Emma.  Is dad with you?  We could have an ice cream before we go home.”

“Nice try, kid.  Even if Ruby hadn’t ratted you out I can see the chocolate in the corner of your mouth.”  She debated asking the stranger why he was talking to Henry, but she didn’t have the energy for another conversion where she had no idea what was happening.  Instead she nodded her head with the barest acknowledgment and ignored the way he was looking at her dress.  “Your dad asked me to pick you up.  It’s past your bedtime.”

“Dad’s not home yet?”  As usual the kid was way too clever, already suspecting something was wrong.

“I’ll tell you all about it when we get home, okay?”  She might not know much about being a parent, but she knew a lot about needing privacy when rugs got pulled out from under you.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Emma glanced at the stranger who was way too interested in their conversation.  The diner was empty enough that not many other people were around. Henry loved his spy stories and often pretended he was on secret missions.  Emma decided to use it to her advantage.  “There’s some stuff happening but it’s code word clearance only.”

“Okay.”  Henry bit his lower lip as he slid from the booth and followed her to the front door.  He was preoccupied enough that he didn’t notice he’d forgotten his backpack, which had somehow moved from his side of the table to the floor next to the stranger, along with the book inside.

On the short ride home Henry was quiet, looking out the window until they pulled into the driveway.  His silence ended about two seconds after Emma closed and locked the front door.

“Where’s my dad?” 

“Let’s sit down.”  Emma would have loved a minute to run upstairs and change into something more comfortable, but it wasn’t like anything about the next couple of minutes was going to be comfortable.

“The only time dad doesn’t come home at night is when he’s at the cabin and he always takes me.”  When Emma sat down on the sofa he didn’t join her, but remained standing.  “What happened?”

“Have you ever gotten in trouble at school?”  She doubted it.  Mary Margaret’s concerns were usually about him being too quiet.  He didn’t take after her, fortunately, in that regard.  Thirteen different schools and she’d been sent to the principal in all but two of them.

“One time dad had to pick me up because I got into a paint fight with someone who ruined my art project.  It was a Mother’s Day card.”  Emma closed her eyes for a moment.  Crap.  She remembered plenty of mom and dad gifts made in art class.  She’d dreaded those holidays.

“When you get in trouble at school you have to go see the principal.  Me and Graham, we’re sort of like the principals for the town.  We help people when they need us, and when people are fighting we have to tell them to stop.”

“My dad was fighting?”  Henry sounded as surprised as Emma had felt.  “He never fights.  He usually says bad things about people after they leave if he’s mad.”

“He got in a fight this time.”  Which wasn’t really accurate, considering the rope and tape that had bound his opponent, but she didn’t need to get into details.

“Emma, is my dad in time out?”  Henry finally sat next to her, turned slightly so their knees touched.

“You could say that.”  It sure sounded better than ‘hey kid, I arrested your dad.’

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, Henry.  Graham and I are going to have to figure that out.  But he’s not hurt and he’s safe.  He’s just going to have to stay at the station for a little while.”  She hoped ‘little while’ was at least close to the truth.  She didn’t know what she was going to do if they had to hold Gold for any length of time.  They didn’t have the facilities for a longer jail sentence and she didn’t have the ability to parent full time. Henry didn’t deserve that. 

“He’s in one of the jail cells, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”  Emma nodded reluctantly.

“Can I see him?”  Henry, who usually sounded old for his age, suddenly sounded young.  

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, okay?  Right now you need to get to bed.”  She couldn’t imagine he’d fall asleep anytime soon.  She knew she wouldn’t.  Maybe she’d call Graham and check in one last time for the night.  Maybe they wouldn’t just talk about work.

Maybe she’d have that drink she couldn’t accept from Ruby.

“Are you going back to work?”  Henry leaned in, his head on her shoulder.

“Not tonight.  I’m staying right here, okay?  You’re not going to be alone.”  She could promise that much, at least.

II

The jail cell in Storybrooke’s sheriff’s station had more to recommend it than the dungeon under Snow White’s castle.  It was cleaner, better lit, and the cot was more comfortable.  That didn’t mean Gold was any happier about being behind bars.  He didn’t blame Emma, no matter how inconvenient her timing had been the night before.  No, the blame was split between Moe French and Regina.  Moe French had taken the only thing he had left of his Belle.  And he was certain that Regina was behind it.

His cup.  It had been enshrined in his great hall for almost six years before the curse began.  In this world it sat alone on the shelf of a display case.  Like shadows from a dream he could remember his Belle dropping it in this world as well, her soft fingers caressing the broken bit.  He could remember her being in his home, long before Henry entered his life.  Curled up on the couch with a book from his library.  Teasing him in the kitchen.  Dancing with him in the garden.  He knew it was all a lie, memories created by the curse, but like a double-exposed picture they were hard to separate from the real memories of a castle a world away.

When he had told Emma of the version of his Belle this world remembered he could see her walking down the steps of the pink house for the last time.  He could remember the pale pallor of her skin when he had visited the morgue.  Her father had refused to identify the body.  There were many nights he’d stood on the bridge and thought about joining her, but he was too much of a coward.  The memories were not real, he knew now, but the guilt and rage were no different here then they were in another world.  

“You don’t look like you got much sleep.”  The sheriff was back not long after the sun rose.  He’d offered to stay the night, but Gold preferred the time alone.  

“No offense, but the accommodations don’t suit me.”  He wasn’t sure if he’d slept at all, or had only dreamed while still being awake.  It didn’t matter.  

“Leroy doesn’t tend to complain.  He snores, though.”  To Gold’s surprise Graham approached the cell with two paper cups in hand.  The one he handed off through the bars smelled herbal.  He wouldn’t have thought Graham knew or cared enough to bring tea rather than coffee.

“Yes, well not all of us can fall into a drunken stupor.”  He’d seen the dwarf around town, his grumpiness taking on a harder edge being separated from his brothers.  The only thing he and Leroy had in common, however, was a dislike for the local nuns.  “I don’t suppose you have a place to shower this morning?”

“Sorry, not right now but we’ll figure that out.”  Graham crossed the room to his office, shedding his jacket and leaving his coffee on his desk.  He was back a moment later with a second offering.  Gold frowned in confusion at the walkie talkie.

“Why?”  He didn’t reach out to take it.

“Someone wants to talk to you.  Channel four.”  Graham turned it on and held it through the bars again.

“Dad?”  The sound of static was soon replaced by the voice he wanted to hear the most, and most dreaded.  He snatched the walkie talkie from Graham’s grasp and pulled it close.

“Henry.”  His son had spent the night without him.  Only a handful of times in the boy’s life had that happened.  “How are you son?”

“I’m fine.  Emma said I have to go to school.  She made breakfast but the toast got burned.  We’re having cereal.”  Cereal was a rare treat; he didn’t think it was hearty enough to get a growing boy through the hours to lunch.  It didn’t matter today; he knew Emma was doing her best.

“Emma’s right.  School is important.”  He knew that Mary Margaret would keep a close eye on him.  She loved the boy, somehow instinctively knowing that he mattered more to her then she knew.  

“I want to come see you but Emma said after school  Are you really in jail?  Emma said you got in a fight with someone.  Were they a bad guy, like Saruman?”

“No, not like that.”  If he only knew that it was his dad that had more in common with Saruman.  “I got angry at someone I knew a long time ago, who hurt someone I cared about.  But that doesn’t make what I did okay.  Fighting is wrong, Henry.”

“Unless you’re protecting someone else, right dad?”

“If it’s really about protection,” he agreed.  Like Bae, his Henry was already more of a hero than his father.

“But you were just fighting and that’s why Emma had to put you in time out, right dad?”

For the first time in more than a day Gold laughed.  Time out brought up an image of Henry, three years old and covered in cocoa powder, trying to make his own drink after he’d been told no.  “Yes, Henry.”

“Emma says it’s time to go, dad.  You’ll be home soon, won’t you?”

“Let Emma know if there’s anything you need right now, son.  I’ll see you soon.”  He couldn’t lie, and he didn’t have an answer.  His anger had gotten the best of him, and he didn’t yet know the cost.  “I love you, Henry.”

“I love you too, dad.”  The walkie talkie returned to static.  Gold turned it off and set it down on the cot next to him.  Graham had retreated to his office, giving him at least the illusion of privacy.  He looked up and found the sheriff bent over paperwork.  For a man currently without a heart he was kinder than most people Gold knew.  He would have to find a way to thank him.

II

“You were supposed to go on a date last night.”  By mid-afternoon Gold was going stir crazy.  It took a lot of willpower not to pace the small space he was allotted.  At least he hadn’t started trying to climb the walls.  He’d done that once upon a time; it wasn’t a good thing.  His day had been broken up very little.  There had been a donut for breakfast and a pastrami sandwich for lunch. Other than that there had been a few conversations and a great deal of staring at the clock.  Graham had escorted him to the bathroom a few times, the extent of his freedom.  The station didn’t have a shower, though, and he still wore the suit he’d put on the day before.  “Another regret from last night.”

“I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”  The moment she spoke Emma’s face went carefully blank.  He knew that look.  She hadn’t meant to say that.  Suddenly the papers on her desk seemed very interesting from the focus she was giving them.

“Having second thoughts about the sheriff?”  He’d been gone the past hour with some vague mention of ‘rounds’ which might have been true or might have been about giving them some privacy to talk about Henry and how he was coping.  Gold hadn’t noticed anything unusual between the two of them.

“More like second thoughts about me.”  Emma gave up the pretense and came to sit on the edge of the sofa.  “It’s not the date, it’s what comes next.”

“A second date?”  He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, waiting.  He had a pretty good idea what she meant.

“Two dates I can handle.  Maybe even three.  But after that it’s not just going out on a date.  It’s something more.  Graham is a really great guy whose last relationship was really bad.  He doesn’t need another disaster.”

“And you’re certain it would be a disaster?”  ‘You could’ve had happiness if you just believed that someone could want you. But you couldn’t take the chance.’  He could almost hear Belle, from a lifetime and a world away.  She would have believed in Emma and the Sheriff.

“It always is.  Casual I can manage.  Anything else and I fuck it up.”

“You haven’t fucked up anything with Henry.  And while I can’t say much for your accommodations here I have no other complaints about you as a houseguest.”

“It’s not the same.  Plus the fact that I haven’t messed up too badly with Henry yet just means the other shoe hasn’t fallen.”

“Emma, there’s no one in the world I would trust with Henry more than you.”  She didn’t see herself as a mother, not yet, but he could see it.  It hurt to know that there might be a time when he was no longer the best parent for Henry, but at least he knew his son would have a fierce protector in his mother.  “If anything were to happen to me…”

“You haven’t even been in here for a day yet, Gold.  Let’s not get all dramatic.”  Never overly comfortable with emotions, Emma shifted slightly.  Gold could almost see the wall building around her.  He knew a lot about walls.

“I shut out love when it was mine for the taking, Emma.  And love is like a delicate flame.  You can’t turn smoke back into fire.  When it’s gone it’s gone”  She looked so much like her father.  He almost shook his head at the irony of giving them both advice in the same twenty-four hours.  “One of us should learn a lesson from all this, and I’m afraid that it’s too late for me.  It’s not too late for you.”

“I should call Graham.  To find out when he’s going to be back,” she clarified.  “It’s almost time to go pick up Henry.”

“Of course.”  There was nothing else for him to say.  Perhaps he’d said too much already.

Emma made her call and stayed at her desk, making it clear she wasn’t going to be talking anymore.  Perhaps he’d ask Emma to pick up a few books when she took Henry home.  It would at least alleviate a little of the monotony.  He would need to start putting together his legal defense, at least.  He was about to ask when Regina walked into the station.

Damn.  If there were going to be bars between them he'd prefer she was the one on the inside.

“Deputy Swan, you may go.  I need a moment alone with your prisoner.”  She walked through the station as if she was still royalty.

