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#contender for best joke that took more than 5 minutes to set up
darksidc · 1 year
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vampire jerma shrine made by jerma himself
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mashitandsmashit · 4 years
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America’s Got Talent: Season 15 - Quarter-Finals 3
11: Dance Town Family. I might have been more impressed if I hadn't seen several acts like this before. They have excellent precision, but they're not the first to have it. Not a bad way to start the show, but on a night as cutthroat as tonight, it didn't take me long at all to forget about them...
10: Annie Jones. Could she have made a better song choice? Maybe...Still didn't stop me from having almost as much fun as she always does when she performs...
9: Nolan Neal. What a cruel stroke of luck for this guy to have (on top of what he's already been through), having a last minute switch with Thomas Day, who would have probably been one of the easier eliminations for this week...But because of the sudden rescheduling, this turned an already stacked night into a real nightmare to predict! Sadly, as much as I have appreciated him so far, the heavy competition and his early placement in the line-up could do in the chances he had BEFORE this switch, while Thomas Day's chances have just gone up a bit...To be fair, this wasn't the best display of his vocals, at least compared to his audition...I guess the original song wasn't bad though...
8: Max Major. Well, we finally get to see his legs...And I see he's not a shoe person...Glad to finally see his full abilities in this (disturbingly scarce for this season) genre of talent, and he didn't do half bad at it! It wasn't the greatest mentalist trick I've seen, but the clever methods he put into it kept me invested. On a weaker night than tonight, I'd be all for this guy advancing, but there is just so much to choose from, it's enough to make your head spin!
7: Sheldon Riley. Well HERE'S a song I never expected to work as a ballad, but here we are! His fashion really helps him stand out, even though tonight he veered a bit into looking like an extra from Tarsem's “The Cell”, so I guess he has a touch of creepy as well...I like it!
6: Cristina Rae. One of those songs I'm sick to death of hearing on this show, but Cristina's unique arrangement helped it stand out...Her singing is SO perfect...that I don't really have much else to say...
5: Usama Siddiquee. Comedy is a very narrow tightrope to walk...On one hand, challenging people's sensibilities is kind of a requirement in this field...But this isn't Comedy Central we're talking about here, it's “America's Got Freaking Talent”, where sensitive families around the country are watching, and one of the judges has a stick up her butt when it comes to comedy...I can already feel self-righteous people everywhere calling for Usama to be #Cancelled, actual context be damned, but he is easily the best comedian of the season...Only problem is, due to his placement and the rather uncomfortable reception he got, I'm no longer nearly as confident for him as I was last week...
4: Alan Silva. I take it the part with the spikes was NOT the trick he was talking about, because if he messed THAT up, he would have done a lot more than break his neck! Joking aside, this guy could very well be the best aerial act to ever come on the show, and is among the few to really stand out to me! I guess watching couples do it all the time starts to get monotonous...Sometimes it takes only one person to stand out, stature be damned!
3: Bonebreakers. It looks like tonight belongs to the cool young brothas! It was EXTREMELY close between these Top 3 entries, but I guess out of the three, this one would make the weakest hour-and-a-half show...But their contortions are mesmerizing, they have excellent showmanship, and their set was fun and flashy, if a little TOO flashy...(What's worse, getting nauseous from watching these guys turning into human taffy, or getting a seizure from the flashing background?) PS, What the hell happened to the fourth guy that they not only never brought him up, but also Trotsky'd him out of the clip of their audition!? Some kinda conspiracy going on here...?
2: Malik DOPE. I wouldn't say that Malik is the greatest drummer in the world, but he sure knows how to experiment with it and make it a show! And after his little story in the package, I'd say he has a better chance at advancing now than I previously thought!
1: W.A.F.F.L.E. Crew. It's one thing to be able to utilize so many creative moves, and quite another to utilize them across such an expansive set! Looked like they were in their natural habitat, and they took full advantage of it!
Definitely the best show of the season so far! ...Problem is, that means some great acts will be denied entry into the next round (again, not helped by switching out who looked like an easy out for a legitimate contender). Shame they only have two spots for wildcards in the next round, because it looks to me like they will need a lot more than that for this week alone!
My Votes: I concentrated my votes on Waffle, Bonebreakers, Malik and Usama.
Result Predictions: Some acts seem to have better odds than before...Aside from Malik who I already addressed, Bonebreakers also has a compelling story...And since they were the last act Howie called his favorite of the night, therefore I guess they remained his favorite, MAYBE that will help them...? Also, Dance Town Family will surely have hundreds of family members to help them out...And I hope being placed near the beginning of the show (before an hour-long RNC break) didn't hurt Waffle's chances...
I guess I'll take my best guess with the list again...
11: Annie Jones
10: Usama Siddiquee
9: Dance Town Family
8: Bonebreakers
7: Nolan Neal
6: Max Major
5: Alan Silva
4: Malik DOPE
3: Sheldon Riley
2: W.A.F.F.L.E. Crew
1: Cristina Rae
But I'm not making any wagers here...
See you tomorrow when Jon Dorenbos tries to ease the immense tension...And the Wiki says that Tape Face is gonna be there too, even though nobody mentioned him on the show tonight...I suppose I wouldn't put it past him to drop in unannounced...
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wrestlingisfake · 4 years
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Full Gear preview
Jon Moxley vs. Eddie Kingston - Moxley is defending the AEW men’s world championship.  (He’s also the IWGP United States champion, but that title is not at stake.)  This is an “I quit” match, so the only rule in effect is that the match cannot end until one participant verbally concedes the match; the other participant thereby wins and will be the champion.
Kingston is an unlikely headliner for such a stacked show.  Despite a long and storied career, he’s mainly known for his work on the indies, and his reputation among wrestlers who hold his work in high regard.  It took him until 2020 to get to this level (when he was on the verge of retiring), and even now that he’s in the majors he’s not a top contender.  Lance Archer “eliminated” him to win a September 5 battle royale for a title shot, but the elimination was a blown call.  Kingston bellyached about the finish until he was granted a title match of his own, which Moxley won by ref stoppage.  Kingston continued to make excuses, and had his “family” beat down Moxley.  At this point, Mox is so pissed at his former friend that he’d probably demand this second title match even if Kingston hadn’t issued the challenge.
A big part of this match is that wrestling fandom has woken up about how great Eddie always was, and there’s a lot of excitement about him possibly disrupting the AEW topcard to score a rich reward for 18 years of hard work.  But to me the real selling point here is that it’s an “I quit” match where I genuinely believe both guys would rather die than say the words.  When WWE does these matches, they usually have a heel give in to cowardice, or a babyface surrender to save a friend in distress, or some screwjob with a tape recorder.  I don’t think any of that stuff is going to happen here.  These guys are going to endure some sick shit just for the sake of pride.
I think Moxley has to win and retain the championship, which means he has to make Kingston verbally quit.  I don’t know what the fuck Mox can do to achieve that condition, but it should be fun/gross finding out.
Kenny Omega vs. Hangman Page - This is the final match in an eight-man elimination tournament to determine the next challenger for the AEW men’s world title.  Page defeated Colt Cabana and Wardlow to get here, while Omega defeated Sonny Kiss and Penta El 0M.
I was gonna run down the whole Hangman Page saga, from the day he lost to Chris Jericho to the day Omega walked out on him.  But then AEW did that “Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone)” video, so now any summary I can provide seems superfluous.  The point here is that Page fell into depression and let his friends down, so Omega broke up their tag team to return to singles competition, and now they’ve managed to cross paths once again.  Is Omega slowly turning heel?  Will he complete that apparent heel turn by mercilessly destroying Page?  Or can they work out their problems in the ring and shake hands when it’s over?  We’ll soon find out.
The smart money is on tonight’s show setting up Jon Moxley vs. Kenny Omega.  However, I don’t think AEW needs to get to that destination right away, so we could potentially see a Page win here to keep the story going.  Expectations are high for this match being very, very good.  Will the story be enough to put it over the top?  I’ve got a good feeling that it will, and that the icing on the cake will be an upset by Page.
Cash Wheeler & Dax Harwood vs. Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson - Wheeler and Cash are FTR, the AEW tag team champions.  Matt and Nick are the Young Bucks, and they earned this title shot by winning a four-way match on October 21.  Matt Jackson has vowed that if the Bucks cannot win this match, they will never again challenge for this championship.
This match has been in the making for years, going back to when Wheeler and Harwood (as Dash Wilder and Scott Dawson, the Revival) emerged as rivals for the Bucks’ status as the top tag team in pro wrestling.  “Fuck The Revival” became a running joke on the Bucks’ Youtube show, right up until Wheeler and Harwood got their releases from WWE in order to come here.  FTR stands for the kind of old-school wrestling that the Bucks thumb their noses at, and FTR’s gimmick is that they bitch just like the kind of old-school wrestling fans who thumb their noses at the Bucks.
The Bucks have been trying to win the tag title since it was first introduced, but they’ve always managed to come up short.  After FTR manipulated Hangman Page into screwing them out of a potential title shot (clearing the way for FTR to win the gold), the Bucks snapped and started trying to regain their edge.  This hasn’t really made a lot of sense, though, because instead of getting more ruthless and intense against their opponents in the ring, they’ve just been behaving like dicks to non-wrestlers backstage.  If their bad attitude had directly led to them getting this match, I think the story might have landed better; as it is, they were selected literally at random to enter the 10/21 four-way, so it didn’t really make any difference.
The stipulation has people buzzing because a) Cody Rhodes had a similar stip a year ago, so we know it’s not a joke, and b) Matt Jackson is working through a knee injury, so it may not make sense for him to win a championship right this minute.  I suppose it’s possible that Matt knows his in-ring days are numbered and this stip is the beginning of the end of his career.  But I think it’s more likely that they just want to set up a scenario where we know the Bucks are behind the 8-ball, to build to more drama when they finally win the belts.  The knock against a Bucks title win is that it’s too soon for FTR to drop the title, but then again I think it would work for the two teams to trade the championship back and forth for a few months.  I’m going with new champs here.
Hikaru Shida vs. Nyla Rose - Shida is defending the AEW women’s world championship, after somebody finally remembered Rose exists.  I’m fine with some major title matches in AEW being thrown together without an epic drama behind them.  But in this case it’s just annoying because everything in the women’s division feels thrown together without much consideration.  I’m guessing Shida retains to keep everything on the same treadmill it’s been on.
Chris Jericho vs. MJF - This is a rare heel vs. heel battle.  If MJF wins, he will be permitted to join Jericho’s stable, the Inner Circle. I was curious what MJF’s next move would be after losing to Jon Moxley on September 5, and this is it.  He’s been angling to get into the group through a series of goofy skits, and he’s assured Jericho that he will do anything to win this match.
The main intrigue here is that the Inner Circle seems divided on whether they even want MJF to join.  Sammy Guevara and Ortiz are so down on MJF that they tried to take him out so he couldn’t get to this match.  Jake Hager and Santana are apparently cool with him, or at least uncommitted.  Jericho acts like he sees MJF as a kindred spirit, but he’s too wily to trust the guy, so his real intentions here are unclear.
The easy way to book this is for MJF to do “anything” by way of convincing some (or all) of Jericho’s lackeys to help him win the match and kick Jericho out of the group.  I think the only fans who aren’t expecting that are the ones who think it’s too obvious.  Of course, any such breakup doesn’t have to be on this show, so everything could be civil here and then the big angle happens in six weeks, or six months.  One way or another, though, we’re going to see how far MJF is willing to go to win, and we’ll be starting the next chapter of the story.  And I really think that chapter has to begin with an MJF victory.
Cody Rhodes vs. Darby Allin - Cody is defending the AEW TNT championship.  This will be their fourth match; Cody currently leads the series 2-0-1.  It feels like they’ve been building up to Darby getting a big win over Cody, and I don’t see the point of going back to this match now unless that win’s finally going to happen.  If Cody retains I think it’ll leave a sour taste in everyone’s mouth, regardless of whether it sets up a Darby win down the road.  So I sure hope Allin wins, because I can’t imagine what else will work in this context.
Matt Hardy vs. Sammy Guevara - This is being billed as “The Elite Deletion,” and I’ve heard it was pre-taped, so I’m guessing it will be a mini-movie kind of match like Undertaker vs. AJ Styles.  Matt Hardy fans will of course recall that he was doing that kind of nonsense before it was cool, going all the way back to 2016′s Final Deletion in TNA and 2018′s Ultimate Deletion in WWE.  (How many deletions can one guy have?)
Everybody knows Hardy and Guevara have had a string of bad luck in their feud, with blowoff matches getting cut short or botched spots leaving Matt injured.  They were supposed to settle things once and for all on September 5, but that turned into a trainwreck so I guess they decided to call a mulligan on that.  The best thing you can say about this match is that, because it’s pre-taped, you can be assured that if anyone got severely hurt it would already be in the news, which makes it easier to watch.
I can’t remember Matt ever losing a mini-movie match, and I don’t think he’ll lose this one either.  Even if I’m not sure how one wins an elite deletion.
Orange Cassidy vs. John Silver - After going 2-1 with Chris Jericho, Cassidy made three unsuccessful attempts to win the TNT title, so he really needs to regain some momentum with a win.  Silver is a prelim guy, so he should be perfect to put Orange over...except there’s a lot of buzz around Silver lately, which is probably what got him booked for this show.  I don’t think Silver can win here, but watch for them to do some stuff to let him look good on his way to doing the job.
Serena Deeb vs. Allysin Kay -  This has been announced for the pre-show.  Deeb is defending the NWA women’s world title, as part of an ongoing collaboration between the NWA and AEW.  What makes this unusual is that Deeb recently signed with AEW, and Kay recently announced her NWA contract has expired, so no matter who wins the belt will be in the hands of an outsider.  I expect this is something of an AEW tryout match for Kay, and if so I doubt she would win here, but I’m rooting for her to do well because the women’s division can use all the help it can get.  I think Deeb retains, although I have no idea what that means for the future of the NWA women’s division.
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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years
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Eddie, The Patient Chapter 3     (A Reddie Fanfiction)
Link to Chapter 1
Link to Chapter 2
“It’s an improv line ‘cause the first time I ever used ‘I forgot the joke’ well, you see, I actually forgot the joke and to save myself I said that I was kidding and kept going with my routine! Some audience members gave me a hard time, but it turns out that I fooled them and then they actually wrote to me apologizing!”
“That’s a funny story, Mr. Tozier,” the host laughed with him. Then she turned and looked into the camera. “We’re going to take a break now, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll be back with a Day in the Life of Comedians.”
Standing up, and taking a breath, Richie stepped away from the set. No matter what, all those studio lights felt like a thousand degrees! Richie shook hands with his contender, Jack. Tonight they’d be battling off left and right with jokes. And this show interview they were filming would air in a week or so.
“Great job, Rich!” His manager, Steve gave him a pat on the back. “Except, I thought we were talking about not bringing that story up.”
Richie rolled his eyes. “So, what’s it gonna do? I’m just trying to show the real me!”
“Yes, and I agree, but I’m afraid that sharing the ‘I forgot the joke’ story could mean that you stumble your routines. You want big audiences out there don’t you, Rich?”
“Steve, just let me handle things, please? Remember what I said? And writing some of my own material has been working!” Richie walked off in a huff. Grabbing a glass of water that a stagehand offered to him, Richie walked outside for some needed air, and to wipe to the sweat off.
Ever since he told his boss that he was going to start writing his own material for shows, he felt as if his career was going in a better direction than it ever was. Eddie was right. He just needed that extra ounce of confidence that he lost. 
Thinking ahead to tonight, the crowd was still building up. Not only was he doing the comedy show with Jack, but another comedian who has been all around the world with her act. And she even called out Richie once! Oh, time for some good old revenge burn.
Feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket, Richie could only guess that it was Steve calling him back to rehearsal. Couldn’t he get a moment’s peace?
But it wasn’t Steve.
No name. Just numbers. But it was coming from right here in L.A.
Gulping, Richie flashed back to the moment where he got the call from Mike Hanlon. The call that changed his life making him step back into the nightmare from his childhood. Then again, he had to admit, that the battle changed everything for the better. 
Feeling his heart pounding, and his stomach nervously grumbled from his nerves, Richie took a deep breath. This always happened to him when a wrong number called. If it was a wrong number. 
Taking a deep breath, Richie answered the call. “H-Hello?”
“Hello, is this Mr. Richard Tozier?” A woman asked him. 
What was this, a prank call? Nobody ever called him by his full name. “Uh, yeah, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier at your service!” Richie went with his usual intro to break some of his lingering nerves.
“Yes, hello, this is Ruth Alliston, the principal of Hathaway Middle School,” the woman’s voice said. “I’m calling to inform you that your husband is sick and I was wondering if you could come and take him home. I tried calling a couple of your mutual friends, but I couldn’t get a hold of them.”
His heart throbbing, Richie grasped the railing holding himself up. He accidentally knocked the glass of water off the railing, sending it smashing to the ground. Not once since Eddie started his teaching job did they ever call him for something like this. Did he just hear her right? Eddie. His Eddie? Sick? 
“Wait, wait, hold on! What do you mean you called other mutuals? You’re supposed to call me first, damn it!” Richie snapped at her, clutching at his phone.
The woman sighed, obviously sounding frazzled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tozier, but Eddie gave my specific instruction not to call you. Once I couldn’t get a hold of um,” she paused, turning pages. “Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough I knew that I had no choice but to call you. Oh, he’s very sick with a fever of over one hundred and needs to be taken home.”
Clawing at his hair, Richie mumbled to himself pacing the fire escape. Why was he always out here when got news like this? Of course. Of course, Eddie had to act like he was fine. You should have said something, man! “Um, yeah, you got it. I’ll be there.”
“Oh, wonderful, thank you, sir.” Mrs. Alliston sounded relieved. “Not to worry, he’s asleep right now. The worst seems to have passed.”
The worst? “Thanks, see you later,” Richie said as smoothly as he could. Hanging up the phone, Richie hurried back inside. Goddamn it, Eddie! Of course, you had to act like you were fine! You should have said something, man!
“Rich, where have you been? We’re going to start up again in five minutes!” Steve chewed him out, placing a hand on his shoulder, as he tried to keep up with Richie’s fast pace.
“Steve, I have to go!” Richie protested, hurriedly walking to the elevator.
“Go? Go where? We’re in the middle of taping an interview!” Steve argued with him, gesturing to the set. Jack overheard the situation and turned and looked at them in worry.
“It’s an emergency!” Richie said, pressing the elevator button furiously. 
“Can you tell me? Are we going to have to reschedule everything?” Steve prodded him.
Richie nodded feverishly, watching the floor numbers change. Why were elevators so slow when you needed them? “Yeah, let’s do that. I need to get over to Hathaway Middle School now! Eddie is sick!”
For a moment, Steve didn’t say anything. He noticed that Steve wasn’t that fond of Eddie whenever he was around. Still, he did his best to make polite conversation. “Right. How are you going to get over there? Barry is not available for the rest of the morning.”
Shit! How else was he supposed to get over to the school? It would take at least an hour on foot. And he had to figure out a way to get Eddie home without making him sicker. 
“Can I call you a taxi?” Steve suggested.
Of course! He felt so out of it that he couldn’t think straight. That was when the elevator door opened. “Yeah, thanks!” Richie smiled, despite himself, as he entered the crowded elevator. Ugh, somebody had stinky pits today.
“Rich, call me with an update! You should be back here by 5:00 tonight!” Steve called out to him just as the elevator doors closed. 
Waiting out by the curb and listening to the busy traffic, Richie took a moment to breathe and get his thoughts together. How could he let something like this happen? Besides the distraction with the car, did he really let the excitement of work get in the way? That was so stupid of him! Eddie was way more important! 
He knew something wasn’t right about Eddie’s behavior, but what did he do? Drive off. How could he ever ignore him like that? How could he... forget to think about Eddie? No wonder Eddie was acting so strangely. The uneaten bowl of cereal, barely saying a word and struggling to do a simple task like walking.
Smiling, Richie couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Eddie had always been an extreme germaphobe. Back when they were students, Eddie washed down every desk before sitting in them during the flu season.
Richie even reminded him about kids getting sick easily when he was studying to become a teacher. Eddie rubbed it off like it was nothing, saying that he was full of bologna. After the first three weeks of teaching, Eddie was complaining about the number of students who were sick with colds. It was funny. But, not now.
He was just hoping that this wasn’t too serious. Whenever Eddie was sick, or he himself, they’d snuggle together. Eddie was always so doting, dropping everything to take care of him. That was the best. He could only guess how much of a helicopter husband he must have been when Eddie had the slightest cold. It was out of love anyway.
In that instant, Richie felt a sting in his gut, realizing how little time they’d spent together as of recently. When was the last time they took a walk around the neighborhood? Or went out for a drink? Or even just stayed inside watching TV? It felt like the only time they ever spent together was cuddling up when they went to bed at night. Only they were asleep. 
Whenever he had nights off, they went to the movies. Sometimes they were the loudest in the theater because they loved to laugh and argue over their own commentary of the film.
And to think we used to spend a few times a week making love... when was the last time we did that?!
It was tough working around his schedule. He worked at night while Eddie worked during the day. Even weekends didn’t supply them with enough time together. Now, he felt lucky that he wasn’t away on a trip. Then what would have happened? 
Richie slid a hand over his face, looking up towards the peaceful sky. To think it wasn’t even noon. Oh well, there was no used dwelling over it all now. Eddie needed him.
