#Another thing my depression doesn’t make clear about me is how joyful and fun i am . in person

[sggk]

Hugely popular at the cranberry bog as i walked the perimetre singing an original song entitled Holding Out For A Froggy (after bonnie tyler) in order to summon the bog frogs my way , SUCCESSFULLY i might add

[rachelbethhines]

TTS Songs Ranked Worst to Best

Someone asked me to rank my fav and least fav TTS songs a while back, but I’ve since then relistened to the soundtrack and there’s a whole bunch of songs that just forgot about, so here’s a more accurate ranking now that the songs are more fresh in my mind

32 .  Life After Happily Ever After (Reprise)

This song is infuriating, because the finale is infuriating. Listening to this song just makes me angry all over again because it reminds me just how unsatisfying the ending to TTS was. I wanted to turn it off at several points. I barely can get through it despite it being so short. It doesn’t help that the soundtrack leaves all the dialogue in there and fails to actually end the song. It just cuts off before the final note.

31. Hook Foot’s Ballad

Does this even count as a song? Why is it here on the soundtrack but not the Hurt Incantation? Did Menken really waste his talent writing a joke and did the showrunners really waste money and limited resources on this?

30. Friendship Song

Bland, boring, and pointless. It was clearly written as a marketing stunt for the radio disney charts and not as anything to do with the plot of the series. They just throw it up on screen to fill out the running time and don't even let the whole song play through. It’s pitiful.

29. Waiting in the Wings (Reprise)

I didn’t think much of the original song one way or the other, but the reprise is soooo dumb. The plot twist it introduces winds up ruining the whole show and sabotaging both Cassandra’s and Rapunzel’s characters. It’s not even a nice sounding song on it’s own. The kid’s voice is irritating (who I’m sure is doing her best, but really little kids shouldn’t be made to sing professionally as a general rule) and the melody just as bland as the first time it was played. The only reason to like this song is if you’r a mega fan of Cassandra’s or her VA, which I am not. (Note: this is not a criticism of Eden Espinosa, I just don’t happen to follow any of the VAs in this show)      

28. Through It All

I like the instrumentals in this song, and that’s about it. Everything about this song is wrong. It doesn’t fit the story, it’s a misuse of the cast and songwriters, it’s a waste of valuable screen time, the melody is dull, and the dang soundtrack had to throw in that lame dialogue about ‘greatest threat ever’ at the beginning. If you want a pump up song in your story then you got to earn it. You can’t just tell us things are bad, you got to show it. A joyful horseback ride and everyone sitting in a bar safe and sound isn’t threatening or depressing enough to warrant a cheering up session. Plus the song itself doesn’t add anything to the overall story.

27.  The Girl Who Has Everything

Sometimes I think the writers were willing trying to sabotage themselves. It’s as if they were determined to make the only two main female characters in the show unlikeable bitches in season three.   Don’t believe me? The creator Chris has said this song only exists to highlight how much easier Rapunzel has things than Cass and went onto say that Rapunzel was in the wrong during their conflict because ‘she held Cassandra back’. (Oh yeah she totally ‘held back’ the grown woman who left on her own accord, returned on her own accord, and then assaulted and tried to murder a bunch of people for no reason of her own accord.) But this song does succeed in furthering season’s three narrative that Rapunzel is a spoiled selfish brat. Shame the story fails to address this setup and never has Rapunzel learn to be a better person. Rather the narrative bends over backward to tell us how special Rapunzel is without any sense of self awareness and this song falls into that same trap; making it both irritating and pointless.

26. Listen Up

Yeah, I talked about this on my salt marathon, but I just don't like this song very much. The melody is fine but the lyrics are a real miss in my mind. It doesn’t help matters that the song is indeed pointless in the grand scheme of things.

25.  Livin’ the Dream

This is much on the same level as Listen Up as it features the same problems. It doesn’t add to the narrative and the lyrics kind of let it down. I placed it higher just because I like the melody a little more.

24.  More of Me

This song is a lot like the Friendship Song in that it was created to be an end credit song for the pop charts and you’d be forgiven in forgetting it even exists. However, it at least got to actually play all the way through. I think this song was a real missed opportunity. I honestly believe that it should have been the opening theme song of the show instead of Wind in My Hair. It’s more built to serve such a purpose and it’s a waste of resources not to actually use it. Alternatively, I would have accepted it being reworked into the actual series as a character song. Especially since we��re missing a song in season three due to budget cuts.  

23. Wind In My Hair

Speaking of theme songs, I think I would like Wind In My Hair a lot better if i didn’t have to listen to it every episode. On its own it actually has a lot of things going for it; a nice melody, interesting instrumentals, good singing, ect. Unfortunately it’s just over exposed, and none of those elements lend themselves naturally to an intro song for a tv show. In fact the theme song feels really out of place and is edited oddly to fit the shorter intro. 

22. Wind In My Hair (Reprise)  

Honestly the theme song is mostly comprised of this reprise, but it has the opening instrumentals from the OG song frankensteined onto it. This means that the version that plays before every episode is on fullblast all the time to keep the energy up, but that’s not how the song is suppose to go.  The actual reprise that plays in the pilot builds to a crescendo, starting soft and melancolony and getting louder and more hopeful and determined. It sounds a lot better in full because of that.  It’s still too overexposed though. Both these songs would probably be higher on the list of not for the theme song version. 