“I’m not going anywhere.”  It was nice to see, the way she stood between his cell and Regina.  Nice, but not conducive to learning what Her Majesty wanted.  She hadn’t set Moe French up simply for a laugh.

“It’s time to pick up my son, Emma.  Why don’t you take him out for an ice cream?”  He couldn’t help rubbing it in that Henry was his child.  Regina had been desperate to be a mother once, a fate he was always glad Henry had avoided.  Regina didn’t treat her possessions any better than she treated her enemies.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.”  He knew her concern for him was genuine, but as she looked over at the doorway he knew that she was worried about more than just him.  Graham should be back any minute.  All the more reason to get their little talk over with.

“She can’t do anything but talk, and that’s nothing to worry about.  You can bring me back a cone.”  He smiled to reassure her.

“Run along dear,” Regina commented dismissively.  A poor decision on her part since it almost made Emma change her mind.  After a moment’s hesitation, though, she went for her coat.

“Just this once,” she said as she left.  Gold waited a moment before saying anything.

“Come to test out your reelection speech on a captive audience, Madame Mayor?”

“Perhaps I just came to admire the view.  I could get used to this.”  When she smiled she was every inch the evil queen.

“Please, sit.”  He was careful not to use the trick too often, but the fact that she was forced to comply wiped the grin off her face.  She sat on the edge of the couch where Emma had been not long ago.

“I heard you did quite a number on that poor florist.  At least you didn’t break his legs; it would be tragic if he had to walk with a limp.”  As usual Regina was not subtle, going for the easy hits.

“There’s no reason to start pretending you care about anyone else, dearie.  Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here.”  When she glanced at her purse he knew.  Relief flooded him.  “When two people both want something the other has, a deal can always be struck. Do you have what I want?”

“Yes.”  She was so smug, so proud of herself.  He was reminded of a child figuring out a task on their own for the first time.

“So, you did put him up to it.”  He’d only had a small flicker of doubt.  On his own Maurice might have smashed up his house.  Might even have stolen.  He wouldn’t have gone after the cup.  He had no way of knowing the significance.

“I merely suggested that strong men take what they need.”  He almost laughed at Moe French being called a strong man.  He was a weak and insignificant person.  How his Belle had come from such a man he didn’t know.

“And you told him just exactly what to take.”  She had been more observant than he had realized, to understand the significance of his cup.  

“We used to know each other so well, Mr. Gold.”

“Did we?”  He understood her.  She was the worst he’d ever done, molding her into the darkness he needed.  The curse castor and the curse breaker, two women he’d manipulated into being.  Both so hurt by his actions.  But while Emma had his guilt and sorrow, Regina had his scorn.  He understood her, but she didn’t know more than a fraction of who he was.  “I know you well enough to know you have what I want.  The question is what you want in return.”

Her eyes narrowed.  He wasn’t playing her game.  She wanted to gloat. But she wanted something else and that was what he needed to know, almost as much as he needed his treasure returned.  “I don’t have all day, dearie.  If you’re not interested in a trade…”

“I want you to answer one question. And answer it simply.  What’s your name?”

“It’s Mr. Gold.”  So that was her game.  He hadn’t expected that, and had to work hard to sound as if he didn’t have a clue what she meant.  It seemed his four-month advantage had come to an end.  She knew that she wasn’t the only person who remembered.

“Your real name.”

“Every moment I’ve spent on this earth, that’s been my name.”  He was stalling, trying to figure out the best way to play her and still get what he wanted. The fact that he was so clearly frustrating her was just a bonus.

“But what about moments spent elsewhere?”  He wondered how long she had suspected.  Did she know that he was the one that had hit her when she was trying to kill Graham?  Did she think that he had known the whole time?  

“What are you asking me?”

“I think you know. If you want me to return what’s yours tell me your name.”  She knew.  There was no way he could deny it.  All he could do was use it.

“Rumpelstiltskin.”  With a single word he could feel Mr. Gold and all his illusions of humanness shed.  Decades fell away and he was in another cell hidden in a cave, feeling the bitter taste of an almost victory that would destroy everything he knew.  When he grasped the bars he could almost feel the crackle of unusable magic under his skin.  “Now give me what I want.”

“Such hostility.”  Like a child poking a dangerous animal she couldn’t resist baiting him.  She probably thought she was hiding the fear in her eyes.

“Oh, yeah.”  He wanted her to be afraid.  He needed it, to make sure she didn’t come near those he cared about.  She had played her role in taking his Belle.  She wouldn’t endanger Henry.  He needed Emma safe too; the curse would be pointless without the Savior.

“Over this?”  When he took the cup from his purse he stared at it, hating her fingerprints in the same place where Belle’s had once been.  He forgot to breathe.  At least he knew she hadn’t destroyed it.   “Such a sentimental little keepsake.”

“Thank you Your Majesty.”  The moment it was close enough he snatched it, pulling it from her hold.  He slunk back from the bars and cradled it carefully in his hands.  Other than the chip it was undamaged.   Belle’s cup, safe again in his possession.  He took a breath and pulled his gaze from it.  Regina was already too aware of its significance.  He looked at her.  “Now that we’re being honest with each other, let’s remember how things used to be, shall we? And don’t let these bars fool you, dear. I’m the one with the power around here. I’m going to be out of here in no time, and nothing between us will change.”

It was a promise.  It was a threat.  And though he’d long since abandoned any gods it was a prayer.

“We shall see.”  Always one to feel like she had the last word, Regina was quick to leave.

Gold starred at his treasure until he heard voices.  Graham, Emma, and Henry all entered the station at the same time, just a moment after Gold slipped the cup into his pocket.  He’d rather avoid explaining it.

“Dad.”  Henry raced for the cell, his hands touching the same bars Gold had held onto just minutes ago.  

“Henry.”  He was grateful to see his son, as much as he hated that Henry would forever have the image of jail bars in his head now.

“We were afraid a cone would make a mess.”  Emma unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, handing Gold a paper cup with a scoop of ice cream inside.  He was certain the rainbow sprinkles were Henry’s doing.  “If I leave the door open you’re not a flight risk, right?  I think someone might like to keep you company.”

“Can I really?”  Henry looked up at Emma, eyes shining bright and the remains of ice cream on his lip.

“I can’t see that it would hurt anything.  I’ve got some paperwork to do.”  She tried to head for her desk, but Henry stopped her with a fierce hug around her waist.  Emma stiffened briefly before relaxing and returning the hug.  “Go on, kid.  I think your dad could use one of those.”

Henry ran into the cell and flung himself at his dad.  Gold pulled him onto his lap, careful of the cup in his pocket, and held him tight.  One love was lost to him forever.  One son was still out of his reach.  But he still had Henry.  “My boy.”

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #162

Tanabata has come around once again to offer a generation of high schoolers some false hope in order to distract them from the cruel reality that is life. At least, that’s what the old Tomoko might’ve thought. While the world ultimately didn’t hand everything to her on a silver platter, Tomoko’s half-hearted hope did actually manifest into something she holds dear. The question now remains...

What does she strive for now?          

Chapter 162: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Make A Wish

“I wish that Watamote would get a 2nd season!”

Ahem...moving on.

Nothing like a little friendly brooding to start the day.

In a weird, ironic way, Yuri seems to empathize with Tomoko over mutual apathy. The one constant they share is that they both like to take the path of least resistance in life. While Yuri may be a little off the mark at times, having that unspoken bond is a great point to start from.

So we knew Nemo recognized that Tomoko was a former loner, but Yuri, too? Then again, it’s been hinted at before that Tomoko is kind of an open book and that the people around Tomoko are more perceptive of her than she’d like to believe. So yeah, Yuri knew Tomoko barely had friends before she met her (a fact that likely fuels her codependency tendencies). But like any good friend, Yuri stuck around despite that history.

Still can’t get over her casually calling her Yuri-chan.

For a hardcore introvert like Yuri, doing something for the sake of being social with no practical purpose seems illogical. It makes total sense that traditions like Tanabata aren’t really her cup of tea. Just how much Yuri is aware of that is still kind of fuzzy, but no less endearing, 

Reiterating a joke I made in the previous chapter, but Tomoko really ought to take a crash course in psychological projection.

Taking a stab at Yuri’s desires, now...I’d say it would be to have someone who really understands her. Or for Minami to lose her fang. Either or.

Wow, I wouldn’t have figured that Ucchi was the type to write in all caps.

I always wondered if the sugar-sweet and dragged-out way that moe anime girls yell “Senpaaai!” was actually grating by real-life Japanese standards. Looks like I was right.

Now those school fan clubs for the ridiculously attractive girl/guy that you sometimes see in manga are starting to feel pretty legit right now. 

“Pfft, basic bitches,” thought Tomoko. 

Smooth like butter.

You know, I think that Tomoko being unable to come up with something is a solid indication that she’s relatively satisfied with her life right now. Sure, she has career goals and whatnot, but she no longer feels troubled by material desires or short-term gratification. Like Yuri, it may be that Tomoko has more intangible, emotional desires that aren’t easy to put into words. But also like Yuri, Tomoko may have recently already gained that.

Occasionally–just occasionally–a few earnestly pure-of-heart moments from a cute manga girl is all you really need.

...Especially when it’s immediately offset by Tomoko being Tomoko.

Ohhhh, boy. That last comment by Tomoko is opening up all sorts of questions regarding her sexuality. I’ve mentioned before that Tomoko may be dealing with some sort of gender dysphoria and I think that’s becoming more apparent than ever. For one, her totally normal-not-at-all-creepy desire to NTR her kouhai assumes that only a guy could do that to Hirasawa. It also implies that Tomoko would only acknowledge liking girls if she identified as male. Not once did Tomoko consider that she, as a female, could NTR another female. All in all, there’s a bit of internalized homophobia, repressed sexuality, etc. at play here, and it’s going to take a bit of soul-searching for Tomoko to sort it all out.

Once every thousand years, we get some actual chibi art out of this series.

Bless you, Nico Tanigawa.

The best part of this Hirasawa-vision is that Tomoko is drawn exactly the same, just with lighter tones. Hirasawa’s not blind, just optimistic, which makes her heroine-worship so much more earnest.

Normally, super innocent girls like Hirasawa who get overly excited on trivial things tend to rub me the wrong way, mostly because I have a hard time thinking young girls are that simple-minded. But there’s something about Hirasawa that feels genuine. It may be because her excitement feels like its deriving from a sense of loneliness. Like an overreaction from latching onto any lure of female friendship. 

It’s also just cute.

Tomoko...I’m pretty sure that’s your confirmation bias talking right there.

We don’t even need to see anything above the waist, but you can tell exactly who this is based on context alone...

I was wondering how Ucchi actually manages to do that Darth Vader thing with her mouth...

...then I remembered how her face looks and it makes perfectly no sense.

Guys, I...I think Ucchi finally broke.

Actually, Miyazaki, it may not be phrased as a wish, but it definitely is a wish...

I really enjoy the little bits of characterization in everyone’s wishes. For Yuri and Tomoko, like the BFFs they are, they have the same, most basic wish since they don’t really have any other burning desires. It’s also short and sweet, and without any fluff, as they would normally be if speaking out loud. And lastly, Yuri doesn’t leave her last name, as if she doesn’t want to attach herself onto her wish that far. 

Katou, on the other hand, is all giddy and sweet, using words like “hope” and “together” when effectively making the same wish. She uses “we” without naming anyone, making it an all-inclusive wish. Just what you’d expect from the class mom.

Tomoko’s habit of “lying on reflex” actually makes a great deal of sense. She’s the type who has trouble expressing her vulnerabilities, and lying is a standard defense mechanism, just like Yuri’s noncommital attitude, Nemo’s passive aggression, and whatever Katou most certainly has.  

Oh, Yuri, you precious bean. I know jokes aren’t your forte, but your emotional responses–or lack thereof–makes for a great punchline.

Did ya’ll notice how Tomoko’s second wish is exactly what Imae wished for last year? Tomoko may not always make the best decisions when comes to carrying the torch of The Great Megumi Imae, but you can’t deny that she’s making a concerted effort.