Finally, the taxi pulled up and Richie got into the back seat in a hurry.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” The cab driver roared with a smile. His little mustache creased along his upper lip whenever he smiled. “I never thought I’d be hauling Richie Tozier in the back of my taxi! I have to get a picture and frame it!”
“Yeah, later, man! I need to get over to Hathaway Middle school, now!” Richie ordered, waving him off.
“Sure, do the kids want your autograph?” The driver pulled out into the road. Traffic was bad already. Cars honking. The light turning red at the wrong moment. It was never like this. 
Richie nervously sat forward, thumping his hand on the seat, unable to relax. “I wish! It’s my h-husband, Eddie. He’s sick. And guess whose car decided to that it didn’t wanna work properly today? Did you guess me? Good for you, you won a ride with me!” Richie joked, pointing at himself.
Of course, he had to stumble over that word. He still wasn’t used to being out to the public, having ignored and feared to be gay for decades. His announcement had some negative feedback, but he felt happier than he ever did before. Especially with Eddie.
“Oh man, poor guy. The flu is terrible at this time of year. You’re a good husband, you know that?” The cab driver complimented turning back to look at him. “I remember when I showed up to work sick once, I worked in an auto place, and then my wife showed up telling me, ‘I told you so!’”
Richie laughed along, half embarrassed. He took a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah, I’m the man, what can I say?”
The cab driver laughed heartily. “I’ll have you over to the school as soon as I can.”
While making small conversation and jokes with the cab driver, whose name was Harry, the ride felt long. Too long.  Why were there so many red lights today? And did people forget how to cross the street? Richie wanted to beep the horn to get this guy who was staring at his cell phone to pay attention.
Guilt hammered itself into Richie’s heart. Looking out at the passing city, Richie tried to take his mind off everything, to no avail. Don’t worry, Eds, I’m on my way.
And finally, the cab showed up at the school. Before the car even stopped, Richie threw open the door, running out. “Hey, thanks, sorry for being impatient. I wish I could give you that picture, but I don’t have time!”
“Do you want me to wait for you?” The cab driver asked him.
Richie blinked, turning back in his tracks. “Uh... I could be a while.”
“I’m used to waiting,” he said sincerely. “Don’t you think it’ll be tough trying to get another taxi? It’ll be the lunch run in a bit.”
That’s right! Guess he never turned his brain on this morning. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll be right back!” Richie said as he flung up the staircase to the school like a rabbit.
Entering the school, Richie hadn’t roamed school hallways since he graduated from high school. Richie cringed at the thought of being back in another middle school. If it weren’t for his friends, he would never have gotten through school. He bet his dad that he could get a career out of being a comedian without going to college. Richie was still swimming in that money.
Finding the office, the instant the secretary noticed him, she almost fell out of her seat, adjusting her eyeglasses. “Richie Tozier! I was not expecting you today! My son is a big fan!” she chirped as her cheeks grew red. 
Richie smirked, winking at her, obviously enjoying the attention. Still, he had to stay focused. “Wish I could be here for better circumstances. I need to take Eddie home.”
The secretary’s face immediately softened, cracking into a heartbreaking sad frown. “Oh, the poor guy. He looked as pale as a ghost when Mrs. Alliston brought him back here. I sure hope he is going to be okay. He is a sweetheart.”
Although his heart cracked at the awful thought of Eddie’s condition, Richie leaned against the counter trying to make the secretary smiled. “You got that right! Except when he’s cranky. Some mornings he is a real joy to wake up to because he tells me that I snore!”
Laughing, the secretary paged the principal. “Okay, I’ll send him back. Go on, Ruth is waiting for you,” she said getting up from her seat and opening the door to the main office.
Richie went on his way, winking at her again. “Thanks. Oh, and I own you an autograph!”
Walking into the back office, Richie met the principal, who stepped out from her office with a wide grin happily shaking his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Tozier. Eddie has talked a lot about you.”
“Oh yeah, I hope it’s all good things!” Richie teased.
“Don’t worry. He loves talking about you. Don’t tell him I said this but sometimes the way he talks about you makes me think of him like a school girl! It’s quite amusing!”
Crossing his fingers, Richie was just seconds away from bursting into laughter. Definitely worth a save for teasing which was basically all they did. “So, where is he anyway?”
Her face turned back to worry, leading Richie down a small corridor of the office. “He’s asleep in the nurse’s office. The poor thing, when I went to put his belongings on a chair next to the bed he didn’t even stir.”
Guilt-ridden, Richie almost stumbled into a wall. “Jeez...”
“He’s in here,” she said indicating to a room with the lights out. “His belongings are on a chair next to the bed. If I’m right, the poor dear is still asleep. You’re going to have to wake him up.”
Richie waved it off like it was nothing. “Even if I tiptoe it wakes him up and he lectures me!” He snickered.
Mrs. Alliston laughed as she walked away. “Eddie is right. You are a card!”
“A real comedian, I am!” Richie joked as his hand fell on the door. He gingerly turned the knob and slowly opened the door. The room was dark, with the only source of light protruding from the covered windows. Once his eyes adjusted, it took a moment to find the bed. Once he did, Richie came across the small, thin form of his husband sleeping soundly on the nurse’s bed in the corner of the room, with a trash can pulled up near the bed. 
Feeling his heart drop into his stomach, his legs shaking, Richie exhaled and came into the room, closing the door just a smidge. Sure enough, Eddie was fast asleep, hardly making a noise. If it weren’t for the minute rise and fall from his chest, Eddie would have looked...
No... he couldn’t think that.
Richie quietly walked into the room, and slowly sat down on the bad. Eddie hardly stirred, sleeping peacefully. For a little bit, Richie sat there, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, letting him sleep a few more minutes. That gave him the time to study how sick he was. Even in this dim lighting, he could tell how sickly pale Eddie was.
For a moment he thought that he was back in the hospital, holding Eddie’s frail hand when the doctors notified them how they weren’t sure if Eddie would make it through the night. But, Eddie showed who was stronger.
Thinking back to the call, the realization that Eddie was sick and the fact that he didn’t even want to call him first Richie’s grip tightened. Richie couldn’t blame him. Eddie felt himself like he was a burden due to the years of being berated about every little thing he did. 
Oh, course he wouldn’t tell me. He thinks that vain in my head would pop!
Leaning down, Richie kissed his forehead, tasting the sweat rolling down his warm pale face. The worry and guilt set in even further, causing his grip to tighten. He had to get Eddie home now.
“And you thought I wouldn’t come help you, huh? Man, you’re crazy!” he whispered in a loud voice to his sleeping husband as he prepared to wake him up.
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asacove · 4 years
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Onya Icha Ndambi from Cameroon
Onya Icha Ndambi from Cameroon; Reasons Soccer Is the Best Sport in the World
Onya Icha Ndambi from  Cameroon. He's a professional blogger. Onya Icha Ndambi manages the main websites in Cameroon. Onya Icha Ndambi
is a project to collate all the best Man Utd blogs and news channels together in one place. So there’s no need to search around for the best news and opinions about United, you can find them all here.
   Reasons Soccer Is the Best Sport in the World
The USA and Australia are probably the only countries left in the world where soccer is not one of the top-three most popular sports. As an Australian now living in the U.S., this has proven to be rather vexing over the years. It wouldn't be a stretch to go all John Lennon and say that soccer is more popular than God. But soccer is not just the most popular sport in the world, it is also the best. Like, objectively. Here's why. Onya Icha Ndambi
Simplicity
A few games are so overwhelmingly complex that it can take long periods of patient examination (or patient clarification from a specialist) to get your head
around it. I love NFL, baseball and cricket, however I'll likewise acknowledge that they are somewhat substantial on language, subtlety and profoundly specialized technique that can discourage the easygoing watcher.
Hello even the NFL officials themselves get somewhat befuddled here and there (see appended video).
Soccer, then again, is the sort of game you can get your head around after around two minutes of viewing. When you've made sense of the offside standard, that is about it.
   Consistency in the Rules  
A game has central issues if specialists need to change some part of the guidelines before each new season. The NFL is a steady offender, as of late wiping out its profoundly disliked fold rule while additionally every now and again adjusting rules overseeing physical contact (presumably to maintain a strategic distance from a claim one day).
 Rugby is much more terrible.
 Since the time the definition of the "back-pass" rule in 1992, soccer hasn't required any progressions to its standards, notwithstanding what a few numbskulls guarantee.
  No Timeouts
 Watch the most recent five minutes of any b-ball game and you realize that the break thing has turned crazy. It takes what feels like hours to overcome with the two groups freezing the clock at whatever point they have their hands ready, or deliberately fouling their rivals when they don't.
Onya Icha Ndambi
  Notwithstanding dealing with the clock, breaks are additionally over and over again used to end the energy of your rivals, rather than compelling groups to happen of their funk. They're likewise used to give proficient competitors a rest that they truly shouldn't require in any case. Goodness, and they're likewise only a reason for sponsors to interfere with games all the more much of the time. Give me the free-streaming steadiness of soccer quickly
  Poor Countries Beat Rich Countries  
I despite everything left the Ghana versus USA round of 16 games at the 2010 World Cup and reciting with a portion of the nearby fans "Bye, bye, USA!" It struck me that just in soccer could a geopolitical and financial powerhouse like the USA be overwhelmed by an African country with very nearly 300 million less individuals and around 80 spots beneath it on the GDP list.
  It Will Never Have a PED Problem  
The Tour de France might be a wonder of physical continuance, however do any of us despite everything trust it any longer? So as well, it's difficult to appreciate a superhuman exhibition in numerous games in the Olympics without that bothering thought in the rear of one's head: "I wonder in the event that they're on something..."
 There is no medication for expertise and judgment under tension, the twin precepts of any soccer champion. Maradona and Pele never had an indicator close to their name; rather we can simply kick back and make the most of their ability without stressing whether they were getting an unjustifiable substance advantage (in light of the fact that Maradona just took drugs for no particular reason Onya Icha Ndambi
   Internationality
200 and three countries endeavored capability for the 2014 World Cup. There are less nations in the United Nations. Soccer is played completely all over the place; it crosses each national partition.
 Is there another group activity wherein in excess of 20 countries are reliably serious? More than 10? Most likely not, which is the reason sports like the Rugby World Cup wind up being somewhat of a joke, as countries like Namibia scratch together a group of 15 individuals to get beat 142-0 by  Australi
  Magnificence
Soccer possesses a great deal of it. There is the undeniable magnificence of an all around planned bike kick, the jumping header, the 30-yard screamer. However, for the idealists, Spain's "tiki-taka" has been an update that dynamic cooperation can be as delightful as individual trapeze artistry. It genuinely is "the wonderful game."
  Absence of Formula or Preordained Structure
While each game beginnings with two groups on either side of a line, starting there on it is a free-streaming meeting of capriciousness. Aside from set pieces, there's almost no predetermined structure.
 Indeed, even the development of each group is not entirely clear from mentors, rather than fitting a set format. While NFL mentors must be aware of not handling an "unlawful development," their partners in soccer are allowed to pick a 4-4-2, a 3-5-2, or even a 9-0-1 in the event that they're playing Brazil.
  There Is No Physical Size Advantage
 The best player on the planet right currently is a weedy Argentinean remaining at 5'7". Aside from goalkeeping (where you'll in any event need to stand 6' to make it to the top), all men are made equivalent with regards to soccer. There are a few games where you'll never make it to the top without inclined hereditary focal points in regards to measure; soccer isn't one of them.
  You Can Play Anywhere with Minimal Equipment
 Have a go at mounting a vocation in any winter sport without forking out a weighty wad of money only for hardware.
 In soccer, all you need is a ball (or any round article will do). In addition to the fact that this gives less fortunate countries all the more a possibility, some would contend it gives them a favorable position, with numerous a lifelong fashioned from the crude play of city ghettos.
  Scale
In each nation, a group. What's more, inside those alliances, once in a while a few divisions (the Estonian third division, as should be obvious from the video, is as yet paid attention to very by a few). Furthermore, a huge number of beginner rivalries.
 Soccer is played at each expertise level, age and sexual orientation (that's right, them two). In each nation on Earth. That is scale.
  Physicality
Proficient soccer players are fit as a fiddle, because of a game which goes on for an hour and a half (and once in a while two hours) with no breaks. But at the same time it's the scope of wellness they need to show: cardiovascular perseverance, solid continuance, quality, adaptability, speed. While wellness needs can change from position to position, reasonably you have to have them all.
 It's hard not to wonder about the physicality of a competitor who should have the option to run for two hours, wrestle an adversary at a corner and ace the bike kick week in, week out.
  Energy
This is a twofold edged blade, obviously. For each brilliant festival of being a fan or national pride, there is frequently an appalling end product which shows through group viciousness.
Onya Icha Ndambi
Be that as it may, enthusiasm produces energy and shading, as a matter of first importance. Soccer fans care more than aficionados of whatever other game, which delivers brilliantly serious live encounters. In basically some other game, the fans can be exceptional, however nobody's returning home also crushed if their group loses.
  Strength
Some physical games definite a silly physical cost for their members, both by the harshness of the play and the way of life of playing through injury.
 While a few yippees may contend those games are consequently prevalent, it's a disgrace that we can just appreciate a few competitors at their top for such a brief timeframe before injury dulls their capacities.
 Then, some soccer stars don't arrive at their top until their 30s and can keep playing at the top level well past that. Furthermore, at the novice level, you can keep playing the game you love a ways into your sundown years.
  Soccer Players Are Better Looking
Shallow, I know, however there's small denying that David Beckham and Alex Morgan wouldn't have made numerous magazine covers in the event that they were proficient fighters, making efforts to their gigantic cheekbones all the time.
 Also, soccer players grow more appealing physical make-ups than most different games due to the requirement for balanced wellness, while any semblance of Prince Fielder can stack on the pounds since they don't should be trim to do what they do.
1 note · View note
samantha388-blog · 4 years
Text
Onya Icha Ndambi from Cameroon
Onya Icha Ndambi from Cameroon; Reasons Soccer Is the Best Sport in the World
Onya Icha Ndambi from  Cameroon. He's a professional blogger. Onya Icha Ndambi manages the main websites in Cameroon. Onya Icha Ndambi
is a project to collate all the best Man Utd blogs and news channels together in one place. So there’s no need to search around for the best news and opinions about United, you can find them all here.
   Reasons Soccer Is the Best Sport in the World
The USA and Australia are probably the only countries left in the world where soccer is not one of the top-three most popular sports. As an Australian now living in the U.S., this has proven to be rather vexing over the years. It wouldn't be a stretch to go all John Lennon and say that soccer is more popular than God. But soccer is not just the most popular sport in the world, it is also the best. Like, objectively. Here's why. Onya Icha Ndambi
Simplicity
A few games are so overwhelmingly complex that it can take long periods of patient examination (or patient clarification from a specialist) to get your head
around it. I love NFL, baseball and cricket, however I'll likewise acknowledge that they are somewhat substantial on language, subtlety and profoundly specialized technique that can discourage the easygoing watcher.
Hello even the NFL officials themselves get somewhat befuddled here and there (see appended video). 
Soccer, then again, is the sort of game you can get your head around after around two minutes of viewing. When you've made sense of the offside standard, that is about it.
   Consistency in the Rules  
A game has central issues if specialists need to change some part of the guidelines before each new season. The NFL is a steady offender, as of late wiping out its profoundly disliked fold rule while additionally every now and again adjusting rules overseeing physical contact (presumably to maintain a strategic distance from a claim one day).
 Rugby is much more terrible.
 Since the time the definition of the "back-pass" rule in 1992, soccer hasn't required any progressions to its standards, notwithstanding what a few numbskulls guarantee.
  No Timeouts
 Watch the most recent five minutes of any b-ball game and you realize that the break thing has turned crazy. It takes what feels like hours to overcome with the two groups freezing the clock at whatever point they have their hands ready, or deliberately fouling their rivals when they don't.
Onya Icha Ndambi
  Notwithstanding dealing with the clock, breaks are additionally over and over again used to end the energy of your rivals, rather than compelling groups to happen of their funk. They're likewise used to give proficient competitors a rest that they truly shouldn't require in any case. Goodness, and they're likewise only a reason for sponsors to interfere with games all the more much of the time. Give me the free-streaming steadiness of soccer quickly
  Poor Countries Beat Rich Countries  
I despite everything left the Ghana versus USA round of 16 games at the 2010 World Cup and reciting with a portion of the nearby fans "Bye, bye, USA!" It struck me that just in soccer could a geopolitical and financial powerhouse like the USA be overwhelmed by an African country with very nearly 300 million less individuals and around 80 spots beneath it on the GDP list.
  It Will Never Have a PED Problem  
The Tour de France might be a wonder of physical continuance, however do any of us despite everything trust it any longer? So as well, it's difficult to appreciate a superhuman exhibition in numerous games in the Olympics without that bothering thought in the rear of one's head: "I wonder in the event that they're on something..."
 There is no medication for expertise and judgment under tension, the twin precepts of any soccer champion. Maradona and Pele never had an indicator close to their name; rather we can simply kick back and make the most of their ability without stressing whether they were getting an unjustifiable substance advantage (in light of the fact that Maradona just took drugs for no particular reason Onya Icha Ndambi
   Internationality
200 and three countries endeavored capability for the 2014 World Cup. There are less nations in the United Nations. Soccer is played completely all over the place; it crosses each national partition.
 Is there another group activity wherein in excess of 20 countries are reliably serious? More than 10? Most likely not, which is the reason sports like the Rugby World Cup wind up being somewhat of a joke, as countries like Namibia scratch together a group of 15 individuals to get beat 142-0 by  Australi
  Magnificence
Soccer possesses a great deal of it. There is the undeniable magnificence of an all around planned bike kick, the jumping header, the 30-yard screamer. However, for the idealists, Spain's "tiki-taka" has been an update that dynamic cooperation can be as delightful as individual trapeze artistry. It genuinely is "the wonderful game."
  Absence of Formula or Preordained Structure
While each game beginnings with two groups on either side of a line, starting there on it is a free-streaming meeting of capriciousness. Aside from set pieces, there's almost no predetermined structure.
 Indeed, even the development of each group is not entirely clear from mentors, rather than fitting a set format. While NFL mentors must be aware of not handling an "unlawful development," their partners in soccer are allowed to pick a 4-4-2, a 3-5-2, or even a 9-0-1 in the event that they're playing Brazil.
  There Is No Physical Size Advantage
 The best player on the planet right currently is a weedy Argentinean remaining at 5'7". Aside from goalkeeping (where you'll in any event need to stand 6' to make it to the top), all men are made equivalent with regards to soccer. There are a few games where you'll never make it to the top without inclined hereditary focal points in regards to measure; soccer isn't one of them.
  You Can Play Anywhere with Minimal Equipment
 Have a go at mounting a vocation in any winter sport without forking out a weighty wad of money only for hardware.
 In soccer, all you need is a ball (or any round article will do). In addition to the fact that this gives less fortunate countries all the more a possibility, some would contend it gives them a favorable position, with numerous a lifelong fashioned from the crude play of city ghettos.
  Scale
In each nation, a group. What's more, inside those alliances, once in a while a few divisions (the Estonian third division, as should be obvious from the video, is as yet paid attention to very by a few). Furthermore, a huge number of beginner rivalries.
 Soccer is played at each expertise level, age and sexual orientation (that's right, them two). In each nation on Earth. That is scale.
  Physicality
Proficient soccer players are fit as a fiddle, because of a game which goes on for an hour and a half (and once in a while two hours) with no breaks. But at the same time it's the scope of wellness they need to show: cardiovascular perseverance, solid continuance, quality, adaptability, speed. While wellness needs can change from position to position, reasonably you have to have them all.
 It's hard not to wonder about the physicality of a competitor who should have the option to run for two hours, wrestle an adversary at a corner and ace the bike kick week in, week out.
  Energy
This is a twofold edged blade, obviously. For each brilliant festival of being a fan or national pride, there is frequently an appalling end product which shows through group viciousness.
Onya Icha Ndambi
Be that as it may, enthusiasm produces energy and shading, as a matter of first importance. Soccer fans care more than aficionados of whatever other game, which delivers brilliantly serious live encounters. In basically some other game, the fans can be exceptional, however nobody's returning home also crushed if their group loses.
  Strength
Some physical games definite a silly physical cost for their members, both by the harshness of the play and the way of life of playing through injury.
 While a few yippees may contend those games are consequently prevalent, it's a disgrace that we can just appreciate a few competitors at their top for such a brief timeframe before injury dulls their capacities.
 Then, some soccer stars don't arrive at their top until their 30s and can keep playing at the top level well past that. Furthermore, at the novice level, you can keep playing the game you love a ways into your sundown years.
  Soccer Players Are Better Looking
Shallow, I know, however there's small denying that David Beckham and Alex Morgan wouldn't have made numerous magazine covers in the event that they were proficient fighters, making efforts to their gigantic cheekbones all the time.
 Also, soccer players grow more appealing physical make-ups than most different games due to the requirement for balanced wellness, while any semblance of Prince Fielder can stack on the pounds since they don't should be trim to do what they do.
1 note · View note
hazyheel · 5 years
Text
WWE Monday Night Raw 5/27/19 Review
We started with a touching tribute to soldiers on Memorial Day, and the first arena shot had a “We remember the fallen” sign, and a huge USA chant from the crowd. Really touching.