21. With You by My Side

This song is fine. It’s nothing special, but it’s not bad either. What knocks it down the list is the fact that Lance isn’t in it, despite Lance being right there.  Like don't bother hiring a famous Broadway singer if you’re not going to have him sing!  But that speaks more to the poor writing of season two than anything else. This song also doesn’t really add anything to the narrative as, contrary to what the writers intended, it doesn’t actually enhance the emotional impact of Cassandra’s betrayal later in the episode. The song itself is just tacked on and doesn’t take the opportunity to lay down any foreshadowing for that plot point.  

20. Next Stop Anywhere

Another perfectly serviable song. It’s not bad but nothing outstanding. It gets the job done. It’s also really ho-hum and the soundtrack keeps all the unneeded dialogue, which is a pet peeve of mine. 

19. Waiting In the Wings

Despite it’s hype, I never thought much of Waiting in the Wings. It’s got nice instrumentals and Eden Espinosa gives it her all in the singing department. The problem is it’s too generic. It’s a bare bones basic ass ‘I want song’. Cassandra's movations are weak and unsupported by the narrative, the melody is boring, and it honestly doesn’t add anything to her story. I mean it should, it’s her character solo, but because she’s written so poorly the song just winds up undermining the character in the end.   All I’m saying is that, this is not the song from season two that I would have nominated for the Emmys. But it’s still Alan Menken, it’s still nicely performed, and given the rest of the competition for that year, it did deserve to win. 

18. If I Could Take That Moment Back 

This song is also pretty generic, but it’s less boring than I See the Light, (yeah, I said it, I See the Light is boring) so that’s a win in my book. Ergo this holds the title of the only New Dream duet that I enjoy. But there’s better stuff on this list. 

17. Next Stop Anywhere (Reprise)

Well no, I take that back. The reprise of Next Stop Anywhere is also technically a New Dream duet. It’s still not anything amazing, but it works for what it is. Plus, Adria’s opening dialogue in the soundtrack version doesn’t bother me quite as much as some of the other dialogues choices that were kept in.  

16. Stronger Than Ever Before 

I really enjoyed this song in the moment. It’s catchy and fun, and it finally has Lance doing something rather than ignoring his existence. However it is borderline unnecessary in terms of story placement, and I’m slightly mad at it now that I know that we could have gotten a Rapunzel and Varian duet but it was scrapped for this instead.   

15. Crossing the Line

Keeping with the theme of ‘songs I have conflicting emotions about’, we have Crossing the Line.  This song is confused. It starts and stops, the melody isn’t clear, the orchestration is playing tug of war with the singers for dominance, and it’s basically Alan Menken and the show’s creators ripping off Frozen. (I guess he’s kicking himself for leaving that particular project?)   But it’s interesting. I never heard anything quite like it. It’s memorable even if it doesn’t fully work. It’s got these interesting bits and pieces to it that just never quite comes together as a whole. Some of the lyrics are some of the best Glenn Slater has ever wrote and is far better than the story actually surrounding the song. Yet there’s other lines that are total cringe. Sometimes the song is bold and catchy and gets you all hyped up, and then other times its limp and staggering and feels so awkward to listen to.  Yet it’s not boring or generic and so I have to place it higher than the rest of the songs that’s come before. (Also, there’s some amazing orchestral covers out there that really pulls together the various parts really well, just fyi) 

14.  Nothing Left to Lose

I really don't like this song.  I’ve been one of its biggest critics ever since it was leaked by the marketing team earlier this year.  And yet... I can’t in good conscience place any lower on this list.  All of the problems I have with it are the exact same problems I have with Crossing the Line. It’s confused, the various pieces don't line up, the instrumentals are competing with the vocals, the song’s progression is weird with it’s constant key changes, some of the lyrics are good while others are absolute shit, ect and so forth.  It also actively works against the story it's trying to tell. The song wants you to sympathize with Cassandra, but her lines are as shallow as a puddle and makes her look like a sociopath. Especially when she’s physically attacking Varian through out for no reason. Also neither character learns anything from the exchange and it fails to impact the story.  By all accounts this is a bad song.  But I’m Varian trash.  There I said it. You happy?  Varian’s parts in the songs are fine, good even, and the song is anything but bland. I would rather listen to a mess then be bored to tears by a competent yet standard four chord pop song. 

13. I’d Give Anything

This song is nice to listen to. Story wise it absolutely sucks and shouldn’t have been in the finale at all. But it sounds pleasant.  This is one of those songs that could pop up randomly on the radio and I would just think it it a nice sad break up song. I can’t say that about some of the other misplaced songs in the show. This one however, you can very much, absolutely divorce this song from the narrative and it would be fine.  Now that’s not good writing, and it’s very much a waste of limited resources, but I’m rating the music here first and story second. 

12. Buddy Song

The Buddy Song also absolutely did not need to exist but it also sounds nice. Plus, it makes use of Lance so I’m a little more lenient towards it.   I can’t however place it higher since it really is just Alan Menken ripping off Alan Menken. Like, I would not be at all surprised to find out that this was originally a deleted song for Aladdin or something.  

11. Bigger Than That

What can I say, Lance just gets good songs. When the show bothers to give them to him.  Unfortunately, it’s not the best placed. It kind of interrupts the more important drama of Be Very Afraid, and probably should have been saved for a later episode. Especially since it hinges on a plot point that is contradictory to Lance’s character.    We should have gotten a Varian and Rapunzel duet here and given Lance his own episode in the second half of season three. This song could have easily been refitted into being a bonding moment for him and the girls. That would also have filled out the season’s original songs to the usual eight instead of only  seven.

