yeeHAW

Random Assortment of Ghibli’s Howl’s Moving Castle Thoughts

Because I rewatched it today for the first time in many years and it’s one of those miraculous works that not only remaine as magical as I remembered it through childhood eyes, but if anything was even more magical as an adult and in more complex ways. I’ve finally got words for at least some of the things I was processing only subconsciously as a kid, so here we go. 

- The sneaky underlying theme of deeply flawed mother figures in this movie. Drives me nuts. The narrative doesn’t go out of its way to condemn these characters, it takes a characteristically phlegmatic nonjudgemental view of them, but it feels like this is low-key a stealth Mommy Issues story. (Making it go 🤝 with Dragon Age 2 in my head lol) Sophie’s mother does not seem to be consciously malicious but is intensely smotheringly self-absorbed and immature to the point where it has clearly been neglectful, and on the other side of the ‘Overly Permissive/Neglectful to Overly Authoritarian/Controlling’ scale of shitty parenting Suliman is controlling and invasive and heedless of boundaries. (Notice that her real complaint about Howl entering the contract with Calcifer and thus losing his heart seems to be that it means she can no longer control him and his grasp on magic, more than actual worry for him as a person. Her presence in his life is largely, ironically, paternalistic. She even frames it as something he blundered into incompetently — phrasing as him having had his heart stolen, rather than the mutual agreement we see Howl and Calcifer make even if they couldn’t know all the consequences it would have.) In the end Sophie breaks the circle by managing to be an engaged and responsive mother figure to Markl and making an actual home with the people closest to her. 

Interestingly Howl at his worst seems to be much more like Sophie’s mother than like Suliman — he leaves Markl to handle things he really shouldn’t have to alone all the time and is noted to barely be home anyway, in the beginning especially he’s flighty and vivacious and evasive (not to mention aggressively blond haha) in some of the same patterns we see her mom exhibit. Since Lettie is quite like their mother in terms of looks and sociability, we might infer that Sophie takes more after their father (including in choice of spouse lol). But crucially when the chips are down Howl is ready to protect Sophie and their home with his life rather than abandon her, in sharp contrast with her mother. I like that the movie doesn’t vilify Sophie’s mom for what she does, as such, it’s a pretty impossible position to be in for anyone… but it is just an extension of what she’s apparently been doing for a long time anyway, privileging other parts of her life and her own comfort over her daughter’s wellbeing and happiness. (Adds a certain spice and heartache to how scared Sophie is that Howl is going to leave them, too. And her fear that it would be because she’s fundamentally not good enough, beautiful enough, clever enough for anyone to choose her and stay with her. Ooof. Girl he’s been looking for you everywhere girl he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world girl it’ll be okay)

- Relatedly: the unspeakably sinister vibes and implications of Suliman’s fucking… army of little Ersatz Howl page boys. When I was younger I sort of bought that he was just being a coward in refusing to go back, but honestly looking at all those kids with smiling empty eyes like painted marbles — you know what maybe it was good he got out of there when he did and in whatever way he could, huh. I don’t feel like there were wonderful things ahead here. Between that and the Witch of the Waste — who must have been much, much older than him when they seem to have sort of had a thing, since he seems to be like… mid-twenties-ish? at the time of the movie — there’s some really uncomfortable subtext going on if you want to read into it that way. I don’t think it’s the only way to read it by any means, but there’s something icky and clandestine sticking to Suliman’s whole deal that makes some form of grooming feel potentially relevant, especially taken along with the shame and fear that seems to cling to Howl around it and the recurring symbolism of him being stuck at a child state beneath it all — he slipped away from Suliman one day but never really grew up. (I’ll readily admit this is some fully Vibes based ramblings on my part, so YMMV on how convincingly you find this present in the text vs. how much is conjecture in my overthinking overheating noggin lmao)

- The fact that the first thing that allows Sophie to heal is to get to be angry — to finally get to say ‘this is all such absolute fucking bullshit *aggressively scrubs all the shit away about it*’. So much of her arc is about reclaiming the full spectrum of her emotions instead of having to make herself small, to prioritize her own inner experience and expressiveness above the need to be acceptable or pleasing to someone else's gaze. It’s not doing quite the same thing as the book in this regard (which if memory serves does more complex work around societal dynamics around gender and sexuality and aging vs. the more internal personal approach the film takes), but what it is doing is very interesting in its own right. The castle being a space (a home!!!) where all the inhabitants can eventually express themselves freely, including Howl dropping the uncannily imperturbable smiling facade to show the sad wet pathetic drama queen beneath (deeply affectionate) and Markl just getting to be a kid running around having fun. And Sophie makes that home for everyone possible by being herself unfiltered for the first time in her life. What the fuck I’m not crying don’t look at me — 

- The little one-room cottage in the fields being the forerunner to the castle… 

- Something so pleasing about the irony that Howl is said to eat hearts when really he seems to have basically had to tear his own heart out and set it on fire to keep it safe. And then after people have tried to get their hands on it to possess it (the Witch) or dictate how he uses it and who he gives it to (Suliman) for the whole movie, Sophie gives it back to him without a thought at the end; it’s more important to her for him to be whole than to own his heart. Hmnngh. (also so funny that the first thing he does upon waking up is plaintively whining about it fhdasj. Yeah having feelings again can take a person like that) 

- Howl’s bad dye job freakout is still very funny and silly, of course, never change you giant drama queen slime the place down, but there’s something about the fact that he’s apparently been dyeing his hair the colour Suliman seems to favor/uses to mark ‘her people’ all this time even when he hasn’t been able to face her, especially since the flashback shows black is his natural hair colour, and how badly it freaks him out to not meet that standard anymore… Huh. Hm.Hah.

(This time I actually wondered to myself if part of the reason he made the deal with Calcifer was to be able to get away from her and the plans she had for his life (and that he clearly would have hated, if their fundamental philosophical disagreement about warfare is any indication!). I think it says some very sad things that his happiest childhood memory is of a secret place where he got to be entirely alone because it was the only place he felt safe. Howl’s Moving Giant Coping Mechanism Metaphor. You see the castle is the Flight response made. Well not flesh. Timber, I guess. The Flight response made timber. In this essay I will etc.)   

- It hurts me that Howl brings Sophie’s old bedroom into the castle. He wanted so badly to make her happy and he seems to assume that because his memory of childhood solitude is a… if not happy then comforting thing to him, it would be for her too. But to her that’s just a reminder of the stagnancy and loneliness and… indignity? of her life before, and makes her feel like he’s treating her like a housekeeper, relegating her to that tiny room all over again, unwanted and ignored. Augh. At least she seems to understand what he meant to do for her when he shows her the meadow, though, and he doesn’t stop trying to communicate it to her even though his gesture didn’t land the way he’d hoped at first. This movie is so quietly kind about people trying to learn how to understand and love each other. Everyone is allowed to stay at the castle in all their imperfections, even the Witch. 

- Something something the Witch curses Sophie with not being able to tell anyone what’s happened to her… and in the end that doesn’t even really matter because the people around her either grow to understand without having to be told by actually paying attention to her (like Howl) or just accept her exactly as she is anyway, age yo-yoing and all, no questions asked (like Markl). And in the same way Sophie immediately recognizes Howl in his monster form and isn’t afraid of him even when he tells her it’s too late. Suliman warning her about ‘what he really is’ and Sophie immediately hugging him in his full monster form because he came home and that’s all that matters to her. Howl thinks her white hair is the most beautiful thing in the world and worth coming back to the world fully for. Sobbing. 

- The implication that part of the reason Calcifer wants out of the contract (other than just being stuck in the hearth of a place slowly falling into depressing disrepair and neglect around him) is that he’s genuinely terrified of what Howl is doing to himself. There’s something kind of sad and very funny about that. What if you went into a deal with a demon and the demon had to keep telling you ‘uh. Uh bro that’s kind of fucked up you know that right. Hey are you listening to me you’re molting monster feathers onto the carpet Sophie is gonna LOSE IT and don’t come crying to me when she does’. I wonder what would have happened to Howl’s heart if he turned completely — it seems that their contract has kept it safe and unchanged in every other way, if frozen in time, so presumably it would just… keep going the same way? (Calcifer telling Sophie that ‘it’s still the heart of a child’ got me so bad this time around. Bawling all over the place haha.) The idea of being stuck burning around a homeless heart forever is — well Calcifer I guess I get where you’re coming from here

- Of interest only to a very few people, I suppose, but the Norwegian dub of this movie fucking rules, I’m glad to find my childhood self was right about that. Calcifer is so cute in it it almost makes me dizzy sometimes, Aksel Hennie went ham on this one. Also an incredibly calming and charming performance for Howl — whenever I hear the English dub I just start laughing b/c like uh okay that’s Batman, takes me right out every time, that is not my lil guy fhsakjd. (I suspect his characterization is a bit different and softer in Norwegian too, just from the differences in translation I’ve seen?) 

- The first time Howl takes Sophie flying he holds her hand through it the entire time and guides her, the second time he takes her flying he lets her steer the flying machine for a while under his supervision before he goes off to make the distraction (there’s something so sweet about it as much as he’s being a little shit about it, honestly, he believes in her in such a quiet undramatic way even as she’s freaking out), and then after walking away from Howl’s childhood memory she walk-flies confidently on her own exactly like he showed her at the beginning. At the end the whole castle flies, with all of them safe and comfortable within it. Thoughts. Feels. Agony.

- There’s something so… weirdly achingly beautiful about the non-linearity of love in this movie. To properly meet each other as themselves here and now, Sophie and Howl have to flicker through polar opposite ends of life where they’re both stuck: old age and calcified (ahaha) childhood, resigned depression and overwhelmed fear. The promise Sophie makes at the end that is the beginning for Howl and probably kept him going in the meantime — love and a feeling of home that echoes even through the part of your life when it wasn’t there yet, love as hope. He finds her in the future, she finds him in the past, their hearts call to each other across time and space and they both work so hard to be able to actually meet in the now. The castle is kind of a wheezing overwrought monstrosity, the result of having to keep your heart outside of yourself and be constantly running from everything… but how can you begrudge it for it, when it works so doggedly to keep you and all you love safe while you look for that home? (To me Calcifer is basically a metaphor for dissociation, for what it’s worth, and he always has been)

TL;DR One of my fave movies of all times and touches me to the soul, I can't help but be distressingly earnest about it

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

Hi *squints at smudged writing on my hand*

I’m T, I was given a full name, and it does in fact begin with a T; but I thought this was easier than my real name and I’ve always wanted to strive for a sense of ✨Mystery✨ in my life (to clarify, I try. But I’m closer to a book which has had its spine broken than any cryptic you’ve read)

Also, I love being given nicknames by friends, so you’ll end up calling me by your assigned nickname for me anyway- so my names pointless (you have to stick around though for nickname privileges)

Age: 22

Pronouns: She/her

Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff (Fuck JKR)

Location: UK.

Sexuality: ? (This isn’t me being mysterious, I’m generally not sure at the moment)

Religion: Practicing Witch (please don’t come to convert me to anything else, my tarot cards say no)

I’d say I’m a fairly interesting person, although I’m very bad at expressing myself, and also my own opinion of myself isn’t worth shit 👌 I own over 200 books, all of them fiction spanning from different areas of of the young adult, new adult (yes, most of the new adult I’ve read is spicy 🌶, if your into that I have recommendations) , fantasy, dystopian- I could go on, but if you really wanted to know, I’d be happy to send you photos of my buckling bookshelves. I love Mythology, mainly into Greek at them moment, so if you have an interesting fact- I’d love to hear it.

I have a degree in bakery (weird huh?) and I’m currently training to be a nursery practitioner (do these qualifications match? Of course not) my music taste varies but some artists include:

Twenty one pilots (they’re my favourite, my first tattoo, and as of writing this, have just announced their new album),

Machine gun Kelly,

Yungblud,

Panic! At the disco,

Fall out boy,

Taylor swift,

Saywecanfly (if you know this guy, we’re instantly friends)

and many more I can’t remember right now.

I have to many hobbies, so ask me about most arts and crafts and I’ve probably tried it once before. I write, although ( I think) not well. We could maybe write short stories to each other? Maybe? Oh I love mushrooms 🍄 (over 600 photos on my phone... don’t judge me) and I’m in several fandoms, and I plan to be in many more (the more I read, the more fandoms I join) if you read YA fiction that was published between 2011 and 2013, you can probably guess some of my fandoms 😊

I’d prefer snailmail, although we can talk first online if you wish (if you want to talk online permanently, be warned I retreat into my own head a lot, so online replies may be slow) if we talk long enough, and we become good friends- I will defend you with my life. I love my few friends deeply therefore if you become one you’ll have the same treatment. This includes me checking on you whenever I can, reminding you you’re great, scolding your self doubt and random gifts when I feel like you need them/the thing reminded me of you. (Basically I’m the mum friends, figures)

The crook of it all is normal life is boring me (thanks COVID ) and I need ✨more✨ so I thought I’d try this penpal thing again. But I’d like to try a twist. (Not compulsory)

In with our normal letter, let’s add a letter written by a character. This character could be already written, or completely made up, hey you can write as your DnD character if you like (though if you play DnD I beg you to explain the game to me- I’ve always been interested in the game but it’s not big in the uk so never learnt) So then tucked inside the mundane of a normal penpal letter there can be a little bit of adventure. Writing like your someone else helps me feel better, maybe if can help you too?

Everyone and anyone is welcome to come and talk to me, I accept all (unless your a backwards transphobic, homophobic, racist, (LGBTQA+-phobic in general) dick. If your any of them I have no time for you) I also ask no creeps, I’ve already found my soulmate, so your creepy messages aren’t welcome.