Kofi Kingston was out first, and they recapped his attack from Ziggler last week. He cut a promo about how Kevin Owens re injured Big E (he was never healed really), and then Ziggler attacked him. Kingston wasn’t finished, but he was here for Lesnar. He wanted to fight Lesnar, and asked him to cash in tonight, but was met with Seth Rollins. He said the same thing, and asked Brock to announce who he would cash in on. Brock actually came out, with a boombox? Idk, his briefcase had speakers. That might be cool if it was Kofi, but Lesnar should be intimidating. They played both of the champions music as Lesnar kinda looked at them. Seth actually walked out during that part. Heyman said that Rollins walked out on the Brock Party, which was funny. He then said that they wouldn’t announce who they would cash in on. As Lesnar left, Ziggler ran out and attacked once again. 
Grade: D+. I don’t care about this, I really don’t. Brock looked kinda dumb, and I am bummed out that they wasted the Money in the Bank briefcase as a boombox gimmick on Brock. That is clever. I don’t want him to say who he will cash in on, that ruins the fun of it. I just don’t care.
Ziggler hit a zig zag on the steel, and was gonna beat him with a chair, but Xavier Woods ran out for the save. Refs were escorting Kingston away, and Ziggler attacked Woods and they brawled on the ramp. The fought around the fans, even hitting a camera guy with a garbage can on accident. Ziggler beat Woods with a chair for quite a while, and was gonna injured the neck with a chair, but Kingston ran back out, so Ziggler retreated, and then cut a promo. He just told Kingston to celebrate for the next 11 days, because he has been a great champion, and Ziggler will take it from him, because it always should have been his. He said that he knew how good Kingston was, but it doesn’t matter, because it will finally be his time at Super Showdown. He sounded crazy, it was awesome. 
Grade: B. This was a much better opening segment. It didn’t feel filler (although that brawl was long for a reason), it didn’t feel like a normal Raw opening by being a 20 minute promo to set up a match, it was just a crazy brawl. They hyped up the WWE Championship match for Super Showdown, and the promo was really good. I like this Ziggler, and I don’t know what they will do with him after the show next Friday, but i hope he is still used. 
Backstage, The Usos were having a Memorial Day cookout. They wished Nattie a happy birthday. They said that the Revival was the only team not invited. Then they yelled a bit and continued. I wasn’t sure why they did this until I noticed that Drake Maverick had some R-Truth wanted posters. I think I see where this is headed. 
Backstage, Charly interviewed Shane McMahon about a match that he had later tonight. He didn’t really say anything about it, and walked to the ring with McIntyre, who deserves more than Shane’s heavy. 
Shane then went out, cut a promo about respect, and how Roman Reigns didn’t understand it. Cuz he beat up Vince. They did the whole “attacking the father” thing, which is so on the nose. He said that Reigns was disrespecting the Samoan wrestling family, the Anoa’i’s. I think I spelled that right. Shane said that he’d fight one of the members of that family. I guess it was Lance Anoa’i, who I’d never heard of, so I don’t know if he is really a wrestler, or related to Roman. McIntyre beat the crap out of him, and he could sell. Shane then told them to ring the bell. There was a shocking amount of back and forth in this match, but Shane won mercifully with a triangle. After the bell, they lazily continued to beat him up while Shane ran his mouth. Reigns then ran out, took McIntyre down with one superman punch, and almost had a spear for Shane, but McIntyre pulled him away, and they ran backstage.
Grade: F. Yeah, the best part of this match was a kick that Lance threw, so that should explain how bad this was. The whole “embarassing his family” thing is a clever angle, but Shane really wouldn’t shut up this entire time, and it really ruined it. This may have been more entertaining if there was more energy, and Shane just stopped cutting a promo as he beat Lance up. This was very poor execution to a mediocre idea. Good stuff to Lance though, he held his own and managed to be a likable face in an awful position. 
Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman came out again. Heyman said that Lesnar was gonna cash in right now, so Rollins came out. Rollins screamed at Lesnar for not caring about the championship and said that he was a joke. Lesnar shut up after that. Rollins tore him to the ground and called him a coward. Rollins told him to cash it in. Heyman then read the contract aloud, but Lesnar stopped him dead in his tracks when he said that Lesnar had a year to cash in. I guess lesnar didn’t know that. Lesnar told Rollins to screw himself, and left. Ugh
Grade: D-. Okay, so slightly better than the segment before, because Rollins actually had a good promo. But this makes Lesnar look stupid, and is a stupid segment. I’m glad that they didn’t announce anything, but why did Lesnar not know the stipulations of the briefcase? Rollins cashed in on him in 2015, you’d think that he may have cared a bit when he was the champion. Lesnar should definitely know. And this was the second time in one episode that they, for lack of a better term, cucked us for a cash in, and not in the fun way that it usually happens. I hate Lesnar. But again, Rollins was good. It would probably rank quite a bit higher if I didn’t hate this so much.
As this was all ending, R-Truth and Carmella came bolting through with the 24/7 championship, with like 7 guys coming at him. Cedric Alexander missed a splash and took out Eric Young and someone else. Truth also dodged a charging Karl Anderson, and he just nailed the barricade. I like this, it is just fun to have little stupid bits like this to break stuff up. 
Backstage, Charly talked to AJ Styles about why he wouldn’t be in a #1 contenders fatal 4-way elimination match for the Universal Championship. Styles said that he hurt himself at Money in the Bank. He was talking, and Baron Corbin attacked him. So this is where things were going last week.
Then we had a match between Becky Lynch and Nikki Cross against The IIconics. Cross was attacked by the heels for most of the match. At one point, Graves said that Lynch was busy, and Young asked how Graves knew her schedule, and he just said that he also worked there. Becky got the hot tag and beat everyone up. Becky had Royce locked in Disarmer while Cross attacked Cay on the outside, but Royce rolled her up for two. Lynch then hit the MANhandle slam, which was just an STO for the win. Lacey Evans then came out, and did nothing, just like the old days. But Cross had to hold Lynch back.
Grade: D+. I feel like I’m being pretty harsh now, but I don’t think this deserves more than this. The work was far below average, I have no clue why the IIconics lost, because Evans coming out at the end would have made much more sense as a distraction for Lynch, so that the IIconcis could beat up Cross. I don’t think the IIconics have won a match since the Raw after Mania. And now this random tag team has claim to a title shot, and I really think that they should win, because I have grown to hate the IIconics. Unless they are on commentary, that is fun.
Back at the barbecue, Tamina and Naomi were about to fight but then hugged. Weird face turn for Tamina. The Revival then showed up too, and they were being assholes. I guess Naomi invited them, because they need to settle their differences. What better place to do it than at the block party, she asked. In the ring, in a real feud, I thought. They acted like they would have fun, but they clearly wouldn’t, cuz of a very manly handshake that was dumb. 
Next up was Ricochet vs. Cesaro in a rematch from last week. Ricochet immediately had the advantage with a spike rana, and then a flip off Cesaro’s chest into an ensiguri (Ospreay style) and a suicide dive. Cesaro stretched out Ricochet’s back, and worked it over with throws and suplexes. Ricochet was able to fight him off, nearly hitting the 630, but Cesaro dodged and hit a huge European uppercut. At one point, Cesaro went for a powerbomb and Ricochet countered into a sunset flip. In the finish, Ricochet fell out of the ring, but was safe on his feet. Cesaro had his back to him, against the ropes, so Ricochet did a handstand on the apron and grabbed Cesaro’s head with his feet and pulled himself up for a spike Rana and the win.
Grade: B+. Finally, something good. I bumped the score up a grade because of the cool spot in the finish, but it was still a really fun match. These guys make magic together, and I hope they are given more time at some point to put on a really great match, because this is not even the best they can do. I like this mini feud. Match of the night.
The announcers said that next week, Rey Mysterio will have to relinquish his US Championship due to injury. That sucks. As they talked about it, Samoa Joe came out and cut a promo. He said that he will be waiting to take back his title.
At the block party, the announcers desperately tried to make a game of cornhole between The Usos and Revival seem intense. Maybe I had played cornhole too recently, but it is not an intense game. No one would crowd around a game of cornhole. That being said, it was funny to see everyone overacting. 
Members of the fatal 4-way elimination match said why they would win the match. Strowman’s was weird tho, cuz his music hit in the middle of his little promo, and he also threatened Bobby Lashley, then congratulated Miz on having another baby girl, and then threatened Baron Corbin, all in the same tone of voice. The heels immediately teamed up on Strowman, taking him out and then beating down the Miz. At one point, the heels double suplexed Strowman onto the stage. Lashley hit Miz with the delayed vertical suplex, but Miz kicked out. I guess that isn’t his finisher anymore. When Miz was attacking Lashley in the corner, he used running knees rather than dropkicks, which makes sense. At one point, Lashley avoided a shoulder tackle from Strowman, countering with a flying lariat. Strowman and Lashley brawled into the crowd, so Miz and Corbin brawled a bit. They beat each other up a bit, before Corbin hit the end of Days and eliminated the Miz. Now, here is the stupid part: that was the end of the match. If you are confused because there wasn’t any mention of other eliminations, thats becasue this was the first, and it ended the match. I guess Strowman and Lashley just left? What the hell?!? Why not just say that it is a normal match? Why is this so hard?
Grade: C-. There were some fun spots, but the booking was atrocious. Why were Strowman and Lashley in this match if they were already announced for Super Showdown? Couldn’t they have waited to book that match until this one was over with? Why was Miz in this match? He is a Smackdown guy, and he lost at Money in the Bank. Corbin was the only person who was even qualified to win, so he kinda had to go over here. This is just so dumb. Why does this company not care about their own product enough to look at their own rules?
More yelling about cornhole. Then R-Truth showed up, and the party devolved into lots of throwing food and rollups. No table spot, which I thought was a given in this kind of environment. Truth was able to get away. 
Grade for 24/7 stuff: C+. They almost had it right this week, with the wild stuff for the first 24/7 segment. But the block party thing didn’t have the fun little hardcore spots that I expected. Plus, all that is happening is rollups. Lets see some weapons and finishers in weird places. Someone should get hit by a car. Come ooooooooon.
And finally, the Firefly funhouse. One of the only things I look forward to about Raw. Bray said that the mask was called the fiend, and when he embraces that side of him, he can be anything he wants to be. That was in a sinister tone. Abbey the witch said that he was a psycho, and he did some wacky stuff to prove that he isn’t, and then she said “why won’t you let me rest,” which was super creepy and awesome. He said that he wouldn’t, and she said that she didn’t want to be stuck in limbo. So Wyatt did the limbo. 
Grade: B+. Creepy and awesome. I don’t think there is anything more to say.
Then we had a segment called electric chair, where Graves interviewed Sami Zayn, no holds barred style. The questions are apparently from the WWE Universe, and nothing is off limits, which is super untrue, in just about every way. Someone asked about his retirement date, so Zayn said that his parents must be brother and sister, cuz they are in Kansas. Someone else asked if he missed Becky Lynch from the Mixed Match challenge, and he just said she had a stupid question, and that her parents are bad. Someone asked how it felt when Strowman destroyed him, so he said that he wanted to kick the guys ass. The only reason that he wouldn’t beat him up, was because he would be tied up in legal troubles. He also said that that guy should be grateful for that not happening, because healthcare in america sucks. Another guy asked why he hasn’t won the Universal Championship, and he said that he could win it whenever he wanted. He insulted everyone for not asking good questions, like stuff about AEW, and the crowd popped. So thats why they did this segment, to pretend like they don’t give a damn about AEW. Of course they do, thats why they brought it up. Graves then tried to speak about the Universal Championship, but the crowd were still freaking out about AEW. Rollins came out to fight with him, and Zayn backed off. 
Grade: B-. Yeah, so the mention of AEW shows why they did this segment. But it was actually funny. Zayn is good at being an asshole to fans who can’t cut a promo like he can. It was clear that the last guy wanted to ask something better than he asked, because he cracked up and stopped. But it was during this segment that I found out why they changed the lighting during the third hour. It’s supposed to be a grittier part of the show. I guess that’s why there was a no DQ match last week, but saying AEW and having new lighting doesn’t make the show better. 
Then we had Rollins vs. Zayn. Zayn ran away for a bit, then they locked up. Rollins was in a pissy mood, and he attacked Zayn viciously. At one point, Rollins hurt his knee on a suicide dive, and that stopped him from delivering a buckle bomb to Zayn. Zayn hit a vicious DDT for a near fall. Zayn then targetted that knee. As Rollins went for a curb stomp, Zayn dodged it which hurt his leg more, and then he locked in a figure four. Seth fought out of it, and Rollins tried to hit a frog splash off of one leg, but Zayn got the knees up for a near fall. Rollins was able to get a curb stomp as Zayn entered the ring, but he couldn’t capitalize. Rollins just hit another one and won.
Grade: B. Good match, but it felt like just another Raw match. Plus, no way Zayn was winning this. 
Overall Grade: C.
Pros: Ziggler attack and promo; cesaro vs. ricochet; firefly funhouse; electric chair; main event
Cons: Lesnar being stupid 1; shane vs. lance; lesnar being stupid 2; lynch & cross vs. IIconics; #1 contendership
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twinfanfics · 6 years
Text
Taiyamaweek day 16: Trapped
I know i´m two days behind but wherever, like one hundred years ago i made sci-fy Taiyama AU for the DigimonOTP and i never finish it, so here are part number 2, please enjoy. 
Prop: Trapped 
Sumary: Yamato tought a bad brake up was the worst thing that could happen to him in his last year at the star academy, but he was wrong now he must join his brother, his best friend and his exboyfriend in a suicidal mision to an estrange planet.
You can read the first chapter right here 
And the second chapter after the cut! 
It was a long trip, fourteen hours at optimus speed, but the old piece of trash that the commander facilitated  never get to that, it was especially hard for the pilots, after 21 hours of fly booths of them were exhausted, so Yamato complete understand his brother relieve when a tiny little green spot appear on the screen.
“There it is, asteroid 54¡” Takeru yells almost with the voice of a child  “I mean..” he hesitate “we are near to the Target Captain” 
“Excellent!”  Taichi exclaim, and Yamato smile, the captain was as much as tired as the pilots but for a complete different reason, Taichi was  incapable of been quiet, with all certain he was impatient for jump into action, Yamato remember those longs afternoon beside him, the summer sun, the longs campings, the heat of his skin against him, the unfinished fights…
“That's weird” Sora interrupt his thoughts
“What?” He replied, happy to have something else to think about
“According to the info asteroid 54 is a desert planetoid, but our system register an entire ecosystem, is a green planet” she continuos
Taichi approach to the monitor “Are you sure this is the right planetoid?”
“Of course we are sure¡” Hikari yells offended
“ And even if is not”  Koushiro voice sound across the communicator “the transmissions become for this location”
“What do you think Yamato?” Every time Taichi call him by his first name Yamato gets an uncertain feelings, something between the necessity to run and the impulse to punch him on the face.
He knew Taichi was a born lider, he want to follow him, but he also wanna fight about every single ones of his decisions,
“We come ready for a mission on  a desert planet, it would be crazy go into an unknown ecosystem, whatsoever if there is life on asteroid 54 the probability of survival of the crew of Adventure 02 increase, is risky but…” Taichi smile with all his teeths, full of excitement
“ You hear it Mr Takahashi, prepare to arrive¡”
They land over a beautiful landscape, the air was warm and humid, it looks like a colorful  tropical jungle
“Well, we should bring a  botanic expert”  Taichi jokes touching the grand
“Actually…”  Mimi turn to him “i kind of  specialized on foreign  flora”
“I thought you two work on communications” he said
“We get the passanti on communication but  i'm actually tactical expert and Mimi knows about  plants” Sora speak  “but we fail the space test and get stuck on the communication tower since last semester”
“Well,  we are lucky then” Taichi stand up, holding his Captain hat “listen everybody, i'm gonna need all the crew on the bridge right now!”  only in a few minutes Joe and Koushiro arrive “What is the state of Adventure 01 Izzy? , come on, give me good news”
“The principal motor is relatively fine but it couldn't work on maximum capacity, if i could work on it, i could fix it on 6 maybe 5 hours, but i'm gonna need help for the rest of it, it was a rough landing” Hikari and Takeru protest to his comment  “and one of the propulsor get damage”
“It sound like a lot of work”Taichi said coming near to his little sister, the pilots look terrible “I want you to concentrate in the engineer, did you understand? Get the transmissions to the others”
“But… “
“ Nothing¡” He yells  “rest a few hours, eat something and come back to the engineer room, that's an order, if we need to leave this planet i want to have this space garbage ready”
Yamato was impress by Taichi command, usually he tend to be more tender, and not complete serious about anything, the leadership suit him.  
“I Understand Captain” Koushiro grumble and Yamato notice how pleased  was Taichi with his new title
“Takeru and Hikari” Taichi continues “great work you two, now go to your chambers and rest, the explorers would take this mission since here”  They don't even blink and accept the orders “Tachikawa, Kido, Ishida and I'll form the explorer team” he turn to Mimi “ Tachikawa did you think you could track the signal?
“If we link the transmission to the GPS it would work” Sora talks “ but i have more experience that Mimi on the field, i should be the one who…”
“You have tactical training right?” Taichi interrupt and She nod “i don't wanna left our only engineer and ours pilots alone on an unknown planet, you are the  security chief  now, beside i'm sure that Miss Tachikawa knowledge of botanic would be useful on the field”
Yamato didn't believe Sora listen anything after security chief
“Yea.. excuse me Tai”  Joe seems nervous “i mean Captain” He correct,  he wasn´t happy “ did you said that i would be on the explorer team? I'm no prepare for that, im medical support”
“Yes, and if for some miracle we found Davis and the others i bet they would need you more that anyone of us”  Yamato replied before Taichi, knowing exactly what he was thinking, somehow happy that they could still be on the same page
 The team get ready but after an hour and a half of walking it was obvius that Mimmi has no idea how to use the GPS  
“I thought you work on comunication¡” it was almost dusk and Yamato get desperate
Yes!” she yells “ thats mean i know how to answerd a phone this is hight tec¡”
“Take it easy Matt¡” Joe intervene “let me see that” and he took the device from Mimi´s hand “I taught we need to go to the north, up to that mountain”
“Lets move” Taichi insist “we don´t know how many daylight we have”
“Not saying” Mimmi didnt even ask Joe for returning the device “This forest is weird…”
“Is that your Botanic expertis?” Taichi jokes
“Shut up!” she replied “ don't you think is weird that we havent seen any kind of fauna? i mean is only vegetation, too quiet”
Nobody take notes over Mimi commentary and just keep moving, Yamato could see the despair on Taichi moves, if they didn't find anyone all the mission would be for nothing, he would risk  everyone else life for nothing.
The sky turn black when they encounter a clearing on the wood, and in the corner, thank good what its look like an abandon camp.
“That one look like Cody backpack¡” Joe yells and run to it “and Cody´s sword?” the fears was clear on his face when he pick up a broken old wood sword from the ground
“sshhh” Yamato call his attention  “listen…”  
“Davis?”Taichi ask when something move on the darkness , suddenly from behind the grass an anthropomorphic creature emerg, Mimi shout silently, it was green, without eyes, cover entirely with leaves, the only feature recognizable was it big pointing mouth
“Am.. excuse me?” Taichi begins and Yamato give him credit for not run and hide, as them, and inspire by his lider bravery he pull of his gun “Can you understand me? we come from the star institute, ours companions lost on this planet, we believe this was their camp, if you could help us” the captain come  near to the creature when this get signal to understand him.
Mimmi scream again when others creatures emerge behind the first
“We come in peace” Taichi continues and Yamato walk behind him ready to take him away when his courage cross the line of stupidity.
Sora star to think that her new position as security chief was more  a fancy title than an actual position, of course, when the alarm sound and the explorer team come back with the captain cover in blood meanwhile they escape from some hell looking diabolical carnivore human size plants she make her new position to count.
She close up the ship and shoot every single gun to the monsters.
Joe lead then to the medical facility, Yamato get surprise about the calm and diligence of his friend, he was to use to Joe panik that see him in calm was an anomaly, more when he couldn't stop his hands to shake.
“Put him over the table” Joe scream  “Wherever they throw to him is dangerous” he put a pair of gloves and a face mask “I would need to operate”
Yamato was not prepare for that
He was ready to see Taichi command and success, define the authority and break the rules; but not for that, not for see the man he loves open over an operation table.
“Yamato!” his friend call him “Yamato come on!” Joe snap him “I need you to hold him” he said while he took a scalpel, in automatic Yamato obey.
Taichi resist and scream meanwhile Joe extract the bullets from his body
“It´s look organic” the doctor exclaim
“Let me!” Mimmi take them away from him and examine them “ They look like some kind of seeds” she put them into a plastic contender “I would take this to Koushiro in the lab, meaby we could figure something out.
“Very well” Joe remove the gloves and set the monitors on “we need to keep an eye on him…”
He continues his medical speech but Yamato didn't listen, he couldn´t take his eyes from Taichi, the injure on his stomage look bad, his uniform was cover in blood; Yamato renegade of his position.
“Is my fault” Yamato said
“Stop” Joe cut him off “ I know what are you gonna said but he is the one who approach the monster and for the record he is the one who sight all of us into a suicidal mission so..”
“I should protect…”
Taichi star to caught and Joe run to the instruments
“Did you wanna help? joe scold him “whach him to not choke!!” Yamato pick him up
“He is hot!” his skin was burning “i mean.. he has fever!”
“O stars!” Joe run from one side to the medical facility to another “something is blocking the instruments” he hold a bowl with water and a pair of clean towels “help me”
They manage to control the fever still Taichi seems to be in pain, he mumble incoerences and sweat to much.