Guess Tomoko isn’t the only one with enough nerve to turn a Tanabata wish into a dirty joke...

Damn, we all knew that Fuuka was getting an unhealthy fixation over Katou and Tomoko’s “secret” relationship, but never to the point where it was affecting her studies, and by extension, her after-high school prospects. It hints that the series may be taking this misunderstanding into a direction that’s not entirely played for gags. It’s a risky move because such a development could easily come across as contrived if taken seriously, but if they keep it character-driven a la Ucchi, it could make for some really engaging moments. 

C’mon, Fuuka. How did you think people were going to take that?

Of all of the people who’ve been “corrupted” by Tomoko, Fuuka may be taking the most damage out of all of them. Poor thing.   

Let’s see here...

Sometimes I worry about Itou’s sense of self when she always identifies herself by her relationships with others.

Yo, Komiyama doesn’t even bother mentioning the Lottes by name because “Who else of any importance could it possibly be?”. Never lose faith, Komi.

Sweet, naïve Mike. She (and her boyfriend who’s somehow still kicking) is set up to be this series’ greatest tragedy.

This is Tomoko Kuroki, everyone. The girl who can’t see the raging emoji-faced horndog right in front of her, but will misconstrue a single misunderstanding as a pervert. Selective perception, ain’t it?

Well, it is a great opportunity to anonymously judge people’s inner desires, so Tomoko’s probably right.

Here we go again...

Nice to see that Nemo has practical, but optimistic expectations for her goal. She knows that she’s in her prime and is ready to hit the ground running. 

The thing about Yoshida’s wish is that it implies that she knows she’ll be faced with resistance. Still, I gotta respect her individuality.

Okada’s wish feels like a cry for help if you look at it another way. That’s probably not the case, though. Probably.

That’s the beauty of it all, Tomoko. In the end, you really didn’t do anything. At least, not directly. What you did was make yourself into an example for Nemo to follow. One of Tomoko’s greatest attributes is that she’s unapologetically herself, which is how she eventually got noticed–and in Nemo’s case, admired–in the first place.   

Quakey legs + short people problems = cute Tomoko. 

Aw man, what I wouldn’t give for this to be a running gag. That in all those chapters where Tomoko was all alone, there was actually somebody she knows now that was in the scene, too. It (sort of) first happened with the dick-pics-in-class chapter and the three-legged race guy, after all. Poor Tomoko has all this baggage that can be used against her now.

For those with shitty memory like me...

“I want to lose my virginity in a year so I don’t lose track of my bigger goals.”

Of course, she’d forget about the part that actually mattered.

Well, you know, Tomoko, they do say that every joke/lie has a kernel of truth.

I noticed that a lot of (comedy) manga seems to like elevating the value of losing(or saving) one’s virginity to absurd levels, at least in the inexperienced minds of its teenaged male characters. Tomoko herself has perpetuated this notion in the past. But even so, the “in-universe” outside of Tomoko’s mind never really aggrandizes sex, and I find that it to be a very refreshing change that shows how, in reality, as Nemo suggests, losing your virginity isn’t really that big of a damn deal.  

Good ol’ Tomoko logic at its finest.

Nemo looks...surprisingly serious about that. Normally that kind of talk would catch her off guard a little, but she had no hesitation with that retort. I think that’s solid evidence that Nemo has done more research into the nature of the voice acting industry, especially after Tomoko unintentionally trolled her with that eroge. 

This could lead to even more intellectual (if not openly sexual) conversations between Tomoko and Nemo that go beyond their usual bantering. That’d be pretty lit. 

Well, if Tomoko is a direct reflection of the author, then she probably thinks light novels are mostly for loser otaku trying to live their perverted fantasies through self-insert literature (at least, what I gathered from Write Sisters).

Well, I’m be damned if that isn’t blatant foreshadowing for where Tomoko’s future is headed.

Even though I saw it coming a mile away, it still gives me the warm fuzzies.

As fantastic as it would be for Tomoko to be an accomplished light novelist with Nemo voicing a character in her anime adaptation, I feel like that level of success would be a little out of reach for this series’ approach to realism. 

If I were to look into the future, I’d say that Tomoko would write a light novel that’d be successful just enough to be greenlit for an ultimately mediocre anime adaptation. And Nemo, being a rookie, would either be not cast at all, or be given a bit part for a background character.

Of course, that’s all speculation. As Nemo says, the freedom to dream is the one thing we can count on. And if there’s one thing the mangaka has learned from doing this series, it’s that being realistic doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy ending. 

I guess being considerate/decent to complete strangers is still locked out of Tomoko’s comfort zone. 

I think we found a member of Rena’s family.

Man, the more we get these tidbits of Imae’s legacy affecting the school (and Tomoko), the more nostalgic I get for her. I sincerely hope we get to see her at least one last time before the series is over.

And in tried-and-true Watamote fashion, we get a little bit of Tomoko’s wisdom to end off another thought-provoking chapter.

In retrospect, there wasn’t a whole lot of “action” in this chapter that could be built upon later. It was mostly a series of gags sprinkled with some nice conversation (at least until Nemo’s part). One of the core themes that Nico Tanigawa seems to be playing with is, “Now that Tomoko has come this far, where does she go from here?” And the answer is...

They don’t know. 

Legitimately, I don’t think the mangakas know exactly what Tomoko’s endgame will be. Sure, they have some strong ideas in terms of school and career, but nothing definitive. As s result, I think playing with the gags and jokes a bit more is their way of “stirring the pot” and seeing what comes out. All of Watamote’s greatest developments did originate from comedy, after all. The first Tanabata chapter is a prime example of this, and I have no reason to think that the stars of the second Tanabata chapter won’t shine over Tomoko once again.

[thefloatingstone]

syhraus replied to your post: syhraus hum… avoid the recent anime version, not...

good, i hope you’ll have a nice time catching on with the old anime -3- Also on a sidenote, why are some animes nowadays worse than animes made years ago ? I mean technology got better, so they should be able to make better animes no ?

I could answer this but it would take another 5 page essay to explain everything @__@

In as little amount as typing as possible;

1: Homogenization. In modern times, people have a more set idea of what “Anime” should be about. And the industry is more and more catering to this mindset with its stories and character designs. Meaning shows have gotten extremely formulaic as the anime studios want to appeal to what they believe their audience wants in anime. Meaning less risks are taken in writing, plot, art style, animation, character, genre, etc etc. And people fall for it (look at how many people call Mob Psycho 100 “cheap” and “Ugly” despite it having some of the best animated sequences in a show lately just because it doesn’t follow conventional anime character design) Basically most of anime’s problems fall into this category. From the fanservice, the boring stories, the moe girls, the cliche’d tropes. Almost all of it is designed to cater what the anime industry think fans want in an “anime”. The studios see this as “safe” and therefore a low risk high rewards system for business. And despite it generally thought that anime is not as good as it use to be, its still raking in enough money to justify this mindset. (similar to Hollywood’s current treatment of movies btw)

2: Pushing merchandise. Many anime are made purely with the mindset that people will spend hundreds of dollars on its merchandise (especially figurines) if the characters are “pretty” enough. This means animation itself becomes stilted and bland as every frame is meant to have the characters look pretty at all times. Meaning less movement and range in expressions. It also affects character design. Some shows almost feel machine assembled and obviously exist for no other reason than to sell its own merchandise. with hollow characters and flat story telling.

3: Higher profit margins. Like all businesses everywhere, the anime industry wants more profit for less expense. Meaning some anime get outsourced to inexperienced cheap studios that result in lackluster animation and visuals. They spend less on making the actual show and therefore get more profit when the show sells.

4: Catering to what they think the audience wants, without asking the audience. This is almost the same as the first point, but in this case, it also means even though many an audience member might be eager for something better and more interesting in anime (which is why shows that DO try and be different often do pretty alright) the industry as a whole don’t like risks. And instead of trying to find new things which are good, they doggedly cling to what has been working for them for the past 10 or 20 years and what has been reliable. Thereby telling its own audience “this is what the trend is in anime right now!”. Even if the audience itself is not even really interested in this trend any more. (Luckily Shounen Jump can help this slightly with its reader poll on what is the most popular series running which often dictates what will get made into anime. But this doesn’t count for the hundreds of anime made every year which have nothing to do with Jump)

5: Visuals over writing. This also ties into the above point of every frame looking pretty and pleasing to the eye. But in this case specifically it means that as long as a show looks PRETTY, it doesn’t have to actually be...  you know.... well written. It just needs good looking characters in nice outfits, flashy fight scenes and some fanservice or other form of “sexiness” and it will make money.

6: Over-saturation. Especially in art style and tone. An obvious one. Too much anime made all at the same time. So instead of quality anime given time and effort, larger amount of anime are churned out instead. Studios copying other studio’s popular shows, chasing whatever the big trend is at the moment before it dies out, not taking time to craft a good show. Instead focusing on making it fast and getting it out. Quantity over Quality.

7: Over reliance on brand. This is for things such as Berserk and Sailor Moon and such. Where a company or studio will make an anime of an already super popular franchise or title that’s been popular for years. And then put in the minimum amount of effort into it. Because the recognition of the brand itself guarantees profit. So they cut costs everywhere else and rely on bran name recognition.

and 8: Animation still requires human animators with artistic skill and time to animate. Flashy effects, camera movement and other pointless CG effects, do not. And animators cost money, especially if they need more time to animate things. So you either give your animators less time to animate, or you animate in CG because it takes less time to do. Or both.

Anyway there’s like a TON more but those are the basics.

As always, I’m linking my Tip Jar on posts like this from now on as they take well over an hour to write every single time.

(Time taken to write reply: 2 hours)

[purplemonkeyemi]

exit, or, how i spent 2 evenings

Okay. I love writing my thoughts down. I used to do it all the time in my mid-teens, but life being as it is, I didn’t even dream of keeping that up. I don’t really know entirely why I’m writing this all down, but, I have a lot of free time and maybe one day I’ll find it amusing. I do think it’s important to discipline oneself to at least get one’s thoughts in order about things. So, this was my latest, intentional, grappling with a piece of art.

So, why “Exit”? Why did I spend, what, 3 hours or so watching about 15 different performances, in about 20 different videos, of one song from U2’s 2017 Joshua Tree tour? I’m not sure. And that’s probably why I did it. In hindsight, I feel like that’s the point in the U2 concert a couple weeks ago that I could have yelled at my husband, “Just shoot heroin in my arm next time!”… but, really, I think that had started about 8 songs earlier. Whatever the reason, I have not been able to get that performance out of my mind. I was admittedly enraptured by Bono as a performer that night, but this was different. And I couldn’t get it out of my head, like a ghost, or a shadow. Or a koan that I have to solve. I needed to interpret it to exorcise myself of it.