10. Life After Happily Ever After

Now we’re getting to the good stuff. The top ten. The best of the best.  This song makes the cut for three reasons.  1. It lyrically and musically interesting 2. It does the job of furthering the story and the characters  and 3. Eugene’s part is so damn good.  Like this song could have easily fell down into the ranks of ‘fine but generic’ if it wasn’t for the bridge with Eugene. That puts it over the top and to my mind makes it better than anything from the OG film. (well almost anything, Mother Knows Best is still great)    This is the barometer by which I measure all of the music in the series. Is it better or worse than Life After Happily Ever After? Because this is the level that I equate good musicals with.  What keeps on the tenth spot and not higher is the dialogue that still left on the soundtrack and the lack of a Cassandra introduction. That and also the rest of the songs are just flat better. 

9. Hurt Incantation 

Hurt, Decay, Reverse, whatever you want to call it, this was such a cool fucking concept. One that was utterly wasted by the show.  I place this so high because it just sounds awesome! It looks good too, and it offered up so many possibilities from a story perspective.  What lets it down is the lack of follow up for it and it’s too short. There’s needed to be another verse. It also should have been on the actual soundtrack instead of  Hook Foot’s Ballad.  (The Heal Incantation also was sung in What the Hair, but I’m not counting it since it was written for the film) 

8.  The Girl Who Has Everything (Reprise)

I hate the initial song and the set up that it took to get here, but I love this reprise. It’s perfect. This is what the story needed more of. Rapunzel taking her life into her hands, and her proposing to Eugene would have been the perfect capstone for her arc.  In fact I’m angry we didn’t actually get that. There’s absolutely no reason why Rapunzel couldn’t have done so and we could have had her and Eugene engaged during the second half of season three. How much better would have it been if Cassandra threatened their wedding plans and that’s why they couldn’t go through with it until after the series ended? So much more tension that way. 

7. I Got This

This is a really good song that actually futhers the characters and the narrative. Moreover it’s refreshing to see the heroine not be perfect and to fail sometimes due to her own inadequacies. It’s just a shame that the series didn’t follow through with this set up, but I appreciate the attempt all the same.   

6.  Set Yourself Free

This is the only song in the series that’s an actual satisfying pay off for anything. Music wise it’s nothing too special, but in terms of context it just works. We were sorely deprived of such resolutions and songs with actual meaning in the show. 

5. View From Up Here

This song is too good for the episode it actually appears in. We needed something like this back in season one to introduce Cassandra with. It also sadly doesn’t fit with the wider narrative after season three. However I shall still appreciate it as a ‘what might have been’ type song. 

4.  Let Me Make You Proud 

The only reason why this song isn’t higher is just overexposure and I’ve no one to blame but myself for that. I’ve listened to this song way too many times. As such it tends to alternate between this, View from Up Here, and the next song on the list. But make no mistake it is glorious. Fantastic instrumentals, set up, and of course amazing vocals. 

3.  Everything I Ever Thought I Knew

Yes, I know this plot point didn’t lead anywhere, but it works for this song at least. Also Eugene’s VA is a really underrated singer. He sounds nice and he emotes really well.  Though I’ll be honest, this jumped up to third place because it was fresh in my mind after listening to the soundtrack before making this list. I’ve always liked the song and I do rate it highly, but it can change places with Let Me Make You Proud and View from Up Here at anytime depending on my mood. 

2.  Let Me Make You Proud (Reprise)

This song is heartbreaking!  Story wise it probably shouldn’t exist because it gives away the twist too soon, but who cares, it’s awesome!  Varian’s arc is the most compelling in the show and the only thing that saves TTS from falling into mediocre obscurity; and it’s songs like this that help make the arc stand out even more than it already does. 

1. Ready As I’ll Ever Be

I said it before and I’ll say it again; Ready As I’ll Ever Be is the greatest thing Alan Menken has ever written in his entire career!  If you know anything about the multiple award winning songwriter then you know that is no faint praise and I do not dole it out lightly.  This song is the reason why this show even has a fanbase. People are still getting into the series because of this song. And no matter how many times you listen to it just rocks!   It’s complex, layered, moody, and with a fantastic beat and energy. The performances are wonderful and the instrumentation glorious. It belongs in the hollows of Disney’s greatest hits and not regulated to a spin-off tv show that failed to make its money back.  I weep for the lost potential that this song and this show had. It hurts to know that so many people will never see this flash of brilliance that has come out of the House of Mouse, will never know the wonderfulness that is Varian.  Ah, ‘c'est la vie’, I suppose. Tangled the Series got what it deserved, but it's crew did not. While I can not in all honesty recommend the series in full; I do sincerely urge any Disney fan to check out the songs at the very least. Especially this one.  And that’s it. There’s my official ranking of all the songs, and I hope those of you read my Tangled reviews appreciate the hours it took into making this. 

[hiddendreamer67]

The Graves of the Twins

Summary: Patton is grieving the loss of Roman, yet he can’t help but feel sympathetic to Remus, who in life was a menace but in death looks so alone as his grave stands forgotten.

October Prompt #28: Grief.

Warning: This ended up being a fairly serious angst piece about grief. Personally I didn’t cry but y’know, you’ve been warned. People are dead but the death itself isn’t depicted.

Check out more writing at @hiddendreamerwriting

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All of the traditions were being followed- the windows were opened. The mirrors covered. The clocks stopped. The family took every precaution, wanting to be careful lest the spirits get lost on their way out the door. The twin caskets lay side by side, the contents said to be too horrifying for viewing, after the car crash had marred both individuals nearly beyond recognition. As such, it was a closed wake. Mrs. Prince wept, sobbing over all that she had lost as the onlookers failed to comfort her. What could they say?