You can find me at - @tessatales (just and FYI, no, Tessa isn’t my name, not even a nickname ether actually 🤷🏻‍♀️)

“I’m (hopefully) going on an adventure!” - bilbo baggins (plus a twist from myself)

paperclip chains

akaashi keiji (officeAU!)

a collection of scenarios following you and akaashi as you try and finesse the art of navigating life as working adults.

genre: a bit sad at times, but hopefully fluffier in the future.

a/n: my first piece of writing and this is pure self indulgent because work is hard and nothing makes sense sometimes. hope you all enjoy and find some comfort in it. 

word count: 3500~

pt. one 🦋 blank like a sheet of paper. 🦋

[friday. 3:00 p.m.]

someone had cracked open the window. the air inside the office had been much too oppressive, stale with the smell of the murky, insipid coffee you could get from the cafeteria. for free. staff privileges, they call it. late afternoon sun pours in through the large square windows. it ignites the office, dying it in the shades of an inferno. however, the warmth of it does not reach akaashi’s heart. the way the rays set everything aglow was in contrast to the chill crisp autumn air. akaashi could hear the leaves rustle, clinging to the branches waiting for that particular gust of wind, strong enough to blow them off. the leaves would then twirl and twirl until they’d softly land on the damp earth becoming one with it again. he wishes he were a leaf.

He tries to focus on nature’s gentle melody, but the hubbub of the office is overbearing. the incessant clicking of alphabets on the keyboards, the murmur of pages being turned, someone sneezes loudly and it is immediately followed by lazy ‘bless you’s’. his ears are attuned to the low electric groan of the printer, and he hopes someone would get up and unclog the jam of papers before the white noise drives him insane. he ends up doing it himself, almost losing a finger in the process as he tries to pull out a badly stuck paper from the printers’ rollers. today had been one of those days where nothing had gone right, a domino of disasters triggered the moment he’d opened his eyes. these days had been coming by way too often lately for his taste. he felt tired.

none of these turmoils showed on his exterior though, he wore a calm, unbothered mask. despite his depressing inner monologue, he diligently read through the manuscript highlighting bits he’d like to go over with the author at their next meeting.

it wasn’t like akaashi hated his job, infact, this was his dream job. he loved what he did but sometimes his love for his work was eclipsed by the politics the workplace was entrenched in. the naivety from when he had first joined almost a year ago had worn off quickly. it took him a mere week in the workforce to understand that a job demanded more than the list of skills and tasks specified in the job description. in any office, beneath the veneer of civility, there always remains an undercurrent of competition, jealousy, idle minds looking for entertainment at the expense of each other. there were people who did not love their job, the free loaders who somehow never did their share but managed to take home their bag of coins. they would slack and slack some more until the burden of their neglect would be shifted upon the shoulders of the new comers. too timid to resist. he pulls out his leather bound planner, a gift from his friend to celebrate him landing the role of an assistant editor all those months ago. it is almost filled from start to finish with his scribbles and the leather is soft with constant handling. his eyes scan past all the work he had wrapped up for the day, until one of his seniors had dumped an endless stack of files containing short stories that had been sent in for the monthly writing contests. they’re not short anymore when you have a hundred of them to read at once. apparently, the senior had a date he’d forgotten about and had to leave early. akaashi couldn’t report this to the boss, he knew how offices worked. its venomous hierarchies slithered like snakes ready to diss whoever defied them. rookies must act like rookies. akaashi quickly jots down in his planner a list of things he must get done over the weekend and the bulleted list slowly fills up two entire pages.

when he wasn’t picking up after someone’s mess akaashi did enjoy what he did. he enjoyed being on top of his work, found an euphoric satisfaction in duties well done. while his colleagues took it easy during the day and whined as they worked overtime in the evenings to meet deadlines, akaashi was most probably done for the day by then and already at home; fresh out of the shower and lighting his favourite candles that made his bedroom smell like cinnamon. he’d curl up under his soft comforter letting the tension of a busy day dissipate from his body. he kept his favorite books on the nightstand and would read them as he waited for sleep to come.  

“akaashi-chan,” he hears the soothing voice of his supervisor, an old well natured man in his sixties who had worked here for almost thirty years. he walks upto akaashi’s desk, his eyes crinkling with a gentle smile as he takes in the mess that was his desk.  “its difficult being a rookie, huh?” hatori-san says. “i would’ve just let you gone home, but the design and printing departments are an anxious bunch. they’re breathing down our necks for the final draft of the magazine two weeks before the release date.”

“please don’t apologise, hatori-san. It’s always like this towards the end of the month.” you aren’t the one who should be apologising.

“hmm...” the elderly muses, “maybe you should dilly dally like your colleagues, afterall, who is to blame you? the youth are meant to be reckless. ”

“but hatori-san if i did that not even a quarter of our magazine will be ready by the end of this month!” akaashi’s voice is filled with amusement, and mild terror.

hatori-san chuckles. “yes, yes i’m aware. i’ll rely on you then akaashi-chan. i do have a bit of good news for you though.” a bonus-

“we’re getting another assistant editor on monday, hopefully your workload can be halved from then on and a be little more manageable. i’m worried you’re starting to look older than me akaashi-chan.” he jokes. “i’ll leave her in your care.”

❀ ✿  ✿ ❀

[friday. 8:20 p.m.]

he stays in the office until late that night, finishing as much of his work he can before the words on the screen begin to blur and he can feel his brain churn in his head. he packs the documents he needed to read over the weekend, putting them neatly in his black briefcase. the temperatures have dropped quite low and with his tan coat on and a scarf wrapped around his neck, he steps out into the world. outside, tokyo is buzzing with life, the lights twinkle and a bubbly atmosphere engulfs even this usually grim and dull part of the city; where most companies found their home. salary men and women chatter excitedly as they pour into the office district from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass. groups of people stand on the sidewalk chatting amicably, smoke rises from cigarettes, plans to go hangout at karaokes, bars and restaurants float in the air.

it wasn’t that akaashi did not have friends, or ever had trouble making any. he was easy going, attentive and though not the loudest in the room, he was enigmatic. people were drawn to him. especially the weird and loud ones. not that he minded. not that he ever judged. which is what made people open up their hearts to him so easily. they knew he’d take them for who they were. but, like earlier today he couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease that clawed at him. he had his dream job but the hours he spent on his desk day after day, the endless exchange of apathetic emails, the unlimited cups of coffee, had all amalgamated into a kind of hollowness. he felt empty instead of fulfilled. he idly wonders if bokuto-san ever felt this way, or knowing him, did he charge straight ahead without any inhibitions? if you asked bokuto whether he could see himself playing volleyball for the next twenty or fifty years, bokuto would say ‘yes, ofcourse!!!’ in a heartbeat. and akaashi knew bokuto would mean it.

he wonders how hatori-san had spent his entire life in that office. could i do the same?

akaashi considers hanging out with some of his friends from university, maybe take hatori-san’s advice and just let go and forget everything for a while. he could be your typical 20 something, going to the bars with his 20 something friends where they’d shit talk their rude colleagues. He could console that one friend who wouldn’t stop crying over his ex-girlfriend who left him 3 years ago, every time he’s drunk. he could go home with that girl at the opposite end of the bar who wouldn’t stop looking his way, and who in his drunken haze, he thinks to be pretty. but eventually akaashi decides he is too tired to do any of that.

much later, when he settles into bed, he mindlessly picks up a book from his nightstand. he starts reading from where he had left off the night before but his eyes don’t really register a single word. for all he knew, he could’ve been staring at a blank sheet of paper. after a few more minutes of seeing nothing, he puts the book away and buries himself deep underneath the covers.

he feels the tears fall.

❀ ✿  ✿ ❀

[monday, 9:45 a.m.]

its odd. akaashi feels well rested. very very well rested.

his eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is the blue sky peeking from the gap between his curtains. he’s afraid to look at the time.

9:45 A.M. well, shit.

akaashi feels winded by the time he makes it to the floor where his office was.from the door he sees hatori-san standing next to akaashi’s chair, his back towards him. akaashi’s heart is in his throat, an apology that sounds fake dances on his tongue. he then hears hatori-san chuckle. a soft female voice says something he cannot catch. ah, the new assistant editor.

“good morning” he calls hoarsely, as he approaches them.

“Ah, hello akaashi-san,” his supervisor beams, “meet y/n. hopefully, your new partner in crime.”

“i was told i’m supposed to help slow down your aging process.” her voice is soft, and despite the shyness there is a mischievous lilt to her tone.  “i’ll do my best. please do guide me.”

hatori-san excuses himself. she’s practically buzzing with excitement, akaashi notices. before he can say anything, she pulls out a brand-new notepad from her bag, pen clicking open. she looks ready to take on the world.

he has to bite back a smile. she’s cute, cheeks flush and lips in a pout as she  jots down something on it. he genuinely wonders what it is she writes, considering he hasn’t even spoken yet. her hair is neatly tied away from her face but a few stray tendrils fall and delicately frame her face.

he wonders if this is how he had looked on his first day at work. face pink and eyes bright. probably not as cute though, oh no, definitely not cute. he internally cringes at the memory of his awkwardness.

but you miss it. that excitement.

“it’s fine.” he says, “please just sit down and relax, i’ll guide you as we go through our daily routine.” he gives her a small smile.

they spend the morning, going through the basics of the trade, she's a fast learner, he notes. and later during the lunch hour he divulges to her the little ‘how to survive in this office 101s’. he tells her how how she mustn’t drink the free coffee they hand out at the cafeteria (even though he’s come to accept it himself, for he welcomes caffeine in any state and form). he suspects they reuse the coffee grounds more times than considered acceptable. how if you ever jammed the printer, try and leave before anyone realises it was you if you don’t want to be the recipient of death glares from colleagues all day long. He tells her which restrooms are the best and which elevators reach their destinations the fastest. the grimmer and more ruthless bits of working here can wait, he thinks.

passion was something he lost some time ago and hasn’t been able to find ever since.

“make sure to take it easy.” he mumbles to her as they are putting away their trays, “if work gets too much, you can always place the manuscripts and drafts  on my desk when i’m not looking.”

she looks at him incredulously. laughter bubbles from her lips as she tells him with mock indignance that she’s better than that. she asks the cafeteria lady for two cups of the infamous coffee, offering him one.

“lets toast!” y/n proposes .

“to what?”

“to all the times we’ll be the the last two brain cells holding up this company. together.” she jokes, touching her paper cup to his. 

he likes the sound of ‘together’.

❀ ✿ ✿ ❀

Best Dad Perry Porter

           Anyhow, I think Perry Porter is up there as potentially being one of, if not THE best parent in this show? At least, potentially tied with Eda?

           I say this, because the state of a kid is usually a reflection of their parent’s skills in raising them. And Gus… Gus is honestly one of, if not the most, well-adjusted characters in the show! In Episode 6, he says he knows what he’s good at- Gus understands himself well and has no reservations about who he is, no insecurity. He has the charisma and self-confidence to be a leader and even an MC at Grom, skills he no doubt picked up from Perry. And Gus… This kid CLEARLY loves and looks up to his dad and thinks he’s the coolest person ever, with how much he emulates Perry, and how seriously Gus treats his interview in Understanding Willow! He really wants to live up to his dad’s legacy, but it’s not out of some sense of expectation from his father, either… It’s all Gus’ genuine choice, I doubt Perry is putting him up to it!

           Because again… Gus is clearly happy with himself. He outright alludes to being proud of his Porter lineage, as Eda jokes about him being a dweebus- And Gus proudly asserts that he comes from a long line of dweebuses! He knows who he is, Gus has no shame and openly revels in it. And that… that says a LOT about Perry, probably- As a parent who likely engages with his kid often and lets him know about their family lineage. As someone supportive of Gus’ interests, because Gus has no reservations about his intrigue in human culture… And as someone who Gus actually admires and wants to live up to, not because anybody is expecting him, but because Perry is his own role model! It all points towards Perry being someone who reassures Gus on who he is, that he doesn’t have to be what he’s not for others, and that he can take pride in it…

           And, sure. We can all look at Something Ventured, Someone Framed. Gus has insecurities about being overlooked because he’s younger than the rest, and moved up a few grades. But the thing is… well, Gus is a person. Everyone is going to have insecurities, no matter how good their life is. He’s not perfect, he’s flawed just like anyone else, and I doubt it points towards any bad parenting of Perry’s anyway. While there is SOME social apprehension that Gus has over moving up multiple grades, it’s still a decision he’s continued to stick with. If the show’s handling of Willow’s discomfort in Abominations is any consideration, then if Gus genuinely had issues with being in a higher grade, we probably would’ve had this addressed and changed by now.

           But despite the drawbacks here or there, I think it’s a decision that Gus willingly made and accepted, and I don’t think he regrets advancing a few grades! It’s what he wanted, it’s just that in life, not everything is perfect, not even the best option… And even if it was, again. Gus is still allowed to feel imperfect about things. And as a parent, there’s only so much that Perry can do for his kid… And as it stands, I think he’s done a LOT. Because when Gus hijacks Perry’s broadcast in the season finale, bar some embarrassment… Perry doesn’t seem too upset? He’s a very accommodating and open-minded father, which likely relates to his profession. Not only that, but he allows Willow and his son to take over the broadcast, and his expression and body language clearly allude to Perry legit listening to what these kids have to say, and taking that into account.