In a burst of girlish enthusiasm the other day, I decided I was going to find all of the high quality videos from the tour of Exit that I could find and watch them until I understood that performance. By this time I had figured out enough of my personal fascination with it—it’s very theatrical and it relies on several layers of “acting.” [I guess this requires a brief diversion into my general fascination with performers who become other people, including characters of themselves, especially relating to stage names.] BEGIN DIVERSION: Obviously, Bono is a stage name, one he’s carried for nearly (or exactly as?) long as he’s been in U2, over 40 years; it’s what everyone calls him, even his wife. But Bono, stage-Bono, like stage-the Edge, stage-Adam, and stage-Larry, like all musical artists, are, really, actors putting on a stage show. Each night, the same “costumes,” same lines, same set, same characters—they have to “be” themselves. A concert is an eleborate play. Sure, there’s some ad-lib, adapting for different audiences, etc. But those guys are “concert” versions of themselves for those 3 hours. Using Bono again, I’m 100% sure that stage-Bono, as earnest and genuine as he appears up there, is not the same Bono that his wife Ali lives with. Is the Bono that appears in public the same as Bono-at-home? Who knows, but I imagine unlikely. I can’t imagine how larger-than-life people maintain any sense of identity. I’m fascinated by all four members in this regard because they got together as 14/15 year olds and were rock gods by 20. What does that do to a person? :END DIVERSION So, one element: the performer—immersed in a multi-layered act which ends in a character created to protect himself from the darkness of the song (citation--one of several interviews I read). Bono as a real, everyday, married-with-kids-human, performing “Bono” for the audience (as much as he appears in-the-moment, and, often, utterly possessed by frenzied “in the zone”-ness), who is additionally portraying a character-- the Shadow Man—who exists only for this one song on this one tour. It’s an act, on an act, (conceivably on an act. I can’t imagine how public figures with alternate names maintain their sense of self after decades..). I bring this up, because the layers of the performance affect the interpretation. Next element: political commentary in which the song is set The lead-in to Exit (as well as the time-allowed for a significant costume change, it is theater after all), is a brief excerpt of an old television show. An enigmatic charlatan comes to an old West town claiming the only way to protect oneself and one’s home is to a build a wall. Another character calls him a liar, and the charlatan says he is the only one who can save them. Sounds familiar, right? Oh yeah, the charlatan’s name is Trump. An excellent find on the part of whoever unearthed it. Next element: song lyrics. I include them below. The song is about a wise, esoteric holy man who starts with good intentions, becomes obsessed with this idea of “the hands of love” and goes crazy (I can’t remember the details. Again, from an interview.)

And on this tour, there are two additional lyrical bits inserted at the end, which I’ll just do from memory. First, I believe, is a poem excerpt, “Where you’ve come from is gone, where you are is no good, and where you’re going was never really there.” Then a purposefully used version of “Eeeny Meeny Miny Moe,” chosen explicitly for its occasional racist uses (again, according to an interview, somewhere).

Final element: the stage—regular stage front, and a catwalk. I think the only way for me to do this is to annotate the lyrics. It should also be noted that variations occurred. BEGIN DIGRESSION: Watching this performance so many times from different concerts, it was obvious what was scripted. What was also obvious from this experiment, interviews, general observations, and such, is that during performances Bono exists in a very altered state of mind, becomes subject to his otherworldly soul, and turns into a performance artist, making choices (or being led by) based on said otherworldly soul. Clearly he can see through the haze, handling technical issues and such, but, from time to time, he seems to exist purely in the moment and interprets at will. Short version: each performance was a little different because Bono is a very free, uninhibited, one-of-a-kind spirit, especially on stage. It’s part of what makes him a fascinating human. :END DIGRESSION

So, let’s start interpreting this thing. I would like to note that, like interpreting literature, this does not always assume authorial intent. I imagine that artists of all types work as much by intuition as by purpose. Whether some of the choices made for this particular piece were logical or intuitive are irrelevant. “You know he got the cure But then he went astray He used to stay awake To drive the dreams he had away. He wanted to believe In the hands of love.”

-- Shadow Man walks with a slow saunter and swagger (rather than Bono’s charismatic, confident stride) to the mic stand; there’s some hand motions here, most importantly on “hands of love,” he rubs them together in front of his chest. Shadow Man is beginning his journey. He is intrigued, a little haunted, but earnest. He stands still at the mic stand. Sometimes, instead of sharply grabbing the mic, he pulls it, like an arrow, into his chest, in some sort of symbolic gesture. Then begins his descent. BEGIN DIGRESSION: I am/was really fascinated with how Bono interacted/interacts with his mic stand. It’s extremely physical, intimate, and borders on sexually aggressive (imagine Mad Men’s Don Draper and how he speaks to women). He stands very close, sings with his mouth basically on the mic, and takes the wireless mic with excessive force. This observation is one of performance and physical use of space. A similar energy also emerged with him and the camera.

I often try to figure out if stage/screen presence and charisma are tied to body language (conscious or unconscious); in Bono’s case, absolutely. His physical presence was inextricable from his bearing, demeanor, and his use of space/physicality. I think some of it is the learned artifice of a seasoned performer, while some of it, perhaps some of the mic dynamic, is natural and intangible charisma. I bring this up partly because Shadow Man does not have the same physical presence Bono did in the rest of the numbers—through purposeful artifice. This is a distinct character. :END DIGRESSION “His head it felt heavy As he came across the land A dog started cryin' Like a broken-hearted man At the howling wind”

--- Shadow Man begins his descent into darkness and confusion, portrayed by movement around the mic stand (yes, somewhat reminiscent of a stripper. I’ll address the song’s occasional increased sexuality in the next verse), visually representing a vortex. Now we get away from the stationary mic…

 “He went deeper into black Deeper into white. He could see the stars shine Like nails in the night.

 A hand in the pocket Fingering the steel The pistol weighed heavy And his heart he could feel was beating. Oh my love, oh my love” 

--- Shadow Man touches violence and approaches his breakdown in the frenzied beat and lighting; also, in about half of the performances, this also has very sexualized choreography and vocalizations (ours did not), which I don’t need to detail; now, I don’t know for sure, but I’m fairly certain this is part of Shadow Man’s characterization. It could also be just “In the moment” performance-artist Bono taking over his body. But since it happened as many times as it didn’t, I think it’s purposeful and thus requires reckoning. The Shadow Man has progressed another step away from himself. “So hands that build Can also pull down. The hands of love.”

-- Shadow Man walks across the stage to the catwalk, where, on repeated refrains of “hands of love” he clearly has some conversion experience as conveyed by the choreography (AKA, basically just Bono going crazy, as he does do from time to time), also occasionally sexualized. This is Shadow Man’s transformation from which he emerges as a demagogue, using his mystical fascination as a tool to control rather than build or heal. After this, Shadow Man saunters dramatically down the catwalk, exhorting the crowd to put out their hands (or put their hands to the screen, as if he were a politician of TV evangelist). Of course, the audience does extend their hands—because, of course, it’s the appropriate thing to do when a rockstar tells you to. Except, this isn’t Bono, this is the Shadow Man. This is where the performance layer comes in. The audience is taken for a ride, just like the Shadow Man’s dupes are. U2’s audience becomes the Shadow Man’s audience. This is blatantly analogous to how the “dupes” who support the man who wants to build a wall respond to and believe that charlatan (remember the video this number was introduced by). The “hands of love” could just as easily be the hands of power. They both can build up or tear down, as the lyrics state. Of course, this US presidential administration is tearing down, and this song (among others, of course) is a rebuke. Also, it’s important to note that Bono’s a charlatan too, as all performers are to a greater or lesser degree (performing Shadow Man, and performing himself as a rockstar, of course).  One could also add that he acts as a contrast to the Shadow Man, someone who has the ear of the people who tries to build up, to use his power, and hands, well. It’s perfectly constructed meta-commentary.

Next, Shadow Man gives his impassioned, broken-voiced, “Where you’ve come from is gone, and where you are is no good, and where you’re going was never really there” speech to his (U2’s) audience (all still with their hands out, as instructed). This sounds like, to me, the emotional appeal of the political right, or used on the political right. Shadow Man sounds, again, like a televangelist…or a politician. Then he approaches the camera arm, usually right up in it (sexually aggressive again), to give a crescendoing rendition of Eeny Meeny Miny Moe—working himself and the audience into a frenzy the louder, faster, and more frantic he gets. Remember, this snippet was included for its racist uses (though the traditional lyrics are used) and that the Shadow Man is a demagogue. Now he’s learned to manipulate his followers, and he’s led them to the realm of hate. (Hmmm…) The followers again are implored to put their hands “against the screen.” In one performance (perhaps the earliest one I found?) they’re even reminded to send him ten dollars, like a huckster, televangelist, or a politician. There’s a price for being swept up by the Shadow Man. The music then abruptly ends, and, during most of the performances, this happens as the Shadow Man is starting to saunter back towards the stage, and the moment it ends, he turns arounds (or stays forward, it varies), looking malicious of victorious (or is it Bono, with a look of condemnation?). Following this, Shadow Man strips of his jacket (if after one of the sexualized performances, this is still “in character” and it’s done sexually, like a striptease). Then he’s Bono again, who takes off the hat and moves into the next song as himself. Did I mention that the jacket covers a beautiful black vest embroidered (in black) of part of the US Constitution? Analyze that one. The narrative arc and political metaphor is clear and beautifully portrayed as a theatrical performance art piece, scripted yet also subject to the whims of (or forces acting upon) the artist.

It’s weird, and gorgeous, and bizarre. It’s far too layered to absorb in the moment. And I really enjoyed watching it, in various permutations, over a dozen times. When I could afford it, I remember seeing local community plays and musical repeatedly so I could see the subtle differences between performances. This was just like that. In this one Bono had to switch out his mic and remove/replace his earpieces right before the frenzied climax, interrupting the flow and breaking character, or in that one a verse was spoken more than sung, or in this one this choreography was a little different, etc. etc. Theater is alive and this piece of it caught me and would not let me go. Maybe now it will.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Princess Principal 3 | Saiyuki Reload Blast 4 | Boku no Hero Academia 30 | Katsugeki 5 | Reflection 2

I’ve been kinda busy lately and there’s been minimal Boueibu news as we gear up for the OVA, but the “Chesarka watches ________” tags are now on this post and should be rolled out to other posts.

Princess Principal 3

Gah? Is this a yuri? Or is it just two girls talking as spies?

I thought we didn’t need this commentary. We had it in ep 1.

Nuwara Eliya appears to be a Sri Lankan tea type.

Okay, there’s a dude dressed like a sailor but wearing goggles. What is this, a flying fishmobile??? (reference to Galilei Donna, which I’ve never seen but I’ve heard of the fish airship)

I’m…not sure what Kalinga tea is. It could be some made-up name for a tea brand or something.

I bet Beatrice’s mechanism will save her…Nope, turns out I was wrong…

Saiyuki 4

The OP blood splatter effect is still fairly tasteless…

The “salmon” joke does kind of work in both English and Japanese, as “salmon” in Japanese is sake.

I think the kon bit of Konzen’s name has something to do with gold, or else his hair colour is an aesthetic choice by Minekura. (Oh? You’re asking me why I know Kazuya Minekura’s name? Well, for one, it’s in the OP, and the second thing is I found an old manga magazine preserved online that talked about her (Animefringe), dated about 2004 at last issue. That’s why it’s interesting to take on Saiyuki Reload Blast from a rookie perspective.)

Well, at least now we understand why Goku can deal with Gojyo and Genzo so much.

I’m not sure if Nataku has been mentioned previously in this series, but hey. Diamond head is probably him.

Well, I guessed right. It really was Nataku.

Can’t throw around the name Son Goku (Sun Wukong) lightly now, kiddo. Saiyuki is based off Journey to the West, and of course Son Goku is the monkey king in that. I’m not completely up to scratch on my Journey to the West mythology though, so here…a link which should detail Goku’s history roughly as it should be. *sighs exasperatedly* I thought I was done with my Chinese studies…

Is it just me, or is this pan starting and stopping?

I’m always one for the bishie fests with a small teasing of yaoi, but no real yaoi. Of course, Saiyuki is perfect for me, ain’t it?

“I’m rowdy down there too.” – Hehehe, LOL.

Otayori? The word these days is tegami, or otegami if you want to be polite, so otayori must be an old term.

…yeah, I don’t get the Urasai.

Boku no Hero Academia 30

Ah, having to live up to expectations. Now there’s something I know well.

Interesting to note Iida’s now taken on a more Midoriya approach to things, including and up to “throwing away his arm”.

Hey wait, the Iida/Stain eyecatch combo happened last ep too. Dangit, recycling.

Shouto’s outfit looks a lot like Endeavour’s. maybe someday I should analyse how Shouto’s becoming more comfortable with being in his father’s shadow…but I guess someone’s already done it, eh?

I guess I should say Endeavour’s blue flame was a type of “boom, headshot!” thing, but…yeah, it doesn’t quite qualify.

Deku talking to Native is just so adorable! It completely sets off my version of the moe radar!