No parent should have to bury their child, let alone two.

The funeral was dreary, as many often are. The church candles cast the speakers in a pale light, and their attempts at bringing up joyful memories of the deceased got mixed results. For Roman, it seemed never-ending. For Remus, they knew better than to speak ill of the dead.

Later that morning the caskets were lowered. The sun was shining, a cruel sort of irony as the dirt was piled onto each dead teen’s resting place in turn. This was a long process; most of the bystanders left, off to the reception in the hopes of returning to some sense of normalcy. Mrs. Prince was ushered to the car by her daughter, the family of four shrinking to half that overnight. After she left, most of the lingering crowd felt comfortable enough to follow. 

Only Patton stayed behind, watching every trace of his love vanish six feet under. He only left when the workers were finished, giving him a gentle pat on the back and telling him to “go home, son.” Patton did, wishing he didn’t. It was lonely at home. His parents comforted him, trying to console him with their words. It didn’t fill the emptiness in his heart.

Why? Patton kept asking in his head, looking up to the ceiling for answers. Why did you do this?

Patton wanted to know the truth. He wanted to live forever with Roman until they were both old with a dozen dogs, and eating strawberries in the summer and sitting by fireplaces in the winter. Instead Patton was stuck with this stark reality that none of that would ever occur. 

It wasn’t fair.

Patton didn’t return to the cemetery again that week. It was too painful. In fact, he didn’t return that month, either. It was easy to pretend for now that the Prince family was just on a very, very long vacation, and any day now Roman would sweep Patton up in his arms and tell him how much he missed him so.

After all, Patton certainly missed Roman.

 Finally, Patton knew it was time to return to the graves. He had to confront his fears and see for himself what had become of him. The path up to the top of the hill was well-trodden, the tragedy having struck the small town hard. There was a thin layer of the first frost crinkling beneath Patton’s shoes. He got to the top, taking in a sharp breath at the sight of the two headstones lying before him. First, on the left:

Roman Alexander Prince

1999-2017

There’s one more angel in heaven

Patton’s lip quivered, recognizing the quote from the last musical Roman had ever performed. Adorning his headstone was a wreath of roses, red in his favorite shade. Several other bouquets were placed at the grave, well-wishers giving the spirit their sympathy. Patton sniffled. He really had been adored by everyone he met, hadn’t he?

Unable to look any longer, Patton’s gaze turned instead to the grave on the right:

Remus Bartholomew Prince

1999-2017

Rest in Peace

Patton paused, looking over this headstone once more. It was so… impersonal. More than that, Patton glanced between the two graves, noticing another clear difference: not a single person had left flowers at Remus’ grave.

In life, Patton had only known Remus as a nuisance, Roman’s obnoxious younger brother who sometimes spouted the wildest, most horrible tangents. He was revolting, in every sense of the word, but that was only the side that Remus had shown to the world. What if there had been more to him? What if Remus had just needed time to grow out of his childish ways? He and Roman were brothers, surely that meant there was something redeemable in them both?

Patton wasn’t certain, and now he never would be, but he certainly wasn’t about to talk bad about the dead. At the very least, the sight of the graves brought a new pang to Patton’s heart that he hadn’t expected. A pang of sympathy to the …. Maybe not unloved, but less loved Prince sibling.  

Patton glanced at the single rose he had brought, which looked a bit pathetic compared to Roman’s wreath. He had brought it for his love, but with a quick prayer that Roman would forgive him Patton knew what he needed to do. He knelt before Remus’ tombstone, placing the rose at the foot of the stone.

“I’m sorry the world wants to forget you.” Patton whispered, laying a soft kiss on the headpiece. 

The next time Patton came, and every time thereafter, he brought two roses. One placed amongst Roman’s garden, and one laid at Remus’ grave. Patton felt better about this, making certain both spirits were honored. He would sit between the two patches of dirt, talking to one and then the other. It was difficult sometimes to find conversation for Remus, as Patton didn’t want to build up a version of Remus in his head that would be inaccurate to life, and he had never known Remus well. So instead, Patton would talk about himself. He’d tell them both how he was doing, what had happened that week, what people he saw.

“I’m applying to colleges now.” Patton informed them. He picked at a string in his pants, uncertain. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing, but mom thinks it’s best to get a head start at community college and figure it out from there.” He took a deep breath, looking at the pieces of stone. “She also says I should go to my Aunt’s house. She says all this time in a cemetery is depressing.”

Patton didn’t see it that way. After all, the people he cared about most were here.

“I don’t want to go.” Patton bit his lip. He sat back, a gentle breeze blew through the cemetery, ruffling Patton’s hair. “I don’t think I’m ready to let go.”

The graves didn’t answer.

“How am I supposed to move on, anyhow?” A frustrated Patton ranted, not noticing the way his voice cracked. “How is it that everyone has just- just forgotten you’re here? Mrs. Prince never comes anymore, your own mother. Why not? Why doesn’t she care? Why doesn’t anyone care?”

Tears pricked at Patton’s eyes now and he let them fall, watching the clouds drift idly through a sky that was far too blue for the melancholy nature of this world.

“They say grief takes time.” Patton’s voice was soft now, afraid the words wouldn’t come out if he spoke too loud. “Logan was explaining the stages to me the other day. I guess I’m in bargaining now, because I would give anything to bring you back.”