“Carefully” Yamato whisper when he try to get up “you are gonna get hurt” he hold him “i´m gonna take care of you, you are gonna be fine” he didn't want to let him go “you are gonna be fine” but he must “Captain”
Taichi just nod and smile, Yamato feel his knees weak, just that and he was complete melt it
“Ok, so you just need to change the towels every time they feel warm and dont let him fall sleep until the fever is gone”  the doctor walk near to the door
“What? were you go?”
“I need to wash myself  and honestly i don't wanna be between you two”
“What?¡ no wait!”
Suddenly he was alone with Taichi, semi conscious Taichi, so beautiful goofy smile Taichi
“Thank you” taichi libs barely move and Yamato decide to concentrate in the take care of him
“Don't mention it, Captain” stupid feelings, he must draw a line “I just do my duty”
“Your duty” he repeat almost laughing “You sound a lot  like him cadet”
“Like him?”
Taichi´s eyes move behind his eyelids, and Yamato remember that he must keep him awake
“Captain! Captain!” he yells “I sound like who?”
“Yamato” he shake his head “My god if that man is beautiful”
“I am…” he stop as soon as he realized “You're delusional….”
“not only beautiful” Taichi continues with a grin “I mean he is fine but he is just.. not real, something else, and his voice… “ muscle spasms appear on his left leg, his right arm shake on the air and Yamato prevent him to fall for the bed.
The time stop as always as they hug, Yamato hold his entire body and he marveled of the sensation of his body against him
“I such an idiot…” Taichi cries over his shoulder
“what?”  
“stupid… stupid…” in a quick movement he let himself drop over the bed again “I´m an idiot!”
“No you are not!” Yamato yells, offended by Taichi´s words “You are brave and and.. determined, you are intuitive and perseverance, you excel in everything you do, you.. you…”
That goofy smile again
“You are so kind cadet, i wish… i wish he had been that kind”
“What? why do you mean by that..”
Taichi didn't answer , he was falling asleep, Yamato hurry to change the towels “no, come on… wake up Taichi!” his body was still warm “Captain! Captain!”
His title bring something in him
“I need water…” Yamato obeys and bring the liquid to his lips as carefully as he can “i miss him so much….”
they must not have that conversation, not when Taichi was hurt, not in an alien planet, not in mortal danger
“liar”
Taichi laugh
“I´m not… that was him, he was always the best liar” his breath turn heavier “i disappointed him”
“No.. no.. you never”
“I saw it…” Taichi whisper “every time he look at me, everytime he yell, or shout, everytime he scold me, everytime he kick the wall, he was disappointed, and i was exhausted”
What had he done?
“No! wake up Captain!” Finally he open his eyes
“You look a lot like him”  he was so close  “ but you have prettiest eyes, Yamato eyes were so cold, he tough i was stupid”
“that´s not true”
“You are just saying…”
“No, you are smart, and clever, you are brave and… you are the bravest person i know, you are a true leader,  people follow you, you are, you are the best person i ever know”
“What a beautifuls things you said cadet”  taichi laid over his shoulder “i wish he would said me those things”
Yamato feels his body trembling, he didnt know what to said
“Can i kiss you Captain?” 
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seriouslyhooked · 6 years
Text
Scoring Your Love (Part 5/?)
Modern AU where Killian is a world famous soccer star who has hit rock bottom and been sentenced to the place where ‘football’ legends go to die – America. While here he crosses paths with Emma, an up and coming musician and film scorer who challenges everything he thought he knew and makes him want more than the game he’s always loved. Will be filled with fluff for days, and eventually rated M.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. Story also on FF here and AO3 here.
A/N: Hello again, all! This chapter, as you might have expected, brings us right back into the fray of game day. We are picking up with Killian’s POV and though there’s a bit about the game, the bulk of the chapter has to do with the actual reuniting of Emma and Killian. I’ve been looking forward to this as I have been writing (and I am really excited to get to the fluff that will be possible hereafter), but I hope that you all enjoy and thanks so much for reading!
“All right guys, that was a solid first half. We came out strong and gave Graham very little to contend with which is always good.”
The team chuckled at their coach, Robin Locksley’s, words, all of them agreeing that it was best to keep the ball away from their own goal tender as much as possible. The less time they spent on their side of the field the better.
“That’s not to say we’ve been perfect,” Robin hedged, “I mean really, Scarlet, that tackle? He barely grazed you and you acted like you’d lost a limb.”
More laughter spread through the locker room as Will Scarlet, one of their mid-defenders, scowled at their coach’s jab. Killian was right there with them, thinking back to the show of dramatics that his new teammate had displayed which belonged in the European leagues or a World Cup match more than it did here. The Americans, for the most part, seemed intent on playing the game, not putting on a show with the hopes of procuring some reward or other.
“Oi, I’m just playing the part, mate! Not my fault you Americans can’t see the strategy in playing up a hit. Besides, Arthur King’s a wanker. I was hoping they’d card him.”
“You realize Coach isn’t actually American, right?” David whispered to Will who just shrugged.
“He’s internalized it, man. He’s completely lost his roots.” More laughter followed the ridiculous assertion.
“Question of my roots aside,” Robin said, trying to retake control of the team meeting, “I think we can all pick it up a bit this half. They’re losing steam out there. Not that you can blame them when Killian has them running all over creation.”
“Seriously, dude,” one of their fellow teammates and a younger American recruit on the team, Gus, said with a tone of appreciation. “You’re like a machine out there. We knew you were good, but not that good.”
Killian gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, knowing that he’d had a great start to the game. Two goals scored despite the obscene amount of coverage he was getting from the other side was nothing to be discouraged about, but Killian also felt he could do better. The next half was a new slate on which to make his mark and he had every intention of leaving that field tonight with a solid victory for the Galaxy and a sterling representation of his skill set for all to see. This would be a season of proving himself again, of reminding people of his talent with the ball on a pitch, and trying to erase the baggage and toxicity that had been thrown his way the past few months.
That being said, Killian couldn’t actually recall the last time a mere exposition game had left him feeling this charged and eager to succeed. Then again the setting had little to do with his emotional state. Surely the match itself was of some importance, for despite his deserving a spot in a more premiere league, Killian wanted to succeed for his sake and the sake of his teammates. But the game itself felt less significant than the unexpected twist of fate awaiting him in the stands.
And what a twist it had been. One moment he’d been focused on his pregame warm ups, sticking to his usual habits for the sake of ritual, and then he’d felt something. There was a split second before he’d seen her where he just knew that Emma was there, and then their eyes met across the field and all thoughts of blocking out the world to focus on the game were gone. His mind was racing a mile a minute with all kinds of thoughts, but the most prominent among them was how could he possibly have gotten this lucky? Here he was struggling the past few days since their chance meeting, trying to figure out how he could get in touch with this intriguing woman again just knowing her face and her first name, and not forty-eight hours later she’d just so happened to walk into his stadium, looking every bit as beautiful as she had that first afternoon.
“Well it doesn’t hurt that he’s got a bit more motivation than the rest of us,” Graham said as he strapped his keeper gloves back on, slapping Killian on the back and pushing out those thoughts of Emma. “Didn’t you all see the girl he’s been staring at?”
The cacophony of responses in the locker room was near deafening with hoots and hollers and different childish variations of ‘Killian’s got a girl!’ circulating about, but Killian still tried to play it cool despite not loving that he was completely figured out so easily. He hazarded a glance at David, the only one of his mates who had mentioned anything on the field, but Killian turned away from his meddling if well-meaning friend shortly thereafter. All game long David had been making subtle jokes about Killian’s being smitten, and it had taken Killian’s eventual confession that this was the same girl from the street a few days ago before David sobered up.
“Wait, that’s Emma?” David asked as they both caught a breather on the sidelines to get some water and catch their breath, the tone of laughter falling to the wayside as David scanned the crowd again to get a better look. “Your Emma?”
“Aye,” Killian had acknowledged, incapable of not looking back over to where she sat in the stands with her friends. She hadn’t noticed his attentions at this particular moment yet (as she had most times he snuck a glance up to this point) and he took the chance to really soak her in, watching her laugh at something one of her companions had said and feeling his gut clench at the sight. God she was beautiful, dressed for a game and a casual evening out with people who clearly meant the world to her, and he was a right moron for ever having mucked up his chance with her in the first place. He would not be so foolish again, that was for damn sure.
“Huh. Wait she’s not the one with all the team gear on, right?” David asked, his tone suddenly a bit more terse than it had been only moments before.
“Uh… no?” Killian said looking back at his new friend and finding a familiar look etched on his face. Ha! Here was David berating him for being smitten, but it seemed one of Emma’s friends had caught his eye too. Would wonders ever cease? “Why, do you know her?”
“Not yet,” David said with a grin. “But once you make it right with Emma I’ll have my in. So you should really get a move on.”
“Is this going to be a problem, Killian?” Robin asked him privately, pulling Killian from the stream of memories. It was clear their coach did not want to draw attention with the other players, probably because Killian had made one direct request when he moved to this team: he didn’t want the details of his coming here aired all over the place. Robin knew about Gold and the PR standoff, but the less people that were in the loop on the nightmare of Killian’s personal life the better.
“No, sir,” Killian replied with complete certainty. After all, he might not know Emma very well, but he could trust his instincts enough to know that she wasn’t anything like a problem. In fact, she might just be the answer to all the ones he’d faced before, but Killian was getting ahead of himself. First he had a game to win and then he could try to start and win the girl.
“Fantastic. I never was particularly good at the whole lecturing thing, and as long as you keep playing as you have I see no reason to learn now. And if Regina asks, because she always does, I’ll just tell her I trust you and that’ll be that.”
Robin made it sound like the easiest of tasks to reason with Regina Mills, their fearless and fearsome team owner. Regina was a woman seen pretty much the world over as being a hard ass who was brilliant at business but stubborn as an ox. Yet Killian knew Robin meant what he said and that his coach did have an inexplicable sway with the team’s owner. To this point Killian hadn’t seen anything that crossed professional boundaries between them, but the dynamic they had was so startlingly different than any other of Regina’s that Killian had seen that he had to hold it in high esteem. Keeping his hard bought ally happy was important after all, and it turned out the best option for managing that ally was staying on good terms with his coach.
“No offense, but I must have missed that part in my contract that said I had to run potential dates by the Queen,” Killian joked, trying to keep the mood light by using the team’s nickname for Regina. Robin replied with a blank face.
“Section six, clause C of your contract.” Killian’s jaw was set to drop at that. Bloody hell! Had he really signed something so ridiculous?! But then Robin’s stony face broke into a grin and he shook his head. “No, I’m messing with you. Just remember Regina’s an observant woman, and she’s hardly known for being subtle. When she finds out you’re seeing anyone, seriously or not, she’ll stick her nose in it without shame. Is this girl worth that?”
A call on Robin’s attention interrupted their conversation, but as his coach walked away Killian admitted to himself that yes, Emma was worth any hardship that might come to him for seeking out time with her. Technically this was supposed to be a year of lying low, but instinctively Killian knew that Emma wouldn’t be a threat to that. If anything he’d seen that look in her sparkling green eyes today that spoke to her unease at his being somewhat famous. When it dawned on her that he was a professional athlete, some things seemed to click into place, but Killian wanted to prove those assumptions wrong. He was more than the stereotype; at least he was at his core. Perhaps Killian had indulged in the frivolity of his fame at times, yes, but he was different now, or at least he wanted to be. Suddenly there was a real motivation to be better than he once was, and as he and the team headed back out for the second half of their match, Killian clung to that desire to improve.
That aspiration proved a very powerful tool, and the team won the match in the end 5-1, which had everyone in the best of spirits. Yet as his teammates celebrated, Killian couldn’t manage to ride that high with the others. All he could think through the end of game talk and their time getting cleaned up was that he had to find a way to get to Emma. He didn’t dare to dream that she’d have stuck around this long after the game since more than a half an hour had come and gone, but he had been meticulous in paying attention to where she’d been sitting, and he was confident that he could give the people at the ticket offices the right cluster of seats. For some reason he doubted that the evening had been Emma’s idea, but maybe he’d get a clue in the right direction on how to find her again, and God knew any lead would be welcomed.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re about to go full stalker right now.”
David’s words were said in jest as Killian was heading out, and though Killian had no desire to delay, he was surprised to find it wasn’t necessary. It turned out that David was ready to leave already too, and Killian’s initial thought that he’d be doing this alone evaporated. He didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand maybe having an extra set of eyes and ears would help, but on the other Killian hadn’t any want for distraction if and when he finally did find Emma.
“But you do? Know better I mean?” Killian asked, wondering what the line actually was that he wouldn’t cross at this point. Getting into the financial records from the stadium was already a gray area, wasn’t it? But it didn’t feel anything less than necessary to Killian.
“Oh yeah. You might have a crazy look in your eyes at the moment, but you aren’t actually insane. At least not dangerously so.” David laughed at his own joke and Killian only shook his head.
“Thanks, mate. Your faith in me is uplifting as ever.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I tried to get rid of him, but I couldn’t.”
Get rid of him? Killian thought to himself, but before he could ask David to explain himself the ‘him’ he was referring to manifested. Turned out this wasn’t just a duo undertaking this search in the end, and along with David it appeared Graham was dead set on playing a part in all of this too.
“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered under his breath as Graham walked out of the locker room with the same confident swagger the man always embodied. He looked pleased to see the two of them still there and now Killian knew there was no escape from what would likely be a constant stream of jest at his expense.
“Didn’t think I was gonna miss out on you making heart eyes at that girl now did you, Jones? I’ve been waiting for this all game.”
“Anyone ever tell the two of you that you’re slightly too invested in the life of a man you’ve only just met?” Killian asked as they moved down the private club hallway towards the exit of the stadium closest to the ticket office. It was where Tiny, his bodyguard and driver, was set to meet him this evening, and it would also be a good place to start the hunt for Emma. But as they made it down the hallway, Killian found Tiny wasn’t alone. Somehow his man had already done the extensive work of tracking down Emma, for here she was, waiting in the reception area with two of her friends. Killian had a fleeting thought to give Tiny a hefty raise for such a stroke of genius, but then all of his thoughts focused squarely on the beautiful woman before him.
A moment passed where Killian hadn’t been spotted yet and his friends didn’t seem to connect that here was the woman he’d been mooning over. In that precious space of time Killian had the ability to collect his thoughts. It was a triumph for sure, considering what an enticement Emma made for even after he’d been keeping tabs on her through the game, but he centered himself to be assured that he wouldn’t fuck this up again. He would by no means wield the same conceited air that he had before. This time he’d side with humility and the honest truth that he had messed up and would never be so careless as to do so again.
“Oh good, Tiny came through in the end,” David acknowledged, sounding unsurprised and Killian pulled his glance from Emma to interrogate his friend.
“You knew about this?” Killian asked and David only smiled.
“Sure did. I asked him to help out at the half. I thought you might originally, but you seemed a little preoccupied.”
Killian knew that he had been rather distracted, and right now he was so damn grateful to David for having the foresight to do something where he had failed to. Killian immediately dropped all the resentment he’d had at having to share his reunion with Emma with other people. David could stay. After all, he’d earned it.
“Preoccupied is one word for it,” Graham said with a laugh, and the reaction was so boisterous that it ended up alerting Emma and the other two women with her of their approach.
Killian tried to ignore the laughter at his expense, and it was easily done since he now had to try and combat the fluttering of anxiety that had settled in his chest. This was his last shot to do the right thing and to show Emma he was worth her time. He could only make this second impression once. The only problem was crafting the words to do so in his head as he closed the space between he and Emma wasn’t going so well, and the next thing he knew they were only feet apart and she was looking at him expectantly.
“Forgive my current loss of words, love, I just can’t believe my luck at running into you again.”
“Yeah, small world,” Emma agreed, her voice so much softer than it had been last time, but still quizzical and cautious as it sounded out to him.
There was a clear wall still erected between the two of them, but since Emma wasn’t running from him, Killian considered that a win in itself. His behavior on the street the other day had been callous and thoughtless. As such he tried to take command of the situation with a bit more tact and gentlemanly charm. He started by smiling to her two friends and offering a handshake in greeting.
“Excuse my manners. I’m Killian Jones, and these two sorry looking blokes behind me are David Nolan and Graham Humbert.”
“Oh we know who you are,” one of Emma’s friends, the one that Dave had noticed before, responded immediately before going a little red. Killian wasn’t entirely certain, but he suspected that this woman was the cause of his good fortune. Taking a better look at her now, he could see that she was in fact decked out in team apparel and she certainly looked more a soccer fan than Emma or the taller brunette beside her.
“What Mary Margaret is trying to say is that your reputation proceeds you, both on and off the field. Isn’t that right, Emma?” the other woman asked with a smirk. Killian swore he heard a groan that came from Emma, and he most certainly saw an eye roll, but the taller woman paid it no mind as she laughed. “I’m Ruby, by the way. Ruby Lucas.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you look like one of the girls from Dawn of the Odyssey?” Graham blurted out randomly, and Killian was about to call his friend a right idiot when Ruby smiled even wider, this time a light reaching her eyes of excitement that hadn’t been present only a second ago.
“You saw that? Literally no one saw that show!” Ruby exclaimed. “Trust me I begged so many people to watch it but to no avail.”
“We’re on the road a lot,” Graham said with a shrug as David decided it was his turn to chime in.
“And though he might not look like it, Graham’s a big sci-fi nerd.”
“I have an appreciation for good stories,” Graham said, sounding embarrassed now at the ribbing, but where Killian wanted to be entertained he was mostly still anxious. His eyes remained on Emma’s and while he was trying to figure out how to get some actual alone time with her, Emma was the one to take action.
“So could we maybe… talk?” she asked as she nodded in a direction where there were less people.
“Aye, love,” he agreed, but instead of just moving away with her, Killian found himself offering his hand. Emma considered it for a moment before giving in, but when her hand was in his Killian felt his whole being come alive. To find simultaneous elation and peace was an immensely satisfying experience, and so it made it all the harder to let go when they’d maneuvered out of the direct scrutiny of their friends and taken up residence in a private corner.
“Before I say anything else, I just wanted to state for the record that I’m sorry, Emma. The way I handled myself the other day was nothing short of regrettable and I’ve thought of little else since it happened.”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot too and there’s a slight chance I might have overreacted,” Emma acknowledged, her fingers coming up to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she did.
“I’m not so sure of that, love. The fault lies entirely with me. I was trying to mask my disappointment at not getting a chance to see you again and in doing so I undermined the value of your time and attention elsewhere.” Killian watched as a little bit more of that wall around Emma’s being seemed to crumble away. It honestly didn’t feel like he was saying enough to truly express how sorry he was, but she seemed to be accepting him, and that felt like the ultimate gift.
“Well that’s… honest,” Emma said, her surprise evident in her tone, like it shocked her that he’d be totally upfront with her in this moment. “Most guys wouldn’t admit to that.”
“Despite appearances so far, I like to think I’m better than most guys. Yet still, a better man would have respected your refusal and asked for a different day. Perhaps I could do so now…” Killian edged, his breath catching as he waited for Emma to reply.
“Perhaps,” Emma responded, her voice a more gravelly whisper as her eyes cast down to his lips for a brief glance before returning to his once more. “But here in America we usually exchange numbers first.”
“Is that right?” Killian asked with a chuckle, surprised but pleased at her direction in this.
“Mhmm,” she murmured back with a smile. “Gotta give ourselves a little time to get a better feel for each other. That way if we want to back out we still can, no harm, no foul.”
“Trust me, love,” Killian said as he stepped forward, moving closer to the pulsing energy she sparked into his life. “I’ve no intention of turning my back on this. You can rest assured on that front.”
“I would hope not. I mean you’ve gone to all this trouble…” Emma said with a laugh and the sound was intoxicating, filling Killian with a warmth he never wanted to fade. “So, are you going to take out your phone, or are you one of those people with a superhuman memory?”
“Right,” Killian said, a bit embarrassed at his continued lack of ability to keep up with her, but when he looked up Emma and passed her his phone she was smiling sweetly at him. Apparently his genuine sense of being overwhelmed by her was endearing, and he was grateful she took it that way instead of being turned off. This was pretty much the opposite of his cocky come on of the past, but it was also more genuine if he was being honest.
“Well I guess I’ll see you around then, Killian Jones,” Emma said with a smirk
“I’m counting on it, Emma…” Damn! He realized only in this moment that he didn’t know her last name but she filled in easily.
“Swan. Emma Swan.”
“Swan,” Killian repeated, tasting it on his tongue as he watched her return to her friends and lead them away. And though it was hard to watch her go, Killian knew that this was indeed a great day – because now he had a means to get to Emma and he had a path ahead of him where he could try to make her see how right they were together and how rare a thing this spark between them was.
Post-Note: Nothing is more fun for me than writing CS where Emma is a little guarded but taking the risk and Killian loves her almost from first sight. It never gets old for me, because I just love this couple so much. Anyway, since it’s a little slower of a burn than some of my other stories, next chapter will not bring the date, but no worries the one after that definitely will. In the meantime there will be cuteness and a bit more set up, but mostly just light hearted fluff for days. I hope you guys enjoyed and will continue on with me when I post again in two weeks (and I do mean two weeks this time!) and thanks so much for reading!
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youngboy-oldmind · 4 years
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ALBUM REVIEW: Revival
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“It’s true, I’m a Rubik’s. A beautiful mess/At times juvenile yes. I goof and I jest/A flawed human I guess”
Detroit legend and highest-selling rapper of the decade, Eminem, releases his eighth (ninth if you count Infinite) album Revival: a project that is over hated, yet plagued with cringey lyrics, inconsistency, and an excessive runtime (77 minutes), propelling his decline and mainstream hate that’s haunted him since the late 2000s.