           Like Eda, Perry is someone who knows that he doesn’t know everything, neither as an adult nor as a parent; And while he knows a lot more than his son and is the one meant to guide and educate him… Perry still recognizes the value and worth of what his son and another kid has to say. He knows that good information and points can come from anywhere, and he’s willing to listen and take into consideration, and seems somewhat convinced no less! I can see him encouraging and feeding into the rebellion against Belos…

          Not to mention, as a reporter Perry no doubt has taught Gus a lot about how to be critical of authority and information, to always question what’s given to you, and to think carefully about things and the way a situation presents itself! While it’s possible he was never given the chance to say so, it’s worth noting that Gus never expresses any of Belos’ propaganda as a fact he believes in- When even Willow briefly alludes to Belos’ way of magic being the ‘correct’ way, even after suffering from his system for a while. As a reporter, Perry has probably done at least some research and investigation, or is at least more aware of what the Emperor’s Coven does an outsider, than anyone else.

           So, we have Perry probably educating Gus on anything sus on Belos’ behalf… In addition to encouraging his kid’s interests, probably having caused them as well; I can see Perry’s reports on abnormal things here or there (like a giraffe sighting as evidenced by one background detail) leading to a discussion of humans, which sparked Gus’ curiosity. I can see Perry doing his own research for Gus’ sake… Maybe enjoying hobbies and mutual interests with his son as both a father and best friend! Because Perry is clearly someone that Gus feels safe around, that he can be open and completely honest. Gus was someone who lit up Willow’s life and made her feel so much better, prior to Luz’s arrival…

          And I think we can guess where Gus got these welcoming qualities from, that willingness to engage with others socially and get them to open up more about themselves. Reporters tend to be great listeners or are at least meant to be… And I can see Gus’ receptiveness contributing to his desire to create a space where others can feel heard instead of ignored, as he once did with the H.A.S.! Gus is a supportive kid, someone who gives a voice to others… We see this literally in Episode 6, when his spell amplifies the volume of Luz’s voice. And his illusions can buff up Willow’s plants as well. As the son of a reporter, he gives people a platform to speak on, as he encourages with King during Grom… Gus clearly embodies the best qualities of his father’s profession, so I think it’s safe to say that Perry has been an overwhelmingly positive influence in his life!

           Not to say that Perry CAN’T have his faults… But so does every parent, and I think Perry is doing an amazing job as-is. I suppose in many ways, he’s like Eda as someone who likely interferes with the Emperor’s Coven in their own ways, while allowing a kid to feel heard and listened to, while reminding them of their value as a person and helping them acknowledge and embrace who they are! Granted, Perry doesn’t exactly have much competition either… There’s the Blight Parents, who are objectively the worst. Then there’s Camila and the Park Parents… And while those latter options are no doubt amazing, kind, and considerate people –if their kids are any indication- admittedly their parenting has been marred by a bad decision here, or there… Camila wanted Luz to suppress herself, and Willow’s dads encouraged her to join Abominations instead of her Plant passions, because it had better opportunities.

           Which, that can be its own discussion entirely, on how Camila and Willow’s Dads truly want the best and would love to let their kids be who they are and self-actualize, but because of their position in society, they need to prioritize their kid’s success in life… Because it’s obvious that Luz and Willow regard their parents with a lot of love, and with good reason! I think that Camila and Willow’s dads are just stuck in a scenario where they used to be super-supportive of their child and still are… But pressure by the system mandates that they want their kid to be less lonely, and there’s not much they know or can do in this circumstance. That gets into the idea of how being an ideal parent is difficult, when in order to survive in a conforming system you have to play by its rules… And how a lot of people just don’t have the luxury nor privilege to be the best parents they can be.

           So, I guess that could open up for debate, the idea that Camila and Willow’s dads could be just as good as Perry, if in the same situation as him… And, I’m not exactly sure of Perry’s social standing, and I don’t know how well-off being a reporter is. But with the evidence as it currently is, with what we’re working with? I think Perry and Eda are tied and deadlocked as the best parents in this show… Just as Luz and Gus are among the most well-adjusted of the cast, all things considered! They’re both kids who uplift others… Fitting, given Luz’s associations with flight and Owls, amidst the way the show’s own opening initially frames her!

          And these two kids serve as a contrast to the Emperor’s Coven, with its gilded, angelic imagery and wings meant to uplift others above the rest to a heavenly degree… But it’s a false uplifting based on forced hierarchy and putting others down, while Gus and Luz allow others to self-actualize, fly free, and be who they truly are! You can tell their parents really tried and left their impact, huh? Obviously Luz and Gus are their own people with their own agency in who they become- But having a healthy environment and support network is ALWAYS helpful in allowing others to utilize that agency. And I think Eda and Perry did good, if not great, in giving their kids the platform and environment, the safety net needed, to work and make themselves into the best witches they can be!

your wonder under summer skies (5/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words ❤️

And to everyone else, happy Friday! You’ve made it through another week!

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 

-/-

“Where are you going?”

Emma twists her head to the side and tugs her comforter up to her chest. “To get some water.”

“I wore you out then, did I?”

Emma groans and tries to get out of bed before Killian’s hands wrap around her waist and tug her back. His lips press against the back of her neck, scruff scratching against skin, and she melts into the feeling of it.

Almost.

“Wait, wait,” she interrupts, pulling away from him and twisting in the bed until she’s back on her side and facing him. He’s got red pillow creases all across his face, and he desperately needs to fix his hair. It’s a mess. They probably both are. “We need to talk.”

His eyes flutter closed before his lips spread into a smile. “I’ve found when a woman says that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

Emma swallows and pulls the comforter up a little higher. She doesn’t know how well this is going to go, but it’s been on her mind pretty much every other minute for the past week. Well, besides when she wants to pull her hair out over the insane specificities that her boss is giving her for every event they’ve got on the books. A regular Tuesday night dinner with twenty people does not need to be the most well thought out dinner in the history of dinners, but no one seems to understand that.

A part of her almost misses waitressing, but then she remembers the pay and how shitty people are to waitstaff.

“We need to make rules,” Emma blurts out. She’s got to bite the bullet or else she’ll never do it.

Both of Killian’s brows raise at that. “Rules?”

“Yeah, about this.” She motions between the two of them. “I don’t – hell, Killian, we’ve kind of fallen into…”

“Bed?” he laughs, his lips ticking up into a broad smile.

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“I know, but I – look, we’re friends, right?”

“Aye.” He nods and sits up as the sheets fall down to his waist and she’s only slightly distracted by the dip in his collarbone and the way the ink on his shoulder stretches across his skin. “To be quite frank, you’ve somehow wormed your way into being my closest mate.”

“Your closest mate who you’ve now been sleeping with for, like, a week, and not to be too emotionally aware since that is not my expertise, but I feel like that’s going to blow up in our faces at some point since we’re not really talking about it.”

Whew. She got that out. That was the hard part, right?

“Ah, so you want to make rules?”

“Exactly.”

Killian clicks his tongue and points between them. “If we make rules, Swan, it means we’re continuing this. Do you want to continue this?”

God, yes.

“I mean, I feel like it could be beneficial to both of us.”

“How so?”

He knows exactly what she’s trying to say, but the asshole is going to make her say it. Maybe she didn’t get the hard part over. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” Emma starts, “and I assume you’re not either.”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“So why don’t we continue this? No strings attached. I don’t have to be some poor, heartbroken woman as my ex walks around with the woman he cheated on me with without a care in the world, and you don’t have to find one of your women for the summer. I can be that for you.”

Killian hums and scratches behind his ear before tilting his head to the side. The light from outside is hitting his eyes so that the blue is even brighter than usual, and a shiver runs down her spine as he stares at her.

This is weird but good.

“Rule one would have to be that we don’t let sleeping together get in the way of our friendship,” Killian starts, holding a finger up. “I can’t stay sane without having you to vent to about customers and Liam and also Will purposely not restocking my rum at the bar.”

Emma huffs. “I can’t stay sane without middle of the night slushie runs and runs with Skipper.”

“So, we agree on that then? Our friendship comes first.”

“Absolutely.”

“And we’re both fully aware that the both of us are using each other for sex, correct?”

“Well, don’t put it like that.”

“Why?” he laughs. “That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, but if you put it that way, it makes it sound absolutely dirty.”

“Dirty, huh?” Killian shifts in the bed and moves over toward her. Emma falls back onto the mattress while Killian climbs over her until he’s caging her in and staring down at her with those blue, blue eyes. This shouldn’t feel so damn good, but it does. “I can show you dirty, darling.”

“I think you’re changing the subject.”

“We were talking about sex.” He leans down and nestles his chin into her neck until his teeth tug at her skin, quickly soothing the spot with his tongue. “I’m simply changing it from talk to the act.”

“We have to finish our conversation,” she protests, falsely, as her nails scratch down his back. He groans, and Emma can’t say she minds the sound.

“There will be plenty of time for your lovely little rules later. I can assure you I will listen to them and follow them and do every little thing you ask of me. That’s the benefit of sleeping with a friend who is accustomed to listening to you.”

Emma’s hips arch up into his, and she gulps down as heat licks along her skin and curls between her thighs. He’s more addicting than he has any right to be, and she could definitely get used to a no strings attached kind of situation like this.

Friends with benefits.

She never thought she’d be the type of girl to do that, but it was probably because the situation hadn’t presented itself yet. It obviously has now.

She didn’t have the right friends, apparently.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“I never claimed to be otherwise,” he whispers into her ear, his voice soft before becoming gritty, almost in a blink of an eye. “Now wrap your legs around me. I prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back than spending my time talking.”

“I feel like nothing has ever stopped you from talking before.” “Well, if my mouth is otherwise occupied, it does become a challenge. But, you know, I do love a challenge.”

-/-

Killian Jones: Rule #2. We don’t tell any of our friends.

Emma Swan: Agreed. They would lose their shit.

Killian Jones: Liam and David would join forces to keep us both locked in our apartments.

Emma Swan: David would at least give me food and water. Liam might leave you hanging.

Killian Jones: I’d somehow find a way to get Skipper to bring me food. Or you could find a way to send me something.

Emma Swan: It’d be the least I could do.

“What are you doing?”

Emma hits the button on the side of her phone and stuffs it in her back pocket. “I was checking our schedule for today.”

Mary Margaret tilts her head. “We’ve got the Silver Club’s luncheon at noon, a group information session at three, and then we have the Welcome Dinner tonight. How did you forget that? We’ve been planning this for months.”

“I didn’t forget,” Emma lies as she stands from the chair. “I was double-checking the times.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just want everything to go well, you know?”

“Emma.” Mary Margaret walks closer and leans against the wall next to Emma. “You just ended a long, serious relationship. It’s okay to not be okay. You’ve been frazzled, and I don’t mind picking up any of the slack that you need me to pick up.”

“I’m fine,” Emma lies. “I am not at all upset about Neal. I just want to, you know…”

“You want to what?”

Emma puts her hands in front of her chest and pushes forward. “I want to push past it, shove it away.” “Of course, of course.” Mary Margaret’s ballet flat scuffs against the hardwood. “I always thought you two were good together. There’s not a chance that – ”

“Fuck no,” Emma laughs even as she wishes she could be anywhere but here. “I mean, we had our good moments, but I’ve been through too much shit to stay with him. I think for the first time I – you know what, never mind, it’s not important. Let’s get back to the dinner. Do you think it’s going to go well?” Super smooth subject change there, Emma. Mary Margaret definitely didn’t notice it at all.

Mary Margaret sighs and wraps her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “It always goes well. You’re good at this. You’ve got to know that by now.”

“I pretty much live in constant fear that Regina is going to fire me because someone is unhappy with a color scheme or because a kid is going to tell their parent we didn’t have the right kind of lemonade and then the parent decides to take rare interest in their kid for once just to make my life miserable.”

“Yeah, I live in constant fear of that, too. Those parents are scary.”

“How many are coming to the information session?”

“Ten new couples, three returning who want an update, and then we’ve got forty kids already signed up to stay in the kids’ club all summer.”

Emma lets out a low whistle. “Ashley and Aurora are going to lose their minds if we don’t get the part-time hires on board.”

“Or if we don’t help them out more than on the excursions.”

She hums and opens up the door out of her office. “I’m too busy dealing with whiny, privileged adults complaining about how the pool isn’t the right temperature.”

“You’re right. It’s such a hard life.”

Emma snickers. “Maybe we’re not meant for this job.”

“Probably not, but you prefer this to waitressing, right?”

“Oh hell yes. I will not go back to that and sleeping on your couch. You were the best for taking me in since I was pretty much a walking human disaster, but there will be no more sleeping on your couch. I like having my own bed and being able to eat food other than kitchen leftovers.”

“I do miss you on my couch, though. Lots of good talks. And my hair was long then, and you were the best at braiding it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma laughs. She takes a deep breath, letting a little bit of the heaviness on her chest evaporate. Mary Margaret pushes her a hell of a lot, but sometimes she does know when to step back. “I know you do. Now come on, let’s go make sure that there are no pink linens or Mrs. Rose will absolutely lose her shit.” “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Oh, I would, but like I said, I also like my job.”

“Then no pink linens it is.”

-/-

“How did I know I’d find you here?”

Emma’s heartbeat picks up at the familiar voice, and she looks up from her spot to see Killian walking down the beach toward her.

“Because Mary Margaret probably told you.”

“Damn, I’ve been found out.” He takes a few more steps until he’s sliding down onto the lounge chair next to her and handing her a slushie. “Because they melted the other night.”

Her cheeks heat at the thought, and she’s got to stop doing that. They are adults sleeping together, and there’s no need for her to feel weird about that. It’s a little weird talking about it somewhere other than a bedroom or over text, though. Yeah, that’s why his reference made her cheeks flush. That’s the only reason.

“Thank you.” She takes quick sip. “Is there tequila in this?”