“...anything?”

Patton bolted upright, pressing his glasses to his nose as he took in the mysterious stranger that was only a few feet away. He scurried to his feet, heart racing at the realization he hadn’t even heard them approach.

“Who are you?” Patton asked warily.

The stranger didn’t answer, instead looking over the headstones in turn. “Which one?”

“I beg your pardon?” Patton took a few cautious steps back.

“You said you would give anything to bring him back.” The stranger gestured to the graves. “So, choose one.”

Patton didn’t understand the question. Or rather, he did, but what the stranger suggested was impossible. “It’s not nice to make fun of the grieving.” Patton frowned.

“And it’s not nice to play with fate.” The stranger replied. “If your Roman were alive, the grief would consume him. He would not be the same Roman you once knew. Indeed, the same would fair for Remus, who would be compared to his dead brother’s accomplishments to the end of his manic days.”

“They were a set.” Patton slowly realized. 

“And if you were to bring both back…” The stranger gave a disappointed click of his tongue. “They would tear each other apart.”

“No they wouldn’t!” Patton immediately protested. “They were brothers. They loved each other, deep down.”

“I’m certain they did.” The stranger shrugged, crossing his arms. “But their squabbling crashed one car, it would only be a matter of time until they crashed into another. It’s safer this way.” 

“Don’t.” Patton hissed, once again defensive of the twin’s legacy. “Don’t you dare try and turn this tragedy into some sort of miracle. They didn’t deserve this. People can change.”

“People are ignorant, stubborn-headed fools.” The stranger adjusted his gloves. “Anyone who changes is just displaying a new facade so others are blind to the hideousness beneath.”

“Stop it!” Patton protested. “Stop saying such things, they’re not true! Who are you anyway, to insult the dead in such a crass manner?”

The stranger paused, looking up with a considering expression. “Well I daresay speaking of Remus at least in such tones would be a wonderful addition to his legacy. He would find my attitude humorous.”

“You don’t know a thing about what Remus would have wanted.” Patton assured him.

“Well, I should hope I would.” The stranger gave a sad sort of chuckle, pushing up the brim of his hat. “I was, after all, his only friend.”

Patton paused, waiting with raised eyebrows for a further introduction or explanation. He received neither.

“Would you tell me about him?” Patton asked, his quiet inquiry not unlike a child.

“Certainly.” The stranger agreed, settling into the grass. Patton followed his lead, sitting down so that they both were looking at the graves of the twins.

“In exchange, I can tell you about Roman.” Patton offered.

“I think I know enough about Roman Prince.” The stranger scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe you don’t.” Patton argued. “I thought I knew Remus.”

The stranger gave him a considering glance. “That was an almost adequate hypothesis. Very well, but keep the ‘juicy’ details to a minimum, if you please. We don’t need to wake Remus’ spirit from his slumber.”

Patton turned a shade of pink at the mere indication of indecency. “I- I won’t.” He stammered. “It’s not, ah, it wasn’t like that.”

“Of course it wasn’t.” The stranger agreed. “We can tell ourselves all sorts of lies, like how the sadness of grief will never leave or that it is better to waste your money buying flowers for dead children.”

Patton listened to the way the stranger spoke, noting only now that he must have come to grieve too. Why else would he have come here? 

“I may be a lovesick fool.” Patton said. “But I’m not the only one.”

“Oh?” The stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Mhmm.” Patton nodded, his eyes glazing over a moment. “I see what you were doing now. You think it’s easier to grieve if you focus on how their deaths could benefit you, never allowing yourself to think about how it hurt you.”

The stranger was quiet a minute. “Grief is all in your head. It just needs to be suppressed.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Patton shook his head. He was getting better at that, letting his negative emotions run their course. “Grief hurts us, but it heals us, too.” 

“Does it?” The stranger hummed noncommittally. “You don’t seem to be doing much healing.”

“Neither do you.” Patton deflected. “How often do you come here?”

The stranger didn’t answer. He shifted, sitting sideways to the graves now. Patton followed his lead, sitting back to back. The wind rustled the trees at the edge of the cemetery, the branches creaking. An eerie but not unpleasant sound.

“Was this your first loss?” The stranger asked, surprising Patton.

“Yes.” Patton nodded. “You?”

“Second.” The stranger held up two fingers. “My father died when I was six.”

“I’m so sorry.” Patton offered his sympathies.

“Don’t be, you didn’t kill him.” The stranger huffed. “I don’t need sympathy. I have enough of it.”

Patton could understand that. He leaned a bit further against the individual. He sighed, the aching coming back to his chest as he glanced again at the graves. “Does it ever go away?”

“...no.” The stranger admitted. “But sometimes it hurts less.”

[vanquishedvaliant]

Just finished watching Nanoha: Detonation! I really enjoyed the movie! Finally, after such a long wait, the two part story is complete!

Some spoiler commentary under the cut.

Again, I have to preface this saying that I really enjoyed the movie! It was fun, and it was truly, distinctly *Nanoha* in many ways. I have a lot of good thoughts about it, some hit-or-miss things, and a few criticisms, but as a whole I can’t say it wasn’t worth the wait!

First, a couple of the good things!!!!