“…if he gets too high…”

So…wow. The hero killer gets done in by his own bones. That’s kinda anticlimactic…

Katsugeki 5

Nobunaga no Shinobi said oodachis can be about 2 metres long…eesh. I’d hate to be on the end of an enemy oodachi…

Ufotable’s visuals look really lifelike, it’s crazy…

Oh…my gosh. Tonbokiri!

Okay, okay. Seriously, are there any Mutsu/Kane-san shippers out there? I thought Horikawa/Kane-san shippers were more common.

Eyyyyyyy! It’s Jiji (Mikazuki)! Jiji’s any Touken Ranbu player’s dream sword, in regards to sword rarity. Dangit, Saniwa, you’re making me jealous.

I’m so worried for Tonbokiri…

Reflection 2

Well, they do call New York “the city that never sleeps”…

Masda (sic) is on one of the boards...chyrons…oh whatever. I don’t really know what to call the electronic screens, aside from that very name.

That cop looks kinda sleepy…(sarcastic->) not.

Okay, if I got this straight…Stan Lee is a psychic bad guy! Hahaha, that’s great!

Uh, hey. This guy with the power of Itsuka Kendou (BnHA)? Isn’t he basically a racist stereotype, if not a cliche? Stan Lee, what are you doing to my anime?

Stan Lee does kabedons. Never thought I’d see the day where that happened.

Here’s Spider-X-on again, LOL. Spider-dude, spider-dude, does whatever a spider-dude can…haha.

I think I saw I-Guy pass a Hard Rock Café as he flew. Stan Lee, please stop infringing on other people’s copyrights.

O-Oh, I never thought this, but if you can get air sickness from planes, why can’t you get it from mechanised suits too? I guess that’s what Stan Lee wants us to think.

So basically Tiger and Bunny: Stan Lee version? Hmph. I’ve read 6 volumes of the T & B manga, so I know most of the drift, but actually getting to see even a cheap version of it feels great.

Ah, I didn’t think they’d control the screens from LA. No wonder I-Guy had the perfect backgrounds.

Seriously, Ian? What’s your power???

Of course the Reflected become criminals. If you had a power you didn’t understand and people didn’t understand you, you’d turn evil too.

I never saw what was so good about tomato juice. Then again, I dislike tomatoes for absolutely no reason at all, so…yeah.

Seriously, what was so good about that little old blob, Eleanor? The footage was taken too far to discern whether that was Wraith or not.

[mysticalacursedone-blog]

FILL IN THE QUESTIONS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

TAGGED BY:  @fortunatenax

TAGGING: @ anyone who wants to do this!

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? 

“Cosmo!”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? "Cosmo....?  This isn’t a trick right?!  I’m sure my name is Cosmo Julius Cosma.  ISN’T IT?!”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT? "Something about babies and stars.”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? "Been married for over nine-thousand, eight-hundred, ninety five years ten weeks, eleven days, and  5 and a half hours.  But who’s counting how long I’m married?!  I’m immortal!”

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES? "Oh you know,” he waved his wand around, accidentally poofing things up in the process,”Magic... wish granting,  I CAN ALSO DO THIS!”  An explosion happens.

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? “All natural green, baby!”

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR? "You will never know....”

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “Yup!”

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? "How many times do I have to say that PHILIP IS NOT A PET!?  She’s a NICKEL and one of my BEST FRIENDS!  Sure, I take care of her and tuck her in at night, read her bedtime stories but she’s a friend!  Unless you were talking about my ant, Carl or Cat Jimmy, or my Bee Cindy.  They’re all gone now.  Oh yea...   I just got this cute creature called a gremlin!  It’s getting late I forgot to feed it.  I’ll feed it when I get back home, just a little past midnight!  Shouldn’t be too late.”

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. Super toilet comes to mind. “Why did you-  WHY DID YOU BRING THAT UP?!”

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME? “I do whatever my mind tells me to do...  I have a few but it winds up in the ‘Something totally stupid’ category as my wife likes to say.”

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? "Unintentionally....”

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE? "I sunk a city.....”

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? "EVERY KIND!  IT’S A PERK OF BEING A FAIRY GODPARENT!” Cosmo turns himself into almost every animal on the planet.

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. “People tell me I’m over dramatic.  Maybe I overreact too soon.  I’m not that bright...”

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE? ”There’s Militin Dimawitz, Diana Degarmo...”

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? “Only when Timmy takes us to school with him- I mean... LOOK I’M A CHINCHILLA!” Cosmo quickly turns himself into a chinchilla.

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY? "I already said I’ve been married for over nine-thousand, eight-hundred, ninety five years ten weeks, eleven days, and  5 and a half hours to my wife Wanda.  Such a long time... and going to be longer because I don’t die.  I have a son, Poof.  I did it all.”

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS? "Oh yea!  Lots of fans!  I’m really popular on Timmy TV!”

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? "Super..... Toilet....  IT ATE THE WHOLE PLUNGER!”

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? "Black pants, white shirt, black tie, my crown.”

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? “My wife, Wanda.”

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? “Class?!  I’m not in school anymore.”

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? "I got a few.”

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? "YUMMY!”

27. FAVORITE DRINK? “Milkshakes!”

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? "Pluto, it’s where I keep my corn.  And Corn is nice. And Home, I like home too.”

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? "My Wife?  Why is this confusing?”

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE? “I think it’s big.  I never went in there.  Between you and me, I don’t go in human stores that much but, I perfer MODELLS over dicks.  Modells has a catchier song!  Gotta go to moes, MODELLS!”

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Anything is fine!  Unless, I run into Atlantiains..”

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’? "Now I’m confused.”

34. ANY FETISHES? “Fetishes?  Feta Cheese is ok. But I perfer Cheddar Cheese instead!  It taste much better and goes with everything!  It’s  my favourite kind of cheese!”

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? "What?”   O_o

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS? “Both!”

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER? "This was an interview?”

[deltaengineering]

Winter Anime 2017 Part 3: The one where I get lazy

It’s that time of the season where I didn’t get around to doing these posts for a couple of days, which at least gives me an excuse to go through a lot of shows very quickly. I’ll start with the especially worthless shorts.

Nyanko Days

Nyanko Days is 2 minutes of a friendless highschooler cat-lady-in-training hanging out with her moe archetype cats. Can’t say it isn’t cute, but... yeaaah.

One Room

It’s pretty incredible that One Room is apparently an original, since it’s essentially the final boss Dark Souls Male Gaze Simulator 2017 of VN adaptations: Four minutes of your moeblob neighbor asking the viewer to study with her, presented in first person. And man, that guy just can’t keep his eyes from wandering. I’m not going to lie, compared to the usual dumb comedy short this is at least something else, even though it’s obviously terrible. The funniest thing is that the already have Female Gaze Simulator 2017 lined up for next season.

Piace - Watashi no Italian

Back to things you’ve seen before, this is Working in an Italian restaurant. It being so short prevents any character stuff from occurring so it’s just manzai comedy, moeblobs and boobs with a slightly weird character design. Unlike the last few seasons bishoujo shows are not rare in this one, so I don’t see why you’d take this over any of the others.

Chiruran - Nibun no Ichi

I have no idea what this is supposed to be, since it’s apparently a spinoff of something else? In any case it’s some vaguely Touken Ranbu-ish thing where chibi boys with swords are cute. Whatever.

Kemono Friends

We’re done with the shorts now, but this is the one show that I can’t believe isn’t one. Not only is it classic short material (cheap and badly animated CG, gijinka hangout concept, based on a mobile game), it also has about enough content to fill 2 minutes. But it’s not two minutes. This isn’t the worst show I’ve watched this season, but it has to be the most boring: a girl who is a girl and a girl who is a serval walk around for 24 minutes and talk about... well, nothing, unless you count dropping properly capitalized jargon words like “Friend” a lot. Oh, and there’s a few instances of completely laughable “action”. Suffice it to say that the barebones personalities on display here can’t sustain this, and the only other Friend who shows up briefly is a hippo who doesn’t manage to add much variety. So it doesn’t even do a good job of showing off the game’s character designs, which was clearly the intention here. The studio must have been very surprised that Nexon paid for 12x24m of this, and their struggle to fill that may be amusing to think about but doesn’t make this any more watchable.

ACCA - 13-ku Kansatsu-ka

Someone sure likes their handsome guys in uniforms. ACCA is shameless styleservice: Apart from the pretty boys (and girls) in broad-shouldered suits and ties, this features great art direction, a very pretty setting and cool jazz music. It’s just that the content is almost gleefully anti-interesting: What we have here is basically Rolling Girls, but about a guy with bedroom eyes who travels around looking cool while smoking, eating cake and... auditing. Yes, looking at spreadsheets has never been this stylish. Somehow this entire thing seems like the result of a dare, but I can’t help being intrigued nonetheless. The style can carry it for a bit, and maybe the plot will pick up. And if it doesn’t, it’s still possible that I can get used to it being mainly about its own presentation - Non Non Biyori for hepcats and male tailoring afficionados, essentially. Gonna keep an eye on this.

Chain Chronicle - Haecceitas no Hikari

It turns out that Chain Chronicle had some movies previously, and while I can’t say if those help with understanding it, it’s never a good idea to drop the viewer right into a huge brawl involving about 30 characters with no introduction whatsoever. I get the appeal of opening your series with everyone getting spanked by the final boss right at the start, but come on. After that’s over, Chain Chronicle turns out to be, well.. a serious mobile fantasy game adaptation. Which means all your favorite rare cards show up for a second and then some generic plot about saving the world from the Dark Lord starts. It seems to have quite a bit of money behind it, but if it has any amount of originality or ambition, I'm not seeing it in the first episode and that’s where it needs to be for me to give this a second thought.

elDLIVE

eIDLIVE is a Weekly Shounen Jump manga by Akira Amano, whose main work is Hitman Reborn, but is mainly known to the more discerning crowd for the Psycho-Pass character designs; my first impression is that the main character looks a whole lot like Akane. But unlike Butcher-brand grimdarkness, eIDLIVE is a silly action comedy that seems to trend young even for the Jump crowd - read, it’s a bunch of random nonsense with outrageous faces. It splits the difference between juvenile humor ala Heybot and a standard shounen superhero plot, and that’s pretty painful both ways. The only thing it has going for it is that it has a colorful, stylized presentation, but looking like a more stylish HeroAca doesn’t sufficiently endear it to me either, especially since a Jump adaptation by Pierrot is likely to be rather... long, both in runtime and in slow plot bullshit.

Gabriel DropOut

Guess what, Dogakobo is adapting an ostensibly funny manga about cute girls again. And of course it looks pretty nice as usual; so let’s talk about the source material. Gabriel DropOut is about angels (and demons) that visit a regular high school for some reason. Its one joke is that the angels range from lazy slobs to outright rotten, and the demons range from responsible and nice to being too stupid to be evil. What a twist! The astute watcher may notice that this is essentially Sansha Sanyou with the conceit much more clearly pushed to the forefront, and this doesn’t even have the occasional crazy sakuga outbursts of Sansha Sanyou while not being any more interesting. In a season where this type of show is making a strong comeback, I see no reason to bother with it unless you need to watch all of the bishoujo anime.

Hand Shakers

If you told me that Hand Shakers is a subversive art piece from the fringes of the superflat movement, I would be inclined to believe you. Of course, that’s probably not the intention here: this is GoHands, and making eye-searingly ugly and garish anime is just what they do. And they’ve outdone themselves this time, their trademark Instagram color gradient filter is only the start here. An out-of-control camera that highlights the Google Sketchup-tier 3D backgrounds (with the added benefit of the 2D foregrounds often not quite matching up, to nauseating effect), the CG “special” effects that Gonzo did better in 2004, the outright use of photo cutouts for anything too complicated to model, the bizarre character work that resembles a cheap mid-2000s eroge, the random wandering highlights on shiny objects; if this was Takashi Murakami or Inu Curry, we’d all be scrambling to see the hidden meaning in this dumpster fire that could easily double as a scathing parody of KyoAni’s recent love of postprocessing. And ironically that meaning wouldn’t even be hard to find, since the story (as far as I was able to follow it, reading the subs is hard when your eyes are bleeding) could also double as a satire of shitty shounen plots: A guy gets superpowers by holding hands with his waifu and has to fight other pairs in ridiculous relationships; clearly someone thought this was very meaningful indeed, especially when the enemy pair is an asshole and his BDSM sub (incidentally a plot point last seen in none other than Valkyrie Drive). On top of this, the script does the impressive double whammy of only blatantly expositing via lots of jargon without actually explaining anything.