“I thought you could use it after your Welcome Dinner. I know that’s hell every year.”

“Oh my God, yes,” Emma groans. “It was the worst. I swear it’s more people every year, and they all show up thinking this is going to be like that episode of Mrs. Maisel where they show up at the summer camp and never have to lift a finger. I mean, to the point where I would be putting their food in their mouths, which I am not going to do.”

“Isn’t that kind of what this is?”

Emma glares at him, but Killian not-so-slyly takes a sip of his drink and avoids her stare.

That was smart of him because she’s just exhausted enough to want to slap him for being a smart ass.

“No. We’re not a resort. They just come to the club for meals and parties and leave their kids with us all day. They ask us where they can rent or keep their boats, and I obviously only recommend you, and then they have to go home to their own homes or rentals at the end of the day where I have nothing to do with them or what they ear.”

“Oh, yeah, totally different than it being a resort.”

“Shut up,” Emma chuckles as she drinks her slushie. She’s going to have to run in the morning to work off all of the food she’s been eating today. She had so many of the cookies before they went out to the tables. “It is different. I’m just at their beck and call for half of the day. I would lose my mind if I had to do more.”

“A job’s a job.”

“And when you’re not qualified to do much else…”

Killian kicks his leg out in the sand toward her. “If things don’t work out for you, you can come work for me.”

Emma sputters out a laugh. “Liam would never in a million years let me work with you guys.”

“Oh, come on. He definitely would…at some point…maybe two million years.”

She rolls her eyes and twists on the lounge chair until she’s facing Killian again. A breeze from the ocean wafts toward her, and chills pop up on her arms. Killian silently shrugs off his sweatshirt before handing it over to her. He’s got on a Henley underneath it, and he obviously is more prepared for the late-night chill than she is.

“Liam isn’t my biggest fan. It’s okay. I’ll just have to go back to waitressing when I lose my mind on a member and throw a drink in their face.”

“Hey, now, he does like you a little bit. Let’s not immediately jump to throwing drinks in someone’s face.”

“You don’t have to placate me, KJ. Your brother is a stubborn ass to me. It runs in the family, but one of you at least makes up for it by providing drinks and mediocre conversation.”

Killian scoffs before leaning back up against the chair and running his hands through his hair. The scars on his hand look almost silver in the moonlight. She’s never noticed that before.

“Mediocre conversation? Is that what this is? I happened to think I was a brilliant conversationalist.”

“Occasionally. Did you know they want me to start wearing a uniform?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Regina is losing her shit. She wants me to wear khaki shorts and a different pastel colored polo for different days of the week, but that’s only for the afternoons. At night, she still wants me to get dressed up so I can ‘look like a member and not an employee.’”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Damn,” Killian whistles. “I am going to love giving you shit about that.”

“Ha, I’m not going to wear the polos. I already have to wear the damn khaki shorts when we do events on the beach, but I am not wearing the polos. I’ll get fired first.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll have a job with me in a million years.”

“Two, I thought.”

“Possibly three.”

Emma laughs and settles back down onto the chair as she keeps drinking. Killian got a little too much cherry in this. Or maybe that’s just the tequila. It’s good, though, and she needed it tonight.

God, the people at the club are all so obnoxious, and she’s desperately going to miss fall and winter when she didn’t have people hounding her with questions every day all day. She deserves hazard pay for every person that makes a snide remark about the linens or someone who they think doesn’t fit the type of person they want at the club.

They don’t know she’s the exact type of person they wouldn’t want to associate with.

Foster kid, no money, little education, run ins with the law…the list goes on and on.

But she’s not that person anymore. She’s not. She’s at least got her life together in that she has money and isn’t having to steal Pop-Tarts from convenience stores.

Now she just drinks slushies from them that have tequila mixed in.

At least these were paid for.

She hopes. No, she knows. Killian definitely paid for them.

“Oh,” Emma says, “I thought of another rule. It’s kind of a big one.”

“Is it now?”

“If you want to start sleeping with other people, you can. Just say the word if you meet someone like, you know, you usually do, and we can stop. There’s no need to do it if you’re sleeping with someone else.”

Killian’s brows furrow, and he scratches his chin. “I thought we had already decided I didn’t need to find someone? I don’t purposefully look for someone, by the way. It just happens.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so beautiful too that people just line up to sleep with me.”

“I mean, you are. You’d have to be blind not to know that.”

Emma swallows and tugs down the sleeves on the sweatshirt before crossing her arms over her chest, hugging her stomach tightly. She is not going to give herself enough time to process what he just said. “Anyway, I mean that if you meet someone and want to give it a shot, go for it. Give me the word, and we can start pretending I’ve never seen your dick before.”

“Well, I mean, you already did that one time at – ”

“That was an accident,” she giggles, “and totally your fault for leaving the door unlocked while you were changing.”

“There wasn’t a lock on the door.”

“Whatever.”

“Rule four,” Killian sighs, holding his fingers up, “is that I do not have to cook you breakfast if you spend the night.”

“No. That’s a shitty rule, KJ, and you know it! You cook me breakfast now. You can’t go back on it.”

“Alright, alright, if you insist,” he laughs as his hand reaches over toward her and curls her hair around his fingers. They’re warm and rough, and she has to admit that it’s comfortable to have him hold her hand like that. “You know, Liam is staying over at Elsa’s tonight?”

“Is he?” she asks. Emma swallows and shifts a little closer to Killian, the ocean breeze suddenly much warmer.

“He is, and he won’t be back until we open at ten.”

“So, enough time for breakfast then?”

Killian’s eyes crinkle with his laugh. “Is that going to be the only reason you come over?”

“Nah,” Emma sighs as she stands from her chair, “I also really like your dog.”

-/-

-/-

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Seven. Part 2

I am still angry; I am so angry at everything. Pushing the motel door open, it banged on the wall harshly, I am angry at that bitch and she is still here following me, the fucking nerve “TJ, take Seiko and take her into our room” Barry said behind me, turning around facing her. Seiko is still here in front of me “let’s speak like adults, did you cheat on me with Rihanna?” she is being deadass “do you know how crazy you sound right now? Me? Rihanna are you crazy. I ain’t cheat, you are losing your mind. Either way we are over” I pointed between us, I want her gone “Seiko, let me speak to him yeah? Then we can take it from there” Barry stood in front of me “speak to your damn friend, he has lost his mind. I wish he never took me to see that bitch!” Seiko is fucking crazy, this toxic bitch is actually bringing out a shit side to me “just take her yeah, I will come to the room when he has calmed down, when everyone has calmed down” I feel so stressed, I feel her voice is ingrained in my mind and it’s not because I dislike her but because I have been trying to hide away from her mostly, I feel I am at this crossroad where I keep making stupid jokes to make it seem like everything is ok when it’s not, it’s really not. I see pictures and I am like I could have that but she’s just up there, top tier “so shall we finish what we started, you came back and said nothing really happened, all was good and shit. What the fuck? I am trying to comprehend this; see in High School I thought you both dating like I saw it. We all would be hanging out but you two would be stuck together, like twins. Then you would play her off because we would tease you but wow, she actually admitted to loving you or love you now?” turning to Barry “yeah” I breathed out.

Sitting on the bed across from Barry “she loves me, she said she loves me, and she said it twice. I think twice but I didn’t say it to her, I mean I just went there to see what is up. I didn’t expect to go there to see her, to sit in that SUV and feel what I did with her. My intention was not sex, I promise it wasn’t because we never had sex that time, even thought you assume. Robyn at the time, I tried it and she wasn’t ready, she didn’t want it. I was ok with that, but she left, I always thought it was me. But y’all ran with the fact I did when I didn’t so yeah, she said that she was scared at that time, she was a virgin she lied to look cool I guess, but it’s like. When I was looking around the apartment, I stood in the bedroom overlooking central park. I felt her there, I felt her every time near me. She did initiated sex, and I think she knew that I wouldn’t after I told her I thought it was my fault but without even thinking, without even trying Barry, I made love to her. It happened, it just happened, and I couldn’t control it at all, I just felt the connection go deeper then me knowing my school friend. Like I was holding her hands having sex with her, looking into her eyes. Bro, it’s bad. And then she got me angry on the last night, and I was like fuck it. And I fucked her without even caring and I hated that. Because I think I hurt her in a way, not sure but I laughed it off. I don’t know bro. I am in this mess” I laughed; Barry stared in shock “I need a moment” he said.

Barry really meant it when he said he needed a moment, this nigga is thinking hard “so you made love to her without you even realising?” nodding my head “so what is the deal, why are you still here then?” I laughed “it’s not easy Barry, like people think I should jump and go to her because she is Rihanna and she’s got money. Yes she does, but I am a man bro. I haven’t seen it first hand, but I looked at every picture on her Instagram and she lives that life niggas want, man. She is taking pictures with the biggest rapper out there, private jets, driven everywhere, five star apartments. You know? And there is me, borrowing off you to get there and I still owe you eight hundred dollars, I need to be in line with her to be at her level. She is so unreachable to me; my fear is that. My fear is that I can’t reach her, and I want to reach her, but she’s above me no matter what words she tells me, no matter how she says I am not that, she is. She is there but I can’t get to her, I am just stuck” it takes a lot to admit to it, and I have verbally now “you seemed pretty sad since you have come back, TJ even said it must have gone bad, but it has gone bad I guess, you have formed this feeling with her. You can’t explain it, but we know, we both know. But I see it, I get it. Like Rihanna is out of our reach but I don’t think she is out of reach for you bro, I think she loves you like you said so I think maybe you should take it slow. If you want to make some easy money I would say drug deal but then you just ruining your chances. Ok let’s take it out of the equation, let’s say you go to her as you. What would she treat you like?” I paused thinking, sighing out “good, I know Robyn would treat me good. She just wanted me to give, and I couldn’t. I uhm, I just closed off and got angry at myself. I paid for this fancy meal she took me on, we argued again then” Barry chuckled “nigga, get her pregnant. Be a stay at home dad, that is the plan” I laughed shaking my head “but I know you, you feel bad. I can’t believe you roughed her up in bed? Was you that bad?” nodding my head “I think I was; I was angry. The hug was cold, I tried to catch her attention by holding her hand, but things were sore between us, so yeah. I have a lot of shit to think on” rubbing the top of my head “she loves you, and if we being real you do too” putting my head down.

Staring at Mel laughing to myself “eat your damn breakfast bitch!” I spat, Mel put her hand up and got up from the chair “she is suffering bad” Leandra said, watching her run off. She deserves it, I had to drag her ass back to the home, not only that she started drinking when we got back again, I don’t know why she was trying to go all out, maybe something is going on with her “so girls, did you all have a good night? Are you all staying with me here? I have the River Island meeting, bitch is about to design some clothes” I clapped my hands together, I am so excited “of course, we can just discover London while you do that. But I was speaking to Monica, she said that she is so proud of you. Something you always wanted to do, to design clothes” I am actually nervous and excited about this venture “Jay Brown is coming tomorrow so that will be fine, that nigga be making me work! Like nigga please. I need to breathe but yeah, I got that venture and then album, and then tour. It rolls on like that. Make that money” my phone started to vibrate on the table, frowning looking over “uh” why is fuckyopictures trying to facetime me through Instagram, that is odd but will ignore it “who is that huh?” Leandra peaked over to see “nobody” waving her off, the call stopped. I am not giving him any facetime privilege; he lost that one a while ago. Going onto Instagram, tapping on my inbox and ignoring the amount of random shit that is being said, tapping on fuckyopicture, he doesn’t even message me on this anyways.

Badgalriri:

???

Pressing send and placing my phone on the table “very secretive I must add, I really don’t understand why are you being this way” rolling my eyes “its that skinny man she likes, erm. Christ? Chris? Whatever. He is a tall skinny man with a tiny little nose” Jen is such a bitch “shut up, please ignore her” Jen just cackled “oh is it that Christopher, oh ok. You both getting on?” she winked, looking at my phone, he has messaged back.

Fuckyopictures:

Did you enjoy when we met last time? Was the sex good?

Badgalriri:

You got a fucking nerve

Fuckyopictures:

So did you?

Badgalriri:

Why aren’t you just normal!? Seriously, you text me dumb shit like that. This is why I don’t bother, and don’t bother facetiming me either.

I am literally over him, like he’s just full of shit and at that moment my phone started to ring, he has a nerve to call me also “what?” I answered “because I didn’t want to answer your facetime now you calling me? What? You’re going to ask me something stupid now” I snapped, I snapped because I am sick of it, he can’t have a normal conversation with me “I didn’t facetime” he said, I sniggered “you did, you tried to facetime me on Instagram, just because I followed you don’t mean you can use that privilege to contact me on there” the phone line went silent “that isn’t me, the bitch is on my Instagram. You didn’t say anything to her, Barry you better get her before I do” what bitch is he on about, then I realised “oh, your girlfriend huh. Ok, well this is fun. Well have fun with dealing with that. I am eating breakfast, bye” disconnecting the call “girlfriend? Oh my god, what drama have you got yourself into” placing my phone on the table “short story, Chris has a girl that he refuses to get rid of, she doesn’t trust him, has his passwords. We had sex and I guess she knows and is messaging me on there, I am now waiting for a shade room post on me whoring myself” Leandra cackled “fuck me, girl you having sex with regular hood niggas now? I mean ok you knew him before, what happened? You know this is going to blow” I shrugged “I stopped caring, I did care but I stopped. I didn’t text her anything that confirms we did anything so there is that” she can go and cry into a pillow or some shit, I don’t care.

New Year’s Day and I have nothing to do but just rest, me and the girls are re-watching Bridesmaids, but my mind is not really in it, looking down at my phone and it’s like he knew I was going to text him because he has text me first.