The emotional component was leaps and bounds ahead of Reflection

Oh my god, the bit with Young Nanoha? That means SO MUCH to me, reminding us all of her roots, of Nanoha’s true core, of the reasons why she fights so hard, why she puts her life on the line to defend others happiness; in the end, Nanoha is and always will be a seriously depressed little girl who didn’t know where she belonged, didn’t see her place in life, feeling helpless and alone, and it’s just as much through the strength of her friends that she’s able to continue as she saves them

NANOHA IN SPACE. IN SSPPAAAACCCEEEE

MATERIALS KITTENS. THEY ARE KITTENS. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

YUUUUSSSHHAAA PUUUNNNNNNNNCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH

“60 seconds of time? ehhhh don’t worry about it!”

there’s so much good old nanoha moods and so many little nods to different characters here and there, from the previous movies and bits of the series

and a couple of criticisms

the twist of the doctor’s betrayal felt like it was added on as an afterthought to extend the plot out another hour. There was no foreshadowing in reflections about this, so it kind of felt like a swerve.

it was incredibly derivative. It’s hard to say there’s very much of the movie at all that’s wholly original; it’s a mishmash scrapbook of moments and characters from existing Nanoha series and spinoffs tied together, at least somewhat neatly

the doctor is essentially a less interesting version of jail scaglieti, with no discernable motive or origin other than the plot demanding a villain. He was a remarkably weak character.

the re-explanation of the conflict between Iris and Yuri required an immense amount of misinformation on both sides to work, and even then, it’s still rather flakey how she was “manipulated”

the fight choreography was... a bit bland. We got a handful of big-picture moments with some cool shots; (the punch! signum’s arrows! shamals’ giant fist! zafira rocket explosions!) but;

the fights lacked a clear emotional component or real stakes. various groups of the heroes fought hundreds of clearly Mariage-inspired Numbers knockoff robots (one more nod to a lesser known staple of the original) all across the city, but it was hard to tell who was where, or why, and there was very little personal stake in any of the combats except those between Kyrie and Iris, Dearche and Yuri, and Nanoha.

The Mariage / Numbers robots were cute, but lacked any time to make them meaningful or interesting. Wasted character designs. Putting Signum up to Robot Signum might have been a cool moment, if we had seen that robot more than a few minutes before the confrontation.

various other things about narrative clarity and presentation

all in all, I think it’s a decent continuation to Reflection’s mold of presenting a very Nanoha-Lite experience with a lot of flash and fanservice, and the core of a genuine attempt to connect to the original series. It’s decidedly Nanoha, through and through, for it’s good and it’s ill, and I’ll gladly take it along with the rest of them to have more of the Ace of Aces in my life.

But it’s still caught in the lull that the series has fallen into ever since the failure of Force to capture the momentum moving forward; a symptom of a franchise that knows pretty well what it was, but doesn’t quite know what to be in the future. In the case of Reflection, it struggles to even reach the heights of refinement and polish that the Movies First and Second A’s brought to their renditions of the story, instead piecing together a collage of “best-of” moments from stories before them to create something partly, but not entirely new

I really enjoyed watching Detonation, cheering and laughing along with the action, giddy and joyful in my sight seeing my girls fly through the sky and give it their all, just as I whooped and hollered at every exciting moment in Reflection. I wouldn’t mind seeing more just like this, exploring the universe into the corners, and filling out those sorely-wanted fan moments with little treats.

But I hope that this isn’t the endgame for Nanoha. And I hope that one day we can push forward into the uncertain territory. Revise Strikers with a film (or series), strike Vivid into brave new territory, and revise or overwrite Force to give the primary drama of the series a new outlet to expand forward into the future, like the series had always done before, bringing new life and breaking new grounds in the impactful stories that made Nanoha so endearing to begin with.

But one way or another, if it keeps up like this, I’ll definitely still be along for the ride.

[jswdmb1]

Up On Cripple Creek

“Good luck had just stung me, 

to the race track I did go. 

She bet on one horse to win 

and I bet on another to show”

- The Band

I am an enormous fan of horse racing and have been for a long time.  I chuckled a bit at the recent “controversy” at the Kentucky Derby and at those who suggested the result was unfair.  Anyone who knows anything about the sport knows that was an easy call and we have all had winners taken down for that reason (on one glorious afternoon at Arlington a couple of summers ago I had TWO winners taken down after inquiries).  It’s part of a sport that needs to be carefully regulated due to the gambling involved and the danger recklessness can bring to the jockeys and horses involved.  So, while the decision was clear cut, I recognize how difficult it was for the judges to do what they did in front of millions of people who probably didn’t know much more about racing than the fancy hats and mint juleps.  I’m also grateful we are not talking about a catastrophe that was adverted by some skillful moves by the jockeys on the horses that were affected by the interference.  All-in-all, it was the best result possible given the circumstances.

But last week’s race is not what I want to talk about today.  Rather, why it is that I am such a big fan of a sport that is frankly not all that popular anymore.  The truth is that there was one very special person who help me develop the bug and who I thought of immediately when the Churchill Downs objection sign went up in that race.  You are probably thinking you know who it is, but I’ll give you 10-1 odds you can’t guess.....no, it’s not my dad, or an uncle or grandfather.  It was a quiet woman I knew named Rita Hendren.

Rita was, and still is to the day, one of the most interesting people I have ever met. Born in 1920 to a Southern Illinois coal miner, she was the fourth child of fifteen.  That is not a typo.  I met thirteen of them and can vouch that it was true (two passed away as infants as unfortunately was quite common at that time).  Unlike today, where coal miners are men of great wealth, it was a tough living back then (before you write me a note, that was a joke).  They lived in a small house with no indoor plumbing.  Then, the depression hit and things really got rough.  The story I was told was that when dinner time was called you ran to the table because the competition was fierce and there wasn’t always enough for everyone.  Still, Rita would talk fondly of a childhood that seemed to have plenty of good times.  I know better now that she likely sugarcoated some of the details, but generally she seemed to appreciate what she had.