Overall thoughts
I say this with pain because I genuinely think this project could’ve been comparable to Jay-Z’s 4:44. Both rappers have been successful since the 90s and they both know their best is behind them. However, Jay-Z hit the mark where Eminem vastly missed. BUT, this isn’t a review of 4:44. Unfortunately, this is a review of Eminem’s controversial 2017 project: Revival.
Revival misses the mark for several reasons. First, the songs he chose for pre-release singles turned off fans from the jump. He pre-released “Walk on Water”, which captured the interest of fans who appreciate Eminem’s calmer, more introspective side. However, his second single release “Untouchable” made me hesitant to expect this album to revive Eminem’s career. This song isn’t strong enough to headline the album. At best, it’s a little annoying. And at worse, its skippable in 60 seconds. Furthermore, it was a political song, so any listeners that disagreed with his message immediately disassociated from the project.
Second, his lyricism is weak throughout the album, downright offensive at some points. Not offensive like its edgy or has shock value. Offensive like I can’t believe he made me listen to such shtty similes and metaphors. Contenders for the worst lines include but are not limited to:
“Instinctive nature to bring the anguish to the English language/ With this ink you haters get rode on (wrote on), like a piece of paper”
“I’m looking at your tight rear like a sight seer/ Your booty is heavy duty, like diarrhea”
“I just bodied the beat, so that hole must’ve been dug/Cause it just died, like food coloring does”
Along with weak metaphors, he also uses his signature play-on-words style to create painstaking lines such as
“The plan’s to bring her to my house/You’re drinking Jack and Beam, I’m thinking soon this tramp’ll lean (trampoline) so we can bounce”
“From the first time I saw you, I actually/Said to myself, ‘I gotta meet her’ (meter) like a taxi”
“I ask does she want a computer lodged in her vagina/Said my dick is an apple, she said put it inside her (in cider)”
Some of the vocal performances were painful as well. On “Chloraseptic” and “Untouchable”, he straight up lets out ridiculous drawn out yells. I have difficulty accepting that the producer of those tracks and long-time friend of Eminem, Denaun, heard him make those noises and didn’t tell him on how bad it sounds.
Third, and most importantly, Eminem’s tone is extremely inconsistent throughout the project. I wouldn’t be as critical towards the goofy songs if Eminem set and maintained one tone. He began the album with “Walk on Water”, discussing the stress of constant scrutiny and how unrealistic expectations make him doomed to fall short. This is a great topic to talk about as someone who was 18 years into his fame. But then, he begins topic ping-pong for almost an hour, switching back and forth between maturity and childishness, (with some high spots that I’ll discuss later). You cannot complain that people stress you out with high expectations, and then make songs that’s just punchlines revolving around breasts, butts, and vulgar sex.
Logic has great examples of priming your expectations and tones. He makes it clear when a project is a concept piece, like Incredible True Story or Everybody, or when he’s just having fun, like Bobby Tarantino I & II. Because Eminem keeps switching between serious songs and dumb songs, it makes everything seem disingenuous. For example, on the song “Like Home”, he basically rips Donald Trump a new one, going so far as to compare him to Hitler. But on the song “Heat” he makes a joke that he agrees with Donald Trump that women’s privates are supposed to be grabbed, which is why “they call it a snatch”. You can’t criticize the president in one song and then agree with them in the next, even if you’re joking. You can have fun songs and serious songs, but they should keep the album’s tone consistent.
Okay, I’m done criticizing, cause there are some great things about this album. “Walk on Water” was a great intro to the album. “River” is great collab between Ed Sheeran and Eminem. While the content of “Remind Me” is unremarkable, Rick Rubin delivers on the beat, creating an entertaining chorus that samples Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ “I Love Rock n Roll”. I will give credit to “Offended”, which is ambitious to say in the least. I skipped it on first listen but it actually grew on me. And of course, the final two tracks “Castle” and “Arose” are the album’s peak.
If Eminem would’ve shaved the track list to 9 songs instead of 19, weeding out the childish/forgettable songs and making it more tonally consistent, this album would be much better. My ideal Revival album would be:
1. Walk on Water
2. Believe
3. River
4. Like Home
5. Tragic Endings
6. Nowhere Fast
7. Offended
8. Castle
9. Arose
This would bring the runtime down to 40 minutes instead of 77 minutes. At 45 years old, 8 albums into his career and 18 years in the game, Eminem doesn’t have 77 minutes’ worth of material to talk about. And it shows.
I mentioned earlier that this project is over hated. Although there are things I strongly dislike about this project, it isn’t nearly as bad as media and music reviewers describe it. Two of his previous projects, Encore and Relapse, were much worse than Revival. I think it’s an exaggeration to call Revival the worst of his career, but it is definitely indication of a decline.
Album Breakdown
“Walk on Water” ignites the album with an emotional piano ballad, Beyonce’s beautiful vocals on the chorus, and Eminem’s surprisingly self-exposing verses. He talks about the pain of having a section of hip hop disregard him, while having another section constantly hold him to a standard he feels like he’ll never reach again. It’s more melodramatic than what I expect from an Eminem song, especially the dramatic pause at the beginning of the first verse where he dramatically asks “why.........?”. Seeing Eminem express vulnerability instead of constantly acting like a god gave me hope.
But then...I heard the last 5 seconds, and I knew I was in trouble.
“Cause I’m just a man/
But as long as I got a mic I’m godlike/
So me and you are not alike/
B***h, I wrote ‘Stan’”
This transitions into “Believe”, a track that carries on the topic from the previous song but establishes that he is not self-conscious and knows he’s superior in the rap game, asking the audience if THEY believe in him. It’s disappointing to see him abandon vulnerability so quickly. It took five minutes and four seconds for Eminem to backtrack and basically say “Nah, I can reach every height. You guys just need to believe in me”. Like he’s blaming critics and fans for his decline, not his skills or style. I did not care for this shift. And speaking of shifts, we hear Eminem’s first attempt at a trap beat, which sounds off with his rapping style. He’s constantly taking odd pauses to squeeze in rhyme schemes. Not the worst song, but already starting the contradictions to the initial tone of the album.
Eminem’s second attempt at a trap beat, “Chloraseptic”, was painful. I can’t sugar coat it. Half of the time I had no clue what he was saying, and the half that I could understand had no substance. He mocks Migos’ style, using adlibs, shouts, and voice bites that make him sound old and desperate to fit in modern trap music. Over his career, Eminem’s best tracks have either a rock sample or a piano melody. But this is clear evidence that very few Eminem tracks should be trap songs.
As I mentioned earlier, “Untouchable” was released early as a single. This song was painful because I knew what he was going for. So it sucks to be distracted by the subpar delivery. The rock guitars and harmonized vocals in the chorus hit my ears too hard, making me wince and decrease the volume at the chorus. Eminem’s verses have him shouting/teasing “white boy, white boy” “black boy, black boy” which is too immature for someone of his status and stature. And there’s a line in the first verse where he says “then we wonder why we see this side of youuuuuuuuuuuu”, drawing out the last word in this painful, awful voice that definitely should’ve been scrapped. In the second half of the song, the instrumental switches from a hard rock sample to a piano melody that illustrates a sense of anxiety. Also, in the last verse, he switches perspectives and talks as a black person under systematic oppression. While I appreciate the effort, it doesn’t really translate into anything emotionally because his solutions to these problems are shallow.
He talks about police brutality and systemic racial issues. The problem is it’s all surface level. Someone with his age and experience should be able to add more to the discussion. But he comes through with messages like “We need to hire black cops and stop putting cops in neighborhoods they are unfamiliar with. This country was built on slaves. It’s unfair Kaepernick got hate for kneeling during the national anthem. Racial profiling is the cause of violence”. These are things I was able to articulate as a middle schooler. But he delivers these thoughts like he’s speaking from the woke-est perspective the world’s ever seen. When in reality, there are tweets that hold more substance. And because of this, Eminem’s yelling doesn’t feel like anger. It just feels loud and misguided.
Fortunately, we then transition to one of the stronger songs on the album, “River”. He discusses a toxic relationship filled with cheating, lies, and an abortion. Eminem has always delivered good bad-relationship songs, so I’m not surprised another one is one of the best on the album. Ed Sheeran’s singing on the chorus is dope, especially at the end when the instruments drop at the end and Sheeran’s tender vocals cap off the track. Cannot complain; its easily the best track so far.
“Remind Me” is the first goofy track on the album. Eminem is taking a break from serious topics like meeting other’s expectations, success and failure, police brutality, and a devastating relationship, to talk about a girl with “implants so big” she could hang him up on her rack, with her “big ol’ tits”. This song is only tolerable because Rick Rubin’s sample was fun to hear. Otherwise, this song is unbearable.
“Like Home” is his next political song. He takes a patriotic stance while criticizing President Trump. And that’s about it. Pretty much a diss track where he spent 8 lines setting up a Hitler punchline and then calling Americans to unite against Trump. Alicia Keys sings the chorus but its nothing heart stopping. Definitely one of the more forgettable songs simply because it wasn’t painful to listen to.
The thing about bad songs or forgettable songs is that if you string too many together, they become more difficult to tolerate. So I’m coming off the heels of the annoying “Remind Me” and forgettable “Like Home”, when I get to “Bad Husband”. Here, he’s talking about how bad he was to Kim, his ex-wife. This song seems good on paper, but two things make it bad: X Ambassadors on the chorus and X Ambassadors on the chorus. X Ambassadors and Eminem do not fit well. Their loud style doesn’t fit the quiet, soft vocals that Eminem implements. It’s also hard to take Eminem’s apology seriously. On the chorus, X Ambassadors call him a 1) lord 2) good father 3) good dad 4) great father. No genuine apology contains repeated self-appraisal. Imagine if someone hits you with their car and says “Wow, I’m such a bad driver. I’m a great manager. Great parent to my kids. I donate to the local homeless shelter. And I baby sit for free. But I’m such a bad driver.” Is that really an apology?
And to that note, I’d take being hit by a car over hearing X Ambassadors on the chorus.
“Tragic Endings” picks up the album. Skylar Grey is amazing on the chorus. The entire song sounds like a sister of “Love the Way You Lie”. This talks about a toxic relationship with someone who doesn’t encourage him. I’m not surprised he once again hits a high point with a bad relationship song. Eminem’s verses are alright, and the instrumentation carries the same tragic-ness that surrounds the content of his verses. Skylar Grey and Eminem have collaborated on multiple songs over the years and they tend to compliment each other well.
Side note: There’s a curse in this album that’s wreaking havoc. After a certain number of bad songs, my appreciation for a song comes from the fact that it doesn’t make me want to take off my headphones. I’m approaching every song with “it can’t get worse than its already gotten”.
Then it got worse... “Framed”. With an instrumental possessing a western, cowboy-saloon vibe and a chorus that creates a “cowboy please shoot me in the head and end it all, this album is torture” vibe, “Framed” is a storytelling track where Eminem is framed for a murder. Apparently, some of his gruesome lyrics are so incriminating that he could be considered a suspect for a murder. Now, I love story telling tracks. One of my favorite records of all time is The Great Adventures of Slick Rick. But Eminem is too old and passed the point of his career where associating with assault, kidnapping, or murder is entertaining and/or interesting. It was shocking in 1999 when he talks about dumping his wife in a pier so he can be with his child without her interference. I would never condone that, but I was highly attentive. But 18 years later, saying you have Ivanka Trump in the back of your car is just creepy. Definitely the worst song on the album.
“Nowhere Fast” features Kehlani on the chorus and exciting violin strings that accompany Eminem’s commentary on the rap game. Kehlani is definitely talented, but I don’t think her style matches Eminem. Overall the song is middle of the road. Not horrible, not amazing.
Now that he’s dissed Trump, talked about a bad relationships, his “killer” lyrics, and the rap industry, it’s time to go back to a fun song and make more jokes about butt & boob implants. “Heat” is very similar to “Remind Me”. They both use a rock and roll sample and discuss the same shallow content. The sample isn’t as entertaining as “Remind Me”, so that makes it harder to tolerate the excessive double entendres and play on words just to illustrate offensive commentary on a woman. I try not to overuse quotes, but I had to save the worst line.
“Girl, you’re just gonna have to put them other chumps on the back burner/You got buns, I got Asperger’s (Ass burgers)”
I mentioned earlier that this next track “Offended” grew on me over time. The issue with tonally switching back and forth is it’s difficult to tell how seriously Eminem takes himself. How can I know Eminem is actually self-conscious about others’ expectations of him, when he immediately calls himself godlike and makes multiple songs about boob jobs? Here, Eminem makes it clear he is trolling and wants to offend and irritate a hater. Once I understood that, I was able to just enjoy it as a dumb track. The instrument is fun and bouncy, and the chorus is extremely childish, but purposely done so that it’s hard to criticize it seriously.
I can sum up the next two tracks, “Need Me” and “In Your Head” as forgettable. “Need Me” is another track about a toxic relationship ft. P!nk’s amazing vocals. Although the ratio of P!nk to Eminem on the song makes me think it should’ve been a P!nk song featuring Eminem. And on “In Your Head” Eminem simply describes his displeasure with past decisions, the most notable part of the song being The Cranberries sample on the chorus, which ended up being wasted on a take it or leave it track.
“Castle” comes outta left field as a MAJOR upgrade from the rest of the album. It almost feels like it belongs on a different album completely. The chorus is slow building with these subtle organ keys and a bassline where the instrumental doesn’t quite kick in but it hints at a explosion about to occur. Liz Rodrigues on the chorus helps Eminem deliver this song; a series of letters that Eminem writes to his daughter, apologizing for things in her life that are impacted by him and his decisions. They’re written in 1995, 1996, and 2007.
The first verse talks about his excitement about having a new baby daughter. The second verse talks about his failed album Infinite and how he’s not sure how he’s going to provide for them, but he’s stumbled onto an idea (The Slim Shady LP, which thrusted him into mainstream success). The third verse is in 2007, where he states his guilt for her life being thrusted in public light, his distaste for fame, his pills addiction. During that time, Eminem was suffering from drug addiction and nearly died from an overdose. The song ends with him taking pills and audibly collapsing onto the floor.
“Arose” picks up where “Castle” leaves off. Eminem talks over a piano ballad and an echo-ey drum that makes you feel like you’re in an empty dark room. Eminem is currently in the ER hooked up to life support machines, talking about the things he’ll miss if he dies in the hospital bed. Amongst other goodbyes, he tells his daughters to take care of each other and he’ll always be in their memory. Truly heart wrenching. But as he says goodbye to everybody, he suddenly fights to stay alive, his heart starts beating, and he recovers. As he recovers, he mentions rewinding the tape of time. Rewinding to before he made the mistake of overdosing.
Then, in an expert display of technical skill and creativity, the track rewinds to the instrumental for “Castle”, and Eminem delivers a final verse that has a much more “onward and forward”, positive outlook. It brings tears to my eyes every time I listen to it. He describes shredding the old letters and not letting the past hold him back. And that the first half of the song is what he would’ve wrote to his daughters if he had made it 2 hours later to the hospital, which is about how long the doctor said he would’ve lived if he hadn’t checked in. In this masterpiece of a closer, Eminem connects back to the concept of reviving. Without question, the best song on the album and the best outro of any Eminem album
Final Thoughts
The Intro “Walk on Water” and outros “Castle”/”Arose” feel like they belong on a completely separate album; they’re totally different from the tracks that encompassed the middle. So while those three are great, the album ultimately suffers from inconsistent themes and messages. If Eminem would’ve stuck with vulnerability and maturity, this album would’ve been great. Overall, the project isn’t horrible. But besides the few high points, I’m disappointed.
Top 3 Songs:
1) Arose
2) Castle
3) River
Overall Grade: C-
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junker-town · 4 years
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James Harden’s legacy shouldn’t be this complicated
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James Harden’s legacy is under the microscope.
Appreciating James Harden shouldn’t be this hard.
James Harden’s legacy, status, and reputation forced their way into the NBA news cycle during his recent on-camera interview with ESPN’s Rachel Nichols. In it, Harden reacted to Nichols’ line of questioning with faux disinterest, as if feeding his own narrative was beneath him, while what he actually wanted was to set the record straight.
Harden addressed several topics, including the criticism that’s long-accompanied his results-oriented aesthetic, and his team’s stark decision to embrace small-ball with a tighter grip than any championship contender before them ever has. He accurately noted that teams cover him differently than everybody else, appointed himself as the best player in the world, and, of great interest to anyone who watched, took an unnecessary shot at Giannis Antetokounmpo, the reigning league MVP who’s a heavy favorite to win it again.
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Harden’s nonchalance failed to mask a clear frustration with how he’s judged on the superstar spectrum, and the subtext of that sit-down revealed more about where he is in his career than any petty rivalry ever could. While there were certainly moments that didn’t paint Harden in the best light — his mischaracterization of Antetokounmpo’s skill-level was comical — he was right in many other regards, including how we are not properly appreciating his greatness in real time.
There was a simmering nerve that belied Harden’s audacious statements, an awareness of what’s on the line and what he’s actually up against. But Harden’s opponent is not Antetokounmpo. Instead, the NBA’s leading scorer is at war against time, precedent, and a grating perception that rarely aligns with how awesome he truly is. The man is 30 years old, on a team venturing into the postseason with no big man in their rotation. It’s all or nothing, largely on the back of his own absurdly efficient skill-set.
Segments of NBA Twitter see the Harden vs. Antetokounmpo debate as Gotti vs. Goodfellas, but arguing vociferously for one over another is like comparing the net worth of Warren Buffett and Mark Zuckerberg: It actually means nothing. Both live on the “best player on a championship contender” island, where the margin between them is exhaustingly thin. The differences are myriad, but boil down to baggage and opportunity.
Antetokounmpo has zero postseason accomplishments worth speaking of, a monumental collapse that is rarely portrayed as a monumental collapse, and holes in his game which are harder to gloss over in the playoffs. But we collectively assume he will eventually get over the hump because his runway to do so is longer. There’s more time for present-day flaws to improve, and even though championships aren’t promised to any individual player, Antetokounmpo is as strong a bet as any to someday win one.
Harden is five years older than his rival. He gets no benefit of the doubt. Fair or not, the most glowing sections of his CV — i.e. he’s finished first or second in the MVP race in four of the last five seasons — have dimmed, and the accumulation of disappointment has taken its toll. All that’s left to change how Harden will be remembered is a championship, and that’s a shame. There should be no shame if he comes up short. The Hall of Fame is littered with household names who were tainted by bad timing.
Harden’s prime collided with the unforeseeable rise of a formidable Golden State Warriors dynasty, LeBron James’ remarkable third act, and another super team built overnight in Los Angeles that features two players (Kawhi Leonard and Paul George) who can make his life extraordinarily difficult. Of course, Harden is not without blame, either. There are unforgettable, inexplicably poor postseason performances on his resume that could only be explained by a conspiracy theory.
Flashbulb memories of Harden getting benched during the fourth quarter of Game 6 in the 2015 conference semifinals as his Rockets stormed back to take down the Los Angeles Clippers. (Harden also played 44 minutes in Houston’s Game 7 win, finishing with 31 points, eight rebounds, seven assists, and three steals.) Next up was the eventual champs. Harden was a monster in the first two games of that series, with 58.5/44.4/87.5 shooting splits to go with a 33-point triple-double. He was plus-9 while Houston lost both by a combined five points.
Game 3 was a dud (17 points on 3-for-16 shooting) in a 32-point blowout loss. Harden followed it up with 45 points in 40 minutes to stave off elimination, before Game 5’s infamous 2-for-11, 12-turnover fiasco that ended Houston’s season. I don’t remember thinking less of Harden after those playoffs, though. His best teammate was Dwight Howard. Jason Terry, Trevor Ariza, Corey Brewer, and Josh Smith were key parts of Houston’s rotation. This was his first playoff run as an MVP candidate (he finished second behind Steph Curry for the award that season).
The following year was a nightmare, yet he still played in all 82 games and led the league in minutes. The Rockets fell once again to the Warriors in the first round; Harden shot 41 percent, averaged 26.6 points, 7.6 assists, and 5.2 rebounds. In the Game 5 series finale, he scored a game-high 35 points on just 23 shots. Terry and Michael Beasley combined to play 45 minutes.
His 2016-17 season ended with a genuinely perplexing 2-for-11, 10-point, elimination-game loss at home against the Leonard-less San Antonio Spurs. Harden fouled out with 3:15 on the clock and Houston down by 37. This was his nadir, and led to the Chris Paul trade, which pushed the Rockets as close to a championship as they could possibly be without actually winning it all. Harden averaged 28.7 points per game against the Warriors in that classic seven-game conference finals series, but only shot 24.4 percent from beyond the arc, including a 2-for-13 showing without Paul in Game 7.
There’s no excuse for these individual performances, but in 61 total playoff games since 2015, Harden has also averaged 28.6 points, 7.3 assists, and 5.7 rebounds. His usage was 34 percent and his True Shooting was a respectable 57.6. This is ridiculous!