So yeah, Hand Shakers is absolutely, stupefyingly horrible, to the point where I’m totally down to watch it. It’s probably not meant to be a genre sendup like Mayoiga was, but with a bit of Death of the Author it can easily double as one. And hey, it’s still easier to digest than Occultic;Nine.

Idol Jihen

You know, an anime about a version of Japan where politics are run via idol competitions really has no business being this fucking boring. With that setup, you’d at least expect it to be a comedy (or better yet a satire - just read the above sentence again, it basically writes itself), but somehow it only manages to be a slightly above-average regular idol show, with as little as you can say about those as usual. Usual characters, usual music, usual ganbaru. Seriously, it’s pretty amazing how little the politics aspect ends up mattering, that must have taken some effort. I didn’t really feel Macross Delta, but that at least did a better job making its “idols where they don’t belong” subject matter work. It’s possible that this show discovers its potential somewhere along the way, but if the beginning was a fakeout intended to show that this is run-of-the-mill idol shenanigans, it may have done a little too well at that; my takeaway was mainly that silly universe aside, yes, I’ve seen this before, and no, I don’t need to see more of it.

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon

So after years of “Dogakobo is the new KyoAni while KyoAni is off doing their own thing”, KyoAni is back in the game of adapting ostensibly funny manga about cute girls. I’m not shocked that the results are pretty much identical, this is what happens if you adapt 4koma humor in a flat, colorful style and put some effort in it. Maidragon (the manga) is, if nothing else, better than Gabriel DropOut, but not decidedly so. Production values aside (and while nice, Maidragon is no Nichijou and not even a Sansha Sanyou), it’s just the standard magical girlfriend shit of yore; that the main character lucking into a magical maid is female here makes very little difference in practice. Kobayashi as a character is at least a bigger draw than the usual nothings in something like this (and definitely bigger than zany boob dragon maid Tohru); she’s moody, somewhat acerbic and a maid fundamentalist - i.e., anti-fanservice/cosplay maids. If I’m going to watch one of these shows, it might as well be the one that has me as the main character... but it’s entirely possible that I get tired of this very quickly.

Kuzu no Honkai

Kuzu no Honkai (aka Scum’s Wish) is based on a hyped drama manga, so I expected to see the next 3-gatsu, and I’m still not convinced by 3-gatsu a whole season in. But where 3-gatsu is overall still mostly a warm iyashikei blanket where even Rei’s depression due to hilariously tragic backstory seems mostly intended to elicit wanting to give him a hug, Scum’s Wish is, for better or for worse, the real deal: A sexually charged story about awful, not even remotely likeable characters, most closely related to something like Aku no Hana. As of episode one it pulls no punches with the horny kisses and it’s noitaminA, so it’s a looker too - it’s cool how everything is in shoujo sparklevision except when it comes to the making out, which comes across as pretty grimy. In theory I’m all for something like this, but well... watching a girl fuck some other guy because she can’t fuck her brother, who is fucking some other girl, who is the one that the guy fucking the first girl can’t fuck, is just not what I’m into, especially if I’m not even supposed to like the characters. Pity Fuck: The Animation is something that I feel like I shouldn’t disregard on its first episode alone, but I felt the same way about Aku no Hana and didn’t end up finishing that either.

Little Witch Academia

So here we go, the other big name of the season. Unsurprisingly, the LWA TV reboot is still LWA, so it’s pretty good. The animation remains pleasantly cartoony and expressive and it’s generally made with a lot of care. I still can’t help feeling slightly let down by it though: The basic concept of LWA already got threadbare halfway through the second movie, and since this just starts from the beginning again, there definitely isn’t anything new. The best I can come up with is that it’s even more of a Harry Potter clone than it was before (yes, that is actually possible), but that’s not winning it any points. Another weird thing is that the action, while hard to criticize on a technical level, comes across as strangely unengaging - I usually blame the editing in these cases. In any case, LWA is entertaining to watch for now but it has to go somewhere with its story and characters really soon if it wants to fill 24 episodes of TV anime. I can only forgive it treading water again for so long, no matter how well it’s put together.

Marginal#4 - Kiss kara Tsukuru Big Bang

And finally, here’s the idol boyband anime of the season. The only one, if I’m counting correctly. We used to get more even half a year ago, and to be quite honest I can’t really tell the difference anymore. It’s like all of those with all the characters one of those always has and comes in the variety without the self-insert main girl, if you want the finer details ask your local UtaPri specialist. Really the only thing that raises an eyebrow is that this is about four guys who try to start a school club while already being in an idol group, which seems slightly backwards? Having your cake and eating it too, maybe? Apart from that incredible innovation, possibly the most forgettable show in a forgettable genre.

[eastbridge-sb]

Eliteserien Asian Total Goals Match Previews – 23rd September Monday

Mjøndalen v Rosenborg

Rosenborg are in good form, unbeaten in 9 matches and are up to a solid 4th in the table. They are breathing down the neck of Odd and might even have Bodo/Glimt in their sights eventually. It’s taken RBK some time to settle down this season but now they are playing much better football under manager Eirik Horneland. I think the title is too far out of their reach. Making up 10 points on Molde in just nine games is unrealistic. But RBK have to believe they can finish as high as 2nd, or at worst third which would get them into Europe for next season. Rosenborg are of course currently involved in the Europa League group stage and were in action in Austria on Thursday night. At the time of writing the result of their match against LASK Linz is unknown but they can’t afford to prioritise the Europa League just yet.

Horneland has been rotating his squad during European weeks this year and he may do the same again here. Rosemborg have a massive squad at their disposal though and guys like Botheim and Ceide are more than capable of causing MIF problems. One thing we do know is that right winger David Akintola is suspended. I personally worry for Mjøndalen and think they will be ultimately relegated. They just don’t have the quality and I expect Rosenborg to prove too strong for them here. There is a chance the visitors could be affected by their trip to Austria though so i think a better bet is over 2.75 goals.

The clean sheet Mjøndalen picked up at Haugesund last week (0-0) was their first in quite some time. Their defence has looked quite leaky in recent months, whilst for some reason Rosenborg themselves seem incapable of a shutout anymore. I think the strong physical approach from the hosts could cause some problems to RBK, although midfield captain Christian Gauseth is rated doubtful due to injury. The previous meeting between the sides this season ended in a 3-2 win for RBK and a high scoring encounter is what I’m expecting again.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 2.75 goals at 2.080

Stabaek v Molde

The last round was a very good one for Molde. They comfortably beat Tromso 3-0 at home whilst title rivals Bodo/Glimt and Odd both slipped up. In the case of Odd, their defeat at Viking may well have ruled them out of the title race. It looks like a head to head battle now between Molde and Glimt. Whatever happens on Sunday between Ranheim and Bodo, MFK know that they will still be top on goal difference. So a victory or even a draw here in Stabaek would give them some sort of gap on second place. But it will be all three points they target at the Nadderud Stadion. Molde are unbeaten in ten games, winning seven of those fixtures and scoring plenty of goals in the process. It seems like head coach Erling Moe is preferring Leke James upfront at the moment and Ohi Omoijuanfo is being left out in the cold on the bench. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Ohi given the start against his old club this Monday night though. Molde have no new injury concerns and should have a very healthy squad form which to pick from.

Stabaek are fighting for their lives and surprised everyone by drawing 3-3 away at Bodo/Glimt last Sunday. They are a much improved outfit under manager Jan Jonsson and since he took charge nobody has beaten them easily. This can be a tricky venue to play at with natural grass and the crowd getting on top of the opposition players. It’s certainly a ‘banana skin’ type fixture for Molde anyway. However, it’s a test I would expect them to pass. Molde are the best team in the Eliteserien and appear to have confidence all over the field. But it’s especially in midfield and attack where they seem to have some great options, always capable of breaking down opposition defences. MFK can be backed around the even money mark on a -0.5 Asian Handicap but my preferred pick is over 2.75 goals. A good number of Molde away matches have been high scoring this season and we know after last week that Stabaek won’t hold any fear facing one of the top teams. I would expect something like a 3-1 away victory with a very good chance of these overs landing.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 2.75 goals at 1.870

Preview by: @meatmansoccer.

Access these prices from Steve Wyss’ selections for this weekend’s Eliteserien match through Skype Betting now.

The post Eliteserien Asian Total Goals Match Previews – 23rd September Monday appeared first on Eastbridge.

source https://eastbridge-sb.com/eliteserien-asian-total-goals-match-previews-230919/

[wonderingangelsuniverse]

February 2nd 2018

I don’t even know where to start with all the many things that have been going on as of late. I can’t decide if I should start with two weeks ago or just begin with today. Well there has been an abundance of anger going on within me. I think today is a good example of this. We were all sitting on the couch. I was drinking my coffee remembering back in the day when we used to all meet up really late at night and go to the diner together. The boys would add so much sugar to their coffee. Hope and ApprenticeBoi were reading and Moe was stirring up the whole living room with his intense boredom. That’s when out of fucking no where at 2:30pm Hope just had a seizer mid conversation. He looked around the room and then bam. Kept his page for a while even. I just went and got his dad because I was so pissed off I couldn’t decide fast enough to push him over or let him remain on the couch. Hope and I’ve become significantly closer sense I’ve returned back to Hawaii. I guess his condition keeps getting worse and worse. I swear I can’t remember a time when this has happened so randomly. He bit his tong making blood spewed all over the couch. Gabe heard me tell ApprenticeBoi that he was having a seizer because the small ignorant boy started laughing. Apparently our student teacher relationship is very close as well as I didn’t fucking flip for his immature behavior. The only comment I ended up making was something along the lines of, “ How about you sit and read your book instead of making terrible comments.” He seemed to listen to me as I was being quite urgent. I wasn’t mad at him though. I then spaced out and asked Gabe what he was getting ready for right after he took a shower. I can’t say I’ve been being super bright these days either. I have a theory that I’m just not listening to me as well unless I verbally state what I’m saying. Update: I just talked to Hope’s dad and he mentioned that Hope had just gotten up. That makes this whole situation a lot less concerning to me. I guess the neurologist had explained that he tends to have a his episodes in the time where his brain is beginning to boot up after awakening. I didn’t realize how long it takes for a brain to start running but I also didn’t realize that they could know so much about his problem and yet still not completely fix it.  

Who’s Gabe? Yeah, that goes back two weeks ago when I started this whole gig cleaning air planes. A week before MelloMad and I started Gabe had gotten fired due to the closer of the Santa Maria unit of the airplane company. Sandy, the head director of the airline for Hawaii is stationed in Kona and for the most part to my understanding he runs at least Honolulu as well. He called Gabe only a day after he was fired to offer him a place with the intimate group of mechanics here on the Big Island which was apparently about a month before he came here, That’s when he stayed in the pilot’s grew house for about a month. I guess around six months ago Gabe’s goil Lee Ann died a slow death due to the cancers. I know this experience very well. I feel like Gabe and I are meant to be friends.