Twin:

Sorry about her messaging you, she doesn’t have my passwords anymore. We split….

Robyn:

That is nice to hear, she sounds like a psycho

Twin:

She is…. So when can I see you again?

Robyn:

Idk………. I am here for two weeks now and then Miami. I am unsure when I will be near the vicinity, I have my album to work on and this clothing deal I did. Couple of shows around there too. I will let you know when I need a service

Twin:

Lmao! Uhhh well when you can fit me in your busy schedule I don’t want to service you but I would like to see you but I guess you too busy for me

Robyn:

Busy yes but you can call, hope you had a good New Year anyways. Least you started it being single! You didn’t even like the girl anyways but I full on expect some drama to appear with that.

Twin:

Just remember me when you can make time….. like I did you

I am not even sure what he wants me to do, fly over to him when he has half assed done things. Now possibly got his psychotic ex speaking to the blogs with the notion that Chris and I had sex, it’s not a lie I am busy, but I am not going to put myself out there like I did before. I will probably be able to pop over to see him when I go back to the US but I will mention that closer to the time I guess, let him sweat it out but it will be for sex I can imagine.

Consider this defunct

Huh. It’s only been a month since I posted anything here. Feels longer.

*

I’m not going to delete this blog, but to the humans among the 1,700+ followers I have I will say thank you, but... don’t expect this place to come alive again anytime soon.

I find it pointless, to be blunt. For one, I don’t pay close attention to anything on Tumblr. I have an RSS reader I check maybe once a week, so I’ll see posts from A Good Cartoon or Grading Gorrell, but this site hasn’t been on my radar in years.

More to the point, it gets tiresome reiterating the same general points again and again. Especially as things have gotten worse while the media at large tries to act as if this is all normal.

The acquittal of Trump earlier this week should, to any reasonable person, cast aside once and for all the idea of the moderate Republican who will stand up to the threat of fascism. Mitt Romney’s one vote aside, the party has embraced not simply its status as a cult of personality around Trump, but around all the worst impulses Trump represents, such as a disregard for the rule of the law and an embrace of authoritarianism (I don’t see any Republicans racing to condemn Trump firing in retribution the people who had acted against him). And they have done this while enabled by a media that is dedicated to normalizing everything that happens in order to maintain a ‘both-sides’ narrative that the two major parties are of equal partisanship and demeanor.

As that relates to this blog and its mission statement, the world of editorial cartooning over the past four years has seen an almost impressive stagnation. I mean that, it must have taken legitimate effort to remain as milquetoast and nonpartisan as you were during the Bill Clinton administration in an era where one of the more significant long-term stories has been white supremacist organizations being emboldened by the president’s own rhetoric. To look at an administration putting kids in cages and instead bemoan the ‘divisiveness’ of our country requires a god-level amount of blinding privilege.

This is all referring to the middle-of-the-road, neither truly liberal or conservative cartoonists, to be clear. Conservatives cartoonists like Lisa Benson and Michael Ramirez and Steve Kelley and Gary Varvel, they’ve gone all in on Trump. He’s their guy, and everything he says or does they will defend.

A couple, like Scott Stantis and Ken Catalino, have actually been critical of Trump. For what that’s worth. Personally I see them as Romney-esque; they’re still right-wing, but Trump goes too far for them. At least they have limits, though.

On the left, I have to give respect to Clay Jones and Rob Rogers for actually stepping up in these times. I can’t rightly say I remember too much about their work pre-Trump (cue jokes about how that era feels centuries ago), but Jones has done brilliant work and Rogers lost his job rather than soften or abandon his anti-Trump stance. And it’s not just ‘make fun of the guy in power’ opposition; they’ve highlighted the worst facets of Trump and his followers, especially the racism.

But there’s only so many times I can take a cartoon that tries to draw the false equivalency, or worse tries to go harder on the Left than the Right because the media is afraid of conservatives, and either complain or try to put a wry spin on it. I’ve developed a contempt for certain criminally non-partisan cartoonists such as Dave Granlund, but even spotlighting or managing a running catalog of their worthlessness as commentators (or in the case of Granlund, who I’m convinced copy and pastes his own caricatures as much as Gorrell does, as an artist) feels like too much effort for how little attention they deserve.

Because even when I’m not posting regularly here I am still looking at dozens of cartoons a day. I have a subscription to a comics service that includes a number of editorial cartoonists, and I follow an RSS feed of Daryl Cagle’s aggregator. I haven’t posted even one percent of all the right-wing shit I’ve seen over the better part of the decade that I’ve been running this place, and while it’s true that so much of it passes in front of my eyeballs and is immediately forgotten, it still adds up.

How many cartoons infantalizing Nancy Pelosi for ripping up Trump’s speech did I see? For that matter, how many trying to use that empty gesture as equivalent to all the shit Trump has done and therefore blame both sides for the division in American did I see? A week from now we’ll all have forgotten about that moment, but that cycle has been repeated so many times. Something visual or easy to analogize happens, and every cartoonist rushes to put out something referencing it, but not saying anything of substance about it.

It’s tiresome. And I don’t have anything to say about that incident that I haven’t said before with other things we’ve all forgotten about.

As I said above, I don’t think most of these cartoonists deserve attention. Given the laziness of Gorrell or Granlund, given the shameless slavish devotion of Benson, Kelley, Ramirez, et al, why should I or anyone waste even a few precious seconds to ingest their work?

I may be a bastard for saying this, but I like the thought that if the newspaper industry is going to continue to die off, then more and more people are going to lose jobs they don’t deserve. The state of editorial cartooning today can not be completely summed up by the stagnation of the careerists who have been syndicated for decades while recycling the same trite observations and hackneyed premises; The Nib has been working to create its own renaissance, with both single-panel topical pieces that actually say something and long-form comic journalism. And there are, as I mentioned above, cartoonists who care to speak truth to power in their own way. I don’t want to see, say, Clay Bennett or Darrin Bell hang up their pen for good. But if the medium is going to make it through the entirety of the Trump administration while still pretending that a man and a woman sitting on a sofa, watching TV and one says ‘They should put a Surgeon General’s warning on the evening news’ is somehow acceptable work for a grown adult whose job is to comment on current events, then don’t expect me to mourn.

Don’t expect me to feel anything. I do have a sincere appreciation for the craft of editorial cartooning. I wouldn’t have started this blog if I didn’t care on some level; shitting on someone’s work just for the sake of shitting on them has never been my idea of fun. That love has been tested, and, yes, beaten down and dried up over the past decade. But it still remains.

Just not enough that I can get worked up enough to want to comment on anything I see. For a long time I haven’t really cared about what I do here. So many posts have been done out of a sense of obligation. ‘I should post something just to keep this place alive.’

But now I don’t even care about that, so...

Thanks to those of you who have engaged with me, but I’m stepping away.

Marvel Team-Up Volume 4 #2 Thoughts

Things get a little better and a little worse this issue

 With the shakey set up out of the way Eve Ewing gets to dive into what she and fans were actually looking forward to from this arc, Freaky Friday with Spidey and Ms. Marvel.

 The results are again...mixed.

 The art work is again nice and the typical Freaky Friday tropes played with in the story, whilst modest and not explored nearly as much as they could be, are touched upon enough to illicit a laugh or two.

The best moment is probably seeing Peter in Kamala’s body appreciate seeing Kamala in his body have fun with his powers. The subtext is it gives him some perspective on how cool it is to be Spider-Man really.

Another area the book succeeded in was deciding to dedicate the whole issue to the 2 protagonists living through one another’s lives as opposed to having other stuff distract from that.

The positives kind of end there though.

Like last issue Ewing pulls the dirty trick of introducing us to some important information about Spider-Man’s life that’s never (to my recollection) been mentioned before.

As bad as it was to say Peter had an old friend we’d never heard of last issue, this issue establishes that he took precautions to never again have his body swapped like in Superior Spider-Man.

There are a few issues with this.

First of all, whilst it’s nice and would be in character for Peter to do that, it makes him look foolish and irresponsible in the main titles for seemingly never doing that. indeed I can all but guarantee this piece of information will be forgotten or ignored in the main titles if anything akin to a body swap occurred again. Prior to this issue we presumed Peter didn’t take precautions but also that he didn’t do that because there was no way for him to do so.

Second of all, it’s really, really disingenuous for something as important as that to have just happened off panel without a mention until now and a mention in a title that is neither a Spider-Man centric title and isn’t even edited by the Spidey office.

Third of all it doesn’t even make sense. Doc Ock never actually swapped his and Peter’s minds literally. He created copies of their minds, uploaded his into Peter’s body and vice versa. The implication from this story seems to be that in fact Peter and Kamala are literally having their consciousnesses transferred back and forth.

Speaking of which, maybe issue #3 will address this but the fact that Peter and Kamala are swapping back and forth seems...contrived; as does Kamala’s neighbours happening to be away for awhile and happening to give her a key.

It seems like a conceit of the story invented just so that Peter wouldn’t have to pretend to be Kamala in front of her parents.

On the one hand that robs us of a lot of potential comedy and shenanigans. On the other the idea that Kamala’s family will be able to deduce something is seriously wrong is very likely and needs to be addressed.

However rather than go that contrived route I don’t see why Ewing didn’t just cut out the middle man and either have the swap happen on the weekend when Kamala could more reasonably not have to spend a night at home or, if she really wanted to have Peter go back to school, have the swap happen after Kamala leaves home at the start of the day but before she gets to school.

Off the top of my head you could have it be that the explosion doesn’t immediately swap them but that they wake up or en route to school/work get hit with the swap. Or have Dr. Rosario’s lecture occur in Jersey thus giving Peter a reason to be there and then Peter as Kamala has to get back to school for the rest of the day.

Putting all this aside perhaps the biggest sin of the story is the fact that it does the Freaky Friday trope but doesn’t really explore much of the obvious issues in this specific scenario.

Typically the Freaky Friday trope occurs between people of the same genders, and somewhat less typically of the same race.

Here the focus is upon the different AGES of Peter compared to Kamala.

Okay sure that’s a dynamic in play in this scenario, but surely Peter reliving High school or Kamala being thrust into the adult world of bills and job interviews is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay less significant than Kamala reacting to how different it is being a white man with a penis or Peter reacting to how different it is being a Pakistani, Muslim girl with breasts and a vagina.

I’m not saying the story should be graphic about this but it’s really disingenuous and unrealistic to set up this scenario and then pretend either of these characters would be more focussed upon being younger/older than being different genders, races and how they get treated differently as a result.

I’m not asking for a sermon about racism, sexism, privilege etc, but just...I’m just asking the story to be believable and realistic. Realistically those issues would not just pop up but be much bigger concerns.

They don’t even try to raise the question of consent in this scenario. We focus more upon secret identities than even giving a throwaway line about Peter and Kamala consenting to let one another use their bodies to change clothes or go to the bathroom. That just happens and we don’t mention it.

Again, this doesn’t have to be graphic, it can even be funny without being crude, but like...just talk about it. Even that Ultimate Spider-Man arc with Wolverine and Spidey swapping bodies kind of touched on these topics a little and that was over 15 years ago.

The most we get is Peter noticing he got one racist comment and having a period, but it’s just glossed over a scene later. Peter meanwhile doesn’t get to teach Kamala about the perils of adult life, which is weird because at face value this is both their stories so you’d think Ewing would keep things ‘even’ in that way. More significantly really this is Kamala’s book but it leans towards Peter learning about being a girl of colour?????* Shouldn’t the focus be more on Kamala in this regard?**

What’s also weird is that the book tries and fails to give Kamala a taste of what being a man is like by painting the perils of shaving as the closest male equivalent to a period.

Let’s put a side a debate about whether that’s true, or indeed how the comparison is cliché.

My bigger question is...Kamala just...knows how to shave?

My even bigger question is...Kamala shaves incorrectly and it causes her to bleed...on a time delay?

Huh?

Yeah in the issue she starts bleeding during an interview because she cut herself shaving but that’s not how that works.

Yeah you can bleed AGAIN later if you cut yourself shaving but it’s written to imply she didn’t start bleeding until that moment when...surely she would’ve been bleeding beforehand when she initially cut herself.

Additionally there is this odd panel where Kamala is admiring Peter’s muscles in a mirror and being upbeat about being an adult...Maybe I’m being dense but how does that translate. I’ve got huge manly biceps...being an adult is awesome. What? It’s a twin of another panel on the same page where Peter as Kamala starts skipping for joy because...he’s young? And this is referred to as ‘the thing’?

Is that a thing?

Do teenagers typically skip for joy to school or anywhere for that matter?

I think the implication is that he’s relishing youthful energy as in an earlier panel he’s happy his knees aren’t aching. But that still doesn’t add up. As Spider-Man his powers afford him a lot of energy and that includes immense leaping abilities. Skipping isn’t something he couldn’t do or that would hurt him. it doesn’t even jive in the issue as Kamala never complains about aches and pains an clearly relishes her newfound acrobatic prowess.

Oh and on this same double page spread Kamala as Peter buys five scratchcards. What the Hell Kamala? When did Peter give you permission to waste his obviously limited funds? Like on the same two pages she took notice of his bills and his job interview.

There is also this weird characterization thing whenever Peter is in Kamala’s body where he suddenly becomes less like Spider-Man and more ‘the intellectual who speaks in a more high brow way but it’s funny because his appearance is at odds with that’. Like he puts his thumb on his chin as he thinks about and postulates about science stuff and talks about the nectar of the Gods when applying lip gloss. What gives?

Finally there is a bit of mischaracterization regarding one another’s secret identities.

Kamala in Spider-Man’s body immediately unmasks in spite of Peter’s protests, then he does the same against her protests to keep things fair.