Back to the present day, where Harden’s current season has been arguably his most impressive yet. He leads the league in Win Shares for the fourth season in a row, sits at the top in VORP for the third time in his career. His True Shooting is currently the highest it’s ever been, and no player in NBA history has ever hit that mark with a usage rate as high as it is. Harden also leads the league in Offensive Real Plus-Minus and RPM Wins. He impacts his team’s bottom line as much, or more, than anybody else, while the Rockets are better on defense when he plays for the very first time. (Look how far ahead of everyone else Harden is in RAPTOR wins above replacement, and Total RAPTOR. He’s annihilating the league.)
In February, Houston’s offensive rating with Harden on the court was a whopping 120.7 points per 100 possessions, and it plummeted 20.4 points per 100 possessions when he sat. The 1.13 points per possession he generates in isolation (at the league’s highest volume) are about as good as Milwaukee’s offense on the whole. While nearly half of Antetokounmpo’s baskets are assisted, Harden is only at 14 percent. It’s not an apples-to-apples comparison, but his dribbles and seconds per touch are twice as high as the reigning MVP, and Harden has played over 400 more minutes, averaging more per game than everybody except Damian Lillard, whose body recently broke down.
Spacing matters for everyone, but Harden’s skill-set isn’t solely dependent on surrounding personnel. He’s launched 440 step-back threes this season — over one-third of his total shots; about six percent more often than last year — and made a ridiculous 38.2 percent of them.
All this is to say the ire Harden directed at Antetokounmpo was silly and there’s no excuse for slandering a fellow megastar, even one who cracked a joke at his expense on national television. But the resentment is understandable for a player whose greatness should, by now, overshadow stereotypes that cloud how he’s received, who doesn’t have time on his side, leading an unorthodox roster through the thick of what promises to be a particularly laboring playoff run.
Harden is one of the most influential, dominant, and self-contained players the NBA has ever seen, and his place in the league shouldn’t be as complicated as some make it seem. Few players have ever been so easy to appreciate, and it would be nice if Harden could find the proper amount in the moment, while he’s still this special.
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auburnfamilynews · 5 years
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Where success is built from failure
War Eagle Auburn fans! Welcome back for yet another week of us all trying to make sense of where our rooting interests most benefit the Tigers. This week, we’ve got what feels like a light plate in terms of where we can serve to benefit within the SEC, with both Alabama and LSU being off prior to the Game of the Century of the Year. That being said, we’ve got some real hate to direct towards Jacksonville, Florida this weekend and a night game in Jordan-Hare to get to. With that in mind, let’s figure this out...
Ole Miss at Auburn
Normally I’d use this space to go down a laundry list of reasons why we all hate Ole Miss. Which, if we’re being honest, sure we all hate everybody we play to a certain extent, but hating Ole Miss requires a lot of work that I just don’t have in me. Also because our losses to Ole Miss typically come on some of the more forgettable seasons in Auburn Football history. Except one.
On November 8, 2003 the Ole Miss Rebels, ranked 20th in the country came to the Plains with a quarterback by the name of Eli Manning in tow, a national television audience from CBS, and hopes for an SEC Championship. Meanwhile Auburn, ranked in the preseason at #6 in the country, came into the game at 5-3, attempting to salvage a potentially lost year and stay hopeful for a chance at getting to Atlanta. This was set to be a tremendous showdown between the greatest Ole Miss quarterback in a generation (literally) and an Auburn offense that had found some rhythm after an 0-2 start, and featured a fierce backfield of Carnell “Cadillac” Williams, Ronnie Brown, and Brandon Jacobs.
As the game went back and forth into the 4th quarter, Auburn had pulled ahead 20-17 until less than 3 minutes to go when Ole Miss punched it through to take a 24-20 lead. 3 plays into Auburn’s next, and last drive, a sophomore receiver named Ben Obomanu caught a screen pass and raced 51 yards to the 10 yard line. Auburn was within striking distance with plenty of time and a chance to contend deep into November (somehow) in the SEC West.
3 plays later, on 3rd and goal, a lesser player...no, a lesser person, would have let this moment define their career. Ben Obomanu had dropped a wide open ball in the south end zone that would’ve been a huge momentum clinching game for a team in desperate need of it. Sadly, the player responsible for getting us into position to win the game was at the center of blame for why we lost.
Obomanu grew up a few minutes after that moment, choosing to face the media and take ownership over what happened, like someone with maturity beyond their years. Any feeling of finger pointing in the locker room wouldn’t stand up to the integrity and character that Obomanu showed that day.
My question to you all is this...when you think of Ben Obomanu, is the Ole Miss game the first thing that comes to your mind? Because I have a few moments that far outweigh him coming up short that night in Jordan-Hare.
I think about a screen pass early against Alabama a few weeks later, letting the Tide know they were never going to have hope at momentum as we took out a season of frustrations on a hapless Crimson Tide. The hurt and pain from weeks earlier in the south end zone had been redeemed.
I think of the wide receiver who never got the picture painting like Courtney Taylor against LSU in 2004, but managed to lead the undefeated and uncrowned 2004 Auburn Tigers in TD receptions
I think about opening the floodgates on the opening drive of the 2005 Iron Bowl with a TD reception. I think about a flawlessly executed reverse go 45 yards to pay dirt, giving him his second score of that wonderful afternoon. Both of those touchdowns being celebrated in the south end zone served to further distance any shred of failures on that same part of grass 2 years prior.
I think of the Selma native getting drafted in the 7th round of the NFL Draft by the Seattle Seahawks and lasting the better part of 7 seasons in the NFL.
I think of the man that upon retirement chose to go back to school to work and ultimately obtain his law degree.
I think about the guy sitting in Brother Chette’s office as I walked into it, a freshman, non-student athlete, hurting and in need of encouragement and going to one of the few people on Auburn’s campus who had a personal relationship with me and cared. Brother Chette was on the phone when I walked in. And there was Ben, a real, legitimate leader in the locker room and FCA, with a smile on his face as genuine as I’d ever seen. Ben had no reason to care about me or talk to me. He was a senior football player who I viewed as a legend. And yet there was this humble kid from Selma, just shooting the breeze without a care in the world with a broken, depressed, and lost kid trying to figure too much out all at once. I think about that act of kindness most.
So on this 2019 version of Ole Miss week, let’s remember Ben Obomanu, a sophomore who put us in position and then made a mistake. Let’s remember that a moment in time doesn’t have to be the memory we hold closest by the time this brief moment in the players’ lives are through. And let’s believe that for every painful moment we had in Gainesville and Baton Rouge in October, that the defining moment of this team is in front of them. They haven’t played their best game...YET.
War Damn Eagle.
(Also if you’d like to read more detail about that 2003 Ole Miss game, please go read this excellent piece from Wesley Sinor a few years back.)
Florida vs. Georgia (Jacksonville)
Ah Jacksonville. The most spacious parking lot in America. This is a super fun game to go to if you hate both of these teams, even if you’re dressed in a Gene Chizik inspired shacket!
Even if it means you end up losing a pain of sunglasses to the Atlantic all for the sake of a joke. :(
ANYWAY...common sense, decency, and the downright ethical and moral thing to do in this game is to pull for Georgia...to absolutely get their ass kicked. I know I know...we all hate Dan Mullen for somehow getting a Mississippi State problem to somehow become an Auburn issue in 2010. And that loss a few weeks back still stings. And there’s even some logic in wanting to be the ones to ruin Georgia’s season by handing them their second loss, all but ensuring they miss a chance at the national championship for (as of 11/1/19 at 5:03 PM) the 14,182nd day...not including roughly 23 hours and 49 minutes.
I mean, sure! That sounds great! But let’s think about this...what if we don’t end up winning that game? You really want that kind of pressure on this bunch right now? Wouldn’t it also be pretty great to see a deflated Georgia walk into Jordan-Hare with nothing to play for and not a care in the world because of some false sense of entitlement that they’ve had for 14,182 days, 23 hours, and 51 (now) minutes? I want to watch this team get buried, dug up, kicked, and buried again.
GO GATORS!
Seriously, don’t pull for Georgia. These people deserve bad things, and they deserve them all the time.
Mississippi State at Arkansas
Y’all I’m gonna be honest with you and say that you can go ahead and root for whoever you want here...just know that one or both of these coaches will probably not be coaching at either of these schools soon. For that reason the comedy of it seems like State winning and maybe getting their fanbase hopeful is the best way to crush a soul, since Arkansas has been numbed to all of this for a while.
Hail State?
UAB at Tennessee
I picked Tennessee to win this game because they’re playing better. They should be able to outlast a C-USA team, right? But OH MAN am I pulling hard for the Blazers here. There’s few things that would make me happier than seeing UAB find a way to beat Tennessee. And CAN YOU IMAGINE THE T-SHIRTS IF THEY WERE TO DO IT BY MORE POINTS THAN THE TIDE?!? Please let it be so.
GO BLAZERS!
Have a different perspective on where our rooting interests lie this weekend or want to throw in some games of your own that you have some personal hate invested into? Feel free to share in the comments section below!
from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/11/2/20944319/rootability-index-vol-4
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Linger (5)
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 Based on: this imagine Warnings: allusions to abuse, violence, and PTSD. Character: Loki, Kay Hemlock (OC) Notes: This isn’t concretely based in the MCU in terms of preciseness. I’ve merely created a story line going off of the end of Thor 2 and what in my head happens when Loki is found out. If you have issues with accuracy and continuity, then be prepared for this to be out of sync.
Kay was once more standing on the safe side of the one-way glass. Within the cell, Loki had received his requested luxuries and it almost gave her a sense of hope. He seemed content as he laid across his bench, his head propped up on the velvet pillows and a book held over his nose as his eyes whisked across the pages. She had not been sure what titles he enjoyed, or if he even knew of any Midgardian works, but Tony has proffered his personal collection of Shakespeare. The smirk on his face betrayed that he believed he was being funny.
As it was, the demigod appeared to enjoy his copy of Othello, his lips moving slightly every so often as he turned the pages. Kay tapped her fingers on the edge of the control panel and her stomach churned anxiously as she prolonged the inevitable. Bruce swiveled his chair towards her, pulling forth the bracelet and waiting for her to offer her wrist.
“Best we don’t forget it this time,” He snapped it around her arm with the wry remark, “You shouldn’t have gone in there without it…or without us.”
“I had Thor,” She countered and lowered her arm, “I was fine.”
“Lucky,” Natasha huffed as she examined her nails, “Loki may play games but it doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.”
“You think I don’t realize that?” Kat replied with exasperation, “I know, trust me.” She recalled how afraid she had been when Loki had seized her the day before, though he had been far from violent.
“You’re too nice for your own good,” Tony grumbled as he looked through the window with a scowl, “And persuasive. To think I should furnish this villain’s comfort.”
“He might be an ass but he’s human…well, not really, but he has similar needs.” Kay argued as she shook her head, “Look, if we want to get anywhere with Loki, we can’t feed into his hate. That gets us nothing and it sure doesn’t make my job any easier.”
“I guess,” Tony rolled his eyes and turned to her, “Well, better get to it then. Your job, that is.”
“Yes, better,” Kay muttered and took those vaunted steps towards the rounded doors, “Let’s hope he has been appeased by Shakespearian wit.”
The doors opened with their usual whisper and she stepped into the brightly lit hallway, her feet fell more confidently than before but she still felt uneasy. The second set of doors jolted into motion and revealed to her the cell, the demigod making no move to rise as she entered. He did not even look away from his book as she stopped in the middle of the room.
“Loki,” She spoke in the tense silence, “When you’re ready.”
He merely continued reading, revealing no hint of even realizing she was there. She crossed her arms and tapped her toe, waiting for him to do or say something but he remained inert. After a whole minute, seconds she counted in her head, she impatiently approached the bench and looked down at him with annoyance. Her hands went to her hips as she sighed and raised her brows.
“Are you going to get up or is our deal to be dissolved?” She challenged and the book before her dropped to the bench as Loki’s figure faded to air.
Kay stared down at the cover of Othello, her heart racing, jumping into her throat as a voice came from behind her.
“Men should be what they seem,” Loki recited as she turned to face him, “Or those that be not, would they might seem none!”
“Bravo,” Kay remarked dryly as he smirked at her. His dark hair was as sleek as ever and yet there was a manner about him which seemed softer, “You’ve begun with my favourite play.”
“A lucky guess,” He mused as he glanced at the stack of books beside his bench, “But truly, I began with Romeo and Juliet but found myself entirely disenchanted.”
“You would be,” She commented as she scoffed, “I suppose you feel a kindred bond with Iago.”
“On the contrary, this Othello, he is an admirable figure,” He flourished his hand theatrically, “Yet, so tragic.”
“Hmm,” Kay pondered him carefully, “He is. I personally preferred Cassio but he was destined to be a fool.”
“You Midgardians, you all read these books?” He asked curiously, his green eyes sparkling in the white light.
“Some of them,” She explained as she turned to pick up the copy of Othello, flipping through the pages, “Most read at least one in their lifetime. More often than not, they forego the better of the bunch.” She stopped on a particular page and read half from memory, “But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve. For daws to peck at. I am not what I am.”
“As I suspected, Kanontienentha,” Loki had neared without her notice and sat down upon the bench as she backed away, “Words written by another are not read without purpose. What is it that you hide so diligently?”
“Poetry sounds sweet, but is little more than fancy words,” She snapped shut the book and tossed it on the bench beside him, “Often we like the rhythm of words more than their meaning. Dishonesty comes swifter than truth.”
“Perhaps, but we cannot lie without betraying an ounce of the truth,” He contended and smirked as he set the book atop the pile, “Kanontienentha, I know you are dying to get to your little interrogation, but I have a few questions of my own. If you would humour me before we truly begin.”
“Have I not done enough?” She challenged, “You’ve got what you asked for.”
“One more favour,” He leaned back lazily as he spoke and she nodded, eager to be done with whatever joke he had in mind, “I know little of this world, I find much of it tedious. But there are rare features of it I find intriguing.” He ran his long fingers through his dark hair, “You being one of them, Kanontienentha, and not just because of that spark of fury you get when you’re with me.”
“Loki,” She sighed, “Get on with it.”
“See, there it is,” He chuckled before he carried on, “There is something about you, Kanontienentha. Unlike those other Midgardians I have encountered. And I do not mean the tragedy which had you in tears upon this very floor.”
“Loki, I mean it,” She felt her chest seize up as she recalled their previous meetings, “I thought we were past that.”
“For now,” He raised his hands in appeasement, “But tell me, Kanontienentha, a rather musical name, what does it mean?”
“Promise to answer my questions if I tell you,” She bartered sternly and he bowed his head in ascent, “Fine, it is Mohawk for ‘she pushes mountains’. It is of my mother’s native tongue.”
“Delightful,” He drawled, “And fitting.”
“Okay, Loki, I won’t fall for your simpering, so let’s move on,” She exhaled and shifted on her feet, “Forgive me if it is difficult for me to believe anything you say.”
“Believe what you want,” He shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, “I’ve promised to answer your questions, but I cannot guarantee you’ll hear what you want to.”
“That’s for me to decide,” Kay rubbed her forehead as she thought; Loki’s constant gaze was starting to make her sweat, “So, first question: did you always know you were different? Or at least, did you always feel like you were?”
“No, I didn’t always know I was a Frost Giant,” He replied bluntly as his lips twitched, “I thought you would know that by now.”
“That’s not what I meant,” She corrected and chewed the inside of her cheek, “What I mean is, when you were younger, did you feel different? Like you were isolated? Separate from others? That you did not think like them? That you could not relate?”
“Ugh, what does this matter?” He said evasively and looked away at last, his smirk falling away.
“It matters because I’m asking,” Kay asserted, “And because you won’t answer me.”
Loki shook his head as his eyes dropped to his boot, examining the pointed toe as if it were a piece of art he was trying to decipher. He breathed out in a near silent sigh as his brows knitted and she could see the thoughts clashing behind his emerald irises. His lips pursed as he looked up at her once more and uncrossed his legs.
“Yes, I do not know why the answer matters to you, but yes, I have always felt innately distinct from those around me,” Kay could tell that he was trying to conceal the emotions of his confession, “Perhaps, it was merely a feeling of superiority. Entitlement, even. Or perhaps, deep down, I knew that I was not the same as them. That my blood truly set me apart.” He scoffed darkly as he avoided her eyes and his jaw tensed visibly. “Happy?”
“In a way,” She accepted victoriously, “You know, Loki, I never thought you’d actually carry through on it. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Had what in me?” He challenged with a tilt of his head.
“Honesty? Integrity?” She returned pointedly despite herself, “It seems all this,” She gestured to his newly acquired possessions, “Was worth it.”
“Oh?” He lifted a brow and once more his form dissolved into air, “Was it?”
Loki stood behind Kay, his warm breath grazing her hair as her body went rigid and she sensed him leaned down so that he lips were next to her ear. “Weighest thy words before thou givest them breath.”
“Loki,” Kay breathed his name as she felt her blood run cold, “Don’t do this.”
“Do what?” He challenged, the tip of his nose touching her ear as he slowly stepped away, “I truly appreciate the kindness you’ve shown me,” He walked around her and faced her once more, “I would not toss it all away so soon. Are we not making some progress?”
“I would dare to hope,” She grumbled as she watched him warily, “Shall we continue?”
“Well, I’ve answered a question, the bare minimum of what I promised,” He grinned and slowly backed up to recline upon his bench, “I think I’ve divulged enough for today…if you should like to remain for a reading of the final act,” He lifted up the volume of Othello, “I believe it should be rather compelling.”
“No, thank you,” Kay frowned, knowing she would get little more from the demigod and hesitant to press her luck, “It is a lovely finale, but one I’ve read before.”
“At your pleasure,” He waved his hand in dismissal and opened the book, beginning his recitation in an unwavering rhythm, “Here, stand behind this bulk, straight will he come. Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home.” Kay turned and approached the door, looking to the window as she waited for them to open, “Quick, quick! Fear nothing...”
The metal barriers parted and she stepped into the corridor, the drone of Loki’s voice dulling as it closed behind her. The unexpectedly peaceful encounter with the villain echoed in her head and she wondered if perhaps she had missed something. The demigod always had a trick up his sleeve but what it was, she could not guess at.
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seriouslyhooked · 7 years
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Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 5/?
When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.
Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here. Also On FF Here.
A/N: Okay so finally after a little time away I am back with this story and I have to say I am so thrilled to be writing it again. It’s just such a fun universe to play with, and this chapter in particular will have the benefit of some Emma and Killian time alone as well as all the Henry meddling I’ve put in place so far. I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading!
If only my brother could see me now, Killian thought to himself as he took in the mass of food and ingredients that surrounded him and wondered how the devil he’d gotten himself into this.
Obviously he knew the answer; what he desired more than anything was to spend more time with Emma, and when he offered the invitation this morning this had seemed the best way to procure that. Yet now with the benefit of hindsight Killian could see just how much more he’d taken on than was probably wise. It was one thing to invite a woman and her young, rambunctious son to dinner. It was another thing to cook the meal himself and somehow learn a skill set he’d never really tried to dabble with over the first thirty years of his life.
In another situation, Killian would have considered getting food from somewhere else and bringing it here. He wouldn’t masquerade and pretend it had been the work of his own hand, but he would potentially spare them all a rather unappetizing and poorly concocted meal. Unfortunately this town boasted very few dining establishments and the most notable one just so happened to belong to the woman he was (rather pathetically) trying to impress. And so it was that his only choice was to make the best of a self-inflicted, bad situation.
“‘Use meat hammer, roller, thinner, or pounder to create uniform filets.’ Bloody hell,” Killian muttered to himself shaking his head as he tried to make heads or tails of these instructions. “Seems you need a whole arsenal to make a meal… who knew?”
That last question was largely personal but the little ball of fluff that had taken up residence with Killian as of late purred all the same. Luna had a habit of doing that, and though Killian hadn’t been used to caring for a pet before arriving in Storybrooke he smiled at the tiny feline who had become a touchstone of his life here. It was nice to have the company, even if his current companion had no idea how to aid him in this mess he’d made for himself.
At that moment a knock sounded at the back door and though Killian was hardly in any shape to answer, he tried to get himself somewhat righted on the off chance that Emma and Henry had decided to come early. But when he opened the door, Killian found only the latter smiling eagerly and then biting back a laugh as he took in Killian’s less than put together appearance.
“Henry, this is a surprise. Is everything all right?” Killian’s immediate thought was that maybe there was something wrong with Emma. Perhaps she and Henry wouldn’t be joining him for dinner after all, but Killian hoped that wasn’t the case. The thought that he wouldn’t get the chance to spend the evening with them was a sorry prospect indeed.
“I think I should be asking you that. Let me guess – you invited us over but you have no idea how to cook,” Henry said as he popped into the house, not even waiting for an invitation. Killian meanwhile watched him go, finding that despite the intrusion he was happy for Henry’s being here. Suddenly the house seemed a lot less empty, and he had a bit more hope about what the hell he was going to do when it came to this whole cooking thing.
“I have an idea,” Killian professed as he followed Henry. “It’s just vague and largely incorrect.”
Henry laughed at the characterization as he walked into the kitchen. When he made it there, however, he abruptly halted, his jaw falling open in shock before he let out a low whistle and shook his head.
“Woah. We’re in worse shape than I thought. It’s like a tornado went off in here.”
That was probably putting it mildly. In all those movie renditions or TV illustrations of cooking attempts gone wrong, Killian had always thought that the dustings of flour and the gratuitous messes that amounted were for show, but he was a living demonstration that some people really were that out of their depths.
“Aye. I think it’s safe to say this kitchen has seen better days.”