Jerry, the lead mechanic of the later in the weak mechanics groups, Wednesday to Saturday, was the blessed man to get us the job cleaning. He lives only up the road from us. He would have been able to help us out in these hard two weeks that nearly drove me to stabbing my best friend haha. I said, “would” for a damn good reason though. The day of the missile or that Saturday, he was riding his motorcycle through an intersection and like most nearly fatal biking accidents was drove into by a car trying to make a left turn. It really is a shame for both Jerry and the now traumatized driver of the car. I guess from what I heard, Jerry got up and walked over to the guy to give him what he deserved in violent words, which tells you the kind of guy Jerry is, before he sat down declaring that he thinks he needs an ambulance. One of the other mechanics on the other shifts neighbor found him and called the emergency services. We saw him last weekend and oh my was he bruised and shattered. His hole left side was completely wrecked. He shattered on of his knee caps and had a giant circular chunk taken out of his leg. His other knee is broken and both spots right above his ankles are fucked. He’s going to be out of work for four months. He told us he’s headed to his mom’s in Cali. I don’t blame him. I would want my mom as well.

With Jerry out of the picture, MelloMad and I would have to rely on the fact that BoldFuck and Mom-o-pan go to Kona each day if we are to return home. Sounds good yes? Our shift is from 8:30pm to 4:30 am. That means BoldFuck and Mom-o-pan cannot be that inconvenienced sense they have children. Fine, whatever, I get two weeks of helping us out while we wait to get paid does seem a little over whelming.... We did get the job in the first place so BoldFuck could quote on quote stay home with his kids. More about this later. I’m so happy to be writing after all this time omg. Alright any how, all these sentences lead up to the fact that Kona Airport is sitting in a dry hot lava rock climate around five miles from the city. No money combined with MelloMad’s inability to walk long distances for some form of foot related problem leaves us stranded at the airport all week. MelloMad and I managed to find a nice culvert buried deep under the highway to take refuge in. The two of us kind of swore off BoldFuck and Mom-o-pan after that because honestly this was insane. I’d end up paying four hundred of the four hundred and thirty seven dollars I made on my first weeks work to them for the month of January after I spent two weeks of that month sleeping in a fucking storm drain.You crazy fucking assholes.

This is where Gabe. our Hispanic 47 year old friend from the gangster areas of both Nevada and LA, would come in. He had the pilot’s car, I can’t remember the model lol. It was a really small two door car that wasn’t even a hatchback. We banned together with him since he was sleeping in this car as he both already blew all of his money on women and alcohol and the fact that Kona living is nearly impossible. Between the three of us our best bet would be to find a car over a house so we could in fact live. Hilariously I found a great deal on this apartment that I’m half tempted to keep trying for, for the four of us. I have a small wish of chilling in the condos shared backyard pool in a pink floaty, like the man from when we were on Hilo side chilling with my wondrous Angel of Melody. Haven’t texted her in a hot minute haha.

Angel of Melody is actually a great segway to why I think Gabe and I are meant to be friends. When he did return the car he joined us for about a week and half in the storm drain. BoldFuck and Mom-o-Pan would come pick us up for the weekend but man does rivet-y metal cylinders *fuck me* sucks to sleep in. I’m gay and I think that amazing and magical fact has to come with some form of repercussion in itself for I live in a time where abnormality, although worshiped, often is actually frowned upon. “It’s good to be unique!” Lies I tell you, unless its going to make you an abundance of cash to swede people other wise. One person that we all know very well as Wondering Angels’s number one anti lesbianism antagonist is MelloMad. He could probably easily defend himself by stating that he doesn’t mind lesbians at all as he watches porn of it.. Maybe? I actually question that lol. Plus lesbian porn is fucking stupid. I tried to tell him but he told me it’s because I want the love and not the lust. It’s probably where I’m watching it. Honestly though, how many time’s do lesbians have to clearly state to people that scissoring isn’t the fucking bee’s knees of lesbian sex? I haven’t even had sex with another women yet and I can agree. I’d give you some sources to this from my hours of researching when I was having a crisis but…. I don’t have internet right now alongside the point that I just don’t want to. It’s hard for me to say something so opinionated on other peoples behalf sense I can imagine MelloMad seeing this as an opportunity to disprove my point. I could even imagine a different color text being typed across here like: This is MelloMad and your wrong because I never hear anyone say that. Yes, I understand your word is way cooler then mine, awesome. Even just yesterday when MelloMad was having a good day and I was asleep in the backseat, I heard him tell Gabe I needed to prove to him I’m gay. Gabe even told me MelloMad thinks I switched… SWITCHED. Look, what the fuck?! I actually did bother explaining to Gabe why this was and it brought up my mother which was good. Actually it all lines up really well. I’m just getting to good at my job. Gabe isn’t homophobic in the slightest and that’s so refreshing. Someone whom of which MelloMad has no influence over would like to hang out with me and isn’t homophobic haha, perfect right? So I can give Gabe support on Lee Ann and he can give me support on my very CLEAR gayness.

Can we stop here to speak about how I’m not fucking curious? Yes, we can because this is my letter to you and not the other way around. Here is a brief essay on why.

I am not curious because, I was born very gay, I have no sexual feeling towards men, and sex isn’t everything. When I was only hardly a handful of years old my brother Chris had a girlfriend named Christal. Christal was this super fucking hot blond chick that I would pretend was my girlfriend. When I was in the third grade I joined the boys and girls club because my friend Liza went there after school as well and she was really hot! I found out she was signed up for the other side of the club. I was quite lonely there but I continued to attend because this sixth grader named Sam, whom was another hot blond, walked the same way to the bus as I would. If I was fast enough getting out of class, I was able to catch her. My sister-in-law and my mom both knew I was gay. Mom’s always know! Secondly I am not curious because I have no sexual feeling towards men. That ALONE should be a good enough fucking reason you ignorant fuck. Finally FUCKTHIS.

Well teach, I didn’t probably not get a very good grade on dat essay but anyways, I don’t know much more about what’s going to happen between Gabe and I accept that he’s going to help me get some spine talking to women. He’s also taught me a bit about airplane mechanics and some Spanish. El avion esto muy limpio. El avion esto sucio. Airplanes are men in Spanish. I am Spanish as I am from Spain and therefore some Spanish won’t kill me sense its so widely spoken. I quite enjoy learning. Trying to get the sentence; my favorite game is life is strange, down now. It’s like: Mi favorito Jewenkn something something esto esto extrago or something. Yep lol one time reading it off Google translate and I got this haha! Ironically I can read Spanish quite well so if I wanted I could just translate everything but meh why not memorize it?  

Let’s go back to the spine and women thing. I was at Gabe’s favorite bar having a single IPA when I staring at the bar tenders ass as she was wearing this cute pair of black short shorts. I think it should be illegal to be that hot because why am I such a sucker for blonds with hips? Her name’s Shy. Gabe informed me last night that she’s trying to get a plane ticket to Maui for her birthday but she has a boyfriend to go with her. Gabe and I were talking before he found this other blond to be bothered with cause he knew what I didn’t and I mentioned to him again that I’m gay. I was trying to be obnoxious about it in hopes Shy would maybe start speaking of it but I think she sadly didn’t hear me. I guess repeating I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbian, isn’t going to help me get laid any faster but that’s why I need Gabe to help me out. Now, I didn’t think or think she heard me because she was in the other room. Now the sad part before I go on is that she’s the bar tender so she’s supposed to be nice for her own benefit. This is America after all. She could of easily of done this because I’m friends with Gabe or it could have been completely coincidental. Destiny does tend to spoil me. I did state I had no fucking money though and Gabe did buy me the beer. He’s a really good guy. Let me tell you, I was watching chopped all star addition. I’ve really fell out of chopped over the years but it gives me such a nostalgic feeling from back when that was our jam. Did my mom like chopped? I feel like we would watch it together when we were babysitting at my brothers. Remind me to mention this when I tell you something cool about lately. Next paragraph maybe. Alright back to Shy. She kind of was trying to talk to me but I couldn’t keep myself together at all. I was so damn nervous I wouldn’t stop touching myself all over my head like I was trying to calm myself. I had my hands tangled in my hair I was super insecure, I was just all wrong. Really I just wanted to watch Chopped, sadly. The extremely hot girl was making things so difficult. HER VOICE SOUNDED LIKE the Angel or Dreams or Dream Angel’s HELP. I can’t, alright, alright, okay okay. Gabe was gone and only one other person was at the bar. Now I was sitting by the TV where I could read the sub-tittles which happened to be by the register and most of the tap, oops. She had a moment and stopped to read the TV. I looked right at her like a not so sly moron. She turns to me and is like, “Oh she has a wife, that cool to see a lesbian on the show. They should have a strictly gay version of chopped.” She looks me dead in eyes and I just say, “Yeah then there wouldn’t be any room for discrimination.” That’s when the conversation was over. “I’d watch the shit out of that.” or “I’ve always wanted to be on chopped.” FUCKING ANYTHING REALTED TO ME WOULD OF HELPED. FOR FUCK SAKES I’m SUCH A NARASISTIC FUCK HALF THE TIME, ALWAYS SPEAKING OF ME AND HERE I AM COMING UP WITH A COMPLETELY NON ME RELATED THING TO SAY. I guess it’s better then being like, “Fuck me.” Rip…. I was so mad I just ignored her existence even harder and left the bar after drinking the rest of Gabe’s beer. I just angry ranted in the bathroom for a good hour after that. I was chilling in the car when MelloMad and Gabe thought they would pull a prank on me by trying to insist we needed to turn our badges in. I didn’t believe it because MelloMad wasn’t pissing angry. We just went to get Gabe’s new badge scanned for documentation and MelloMad and I’s member ID’s were in too. Now we can fly free on all of our flights. 

Well when we were at the bar and Gabe walked off with that blond, MelloMad messaged me cause I guess he was with Gabe about how the car might get toed sense we left it at our new bank. We opened an account before hand. When I got there I saw the notice from security  under the whipper. A parking violation warning. I snagged it up in so MelloMad didn’t have a direct reason to bitch around or at me. Well I guess he didn’t even see it at all. The blond Gabe was walking with was older and she was all over MelloMad whom was working on some music. He was getting more and more pissed at her annoying him. It was hilarious. We dropped her off at her house in which she was selling due to her Ex Husbands assholishness. I suggested she rent it out xD ;). Hope lost but later after their little fired prank they failed to pull off. I got Gabe good as I walked off, put the note back where it was but now in the airport parking lot and then went to rant in the bathroom as if I was busy. When I returned they both thought they drove with it on the windshield. YEAH totally. Gabe sounded worried for a second and I decided sense there prank was so shit, I’d quickly spoil my good one. I confessed to putting it there, luckily I didn’t get reamed but I also didn’t get a single laugh either which pissed me off anymore. 