She also appreciated her education and graduated high school in the late 30′s.  That may not impress many people these days, but a high school diploma was not an easy thing to obtain in that era, especially for a woman.  I’m certain that now she would have been offered free rides to the college of her choice as she was well-read on many subjects and could speak intelligently on them all  But for a career, she did what she had to do to make money and moved to Chicago where the jobs were.   She eventually landed at the Sunbeam factory in Cicero where she worked for many years as a quality control inspector.  But despite the blue-collar nature of her life, she spent whatever free time she had reading books and watching whatever was on WTTW.  In addition, she read the Sun-Times cover to cover every day and also enjoyed music.  She had this great old Zenith console stereo (her sister worked there) and played 45s all day long (lots of big band and country music).  She also made the best fried chicken I have ever tasted and rarely eat it to this day because nothing I have had since then can cut it (including me trying her recipe once - I just can’t figure it out!).

While she would be reading the paper, I noticed she would linger in the sports section.  Then, one day when I was at her house, she made a point to turn the TV to the old channel 26 to watch Phil Georgeff on his Hawthorne recap show.  I asked her why the interest in such an odd thing. She just said that she loved watching the horses and had all her life.  As I got older, I found out there was a guy at Sunbeam who booked bets (this was well before OTB’s on every corner) and she had some money down on a hot tip she got in one of the races.  This did not shock or surprise me.  I had been watching her rake in huge pots for years at the Christmas poker games with her brothers and she always talked about how she loved the excitement of Las Vegas the one time she had been there.  I was awfully curious about how she got so good at handicapping races, but I hit my teen years and got distracted.

Then, I found out at around the age of 18 that I could bet myself on the races.  I went a time or two and was pretty timid about the experience with limited success.  At one point, I mentioned my trips to the track to Rita and she suggested we go together sometime.  So, we planned for a nice day that spring when the Hawthorne meet started and I scraped up $20 to see what I could do with a real expert at my side.  I don’t remember the exact results that day (let’s just say I didn’t get rich), but I do remember learning every in and out of how to read a race program that you would ever want to know.  I came to appreciate the joy of the sport and getting to be an active participant.  I know it sounds insincere, but the money doesn’t really matter.  When I go to the track now, I don’t bet much more than I did then and still have tons of fun.  I was given a gift of analysis that could be used in a really fun way.  More importantly, it gave me insight into how this woman’s brilliant mind worked.  There were times I felt bad that she was just a factory worker and didn’t get a real opportunity in life, but I realized that she was a pretty happy person despite a tough life (lots of sorrow for her came in many ways, but those stories are not for public consumption).  Being around her taught me what it means to be tough and use what you’ve got and not to worry about what you don’t have.

I doubt it is much surprise that I’m talking about my grandmother (on my mom’s side).  Eventually, she developed a form of dementia and the last decade or so of her life was a real struggle.  That hurt me more than anything as I knew (along with many others) just how beautiful her mind was and it was tough to see her unable to use it.  I never forgot, however, the lessons she taught me and the countless hours we spent talking about the news, listening to old records, or the time she talked me into ditching a class in college to meet her at old Sportsman’s Park.  And, as bad as I felt for her not getting more opportunity in life, I was selfishly grateful that she didn’t.  It enabled her to spend so much time with me and give me wonderful gifts like appreciating how to handicap a horse race.  I look forward someday to sitting with one of my own grandkids and sharing whatever quirky knowledge I have that may be of interest.  Until then, I’ll keep plugging away at my two or three times a year visit to the track and I’ll never forget who got me there in the first place.

So on this Mother’s Day, in addition to wishing my beautiful wife and wonderful Mom the most joyful of days, I want to send a special thanks to my Grandma, who I just know had a bet on the long shot Country House and was slyly smiling when he was put on top at 30-1 odds.  I’m sure right now, she is using that bankroll to bluff her brothers out of another pot with a pair of fours with a glimmer in her eyes the whole time.  And while I miss her a lot, it warms my heart greatly to know that she can be back doing what she loved best.

And, for all of you out there who are Moms, thank you for the special talents you have that sometimes may be overlooked, but make such a huge difference on your children’s and grandchildren’s lives.  It is now more important ever that kids have strong female role models in their lives, and I was incredibly lucky to have several.  You are now providing that to a new generation, and I hope you had a wonderful day with those you love and they were able to show you the appreciation you deserve.

Happy Mother’s Day,

Jim

[just-jordie-things]

“I Promise” - Malia Tate

word count: 4259 warnings: mentions of sexual activitiesss and super fluff

(prompt nine)

----

[ love is forgiving ]

Malia sat at the kitchen table, tapping her fingers against her cheek as she propped her head up.  She had a scowl permanently etched onto her face as she thought.  

“What about… flowers?” Kira suggested.  “Flowers are nice, she’ll love flowers”

“Please” Malia scoffed.  “Flowers are for heteros” She said, and Kira blinked before awkwardly laughing.

“I didn’t think that gifts were… labeled” She said, and Malia just sighed.

It was her and yours one year anniversary.  And she had no idea what to do for you.  She’d called Kira over an hour ago to help her come up with ideas but so far nothing had come to mind.

“A puppy?”

“No! She’ll give it more attention than me!” Malia exclaimed, and Kira burst out laughing.