“That’s okay. We can fix this. And if we can’t there’s always grilled cheese,” Henry offered kindly as Killian chuckled thinking back to David’s similar comment this afternoon. Clearly Emma must be rather vocal in her favoring of that particular delicacy if everyone was so mindful of it. “Looks like your making chicken parmesan. That’s pretty easy. Mom and I have made that together loads of times. But I’ve never seen a recipe like this one. Where’d you get this?”
Killian motioned to the cover of the book, which bore some pompous name about international classics in food. Henry just snorted and shook his head again, his brown hair flopping around as he did. It was clear from his expression and demeanor that he was hardly impressed and after spending the better part of thirty minutes being thrown for loop after loop, Killian wasn’t impressed with the bloody thing either.
“Yeah this isn’t going to work. Mom’s recipe is way easier. You stay here, I’ll go get it.”
“Oh you don’t have to do that lad-,” Killian started but Henry was already gone, bounding out the door with Killian just staring after him. He ran a hand through his hair muttering to himself about how he was in so far over his head, but then Henry was back in under two minutes with a sheet of paper in hand and a grin that was infectious enough to drive away that remaining doubt.
“Operation Save Dinner is going great so far! Come on, we’ve only got a little time left and if I have to teach you everything this could take a while.”
From there the going, though slow, was far steadier than it had been before, and with Henry at the helm of the ship, Killian began to believe they could actually get something done that would be edible in time for Emma’s arrival. More than that though the hour that they spent cooking and tidying up proved to Killian something that he’d already learned this week and through the course of the morning gardening: Henry Swan was a special lad and bright as any child Killian had ever met. In fact, Killian hadn’t a single other contender in mind for kids as impressive as Henry Swan. Henry was truly in a class all his own.
“You know you really aren’t so bad at this,” Henry said when they’d gotten all of the food in the oven and most of the counters cleaned up. “I’d say you’re right between Anna and Elsa on the chef scale.”
Killian had had some more interactions with Elsa since moving here and had met her sister Anna a few times as well, both at the café when he was making his morning visits to the shop (or really to Emma) and at other spots around town. They were both of them incredibly kind if a little quirky, but at the end of the day it was easy to see why Emma had chosen them as friends and why she trusted both women with the keeping of her son when the need arose. There was a goodness in both of them that was evident from the start, just as there were with so many other people Killian had met in Storybrooke so far.
“Ah, I take it the sisters aren’t as well versed in cooking as your mother is.”
Killian honestly doubted anyone was as good of a cook as Emma, especially given all the things he’d tried at Stay a Spell over the last few weeks. She was a natural talent, and if Ruby’s claims that nearly all the food was Emma’s recipe and made or prepped by her hand was true, then he didn’t even think it possible for Emma to make a bad dish if she tried. It was astounding that anyone should have such a gift and that the gift was confined to so small a place as this sleepy town in Maine.
“Hardly. Anna’s okay with a little time, and she makes real good mac and cheese as long as it’s from the box, but Elsa’s a disaster. Ruby and Mary Margaret say she’s the only reason Storybrooke has a fire department. She could set water on fire.”
“Luckily I haven’t had that problem yet, but not to worry there’s still time.”
Henry laughed outright at the joke and his smile was so bright and cheery that Killian could practically feel that boyish happiness coursing through him too. It had been a long time since he’d felt this at peace, and even with the nerves of Emma’s impending arrival and the fact that they weren’t quite out of the woods with all this cooking, Killian did feel like this was good. Honestly it was probably one of the best days he’d ever had and it was all shaping up to get better and better.
“Well lad, I can safely say that this never would have been possible without your expert captaining. How can I ever repay you?” Killian asked, truly meaning his appreciation when he voiced it.
A light came to Henry’s eyes as he pondered the possibility of Killian owing him a favor, and for a moment Killian wondered what exactly he’d just walked into offering an unlimited debt to be paid to a ten year old, but then Henry replied, surprising and delighting Killian at the same time.
“You can take me and Mom sailing sometime.”
“Deal,” Killian agreed before qualifying that with one amendment. “As long as your mother is amiable to the idea.”
“Amiable?” Henry asked and Killian chuckled before offering a synonym. This was hardly the first time Henry had taken issue with some of Killian’s wording choices and so he was well prepared for the moment.
“As long as she’s in, I’m in.”
“Great!” Henry said jumping up and giving Killian a high five in show of his approval. “Now, when she and I get here in twenty minutes I was never here, got it?”
“You were – what?!” Killian asked, only just realizing that perhaps all of this hadn’t been entirely above board. Bloody hell! Why hadn’t he checked with Henry or Emma that this had been approved by her? “Your mother doesn’t know you’re here?”
“Nope. But don’t worry, I’ve got a fool proof system,” Henry said waving the shell Killian had noticed he had in his pocket the whole time. He didn’t know what that was to mean exactly, but it mattered not. He was still too stunned about having maybe been complicit in keeping something from Emma that he let that slide. “She’ll never know the difference.”
With that announcement, Henry looked ready to bound out of the house but before he could depart Killian grabbed his arm, not with too much force but enough for Henry to stop and take heed of what he was going to say. Killian couldn’t quite describe the feeling he had but it wasn’t wholly unfamiliar. In fact he’d had a bit of this kind of protectiveness when he thought Emma was in danger in the kitchen, but this time it was different. Henry was only a boy and though he and Emma might have found a lovely little safe haven in Storybrooke, danger could come to any corner of the world and it just wasn’t right for Henry to be slipping away without telling his mother.
“I need you to promise me something Henry – no more of these visits without your mother’s consent, all right?”
For a second Henry looked sad and it was the first time that Killian had ever seen that brightness in the lad’s gaze dulled at all. Usually Henry was so vibrant and eager but right now he looked thoroughly distraught. 
“You don’t want me coming over here anymore?” Killian shook his head immediately to try and dispel that notion.
“Quite the opposite lad I assure you,” Killian said and Henry’s smile returned instantly setting Killian’s own worries somewhat to right. “I merely want to be sure that you’re not keeping secrets from your Mum. There’s no one else who loves you more and the only way she can see you truly safe and happy is to know where you are.”
“I guess you’re right,” Henry conceded, prompting Killian to expel a sigh of relief. “All right, from now on all operations will have me, you, and Mom.”
Killian grinned and nodded watching Henry steal out the back door once more and only when the boy was gone did he realize the particular words Henry had chosen. Maybe Henry hadn’t meant anything by it, but it made it seem like he was tying the three of them together always, not just in these little visits. It was probably foolish to hope that had been the lad’s intentions but Killian held the idea close, letting the hope for a more permanent attachment between the three of them linger for just a while longer.
The twenty minutes that it took for Emma and Henry to arrive felt like it took forever despite all the things Killian still had to distract himself like showering and changing for the evening. He had to get all of the food out of the oven, the refreshments ready, and the table set too, but even with all that Killian’s mind never wandered from Emma or the excitement he had about this evening. Sure there was the added complication of Henry’s having been here without Emma knowing (and Killian did intend to tell her that since he’d never promised Henry not to and because it wouldn’t be right to conceal it from her), but overall Killian was hoping the evening would still be pleasant and since he would be in the company of one Emma Swan, he didn’t see how it could possibly be anything but.
Finally the doorbell rang some time later, and though he held himself back and didn’t outwardly race towards the door, Killian did move swiftly and with purpose so as to get to this moment as fast as he could. It didn’t disappoint at all either, for when he pulled back the wooden barrier that separated him from his two favorite people in this new town, the first thing he saw was Emma, looking just as stunning and enchanting as she did every time their paths crossed.
“You made it,” Killian greeted, his gaze moving between Emma and Henry though it delayed a while longer on the former. Not that that surprised Killian. It seemed his natural reaction whenever Emma was near that his eyes should follow her and soak up all he could of the precious time he had with her.
“Sure did! And we brought dessert,” Henry said, handing Killian a box with the Stay A Spell logo stamped on top. Killian took it from the boy gladly and then let them both in, allowing Henry to run in in search of Luna as Emma hung back, stepping closer to Killian as he closed the door and filling his senses with that sweet, rich scent of vanilla and flowers he’d noticed each time they were this near.
“Clearly Henry’s very excited to be here,” Emma said and Killian chuckled even as he begged a question that might be deemed overly flirtatious.
“And you love? What are your thoughts on sharing dinner with me?”
Emma’s eyes widened at the question as if she hadn’t expected it, but she didn’t back away. Instead she actually took a half a step closer to him and then let her voice drop just a bit lower than it’s already existent silkiness.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Emma asked and Killian nodded, his blood humming with pleasure at the reminder.
“Aye Swan you are, and I’m more than glad for it.”
The once playful back and forth took on deeper meaning then, and there was a swirling tension around them that was far from unpleasant. It felt almost like this crackling kind of energy and Killian was tantalized by it even as he knew it wouldn’t evolve to anything more right now. This was a strictly PG kind of evening given Henry’s presence, and though Killian had thought about what it would be like to pull Emma close and press a kiss to those lush lips of hers before, now was hardly the time. He still allowed his eyes to flick down to her mouth though and when she bit one in reply he barely restrained a groan.
“Henry told me what happened earlier,” Emma said, pulling Killian from the trance and back into the moment. He might have begun to worry at the mention of it too, if it weren’t for the undeniable warmth in Emma’s green eyes. “And he told me what you said about how he should come to me first every time instead of just sneaking off.”
“It seemed only right,” Killian replied but Emma wasn’t willing to let this discussion fall away between them. Instead she reached out her hand and found Killian’s free one, bringing back that all too alluring current of heat and rightness that Killian was beginning to think would be common place with a woman like Emma.
“It was, and I just needed to say thank you. Henry’s always been… crafty you could say. He has all those secret missions of his, but as his Mom nothing scares me more than him running off and getting into real trouble.”
Killian could see the truth of that claim as Emma said the words and he hated the thought of Emma facing anything like fear at all. But though he might not know all the particulars of who Emma Swan was or what she’d been through in the past, he did know that it hadn’t all been the colors and warmth and brightness of a town like Storybrooke. This was a woman who had cause to be wary, and though she’d provided a very different world for Henry, her need to protect him from harsher realities would never fade.
“There’s no thanks needed, love. It’s clear to see how much you love him, and as long as I have any influence I’ll always implore Henry to do the right thing,” Killian replied, squeezing Emma’s hand lightly before leading her back over the kitchen. Their hands stayed intertwined too right up until the moment that Henry bounded back in with Luna hot on his trail.
“Hey Killian, after dinner we should make a fire outside. Then you can see the fireflies!”
“Fireflies?” Killian asked. “This time of year?”
“Henry I don’t know about that, buddy. There’s no guarantees -,” Emma began, but her son interrupted as if he couldn’t possibly hold back.
“Trust me their coming,” Henry replied completely assured of himself and while Emma seemed a bit uncomfortable, Killian sought to ease the tensions. Perhaps she though Henry was putting him out, but honestly all Killian could think was that it would give him an excuse to spend more time with both of them.
“Well in that case I think a fire’s well in order. What do you think, Swan?”
Emma hesitated a moment, and Killian could see the thoughts floating through her head. He didn’t know exactly what they were, but he was happy for the moment when she seemed to cling to one that was light and appeasing. The teasing lilt in her voice returned once more and easiness was back between the three of them again.
“You sure you won’t get sick of us? Maybe we’ll finish dinner and you’ll be desperate for a way out…” As if that would ever happen.
“Not a chance, love,” Killian affirmed, hoping that she understood how much he meant that.
“Yeah Mom, ‘not a chance.’”
Both Emma and Killian shared a laugh at the attempt Henry made at emulating Killian’s accent, but Killian could feel diversion was still in order and so he maneuvered them all to the kitchen so as to get all that they’d need for dinner. And in a not so shocking twist, it turned out that the easiness between the three of them remained at that dinner spent together was the most natural, enjoyable, and delightful way to have spent an evening that Killian could ever remember indulging in.
…………..
To say that dinner had been fantastic didn’t do tonight justice. It wasn’t because the food itself was spectacular (though in all fairness, Emma usually loved any meal that someone made for her with thoughtfulness and effort), but thanks entirely to the company. Sitting there in Killian’s house listening to Killian’s stories and interactions with Henry was amazing, and it left this feeling in Emma’s chest of warmth and total comfort. This should have been scaring her, but instead there was no room for fear. All Emma could think was that this had been a pretty perfect night and that she really didn’t want it to end.
For Emma this evening had also been a demonstration in just how lovely things might be if she actually let Killian in for real. If she were to let her guard down and give him a real chance there were just so many potential upsides, not the least of which was the easy dynamic between the two of them and Henry. There was never a moment in the whole course of the evening when Killian questioned Emma’s authority or when he encroached in on her bond with her son, but all through the meal Emma sat there and thought about how after years of denying it was needed, she might actually want someone to step in and be a father figure for Henry. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to actually have a partner in all of this and someone to make this little duo she had going with Henry grow into a more traditional kind of family.
“You’ve gone quiet, Swan. I assume you’re eagerly awaiting those lightening bugs of yours,” Killian said as he came back from starting the fire and took a seat just beside her on the deck, their bodies only inches apart and that same electricity stirring inside her again at Killian’s being so near.
The mention of the fireflies caused Emma’s stomach to flip suddenly and some of her anxieties reared their ugly heads once more. She had been so nervous in that moment where Henry mentioned them because it was kind of a suspicious thing. Fireflies never stayed this late in a season in this corner of the world, and their reason for being in Storybrooke had nothing to do with climate and everything to do with magic. They were a manifestation of peace and calm here but they weren’t exactly normal and Emma had been worried Killian would pry about why they were here or ask more questions, but even in this moment Emma knew he didn’t really care about the fireflies. What he cared about was filling the space between them with a comfortable feeling and keeping the flow of conversation they’d carved out for themselves going.
“I was just thinking you must have been a boy scout or something. How does a guy from New York City know how to start a fire that fast?”
“Research and a fair amount of luck,” Killian responded, causing Emma to laugh unabashedly. “Truth be told I googled it this afternoon on the off chance I could persuade you and Henry to stay longer. Your boy just happened to beat me to the invitation.”
The mention of Henry had Emma looking back out into the yard where her little boy was standing and waiting for the fireflies to appear. They were just at the perfect moment when the twilight was in full force and the sun was gone but light still lingered, slipping away a little more with each passing minute. Any second now Emma knew the first one would appear and the show would begin, and as if she’d willed them into coming out, Emma watched as the first yellow blip appeared at the far edge of the yard. Another joined just behind and soon the whole backyard was filled with the intriguing, swirling dots.
“It’s amazing,” Killian whispered, his mouth now close enough to Emma’s ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. It caused a shiver to course through her and she wanted so badly to look back at Killian but she resisted, loving the feeling of this building anticipation too much to let it go. “And he knew they’d come. You have to appreciate faith like that. It’s an admirable thing.”
“Sometimes as his Mom I worry about that, but once Henry sets his heart on something, he never shakes his belief.”
That wasn’t something Emma had ever told anyone before, at least not in so many words. Everyone in Storybrooke knew that Henry was a believer. Some of the older ladies actually called him ‘the truest believer’ which according to Belle had some old magical connotations of good luck and good fortune, but Emma’s friends always wrote Henry’s dreaming and belief off as some unexplained ability that would further reveal itself in time.
Emma, meanwhile, knew there had to be a line. At some point, she feared, Henry’s giving so much of himself to these often fantastical hopes would come back to hurt him, and as his mother Emma wanted nothing in the world to ever cause her child harm. She just didn’t know how to teach him to channel all his enthusiasm. She never wanted to diminish that childlike wonder Henry had in spades, but for someone who’d lost her faith from a very early age, there were just no clear-cut answers.
“Well love, some things you just know,” Killian replied and Emma turned from where she’d been watching her son to look back at Killian. His eyes were already on her as if he’d been watching her the whole time, and their deep blue color was livened up by the flickers of firelight that danced in them. “And I gather that though he might be inclined to be almost overly hopeful, Henry is smart enough and gifted with a sensible enough mother to weather any storms that may come from such belief.”
“Have you always been this insightful?” Emma asked and Killian smiled, not in that cocky way he sometimes did but with a touch more bashfulness.
“I’ve always had a lot of opinions, yes. Whether they amount to valuable insight I couldn’t say.”
“Are those opinions what got you on the path to writing?” Emma asked, finding that now that they were alone for more than a minute or two at a time she actually had the chance to ask Killian some more details about his life besides the few things she’d picked up in their more organic, spur of the moment meetings.
“In a way. But I’m particular. I liked the puzzles of the crime beat just as much as I liked finessing my thoughts onto the page. You could say I have a flair for unraveling mysteries.”
Emma’s throat tightened at the mention of mysteries, and she wondered if Killian had started adding up the clues of the little things that were off about Storybrooke. She worried that he had, but before those worries could flourish into something more, Killian moved his hand over hers and that contact erased the darker thoughts that had wormed into Emma’s mind. It was amazing, but every time this man got close it was as if there simply wasn’t room in her world for malice or fear of any kind.
“You must be bored then,” Emma said, playing it off like there was nothing afoot in her small town.
“On the contrary love. I’ve never felt more invigorated or more interested in my life,” Killian whispered, and Emma knew they weren’t talking about his dealings with Storybrooke. Killian was talking about her and the look on his face said all the words that he hadn’t. He found her to be intriguing and all of the feelings Emma had been grappling with about how there was something more here between them to be uncovered were clearly displayed in Killian’s expression.
“Why?”
Emma didn’t even realized she posed the question aloud until it was too late, and for half a second she was mortified, but as soon as that ugly feeling appeared it was replaced by appreciation for Killian’s responding grin. His other hand moved up then to push back a strand of her hair that was blowing in the nighttime breeze and Emma tracked the motion, feeling her body come alive even more so at the gentle touch.
“Because for the first time in my life I finally feel like I’ve found something I truly want to be a part of. I’ve a purpose here and a sense that there’s more when for so long that was never the case.”
Emma considered his answer, and beyond the obvious implications he was laying down here of caring about her and Henry and this town, there was something familiar in Killian’s way of thinking. She could relate whole-heartedly to that idea of being directionless. For so long Emma had felt unmoored like that as well, and all she’d wanted was roots and that sense of assurance you got when you ended up right where you were supposed to be. Now she’d found that in Storybrooke, but Emma was starting to see that her world hadn’t been totally full. It was still missing something, something that tonight had provided so effortlessly.
“Killian, I-,”
“Woah!” Henry’s yell from across the yard pulled Emma and Killian from the little trance they’d both been in and after she blinked back that sort of haze of attraction, Emma saw what her son was on about. The yard was jam packed with fireflies, so many of them in fact that there wasn’t a single space around that didn’t have their telltale flickering lights illuminating the evening sky. “This is so awesome! You guys have to see this from right here, come on!”
Emma and Killian both moved to follow Henry’s instruction, and though Emma did feel a sense of loss at having had their personal moment broken, it was easily made up for when she not only got to watch the back and forth between Henry and Killian, but when Killian took her hand and held it in his as they looked up at the night sky. And in the end Henry was right, because from this angle they could see the stars that were just appearing and the lightening bugs twinkling between them in a totally ethereal way.
“Everybody has to make a wish,” Henry instructed as he took Emma’s other hand in his, closing his eyes and clearly hoping for something with all his might. Emma meanwhile looked back at Killian who shared a smile with her before replying.
“You heard the captain, love. Wishes are a must.”
Emma chuckled at that and at the moment when Killian closed his eyes, appearing to play along, and though she took a moment to take in her son and this man who was starting to mean so much to her, Emma eventually caved too, deciding to actually send up a silent prayer that tonight wouldn’t be an end to such experiences, but a beginning of them. When she opened her eyes again, Killian was looking at her again with that same look like even in this wondrous moment she was the most magnificent part of all.
“Best night ever,” Henry said then, filling the space between them with his same sort of glowing happiness and Emma smiled at him, pulling him in close for a hug and dropping a kiss at the crown of his head to try and hide her own overwhelming emotion.
Eventually, however, the time did come for the fireflies to drift away, and when the fire burned low and the hour grew late Emma made the decision that it was time to tuck in and call it a night. Henry was good about it too, not even trying to fight her but instead proving just how great a kid he was by thanking Killian for all he’d done and heading back inside without argument or delay. This left Emma and Killian alone again just the two of them, and though their window of togetherness would be brief, Emma was thrilled when Killian made the most of it, walking with her to the steps of her back porch in a very gentlemanly move.
“We should do this again sometime,” Killian said with his usual charm and touch of swagger. But underneath the vibrato, Emma could tell that he really wanted this. It wasn’t a game or a line or an empty promise; Killian was genuinely desirous for more and Emma so badly wanted to give it to him. For the first time in her life she actually felt ready to give in to hope and to just say yes.
“Maybe next time I’ll get a babysitter,” Emma replied taking the plunge and watching with delight as Killian caught her meaning. God, how could he even be handsome when flustered? It was enough to drive her crazy, and yet Emma wouldn’t trade that look of surprise and awe he was giving her for anything.
“Is that your way of asking me on a date, Swan?” Killian inquired, collecting himself a bit more as he did.
“I thought that was obvious,” Emma countered, playing up the flirtation but feeling the moment when the tides shifted again. Killian took the chance to step closer to her so they were only a whisper apart. But the only place they touched was their hands as Killian slipped her fingers back in his grasp and intertwined the two of them together in that familiar yet intimate way.
“Just making sure,” Killian replied as an almost roguish smile graced his lips. “And I accept. I only beg one request – that you let me plan the evening.”