All in all I’ve been hella angry lately. Considering how fucking anxious, depressed over his grandfathers sudden death, and emotional MelloMad has been due to just a random on slot of sudden change.. It sucks cause that’s all Gabe knows MelloMad for. Yet Gabe is/has been slightly over emotional too. I don’t blame either of them so I just sit SILENTLY. Somehow I’ve remained mostly silent. I think it might have thrown MelloMad through a bit of a loop. I’m never quiet but I to know I’ve had quite a bit of anxiety therefore to remain strong I’ve just kept quiet during any even potential arguments or problems that could a rise verbally. I must say even with my efforts there has been twice now where I’ve snapped at MelloMad. One time over me trying to help MelloMad find a solution he can effectively use regarding a bank account which we already went over, we both opened one. I was trying to get him to open maybe a pay-pal. You can use a debit card, master card or vista, bought for roughly a dollar or so or even order a pay-pal debit card. No banks involved in that option. MelloMad insisted that at max three dollars was to much but can’t get over them holding his check for over twenty four hours. Obviously both quite irrational rebuttal and to his surprise the nice man who set us up with an account made sure our money didn’t get held. So fuck me for trying to help. The other argument was at work and was literally over how much sugar per flood ounce was in both the tea and monster energy drink and which had more sugar. Yeah I to got tired of this argument just reading that sentence. This is what happened, seriously this is ridiculous as is. I was board and I calculated his tea as the two servings which would come out to 54 grams of sugar in his entire 24 ounce bottle. I didn’t calculate as two servings and did the math of 19 grams of sugar for the 16 ounces. Obviously mine already has less sugar? Well that’s about 1.2 grams of sugar per ounce on the Monster and 2.3 grams of sugar per ounce of tea meaning the tea had double the sugar per ounce. I didn’t even explain all my reasoning to Erwin when he concluded that I was terrible wrong. I listened even though he never gave me a breath to fully explain especially after he pointed out there was in fact two servings in my Monster. He also insisted over and over that there was three times more sugar in my Monster. Well like I said I’m not afraid to be wrong. I love it. usually if said person doesn’t make me feel like shit over it. My love for learning usually out weighs all. So the Monster had 38 grams of sugar to its 16 ounces meaning there also 2.3ish maybe 2.4 grams of sugar per ounce. For some reason when I did the math last time and fixed it and then did it on my calculator the tea had exactly 2.2 percent more sugar per ounce but that doesn’t make any sense meow unless somehow the second time I calculated it during the argument I managed to calculate the percentage. I mean 27 twice is 54 and dividing that by 24 goes into 2 and 6/24 which is in fact 2.4. Which I mean if you just multiply my first answer my 2 its still going to come out the same amount of sugar per fluid once. No matter what it isn’t three times...  I was quite angry he even accused me of interrupting so I suckered him into interrupting me lol. I am considering the idea that he might be literally going insane. I also think MelloMad has a hard time accepting that I am actually very smart. Considerably and debatably, smarter then him. He was frustrated that I finished signing up for the websites we use at work with so much faster then he. He was almost instantly mad at the computer as soon as he laid eyes on it though so I don’t know what he expected. I don’t see why in anyway it matters if I’m in anyway shape or form more ineffectual. I wasn’t born smart I worked hard to be smart. He could easily do this as well and I know for a fact there are things I know not much about that MelloMad knows plenty of. We are equal even if so. I wonder if he just sees me normally as less adiquite so when I do prove him wrong its more frustrating. I on the other hand hold MelloMad to an equal standard. If he does fail in any way I trust him to figure it out or at least I’ll help him. I’m talking so much shit about him because of how frustrated I’ve been with him lately. I really hate how much pent up anger I have even if I know exactly why its happening. I have to go off to work in thirty minutes so I’ll have to continue this whole part another time.

My Mom loved chopped. Remember that sentence? Well My sister-in-law friended me recently on facebook. I’d imagine I’ve mentioned it. I saw a heartwarming post of before she friended me about how she was having a coffee totie 2 remember her Mother-in-Law I nearly broke down crying. I don’t believe in evil. I can’t see the evil. I even had Guy admit to me that hell as of now, according to the Bible, doesn’t and won’t exist until judgment day. I think its ironic and amazing that I was finally able to get him to confess. By the way, I’m not Christian. MelloMad in the mist of our difucklty was contacted by his father’s sisters. His aunts he didn’t know of. This inspired me with my new found friendship on facebook to ask my sister-in-law of my own half sister. I didn’t know her name until now but I’ve known of her for a long time. I’ll have to tell you all about her later but I told her all about me and as soon as she’s completed her cool nursing exam she will respond to her long lost sisters brief life summary. She didn’t even know I existed until I messaged her haha. Well anyways I have to go to work. Stay awesome Pain!              

PS can’t forget about last nights anxiety dream about the room change. That song I showed to jenny. The dream was much wow. Very refreshing and Hope there too    

[llantano]

The Darkened Glass, 1. The Storm

By Jaemlyn

Dorian considered herself to be a pleasant person under most circumstances. However, on this particular day she found herself at odds with everyone who crossed paths with her. She knew she was being unpleasant, but somehow couldn't help herself. "Where's the sugar?" she demanded of Moe in the kitchen of La Boulaie, digging through the cabinets and not finding it where she expected. Her temper flared, aware that Moe was not in the room; so she resorted to screaming. "Moe!!??" Ray Montez entered the room from the hallway and spoke calmly and quietly in his thick South American accent. "Moe has gone to the grocery. Is there something I can help you with, Dorian?"

She slammed the cabinet door shut angrily. "No! I am just trying to make myself a cup of tea - but don't worry about it. I'll drink it unsweetened." She huffed, carrying her cup and saucer to the nearby table and sitting down with her back to the wall. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, still calm. She didn't look up at him as she poured cream into her tea and stirred it. "As a matter of fact, I do mind." He turned to her, slightly surprised by her remark. She looked up at him and shrugged as if he should have already known the answer she had just given. Ray turned his back and leaned on the counter-top, looking out the window. "Looks like a good storm blowing up. Maybe we should check the weather, do you think?" "The only thing you need to check is your daughter," Dorian snapped. "Lola? She is at school right now. The same place as your own daughter." Dorian offered him her best scowl. "You know what I meant." Ray invited himself to sit down across the table from her. "Dorian, you know I am having some trouble with Lola right now." "Really," Dorian asked sarcastically. "I need your patience with this," he told her, laying the palms of his hands flat on the table with emphasis. "I need you to be patient with Lola, and with me. I was gone for a long time, and she was hurt. There are many things we need to work through so I can get through to her." "Yes, I agree with you," Dorian offered sincerely before her voice turned cold again. "And in the meantime Langston has to put up with all of Lola's crap." Ray took a deep breath and remained cool. "Your daughter deserves to have the best possible treatment from her family...." "That's right," Dorian interrupted, sneering and pointing at herself. "And she does, from my family." Ray stood again and walked to the kitchen island, leaning on it, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "You know, all her life Lola has had the things that meant most to her taken away. She was denied her mother, her home, and myself. Lola has learned to fight for the things she wants in life." He raised his hand to stop Dorian when her mouth opened to speak. "I am not making excuses for her behavior. She needs to learn what is and isn't appropriate - especially when it comes to family. But I am asking you to see her as a girl who needs our help, Dorian." A sudden flash lit the kitchen and the lights flickered momentarily as a large boom of thunder rattled the windowsill. Dorian frowned up at the lights, speaking somewhat more calmly and letting the storm embody her frustration. "I can identify with Lola, in a way," she admitted. "But you can't let her get away with this type of behavior. There have to be consequences, and in this case I'm afraid it is going to have to be more than a simple apology." Ray pooched his lips out, wondering if he should keep them shut. "Perhaps if Langston would have actually accepted Lola's apology...." Dorian slapped the surface of the table with both hands, sloshing tea onto the place-mat. "You actually fall for the cutesy little goody-two-shoes act she does, don't you? 'Oh, Papi, I don't know what to do!'" She mimicked Lola as she stood angrily and stepped toward Ray. "You watch your back, Papi, or Lola is going to wound you the same way she did Langston." Another unexpected clap of thunder shook the house as Dorian stomped out of the room. Ray waited a moment before following her to the sitting room. She was standing at the French doors, watching the dark rain streak down the panes, her back to him. "Dorian," he said calmly. She barely even acknowledged that he had entered the room. He stepped nearer, laying his hands on her small shoulders carefully. "Dorian, may I ask a favor of you?" She turned to him and sighed. "Maybe we should check the weather. You know, it is awfully dark out there for this time of day." She pulled away from him and crossed the room, picking up the television remote and turning the weather on. Ray took a deep breath and walked over to her side again. "Could you do me a favor, Dorian?" he asked again. She inspected the red radar blobs on the screen for a moment and then turned to him, drooping her shoulders, relenting. "What is it, Ray?" "I think what I am lacking in this situation with Lola is a woman's sensibilities about her daughter." He took both of Dorian's hands in his own. "You're kidding me," she shook her head, annoyed and amused. "You want me to speak to Lola?" "I think it could help. Perhaps give me more insight into this situation." The television screeched suddenly, grabbing their attention. "The National Weather Service in Philadelphia has just issued a tornado ... warning ... for the following counties in Pennsylvania: Llantano. If you are in the area of Llantano County you should take cover immediately. At 1:55 p.m. radar indicated a storm capable of producing high, damaging winds and dime-sized hail. Stay away from windows and take shelter immediately. Repeat: The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for Llantano County, Pennsylvania...." Both adults blinked at the television for a moment and then looked around the room. Dorian watched the wind through the French doors and looked up at the lights. "What do they do," Ray asked, stunned, "at school?" Dorian swallowed nervously. "Oh, um." She put her hand to her neck, thinking. "They take every precaution - usually put the children in the safest place." She turned in a circle, worried. "I have been to the school. It is a solid building." "Yes," Dorian agreed, still a bit stunned. "Oh, yes, of course! You know these weathermen - they are just looking out for our safety. He didn't say a tornado had been spotted or had touched down." "That's good, right?" Dorian paced a bit. "Yeah, I mean.... It is probably just a rotation in the ... atmosphere or whatever. Nothing to worry about!" A large flash filled the room, this time simultaneous with a cacophonous thunderclap and an immediate loss of power to the house. The room went pitch black and eerily still. Outside, the storm roared with a force - the only noise the two could hear until their eyes adjusted to the dim light and one of them spoke again. "Maybe we should take cover ourselves," Ray suggested. Dorian paced away from him a bit so that he couldn't see her face. "No, um, you go ahead. The safest place is the closet under the stairs." He stepped closer to her, concerned. "You don't want to go someplace safe, Dorian?" She spun to face him again in the dark room. "Oh, no," she lied, smiling, feigning confidence. "You know, even if there was a tornado that had touched down, which I'm sure there isn't, it could be all the way on the other side of the county. There's a flashlight and a radio in the kitchen. I'll just listen to the weather on the radio and let you know when the storm has passed." They were both startled when a loud roar filled the room. Ray looked up at the ceiling and back at Dorian, who was cringing. He had to raise his voice so she could hear him. "What is that noise?" She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax, gazing out the French doors again. "Hail!" she answered, watching the branches outside blow and twist in the wind. Ray hurried to her side and peered out. He purposefully spoke calmly. "Even if there isn't a tornado here right now -- that weather is dangerous. We need to go someplace safe - both of us." Dorian moved to the center of the room slowly. "We'll be fine," she assured him. "Why don't you want to take cover?" he queried, still concerned. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened to the rattle of the hail against the outside walls of the house. "I told you," she said measuredly, lifting her finger for emphasis, "I am going to go to the kitchen to get a flashlight and the radio." "I'm going with you then," he nodded as she started back out of the room. She shrugged as he followed. The kitchen was pitch black. Dorian remembered the flashlight being in the drawer next to the kitchen door, but as she fumbled in the drawer she couldn't lay her hands on it. "Aaggh!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Ever since Moe came I can't find anything in here!" She slammed the drawer shut with a bang. It was barely audible against the backdrop of wind, hail, and thunder. Ray stood behind her and gently laid his hands on her arms, leaning close to her ear so she could hear him. "Calm. We will find it. I'll help you." He kept his hands on each side of her until he was sure she had calmed down. "Now, where should be the next place we look?" Her arms shook slightly as her muscles tensed again. She clenched her fists in frustration. "I don't know!" A deafening crash suddenly resounded from next to them and they both jumped, shocked, as a tree branch shattered the nearby window, sending shards of glass flying across the countertop and floor. Dorian covered her ears as the sounds outside were instantly amplified and the roar of the weather intruded upon her kitchen. Ray grasped her arm, yelling loudly so she could hear him. "It isn't safe to be out here! We have to take cover!" In an instant, he had his arm around her back and had guided her back into the hallway. The wind was whipping through the kitchen toward the front door and any loose papers were being whirled around and blown into unknown corners. Dorian jerked away from Ray as he opened the closet door. "No," she protested. The wind continued to toss the tree branch in the window, shattering more of the glass as Dorian took a few steps back. "What is the matter?" Ray asked, trying to remain calm with Dorian against his better instincts. "It is dangerous out here! We have to go in the closet!" She shook her head at him gravely. "I don't want to...." The lightning strike that followed her statement was so close that they practically heard the thunder before they noticed the flash, even over the roar of the chaotic wind. The house rumbled ominously - every fiber of its construction vibrating. Dorian clutched at her chest; almost sure it had skipped a beat. Ray couldn't stand it anymore. He threw his arms around Dorian and pulled her into the closet, shutting the door.

2. Fear and Fury