Now not to be too harsh on Ewing in this scenario inevitably Kamala and Peter would need to unmask one another. In this sense you can cut Peter a little slack as he probably knows it’s going to be next to impossible to go about in Kamala’s body without seeing her real face.

But Kamala seems...rather out of character here. No expert on her character but given how she has her own secret identity would she really so cavalierly violate someone else’s...when they are asking her not to...and then she employs a double standard and asks them not to violate her own identity?

I really don’t buy this at all.

Again you could argue Peter’s actions were a little more justified but at face value it seems he was just being petty.

All in all...I guess this is worth a read for a few laughs and if you just wanna see some of the wackiness with this kind of scenario but over all it has a lot of problems.

P.S. Another issue with this...er...issue, as well as the last one was Ewing for some reason having dialogue that plainly should be though captions just spoken out loud. Why?

*Also is it just me or is it really weird that from now on its canon that Spider-Man knows what a period feels like and loves the taste of cotton candy flavoured lip gloss? If nothing else that’s gotta be something that will be on Spidey listicals in the future right?

**And yet in other ways the focus is more on Kamala, everything happens in Jersey City, it’s rooted in her status quo and supporting cast. Which again is a problem in one sense since this is at face value both her and Peter’s story but more realistically it’s her story, this is her secondary title.

Taken

So here it is. The next chapter. This story will never be abandoned. I'm going to try to get at least one chapter out a month. This chapter has gone through a lot of edits. So hoping it came out good.

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Killian, Emma, and David walked back into the station, to find the girl pacing back and forth in the cell like a crazed animal.

“Ah! Storybrooke’s Avengers have returned! I need to report a theft.” She threw herself against the bars, she seemed almost in a panic.

Emma reveals the items that had been weighing heavily in her hand and her heart. The girl shoulders dropped and she sighed with relief, even as her grip on the bars tightened. “Those are mine. Give them back.” She ground out through her teeth.

“I would like to remind you that as a prisoner you aren't one to make demands. Nor are you privileged to have these items.” Emma said authoritatively. Then after glancing at her husband, her voice grew soft. “But as my daughter, if you asked nicely, I might give you the drawing back.”

The girl froze in her place and soaked in the revelation. “So, you finally came around? You really do need evidence for absolutely everything, don’t you? You can’t even trust your own eyes.”

Emma tried not to flinch as she nonchalantly rebuffed, “Nothing wrong with double-checking your facts.”

She rolled her eyes and took a step away from the bars. “Well now that you did your homework, let's get this started.”

“Get what started?”

“One of these is unlike the others but it was also the only one that was seen. Find it, then find its reflection,” she replied and with that turned her back on the group and plopped down on the cold floor.

“A riddle? Seriously?” Emma deadpanned. The girl shrugged in response.

“Why won’t you just talk to us?” asked Killian, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“The best lesson is the one earned not taught.”

David placed on a hand on his son-in-law’s shoulder. With a sigh Killian asked, “What about your name? Can you tell us your name?”

She said nothing for a while, but just as they turned to get back to work she spoke,

“I am the dreaded pirate Roberts.”

“Yeah, sure. And my name is Inigo Montoya. Watch out for rodents of unusual size, Buttercup.” said Emma. Leave it to my daughter to be a pop culture smartass, she thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Regina's mansion

The parlor door cracked open. The spy scanned the room that held his mom, his aunt, Robin, and his grandmother. They were all watching the scene in the station play out on a mirror.

He held back his laughter when the references started flying. She definitely knows her stuff, he thought to himself. The mirror showed the sheriff and her backup leave the girl alone in her cell again. Just because she’s in a cell doesn’t mean she should be alone.

“What the hell was that?!?!” Zelena shouted.

“It’s a clue,” Snow replied.

“I don’t want a bloody clue! I want--I need my daughter back! I’m going down there and getting some answers. A little fireball should do the trick.” Zelena said as she turned towards the door. Henry quickly hid. Before Zelena could storm out of the room, however, she was stopped by her sister. Regina waved her hand and Zelena’s feet were stuck to the floor.

“No, you are not. I told you you were only allowed to be here, to be involved, if you promised to behave. Now, behave.” Regina waved her hand again and released Zelena. “Besides if the Dark One couldn’t scare her you won’t either.”

As the adults continued to argue, the parlor door silently closed. Quiet feet ran up the stairs. Operation Princess Bride was about to begin.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Footsteps echoed through the empty station.

“I must be the luckiest prisoner in all of Maine. Getting so many surprise visitors, and by none other than Storybrooke’s most famous. First the Dark One, and now the Author.” She leaned further back against the furthest wall from the cell bars. “Let me guess you want to add my story to the book?”

“No. I just figured you might be bored,” Henry lowered himself to the ground and began rummaging through his bag, “so, I brought you some stuff.”

Her curiosity got the better of her as she moved closer to the bars. He pulled out some comic books, a hand-held video game, and a portable DVD player. “I figured you might want some entertainment,” he said holding up the handheld video game. “But I wasn't sure what you liked. So, I went with some of the classics.” Showing off the DVD’s he brought with him.

“I prefer D.C. over Marvel--”

“Lucky for you I have a couple of Justice League comics right here.”

“And Star Wars isn't a classic.”

“What are you talking about? Star Wars is so a classic. Where would Sci-Fi be without Star Wars?”

“In a much better place. Sci-Fi started with Frankenstein, with actual science. Now it's all about outer space and aliens.” She scoffed, but Henry still caught a smile creep to the girls face and counted it as a victory.

“You're such a Leia,” he said exasperatedly. He heard a faint “more like Anakin” and filed it away for later but did not respond to it.

“Oh, I also brought you some snacks,” he said, holding up a couple Apollo bars, “and an offer to sneak you all the hot chocolate with cinnamon you want.”

“I don't care for chocolate.” At Henry’s shocked face, she burst out laughing.

“Are you sure we’re related?” Henry asked teasingly, recovering from his shock.

As her giggles faded away, she asked, “What are you doing here Henry?”

Henry shrugged. “Like I said thought you would be bored. ” he continued after noticing her unconvinced look, “And I thought maybe we could talk.” He looked at his sister. His sister. He still hadn’t processed it completely. He was a big brother. He had a little sister. Of course he had Roland and Rebecca, and he loved them like siblings, but it wasn't the same.

“Talk about… what?” she asked cautiously.

“We can talk about anything. We could talk about movies or books. We can talk about people around Storybrooke,” he offered. Then hesitantly added, “about mom, about our family?”

“Or we could talk about why I'm here. What happened, why I decided to come back. That's what you want to know right? My motives?” She took a step back and scowled.

“Look, we can talk about anything you want. I'm your big brother. You can tell me anything.”

“Oh, is that it? Operation Big Brother, huh? You're my big brother. So, now I'm suppose to spill my guts to you. We have a bonding moment. You convince me that I'm wrong and I deliver the kids to you, huh? You're a town hero and they don't have to worry about the kids or about me, right? That’s why you came here! Why you are giving me this shit trying to butter me up?!”

“No--,” he tried to speak, but she was lost to him.

“Hate to push you off of your ‘big brother’ high-horse. But we don't know you. You're not our big brother. You left and never came back. Being the hero of your own story was more important to you than your family!”

“That's not true. It can’t be...I wouldn’t…I couldn’t...”

“Don’t believe me? Look at the picture again. He barely knows who you are! He doesn’t care about you!” She started shouting, “All he cares about are his mama, his papa, and his great big sister,” she paused a moment to breathe.

Her eyes shined with angry tears and her chest heaved. “You weren’t there, you never were! So stop trying!” Henry looked stricken, but his mind focused on one word.

“He?” he whispered. Then, he remembered the drawing... and the little boy.

Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d given away.

“Get out.” she demanded. She backed away from Henry.

“You...you didn't draw that picture. Our little brother did.”

“Why don't you go report that big bro?” She snapped, as she turned away from him.

Henry paused for a moment before asking, “What happened to him?”

She stiffened. Henry waited a moment before realizing that he’d pushed too far. With a sigh, he pushed off the ground and said, “I really did bring these so you wouldn't get bored. I’ll be back later.” He waited a moment for something, anything from her. “Bye Anny.”

Henry left with his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him leave. Both too trapped in their own heads to notice the shadow in the corner that was watching them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Regina’s mansion

“So,” Zelena started “does anyone know what we are actually looking for?”

“Something that seems to stand out.” Regina answered her sister.

“It has to be Hansel.”

“Nicholas.” Emma corrected without looking up from the papers in front of her.

“Whatever.”

“We really need to figure out if everyone goes by their curse names or Enchanted Forest names,” said Snow.

“Almost everyone in Storybrooke is registered as their curse name so let's go with that. Those that don't have curse names will be called by their fairy-tale names.” Emma kept looking through papers as she followed the conversation.

“Can we get back to this stupid riddle?” Zelena snapped.

“It has to be Nicholas he was the only abduction that had a witness. The only one that was ‘seen’.”

“That would mean that all the other kids were seen being taken. That everyone is lying and watched her take these kids. That Henry is lying and saw Roland-”

“Wait...Roland!”, Emma finally looked up, her eyes wide and mouth agape. “It has to be Roland!” When no one seemed to get it she continued. “She also mentioned ‘reflection’. You see your reflection in the mirror."

“What?”

“Roland was taken in the middle of the day. Roland is also the only one with a parental figure attached to mirrors.”

“What the bloody hell are you going on about?”

“Regina, if you focus on Roland through your mirrors we might be able to find the kids.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Comics were clumsily strewn across the station’s floor. DVDs were thrown all around the room. The handheld was in pieces next to the wall. The cot and it’s bedding was flipped upside down and ripped apart. The abuser lay on all fours and panting. Voices and phantom noises ringing in her ears. Images flashed behind her eyelids. Her eyes burned with the tears that she held at bay. Her teeth were grinding into each other as she held back the frustrated screams that so desperately wanted to escape. The damn was about to break, the mask flaking off, the facade fading away. She was on the verge of letting it all out. Cracking her eyes open, trying in vain to catch her breath, preparing to let go. It was only when the fluorescent lights began flickering that she brought herself back from the edge of a breakdown.

Before she could lift herself off of the ground, a pair of sleek black oxfords appeared in front of her. She looked up to find a dark handsome man with a gleaming smile plastered on his face. She scrambled away from him while simultaneously trying to get to her feet. Though her movements were nervous, her eyes burned with fury.

“Such power in such a small, beautiful package.” His voice was like velvet she once wrapped herself in and longed for. Now, it only made her skin crawl.

Finally steady on her feet, she took a step back from the man before her.

“Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here.”

He tilted his head. His eyes were full of curiosity and he seemed almost disappointed. “It seems that I’m at a disadvantage,” his disappointment faded away and he smirked, “but I have a feeling that the next we meet, the advantage will be mine.”

"What do you want?!” She demanded.

“I’ve just come to pay a visit to the newest resident in Storybrooke. Possibly make a deal?”

“Get out! You’re nothing more than a Dark One wannabe!”

The man pursed his lips. “I see a deal will not be made today. But we will make a deal that will benefit the both of us.”

The girl shook her head and snarled, “I will end you.”

“I’m sorry but that is not in your cards,” He chuckles. The lights flickered and she was once again left alone in her cell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They all stood in front of Regina’s round, ornate mirror that once upon a time inhabited Sidney Glass. Regina raised her hand in front of the glass.

“Are we sure that this is what she meant? Mirrors didn’t work before and they might not work now,” said Zelena.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Regina said. Robin grabbed her hand and squeezed it in support. She closed her eyes and focused on the little boy she had come to care so much for. She thought of all the moments she shared with him and how she had come to think of him as her son. She poured her love and her magic into the mirror. Her fear of losing Roland and watching Robin lose the last remaining piece of his family made a tear roll down her cheek. Finally, the mirror shimmered and glowed. The looking glass rippled before landing on a scene of children running around and playing.

It’s them. It’s the kids.”

The mirror pivoted across the room and focused on Roland watching over a playpen that held three giggling infants.

“He’s okay,” whispered Regina. She squeezed Robin’s hand.

Emma smiled, “They all are.”

Summoning Myself

I don't know who needs to hear this today (well, maybe that's a wee bit of a stretch... I could name some people), but it is often too easy to focus on the difficulties and struggles that have come with openly transitioning over the past 5 months (is that all?), when the positives far outweigh the negatives.

N.B., I understand that much of the threats, negativity, and consequences of my circumstances are mitigated by my privilege. This post does not seek to negate either the struggles I have faced, nor those of transgender people who face so much more, but rather to shine a light on the joy that comes from stepping into the spotlight on the stage of your own Truth.

In no particular order, here are some of the radical and personally profound changes that have occurred since becoming Abby.

1. I smile at my reflection in the mirror.

To be sure, not every day and not that there aren't things I wish were different about my appearance. But...BUT I lived for so long having to look at myself as a chore, a necessary but unpleasant aspect of Looking Presentable.

Now I don't approach the mirror with a resigned spirit. I enjoy the time I spend with me. I take in the little features that make my face unique. I see, finally, what perhaps my loved ones see when they look at me.

I am no longer at odds with my representation.

It's no secret that Mulan is my favorite Disney film ever, and has been since it came out. I didn't always fully understand why, but what a joyful thing it is to have your reflection show who you are inside.

...

I lied.

That was, in fact, #1. Now proceeding with un-ordinated (though numbered) thoughts...

2. I used to hate clothes. 

I mean, truly. I hated clothes the way Trump hates the truth, the Game of Thrones writers hate satisfying conclusions, and Facebook hates showing posts in chronological order.