Emma tilted her head at the plea and she took him in, her eyes searching his before tracing his face and landing on his lips. Visions of kissing him flooded her mind, and without thought she wet her own lips, swearing she could feel his heated response coursing through her like a low vibration. Then she looked back up at him and smiled, feeling in that moment that she could trust her gut and trust this man who held her close.
“Seems fair. After all I was the one who had to ask. The least you can do is plan,” Emma replied as she moved even closer. She purposefully brought her body as near as it could be without their being fully flush against each other and from the spark of piercing need that came to Killian’s blue eyes, she knew she was affecting him just as much as he affected her.
“I promise to make my slow going tendencies up to you with a date worthy of a woman such as yourself, Swan,” Killian whispered, his lips an inch from hers but right when she thought he’d give in and kiss her he stopped, keeping them from the embrace they both wanted for the sake of more delicious and oh so frustrating anticipation. “How’s Tuesday work for you?”
Emma blinked up at him and though her mind was a little foggy from the swirling mix of lust and like and a whole lot of other more complicated feelings, she came too once more and smiled. Then she countered with a move of her own, running her free hand along his chest lightly enough that it would feel like a feather’s touch against his skin. She watched his reaction to the feint contact and saw that his control was just on the verse of giving way but before it could she pulled back out of his embrace, leaving him with just as much unresolved need as she had.
“Tuesday it is. Goodnight, Killian.”
“Goodnight, Emma,” he said, his words wrapping around Emma like a favorite blanket as she walked up the stairs and through the doorway into her house once more.
Post-Note: So as you guys can probably guess from where we are ending tonight, the next chapter will bring about the first date for Emma and for Killian. You can all safely expect that I’ll make it as light and fluffy as I make all of the dates I write, but since this AU is a little different than many of my others, I’m sure there will be some interesting twists come the next installment. Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter, and again I appreciate your patience in waiting for the update. Let me know what you thought, and I hope you have a great rest of your day!
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thehikingviking · 5 years
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Mt Bago & Mt Rixford via Kearsarge Pass
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For Day 8 of the 2019 Sierra Challenge, Asaka and I decided to take a rest day and join Jim and Evan fishing. We woke up at the aforementioned time and knocked on the door of Evan’s RV. Evan was slow to get up, and mentioned that he hurt his leg and was unable to participate for the day. He invited us in and treated us to coffee as we waited for Jim. Evan wasn’t sure when Jim would arrive, and for some time I thought he changed his plans and wouldn’t show up at all, since some of the lakes near Onion Valley have had the trout within exterminated to help the endangered Sierra Nevada yellow-legged frogs. Jim eventually showed up and the three of us bade farewell to Evan. Our route started off following the Bubbs Creek Trail towards Kearsarge Pass, but after a quarter mile we took a right at the fork and followed the neglected trail up towards Golden Trout Lake and Dragon Peak Lakes. The trail passed through trimmed brush and then crossed the creek up loose and sandy slopes on the right side of a waterfall. I found myself sweating and breathing heavily. This was no rest day, but merely an easier day. We still had to gain 2,200 vertical feet to reach the lakes. We took a right at the fork in the canyon and later arrived at the lower of the two Dragon Peak Lakes.
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I rushed to set up my Tenkara, but was slowed down significantly when I lost my fly on one of the first few casts. Jim simply dropped his line into the water on the other side of a large rock and within seconds had a fish on. He pulled out a beautiful golden trout.
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After Jim’s success, the trout became wary and while many investigated our baits, we had no more bites. After at least an hour, we hiked up the canyon to the higher lake. Here we all had a ton of success with the brook trout.
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It was almost too easy. After I caught 5 different fish, I decided that was enough. I stopped by the lower lake for one more try at a golden, but still came up empty handed. After several hours of fishing, we hiked back down the canyon to the cars.
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I was well ahead of Jim on the hike out, but received a phone call in an area with service. While I was distracted, Jim covertly took a shortcut and beat us back to the cars to our surprise. We waited in the parking lot for people to come back from the day’s challenge peak of West Spur. Last year I thought East Spur was ludicrous but West Spur was even further. Cleménte was first to arrive followed by Scott and then Bob shortly after. It was a long day for most of the participants. We slept at Ray’s Den in Independence that night. Right before bed I checked my emails and received a note from Scott King. He informed me that he and his son Sean were returning to the challenge, and they planned to hike Mt Langley on Sunday. I invited them to join us for Mt Bago the next day, then went to sleep.
The next morning Asaka and I drove up to the trailhead. I had plans to do Mt Bago, which was a moderate 18 mile hike. As we drove to the trailhead, Asaka’s eyes filled with tears. She did not want to hike anymore. The challenge was over for her, and I was proud that she hiked as much as she did. It was my birthday, and I still wanted to hike, so at the trailhead I told her to head back down to the room and sleep in. I talked to Ken Yee the day before and he also expressed interest in Mt Bago, so I was confident I would have at least one hiking buddy. I found the gang at the trailhead before 6am, and as anticipated, Sean and Scott were present. They were eager to join, so we had a group of 4 heading to Mt Bago. We followed the trail up towards Kearsarge Pass, passing Gilbert, Flower and Heart Lakes along the way.
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As we approached the pass, Big Pothole Lake became visible beneath us. University Peak, which Asaka climbed during the 2018 Sierra Challenge, and Nameless Pyramid, which is expected to be on the 2020 Sierra Challenge, posed as a nice backdrop.
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Our pace was well matched with each other’s on the uphill. Sean and Scott were fresh, while Ken and I were acclimated. 
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We made it to the top of Kearsarge Pass in just over 2 hours where we took our first rest. Mt Bago was visible down the canyon.
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The Kearsarge Pinnacles stood in the foreground. South Guard, Mt Brewer and North Guard stood in the background.
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What ensued was a section of downhill until Vidette Meadow. Sean and I jogged down this section, as I felt this was easier on my knees, while Ken and Scott walked. Bullfrog Lake was a spectacular sight along the way.
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Sean and I took a rest at the end of the downhill section where there is a trail junction with the JMT and PCT. We continued across Vidette Meadow after Scott and Ken caught up.
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Mt Bago stood only a mile and a half away. I was pleasantly surprised to see how fast we were covering distance.
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There were several parties congregated in this area, most of which were backpackers. I felt proud telling them we were day hikers. From here we left the trail and continued cross country all the way until the summit. We passed through a forest that sprouted up from the granite slabs.
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Charlotte Lake appeared down below.
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We all got somewhat spread out in picking our own ways to the peak, but we eventually regrouped at the base of the mountain.
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I had debated with myself and the others about the best way to climb the final section of the peak, and at the end I decided to take the ridgeline on the right. The rock quality wasn’t very good, but it was bearable.
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Since we were making such good time, I started to think out loud about possible bonus peaks. Bago’s Friend seemed like the most obvious choice, however the summit block has a very exposed move and most people recommend bringing a short rope, which we did not have. I joked about climbing Mt Rixford, but Sean took me seriously. I knew that climbing this peak would add somewhere in the range of 2,000 extra vertical feet of gain, and my chances of feeling up for that later on were low.
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Sean and I were well ahead of the others as we gained the main ridgeline. We had some unpleasant loose sidehilling to contend with, and we ended up on top of a lingering snowfield just beneath the summit.
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Kings Canyon ran right beneath the peak.
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Sean and I pushed on and within a few more minutes we were on the summit. The peak was perched right in the middle of various deep canyons and impressive peaks.
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To the north was Mt Gardiner.
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To the northeast were Black Mountain, Glenn Pass and Mt Rixford.
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To the east were Mt Gould, Kearsarge Pass, University Peak and Mt Bradley.
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To the southeast were Mt Williamson, East Vidette and West Vidette. 
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To the south were Mt Jordan, South Guard, Mt Brewer and North Guard.
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To the west was Kings Canyon.
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Ken joined us next, followed by Scott a little later. The views from this peak were one of the best in the whole Sierra Nevada, and the effort was rather minimal in comparison to many of the other peaks in the area. I thought about Asaka, and wished that she could have joined us. With perfect weather, we spent longer than usual on the summit. With the idea of Mt Rixford materializing, we decided we better head down soon if we truly wanted to give it a try. I also wanted to be back in time for dinner at 6pm, of which I was the deputy organizer. We followed the northeast ridgeline down to the snowfield, and this time we hiked beneath it. It looked like a giant wave.
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With the slopes looking safe enough, we took a more direct route down to the bowl below. The boot skiing wasn’t great, but we shaved off time on the direct route.
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I walked down to the creek and filled up my waters without filtering. I took off my shoes and waited for the others. I considered jumping in the lake, but I decided against it in the interest of time.
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Mt Rixford came into view as we made our way back to the trail. It was clear that Sean wanted to go for it, but he needed permission from his father, who would not climb Mt Rixford himself. I knew that Scott would give him permission so long that I went with him. I had been in Sean’s shoes in the past, and not wanting to let him down, I informed the others that I would go for Mt Rixford. Sean promptly received the okay, and Ken gave me a piece of paper with a brief write up for Mt Rixford that he printed out prior to the hike. We left Scott and Ken to hike together back to the trailhead, while we hiked ahead to make good on time. 
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The route was straight forward enough. We would follow the class 2 south ridge. Knowing Sean would be fast, I got a head start and hiked up the steep sandy slopes and granite boulder piles.
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This climb was a bit of a slog, but at least the rocks weren’t loose. I felt confident we would make the summit so long as we remained patient.
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As we climbed higher, Mt Clarence King became visible to the northwest.
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Falcor Peak stood to our east. I suggested that this could be yet another bonus peak, however the rock quality looked really nasty. We had no beta on the route and I still hoped to make it back in time for dinner.
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The wind was blowing throughout our climb. I had really bad gas and I found myself apologizing to Sean quite frequently. He never admitted to smelling anything, however I am pretty sure he was just being polite. With a few hundred feet remaining, the rock quality became more fragmented, and what remained was a series of false summits to bypass.
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I made the climb more fun by finding an easy class 3 chimney up the final broken section of mountain.
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We made it to the summit a little after 2:30pm. It took us only 2 hours from Vidette Meadow. To the north were Rae Lakes and Fin Dome.
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To the northeast were Black Mountain, Mt Mary Austin and Dragon Peak.
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To the southeast were Mt Gould, University Peak and Mt Keith.
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To the south were Mt Tyndall, Junction Peak, Mt Stanford and Mt Ericsson.
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To the west was Kings Canyon.
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To the northwest were Mt Gardiner, Mt Cotter and Mt Clarence King.
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It felt great to summit this totally unplanned for bonus peak. I have to thank Sean for his enthusiasm and motivation. For our descent, we decided to head towards Falcor Peak at first, then follow the class 2 southeastern slopes back to the trail.
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At first the rock was really poor quality, but after taking things slowly, we got onto more solid ground and were able to boot ski for a large portion of the way down.
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Once at the treeline, we angled our way to the trail. On the way we passed by some devastation, which was most likely caused by either high winds or an avalanche.
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We had one fleeting view of Mt Rixford upon reaching the trail. Good views of this peak are often blocked by the other peaks in the area. 
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Now that we were back at the trail, I had to play several mental games to keep my mind off the remaining several hundred feet to the pass. I found the most effective strategy was to try and catch the hikers ahead of us.
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Right before the pass there were several deer seemingly out of place among the barren talus. We didn’t beat the two hikers to the pass, but we at least caught up to them there. We jogged and speed walked the remaining distance to the cars.
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I took the shortcut saving a few hundred meters and found Scott waiting in the parking lot. What a successful day! Scott gave me a ride back to Independence where we learned the bad news that the taco truck was closed. Instead we had Jim Burd organize a BBQ at Ray’s Den. I was mostly happy to be reunited with Asaka.
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At the barbecue, we celebrated my birthday and my 1,000th peak, which I summited two days prior. I was too tired to really talk to anyone. I just sat in the chair and ate my cake and watermelon.
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This hike ended my 2019 Sierra Challenge. I set off looking to hike more days (6) than the year prior (4), so I will chalk it up as a success. I look forward to trying to beat that number next year.
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I don’t know how I ended up at the Michigan Renaissance Festival, but once I heard bagpipes and a cannon go off, I felt right at home.
“Is there a quiet reading corner for people who get overwhelmed?” said A, as we braved the crowd piling into the festival grounds. It was Scottish Highlands week. I lost count of the number of kilts I saw, but two of them were on dogs, (unfortunately neither of them were the actual Scottish Wolfhound we saw but he looked like he was having a wonderful time in his element nonetheless) and one was on a guy who was also dressed as a bear.
I was nervous about bringing Lumi, but my sweet little anxiety fluffball who used to be so hesitant and skittish with strangers fit right into festival life. And everyone wanted to pet her! I couldn’t get five feet without being stopped—at one point Lumi had four kids with painted faces and princess costumes petting her, and she was basking in the love of her public like a movie star. She happily watched the joust and a bird show and even stopped for a drink at the Puppy’s Pub.
A tried her hand at archery and throwing knives, spears, stars, and axes. She passed on the opportunity to throw actual tomatoes at the jesters, because “I just don’t like wasting tomatoes.”
I started fading after about hour 5 of Celtic music and vendors saying “We take Master Card and Lady Visa!” (It was funny the first fifty times). I’d enjoyed our adventure, but didn’t feel the need to return.
Until I saw the sign for the Cupcake Crusade.
“Hmm, there’s a cupcake contest the last week of the festival,” I said.
A guy in chain mail pulled a wagon full of kids past us, and Lumi tried in vain to share their open bag of chips.
“First prize is $200 and a season pass, a sweatshirt and a tankard, second prize is the pass, sweatshirt and a tankard, third is the sweatshirt and tankard,” said A. “What’s a tankard? Like a tank top?”
“No, it’s that tall mug they have in the gift shop,” I said.
A slammed down her ice cream waffle.
“YOU GOTTA GET THAT TANKARD!” she said.
“We could just buy it in the gift shop,” I said.
“Anyone can do that!” said A. “And we’ll have a season pass for next year! We can bring your mom to the bird show for free!”
“I’m not going to win,” I said. “I don’t even make cupcakes.”
“You’ll win,” said A, like she was commanding an army. “You watch Bake-Off all the time! Your cupcakes will be the best! THE BEST!”
“That’s magical thinking!”
“That’s the only kind of thinking I have!”
Needless to say, as soon as we got home, I got to work. Even though I have actual real work that demands my actual real attention, all I could think about were cupcakes.
I needed 12 cupcakes in 3 flavors, that would be judged on both flavor and design. I don’t know how the people on Bake-Off select their recipes without freaking out: should I go for savory flavors to stand out? Or classic sweet flavors that might be boring? Should I try fruit fillings? Or nuts? OR BOTH? Did you know they sell fancy cupcake wrappers on Amazon with filigree designs? Should I buy those and go with a tribute to Art Nouveau in cupcake form? Or something a little less niche, like a design inspired by my favorite World Showcase pavilions at Epcot?
(Yes, these are all real ideas that I had. I know this because I made a spreadsheet of ideas when I should have been doing something else).
I wisely tabled my salute to silent film and chose two recipes inspired by the flavors of the fair—but then I got three hours of sleep because I couldn’t stop going over my options for the third spot. Could I pull off an ice cream waffle cupcake? Or something that would evoke both archery and roasted almonds? (Real ideas!)
Around 3 AM, it hit me—unicorns. The final piece in the thematic puzzle. There was a unicorn grilled cheese at this thing, how could I lose?
The mental gymnastics portion was complete. Now it was time for baking gymnastics. My test batches went well, thanks to the spreadsheet I made for ingredients, but when it was time to bake for the big day, my first batch of rainbows was a little less than fabulous, so I had to try again.
I baked 58 cupcakes in 24 hours. I became an assembly line of one person. To entertain myself while I worked, I imagined explaining my flavors to Mary Berry, and my imaginary Mary Berry was very supportive, especially once I cracked open a Guinness.
I called my first flavor “GOT Guinness?” because children of the ’90s will never, ever escape “Got milk?” jokes. I found the recipe here and it worked really well. I don’t know anything about beer or Guinness but A told me to buy Guinness Stout in a can, not a bottle, so that’s what I did. I had to simmer it on the stove with the butter and cocoa powder, which felt very dangerous, especially because I kept confusing the dials on my stove and almost setting myself on fire.
I forged my swords from the finest Valyrian aluminum foil while watching British Bake-Off and took solace in watching fellow gays struggle with math under pressure.
I dubbed my next flavor “Kettle Corn Cupcakes” even though the recipe was for caramel corn cupcakes (I’M CREATIVE). I picked out liners with vertical stripes so they’d look like old-fashioned popcorn bags. I also bought real vanilla beans (they are expensive!) and learned how to scrape out the seeds, which made me feel extremely cool and like I could forage for sustenance in a jungle, which I could not.
Next were my “Rainbow Unicorns”—because I overcomplicate things, I tried to get ahead of my own brain by finding a simple recipe that seemed foolproof. Maybe it was too simple? I’m also not good at piping. I don’t have the intrinsic hand strength to pull it off. Especially at 10:30 at night. I was so tired.
I finally put my cupcakes to bed around 11:30, after triple-checking that I had, indeed, selected my 12 best cupcakes to go to the big show (that’s 4 of each flavor if I have 3 flavors, right? RIGHT?). I set them up verrrry carefully in my best cake carrying case, then picked out 9 understudies for my other carrying case as back-ups in case someone got smushed or crumbled under pressure. The rest of the 58 (well, more like 54 at this point, I got hungry) were frosted and put in plastic containers ready to be given out to friends and family. That’s what baking is all about, isn’t it? Sharing good things with the people you love?
(No! It’s about VICTORY TANKARDS).
I had been baking and decorating since 9:30 in the morning. I set my alarm for 6 AM (on a WEEKEND) and tried to sleep quickly, which did not work.
Lumi was so excited to return to the Renaissance Festival, even though it was raining and she had to share the back of the car with about 40 cupcakes.
I somehow managed to park, get my ticket, turn in Lumi’s dog registration, trek through the entire mud-soaked festival in the pouring rain with my dog and my cupcake carrying case and find the “Crystal Palace” where this thing was going down.
I had no idea where I was going but I forged ahead and tried not to slip in the mud. I heard two ladies behind me say, “Is it this way? That girl has cupcakes and she’s going this way.”
I yelled “FOLLOW ME!” and led a cupcake charge up a very small incline, and turned in my cupcakes in with SIX MINUTES to spare.
I sank into a chair and waited for the judging to start. Stella and her new super-extroverted new boyfriend joined me, already on their first mead of the day.
“You got this, buddy!” said Stella, rubbing my shoulders like she was my coach. “Dude, you are tense.”
The judging portion was fun and light and everyone was having a good time, which is the most important thing, but I was a nervous wreck and just wanted to leave—they really do need a quiet corner for people who get overwhelmed.
I couldn’t even look at the other contenders—some of them looked so professional with their piping and decorations, they put my little swords to shame.
Still, the MC held up one of my Iron Thrones to show off to the crowd.
“That’s a good sign!” said Stella.
Stella is the most optimistic person I know. We’ve had a lot of dark moments together through decades of friendship, eleven of which were with the same piano teacher, but she’s never lost that buoyant streak of “Everything will be great even though it’s metaphysically impossible.”
As the judges finished eating all 81 contending cupcakes (there were 27 people and we each made 3 flavors, so that’s right, isn’t it?) and started filling out their score sheets, the MC went around and asked for their early favorites.
“I liked the kettle corn one,” said one judge.
“THAT’S YOU!”  screamed Stella’s new boyfriend. Most of what he says, he screams. That’s fine, just not a communication style I endorse.
“I saw that judge lick her fingers!” said Stella. “She was eating one of yours! She didn’t do that with any of the others!”
But one person made cupcake teacups with chocolate handles, another made a castle centerpiece with sugar cubes, and someone else did Shakespeare themed flavors (GENIUS! Why didn’t I think of that?).
In the end, I didn’t make it to the next round. Stella sweet-talked her way into seeing my score sheet and she said that I was close—and that the judge who liked my kettle corn cupcakes wanted the recipe. That’s quite a compliment—it’s not a tankard, but I’ll take it.
I’d been so nervous that I hadn’t eaten anything, so we broke into my carrying case of understudy cupcakes.
“Dude, these really are good,” said Stella.
“You’re not even supposed to have gluten,” I said.
“I know,” she said, through a mouthful of Guinness cupcake. “It’s worth it.”
Stella’s new boyfriend grabbed my shoulders and screamed, “Your cupcakes are TITS!”
I gave one of my spare containers to Stella to take home and bid them farewell. Lumi and I watched a fencing competition and walked through a tiny maze of fairy houses, and several people wearing elf ears swooned over her.
Later, after a much-needed nap, I took my other container of spares to my parents’ house, and told my parents, my sister and my sister’s boyfriend Steve the entire story of my brush with cupcake immortality.
“Their taste buds must have been damaged!” said my mom. “At least it was a good experience for your first bake-off.”
“I’m proud of my little guys,” I said. “Stella’s new boyfriend said they were, and I quote, ‘Tits.'”
“They were what?” said my dad.
“TITS!” said Steve.
“Oh, youth,” said my sister, who is one year older than this dude. “So, how was Stella’s new boyfriend?”
“He’s very nice,” I said. “He was very supportive. He’s just really extroverted.”
“Is he more or less annoying than Steve?” said my sister.
Steve was sitting right next to her. He just shrugged and took another bite of cupcake.
  Renaissance Festival Cupcake Contest I don't know how I ended up at the Michigan Renaissance Festival, but once I heard bagpipes and a cannon go off, I felt right at home.
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