Used to be, the worst thing I could get as a gift was clothes, no matter how nice they were or how much I needed it. Picking out clothes was a daily grind.

These days, I enjoy my wardrobe (smallish as it is). I like picking out what to wear, I even enjoy the act of getting dressed! "Want to stop by Plato's Closet?" Yes, please!

3. Movement. 

I used to not move very much. I didn't really understand this until after I had started my transition. I felt like moving my body was strictly functional, or sometimes performative. But mostly, I didn't move it that much.

I'm still working on this one, but I've started just moving more. Ironically, I feel like it's OK for me to take up space, both in the physical world and also in the visual one. I think that before, moving my body was an egotistical thing to do (I know, weird, huh?).

It's now a thing I do for me, moving my body, because I enjoy having it and letting it do its thing: My lips, my arms, my hands, my hips. My eyebrows still need some coaxing, but they're coming around.

4. Touch used to make me very, very uncomfortable with everyone except my immediate family. 

Not that I didn't enjoy or want to be touched... I did. But I didn't feel comfortable emotionally or socially receiving it.

That's definitely changed for me. It's the most natural thing in the world for me now to accept warmly the hugs and hand holds and little affections that I receive from my glorious, wonderful friends.

I'm still working on giving it better, but it's progress!

4a. The Wall

Fen has always said that I seem to project an aura that I don't really want to be close, that I have a wall around me keeping people at arm's length. I certainly didn't want that wall, and in fact have spent much of my adult life trying to tear it down with little success.

Most of that comes from the autism, without a doubt. I don't give the correct non-verbal signals that indicate "I'm an open person; feel free to be warm with me."

But it definitely feels like things have changed. I don't know for sure whether that the wall is starting to crack, or if it's that my friends are making an extra effort to scale the wall (or a little of each), but my interactions among my friends have felt so much closer and meaningful and energizing.

(So, just to be clear my friends, even though it may not always look like I'm basking in your attention and company, I definitely am. Don't let the autistic demeanor fool you!)

5. I don't bite my nails. 

OK, I haven't stopped completely yet, but I used to shred my nails to the quick. Now I have long, sculpted nails that I enjoy painting.

6. Walking 

How I walked was not something I even thought about before transitioning, unless something occurred to get in the way of it. It was strictly utilitarian. The way Puritans think of sex: you just do the thing, you don't really DWELL ON IT.

I like walking now. Not in the "it's nice outside I'll go for a walk" sense, but that I enjoy the feeling of my body as it walks. I consider how each leg swings ever so slightly inward as it steps forward, creating a subtle yet graceful bounce in my step.

I remember the first time I spent time walking as myself. It was July in Asheville. Fen had taken me there for a long weekend of hanging out as Abby, and it was amazing. On our last night there, strolling down the crowded street headed to no place in particular, I said to her, "I feel so powerful!"

We use walking as a metaphor for the experience of being who we choose to be: walking our own path, etc. And I know why.

7. Conflict

Dealing with conflict has always been an issue with me, but I've found that, although I still shy away from it, when a tough discussion needs to be had, I'll have it. That's new!

8. Saying YES to myself. 

I used to get incredibly caught up in saying yes to too many things and getting overwhelmed and overburdened. I started stepping away from obligation I don't want or can't take on before transitioning, but I've felt way more comfortable with that stance since.

9. Weeping

I can count on my hands the number of times I've cried since graduating high school and prior to coming out. That's not healthy, to say the least. I still find myself trying to stifle it on reflex, but I've gotten better about just letting it out. And that's taken a lot of stress and tension out of me, both bodily and emotionally.

10. Uprightedness

My posture is much better. I'm still working on it, but it helps to feel good and strong in your body.

11. Emotional Management

Dealing with other people's emotions has always been a challenge, given the autism. But it's easier now, and I'm glad to be able to be more emotionally there for my loved ones (and I'll continue to work on it). It still takes more spoons for me than for most, I think, but I'm digging it.

12. French Fries

My willpower is getting stronger! I've lost 25 pounds since mid-July. I've made some very conscious choices to screw my diet for emotional health weeks, but the rest of the time I've found it easier to follow the diet plan. It helps that I have a reason to care about the results beyond a vague sense of being healthy!

13. I take selfies!

14. Community

I've often felt like George Bailey from "It's a Wonderful Life," wondering whether I really existed for other people beyond my immediate presence. I don't wonder that any more.

Like the townsfolk gathering around George with their contributions to rescue the Savings & Loan, the response of my community has been overwhelming! Whether it's the small messages I receive when friends know I have had a trying day, or genuine bright smiles I see when they greet me, I am encircled in love.

This circle of love and support is not a metaphor.

It's a magic circle.

It was made strong by each and every one of you in all the various ways you have supported me.

You have summoned for me a powerful space for becoming: a pocket universe of love for me to claim as my own.

XPWEW Heatwave 2018 (8-18-2018)

XPWEW 2018 Heatwave *Opening Video Package about the return of XPWEW *Flame pyro-technics *Jaques Dudley entrance with plenty pyrotechnics *Intro with Joey Styles & Shane McCoy on commentary quickly swinging it back to the fast paced opening contest of Rey & Jaques *Rey Mysterio entrance with several women wearing luchador masks *Rey Mysterio is wearing a Marvel Deadpool inspired outfit and mask M1: Jaques Dudley defeats Rey via pin fall *Gorilla Position: Rey walks behind the curtain to a round of applause by Troy Clausen thank you for being here Rey I greatly appreciate it. Jaques walks behind the curtain slowly and glares into a stare off with Troy. Troy embraces for a hug and Jaques denies his advancement. Troy explains, he wants to “bury the hatchet”. The past is the past so lets leave it together. Troy exclaims how he is a changed man and two things on this earth don’t hold grudges. that being basketballs and Troy Clausen. Troy persistently sees how Jaques is unimpressed by his apology. “Listen here, I understand why your upset with me. You proved me wrong! You proved me wrong to the whole world like..half a decade ago. I can change. I have. Jaques says “I just lived a childhood dream with a legend in this industry, Rey Mysterio. I’m on quite an adrenaline rush at the moment. I don’t wanna hear your fake apologies. I just want to be XPWEW Champion again. Troy says, I’ve already figured out the world title situation. and you know what I’ll spill the beans now. You just beat the legendary Rey Mysterio. So, I tell you what. Next week on Pyro. I’ll let you know but as of right now. You are in really good contention to be in the title chase. I think you’ll like the new title design as well. I’ll reveal it on Pyro this friday. Troy exits to the right in front of Jaques to a unique camera angle of Troy walking with the camera backward down the hallway. *Troy enters the green room of Heatwave tonight to adult film star Mia Khalifa. Who is here to promote the 2018 PornHub awards to be held in Los Angeles later this month, Troy banters back and forth acknowledging. Mia explains her interest in being the advisor to XPWEW by her interests in sports and her involvement in pro wrestling with her encounter with indie star Joey Ryan has perked her interest into getting into pro wrestling. Troy buries the lead only to politely flirt with Mia only for Chris Johnson to enter stage left on Mia Khalifa’s side of the screen. (Johnson gets a pretty big pop from the crowd) Chris Johnson talks about how he’s more aware than he ever has been before and he saw Troy talking to Jaques earlier and reminds him. “If you are already putting him! In contention for the world title, lets not forget who broke that streak of his. Troy attempts to respond quickly **Bigger Pop** until Hardcore Legend Mick Foley appears to kiss the hand of Mia Khalifa. Mick: Mia its a privilege to meet you right here! in the Los Angeles California! Troy laughs as CJ mean mugs. Troy: Chris! If you have a grievance may I introduce you to the NEW! first time ever! Leader of human resources! Mick Foley! You see Chris if you have any issue, talk to Mick. He’s here to help you. Mick: Says I’m a huge fan Chris Johnson interrupts only to gloat about how great he is and as soon as he gets going. Foley interjects to remind him I was actually talking about Mia’s work on the internet but you are pretty talented too. Johnson gets up in Mick’s face. Johnson: Mick, I know we’ve never met but as a warning to you from me. I’d suggest you watch your mouth when you speak to me or you’ll leave here quicker than you came. Johnson walks away (awkward silence between Mia,Foley & Troy Clausen) Foley: Mia I guess if I were leave quicker than I came then maybe I might not be cut out for your industry. Bang! Bang! *Sick Nick Mondo entrance with new brown gear as opposed to his classic lime green attire *Milk Man entrance wearing a really unique Chocolate version of his old uniform full with Chocolate milk liters which means Mondo is matching. *Siaka Lexoni & Ruckus entrance together with new theme music performed LIVE by Maxo Kream & Playboi Carti M2: Milk Mondo ENT vs Ruckus & Lexoni *Ruckus picks up the win for his team with a Bankroll onto Milk Man. *Siaka Lexoni celebrates with Ruckus and calls for the music to stop. Siaka starts controlling his breathing and says. I can’t believe I’m about to say this but I plan on retiring here tonight and this was my last match. I wanna thank everyone here for allowing me to perform all over the world for you for the past 10 years. Today marks my 10th year as a professional wrestler and I wanna thank Ruckus for being my best friend, my brother and thank you for everything. They both hug and hold hands up high and Siaka breaths in the admiration of the crowd by jumping the rail and greeting a farewell to the fans up close and personal in the stands as the screen fades to black *Troy Clausen walking backstage and a door opens adjacent to him. Joel Gertner comes out of the door and shakes Troy’s hand and Troy says Joel. I am granting you a position as well. You are now my assistant and mind you I’m a changed person and that role will not be a chance for me or anyone to take advantage of you. Hey by the way who else showed up. Troy: Did Future make it? Joel: Sir, he is in tour across the country Troy: You sure he couldn’t make it Joel: I’m pretty sure but Tito Santana is here *Tito Santana appears out of the door to a big smile and a good pop Troy: I was looking for Future not 6ix9ine or is that your age huh huh. You see Tito, I listen to my audience and they don’t like you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t come here. They hug. Tito: Obviously I can’t afford to be the private advisor. I’m not made of money. Troy honestly aren’t you like a BP oil tycoon? Why can’t you just pay for all this. I’m retired. I just wanted to be here for the boys. but concerning your boy Troy: ha ha did you train him well? *Curt Clausen appears to Clausen’s left and shakes Tito’s hand. Troy: proudly looks at Curt - up and down. My son! You remind me of a young me. Are you ready for your first official match as “Champagne” Curt Clausen! Curt: Dad, I’ve never been more prepared for anything in my life Troy: Go get em’ champ. I love that kid. *Chris Johnson entrance *Curt Champagne Clausen M3: Chris Johnson vs Champagne Clausen w/ manager Tito Santana *Clausen wins with a shocking roll-up finish and Johnson is beside himself and is openly frustrated *Mick Foley and Mia Khalifa backstage watching a monitor. Mia: he does look like a 70’s porn star Mick: I do wish that 70’s style did come back to main stream consciousness like a little hair you know a knock on the door: Jake Awesome, : Mick you wanted to see me Mick: Jake yes, how are you. We’ve never formally met before. So this is a big deal my son Mickey is a huge fan or yours Jake: thanks it means allot coming from you Mick: I just wanted to inform you that Troy Clausen has given me the instruction that I am going to be the special guest referee for you and Slayer tonight. I’ve actually been trying to contact him all night to no luck but I do have another person here Vince Russo appears: Mick, bro its been too long. Jake Awesome now thats what a professional wrest-a-luh is suppose to look like bro. Jake, you are a stud just like your father it’s great to meet you *Russo gets a very mixed reaction Jake: humbly shakes Russo’s hand and asks speaking of which, Why did you make my dad That 70’s guy. Bro c’mon the Aston Kutcher show was doing big numbers bro it was just business! just business! strictly business bro! Jake: smirks and laughs Mick: (interjects) I will input I did think Dude Love was a more successful hippie inspired character than that of the fat chick thriller but I’m not judging Jake: (quick laugh and walks out) *tanaka entrance *blackman entrance M3: Steve Blackman vs Masato Tanaka *Blackman wins this match with a brain buster suplex bridge pin after a very close contest. Blackman grabs the microphone and urges Tanaka to shake hands as a sign of good sportsmanship, Tanaka accepts only for Blackman to kick him in the balls in response Blackman: I don’t have the god damn patience for you or any of the scum here in LA tonight *crowd boos* Blackman: Look at all the people here tonight huh look int the front row. Well thats Mr. Red cap to the back himself. Frederick First! *camera switches to Fred Durst in the front row Blackman: smirking approaches him and does a quick interview but cuts it short bashing Durst with the microphone and then shinzo kicking him in the head only for security to separate them Blackman pleads up to the ramp with the mic in hand Blackman: security can’t stop me, Fred Durst couldn’t stop me. but I am back with purpose. I am the greatest champion in this company’s lineage runs through me and I’d like to introduce my new manger. better yet my new litigator. Will Olafuub and Eddie Edwards *Olaffub & Edwards enter and embrace Blackman *Olaffub takes the mic. This is the new wave. This is the dark web of professional wrestling. We seek the truth. We are The Truth of professional wrestling. The Lethal Weapon Steve Blackman The Human Visegrip Eddie Edwards and introducing The Luminary!!! Croyle Brodie Croyle entrance! We want all the gold and we will not rest until we have it We are the Truth Infantry. *Backstage: Jim Cornette is revealed to be famous YouTuber Brian Zane in disguise cuts a scathing promo on how the current state of professional wrestling is in the toilet. He wants to give his blessing to Leonard & Dennis McGraw. A return to the basics. A return to class and prestige. He also calls out Russo as a coward for leaving. *Pac aka Neville makes his entrance to a big ovation from the crowd. Maybe biggest of the night *Tanhashi enters to a nice pop as well M4: Tanahashi vs Pac *After a chess match match with Neville taking most of the offense the match. Neville wins with a bridge pin tiger suplex. Tanahashi clearly frustrated with himself hesitates to leave the ring but does and somberly walks up the ramp. *Romeo Roselli interview with new official xpwew interviewer Kandi Khaos INTERVIEW: Romeo politely answers the questions of his excitement looking forward with XPWEW. Romeo dressed up as iconic drag queen “Divine” most famously portrayed from the 1970’s film Pink Flamingos. Romeo has a gucci bag, inside he reveals “The Heavens Crown Championship title. A very unique title with a powder blue strap and silver plate, He reveals that starting on pyro he will gracefully defend this title every single week! The Seven Minutes In Heaven Challenge will be inaugurated next friday on the season premiere of Pyro {Romeo Roselli defends the Heavens Crown Championship each week in a 7 minute match against a mystery opponent.} *Taka Michinoku enters wearing a Will Osperay t-shirt just to shoutout his buddy over in NJPW. Big pop *Kota Ibushi enters to streamers from the side ramp like crazy. Great pop for his debut here in XPWEW 2 out of 3 falls M6: Taka Michinoku vs Kota Ibushi *Kota wins the first fall *Taka wins the second fall *Kota Ibushi wins the third fall after multiple missed M7: Leonard & Dennis McGraw accompanied by Brian Zane destroy a local talent tag team called The LA Rydas *Backstage: Slayer sitting in what appears to be a secluded janitor’s closet and Marc Snow appears and Slayer almost jumps in self defense and Marc steps in with a birthday card. I know it’s your birthday today. Slayer heistantly accepts and Marc says I’m not going to apologize for anything. I just wanna tell you I support you and I love you and I wish I would have said it sooner. Slayer actually goes in for a huge and fucking history is made as Slayer and Marc Snow hug it out and the decades of father/son abuse may have just ended right before our eyes at Heatwave *Backstage: Jake Awesome now in his ring gear passes by Mick Foley talking with Troy Clausen, Joel Gertner & Will Ollafub. Jake asks Mick for advice. Mick says well see I’ve seen enough of Slayer to know. But Jake I’m a well versed XPWEW fanatic! and I know that in big match scenarios, in big fights, sink or swim, fight or die, adapt or perish. Jake Awesome. The mammoth. is the greatest xpwew wrestler ever. Most decorated. Most successful. The best. You don’t need to ask Mick Foley for anything. Believe in you! You can conquer and good luck tonight Jake. Jake smiles and pats Mick on the back and thanks him thoroughly. Mick smiles in the distance *promo hyping the psychotic clowns. Kirby Lee and Joe Gacy. Coming soon!!!! IN RING: *Troy Clausen hits the ring with Joel Gertner and his son Curt “Champagne” Clausen. Joel has a crate filled with what appears to be plaques Troy hands a plaque to Joey Styles as the greatest commentator in XPWEW history Joey rebuttals with a “well the only one but thanks” Troy hands a plaque to Jaques Dudley for being the best person he can be He cues Jaques to enter the stage but after silence he’s like “I’ll find him, I’ll give it to him. I’ve buried the hatchet me and Jaques are cool now.” Troy gets Joel Gertner and Champagne Clausen to grab a big bag of candy “Zero” I love a zero bar! Joel throws bars of candy into the crowd and so does Troy. Troy says now that all the love is in the air. I have the esteemed honor to announce to you the official advisor to XPWEW Ladies and Gentlemen… *Glass breaks STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN appears for the first time in the XPWEW arena and he doesn’t live for from Los Angeleees as he says on his podcast Stone Cold hits all four corners buried in cheers from the crowd. He stops. Clausen again announces him. Stone Cold grabs the mic. runs down joel, then champagne then troy but he’s not here to be an “advisory” Stone Cold don’t rock with that. He’s a sheriff. Sheriff Austin. and i’m gonna make sure everything works. and i’ll be damn any of those wrestlers in the back, Troy says that curt clausen almost looks like a young stunning steve austin. Pizza delivery arrives. Austin: Pizza? Troy: Yes, pizza, do you mind getting it, you are the advisor after all Austin: Wait you want stone colds money? thats what this is about Troy: I thought this is why you sold the broken skull ranch?? Austin: (to the crowd) if you think troy clausen is only out to get my money and stab ,me in the back for his own benefit, give me a hell yeah Crowd: HELL YEAH Troy: no! no! I’m a changed man! Austin: recalls his history with jaques dudley, i know what kinda person ya are Stone Cold didn’t come here to hand over any money and stone cold ain’t here in the EX PEE DUBYA EE DUBYA to do nothing but make damn sure things are running up to make this company, a fixture of the pro wrestling world and as my first act I’d like to get started on the right foot {Austin gets up in Clausen’s face} Austin: DTA - thats a moniker I live my life by. I here now am the sheriff of that locker room and i will call the shots 50/50. Not BS. No shortcuts so I’m gonna warn you now. Don’t get under my skin, don’t ruffle my feathers, don’t test me, basically what I’m saying is don’t piss me off! Now if ya wanna see jake awesome take on the ole’ dragons layer in the main event give me a hell yeah LETS EAT SOME PIZZA Clausen smiles and cheers Gertner already has half a pizza in his mouth Austin gets a couple beers thrown at him, hands them off and then while they all drink one delivers a stone cold stunner to the pizza man *Mick Foley entrance as special guest referee *Slayer entrance *Jake Awesome entrance M9: Slayer vs Jake Awesome *Slayer wins by submission with the helm sharpshooter. {the first time jake awesome has ever lost via submission} Mick lifts Slayer’s arm in victory THE END

UnderLate: Broken Fate. Chapter 11

The walls of his room were changed by the bored gray of the abandoned laboratory. They had appeared before the machine of determination, one that reminded him of dark times of his past. Sans lost a few seconds in his memories, until he heard a voice.

"S ... Sans? What are you doing here?”

"Heya, Alphys. Your weekly visit? I didn’t know it was today.”

"I couldn’t sleep, so I came to spend time with them," said Alphys. Sans still saw strange Alphys attire, without the usual lab coat. Instead, she was wearing a white dress with light blue neck. He liked her new look, although she was still looking like a nerd, which didn’t matter to Sans either. He had been one of those, too, “I deserve all this.”

"Hey, Alph, it was an accident. Don’t be mortified.”

"Only you know what happened. And not because I wanted to.”

"What we're going to do, there's nothing to escape my eyesockets" he said, pointing his eyes at her. As he moved, Alphys noticed the bundle in his hands.

"Oh, that's ... what was she called ...?"

"Shhh, speak lower," Sans told him, “I don’t want she wake up. And her name is Frisk.”

“Frisk, yes. Is she okay, has something happened to her? Don’t tell me that Undyne...”

"No,Undyne is her friend now. Though not fast enough, "said Sans, more seriously, “Alphys, I'll need your help. Asgore comes for her, I have no time left and I need to know many things. I need another scientist to help me.”

"I don’t know if I'm the best choice, Sans," Alphys hesitated, “My experiments haven’t gone well. I'm ... I'm a mess. I'll hurt Frisk.”

“You won’t do it. Look at me, Alphys, you're the only person I can trust. Besides, you owe me, remember? I didn’t say anything when I found you in your cabin, not even my brother, and I helped you carry your little lab. And I don’t like lying to Pap.”

"It's ... it's okay. But you will be in charge. What do you want to do with it?”

"I have an intuition but for that I must dig deep into his soul." Sans looked at DT's machine, he didn’t like the idea but there was no other, “We must awaken the beast again.”

“But ... but ... if it has never been used... Sans, this has been here since I arrived and nobody knows how it works.”

"That's why don’t worry, Alph. We just have to turn it on.”

“But how? It has no power button, I thought of a word, but there is no way to...”

"Activated machine,"

Sans spoke in a strange language, as he said those words, a glow emerged from the machine and the next screen turn on. No one knew it but he had seen it work. And who had done it.

**

Napstablook spent all day in the ruins, not knowing what to do. Frisk hadn’t come to the meeting and knew she hadn’t forgotten. Frisk was too good to leave planted on purpose. And, not only that, she was in the underground the last time they met. He felt horribly guilty that something had happened to her to get the net.

“Frisk, where are you?” He said, distressed.

"We lost her," said a voice from below. Napstablook looked at the ground where he saw a small flower with face. Flowey ignored the ghost's surprise and continued talking, “She shouldn’t have left here.”

"Is ... is Frisk all right?" He asked the flower, but he didn’t seem to listen to him. Flowey didn’t even look at him.

“We were happy, right? But she won’t be able to come back here, that smiley trashbag wo’t leave her. And I can’t go near her without risking he seeing me. He doesn’t understand... she's mine.”

Napstablook understood nothing of what that flower said, there was a noise that caught his attention. He flew in that direction, approaching the house of the lady of the ruins, Frisk's mother. This seemed empty, his fear growing. Napstablook heard a laugh but saw nothing.

“What happen?” Flowey appeared by the withered tree, beside the ghost. Laughter rang again, “Frisk ... have she returned?”

"They look like human laughter," Napstablook said, “But they aren’t like Frisk. These are... terrifying.”

"You know nothing, you stupid ghost. They are human, they are Frisk. She's back.”

“Peek a boo” From behind, a hand held a knife that pierced the body of Napstablook. Flowey watched him disappear as a well-known child laughed at him, her green sweater filled with dust.

“Greetings, Asriel. Do you think I haven’t recognized you inside that flower?”

“Chara?”

**

With Alphys as an improvised assistant, Sans worked faster than he thought. Several graphics and statistics appeared on the big screen, in front of the DT machine. Inside Frisk rested, her red soul levitated outside the machine, held by several purple threads that came out of the end of this. It was curious that this machine reminded him of his Gaster blaster, although it shouldn’t be so strange. In the end, both had been created by the same person.

"It does not make sense." Despite the initial confusion, Alphys began to understand the codes and numbers that appeared on the screen. That's why he had made her part of this, she was the only one capable of understanding him, apart from him. And to see the same, to make sure he hadn’t gone mad, “Okay, determination is a very powerful thing, but ...”

"It's not complete," Sans finished. He knew that something was happening and that it was in his soul, “I don’t know how I was so stupid not to see it.”

“But how? There's nothing in Las Ruinas I can do ... that. Neither Toriel herself.”

"No ... this comes from before. Maybe when I ... leave her vulnerable.”

“Huh? What do you mean, Sans?” Alphys asked. Sans sighed, leaving the screen behind him.

"Nothing important," he said as he approached the machine. In front of him was the soul of Frisk, trapped. It seemed so normal, consistent ... despite the scars that covered it. And not to mention that, inside, it was empty. It should be full of determination, but something had drained it, not quite but if it had been a rather important loss. It must have been after that reset, maybe it would have been his fault?

He didn’t want to think about it but, he couldn’t get out of the mind that all that, those lost years, not only stained the girl's hands, if they did. How could he blame her for something she didn’t remember? He must have looked for another way or settled for what they had. They could have stayed to the girl, or when Toriel returned to govern, to be her child, like now. They would remain locked up but Frisk had the ability to keep their hearts full of hope.

He should have convinced her to stay. That what had happened wasn’t so bad. He was the adult on that occasion, but he had bowed to the illusions of an eleven-year-old girl. And, by their own desires.

" I'm sorry,Frisk." He was about to touch her soul, but he restrained himself. It wasn’t a good idea, unless the owner of that soul accepted. And he didn’t feel worthy of that privilege.

"Oh, Sans?" Alphys's voice took him out of his stupor. He turned to see what was worrying. Everything went crazy, the numbers moved at full speed and the graphics changed, “I think it’s failing. I don’t know how to fix it.”

"Damn it." Sans pounded the buttons but didn’t seem to be being answered, “I'm going to get Frisk out of there.”

At least the threads continued to respond to him. They released the soul of Frisk and this one entered until the interior of the machine, where the girl was. Sans opened the compartment where she lay, asleep thanks to the drug. Her soul was close to her chest, but it didn’t enter in her body and Sans didn’t want to move her until it came back inside her.

"Come on, don’t make me do it by force.” Sans said impatiently. The soul took too long for his patience, and he had enough. The screen next to Alphys began to blink red, “Well, so be it.”

Sans turned her soul to blue and drew her to Frisk's chest. Already in its place, it began to disappear, returning to her body. Once it was in place, he picked up the girl and jumped away.

"Machine deactivated," Sans almost shouted in the same strange language. Then all the lights failed at once, frightening Alphys. One of her amalgamates came to comfort her, she caressed his gut to relax him.

"It's okay, they're friends.” Alphys said to him, who seemed satisfied and left with a bark-like groan, “I must finish feeding and taking care of them.”

"Fine," Sans said, nodding, “I'm sorry, I took advantage of your time.”

"It doesn’t matter if that helps. She's not bad, is she? It doesn’t seem.”

"There's a bad guy here, but it's not her," Sans said sadly, “In spite of everything, she had a happy life, she was lucky. And, now, I must take it off. Because, it's the right thing, right? Follow our plan ... look for a happy ending.”

"I don’t know what you're talking about, so I can’t help you," Alphys said, “But you're going to be busy. And, as I know you, you won’t want her to know what you've done, right? That's why she's high. The sample ... I can investigate it for you. That way you can take care of her.”

"Thank you, Alphys." With his magic, he drew the sample they had taken from Frisk's soul to the scientist, who took it between her paws, “Whatever, call me. Any time.”

“Don’t worry. Now sleep, you need it.”

"See ya, Alph," Sans said, before disappearing.