“Or, you could take care of it together?” Kira offered instead, raising her eyebrows and hoping to be of some help.  Malia groaned, putting her head down on the table and wrapping her arms around her head.

“I don’t have the time for that.  Hell I can barely take care of myself”

“You take care of y/n just fine” Kira shrugged, and Malia raised her head for a few moments just to give the kitsune a glare.  Then she put her face right back down in her arms.

“I have to, I love her she’s my everything” She mumbled, and Kira found herself smiling at the sweet words.  Even though Malia probably didn’t realize she was being sweet (like most of the time).

“Awe” Kira cooed.  “Get her a giant teddy bear?”

“I did that for valentine's day” She muttered, and Kira frowned.

“Well what’s the first thing that came to mind? Like the very first thought you had when-”

“I thought I’d surprise her with sex but it’s not too much of a surprise anymore” Malia sighed, finally sitting up again.  “I just want her to like it, to feel as special as she is”

“Awe!” Kira cooed again, her smile growing painfully wide.  “Tell her you love her!”

“Duh, she knows.  I told her when I met her”

“Oh, yeah” Kira bit on her lip as she remembered the first time you actually talked to Malia.  She’d blurted out immediately that she was in love with you.  And as awkward as it was, you had laughed and asked her out anyways.  And now here you were, a year later of being lovesick girlfriends.  “Where’s her favorite place to go with you?”

“Uh… I guess the park.  We go there late at night with ice cream and we swing and talk and lay in the grass” Malia shrugged a shoulder.  “It’s fun, it’s just not… it’s not very anniversary-y” She said, crinkling her nose with disappointment.  “It’s not like some… some big fancy restaurant where we drink champagne and laugh all poshy”

“Wow” Kira chuckled, and got up from the table to go to the fridge.  “I’m taking some juice” She announced, and Malia stayed sitting at the table, boredly drawing shapes in the wood with her fingertips.

She smiled to herself at the time she’d done this with her claws, and you scolded her for ruining the tabletop.  You stopped scolding when she had shown you she’d carved a heart with both of your initials into it.

“Mal! I got the best idea!” Kira squealed, and Malia perked up at her excitement, thinking that it must be good.  “Buy her a star!” She clapped her hands together happily from the kitchen.  Malia’s brows furrowed, a frown pulling on her lips.

“I don’t think you can get those” She stated.

“You can! You get this form online, and like… NASA names a star after them or something” Kira said.  “It’ll be sweet!

“A piece of paper?” Malia grumbled.  “That’s not sweet, that’s easy” Her frustration was growing by the second, and her worry of not having anything for you was increased as well.  You deserved the best, she knew that.  She just couldn’t give it to you.  “Maybe I don’t deserve her-”

She was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Oh, that’s her now” Malia sighed, and stood up from the table.  Kira poured her glass of juice, watching from the other room as Malia answered the door.

“Hey Mal” You said cheerily, stepping inside and kissing her cheek as you kicked off your shoes.

“Hey, Kira’s already here” Malia responded, her tone much less joyful than yours.  You stuck your head out to grin at the petite girl in the kitchen.  She grinned and waved.

“I’ll be out in a sec I’m just rounding up snacks” She called out, and turned to gather snacks.  It was a girl’s movie night.  Even though Lydia backed out last minute because apparently she already had date night plans with Stiles.  Not that any of you believed it, but you let it slide.

“Sorry I’m late” You apologized, and Malia shook her head.

“No it’s cool, it’s totally cool we were just talking” She shrugged

“Anyways I uh… I found this clearing, this just absolutely gorgeous little field in the Preserve and I was thinking that we could go there, tomorrow.  You know for-for our anniversary” Your voice came off nervous, worried she wouldn’t like the idea.  “I was thinking that you could pick somewhere for food, we’ll put it all in a picnic basket and we could go there” Malia smiled slightly.

“Yeah, yeah that seems good.  I like it” She said, and just as you were about to respond, she walked off.  Your brows crinkled, looking over and watching her leave the living room to go to the kitchen with Kira.

“O-okay” You said awkwardly, and wrung your fingers together as you sat down on your spot on the recliner.  

You and Malia always sat there together, it was a prime cuddling spot.  You could sit on her lap, or on your side in between her and the arm rest.  If you were too sleepy to drag yourselves upstairs, or Malia was too tired to carry you, you’d just prop out the bottom of it so you could both lay back and sleep, and it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

Though sitting here by yourself felt pretty uncomfortable.

“You guys need help?” You called, pulling your bare feet up onto the seat and wrapping your arms around our legs.

“Nope we got it” Kira replied, just as both girls came back in, holding bags of chips and snack cakes and drinks.  “So, n/n, how was your Saturday”

“Fine, spent the day looking for a place for tomorrow” You said, standing up so that Malia could take her seat on the chair with you, but she sat down on the end of the sofa.  You frowned, but she didn’t say or do anything about it, just sat back on the recliner again.  She was her own person… she could sit wherever she wanted.

“Yeah? Find somewhere good?” Kira asked with the kind smile she usually had on her lips.  You simply nodded, looking down at the floor before setting your chin on your knees.

“What movie was picked?” You asked quietly, feeling a sort of sadness falling over you.  Your girlfriend was barely speaking to you, and she wouldn’t sit with you, and she wasn’t even looking at you.

“Actually I haven’t decided yet.  But don’t go snatching one! It’s my turn!” Kira said, quickly making her way to the dvd case to find something.

“I’m… I’m gonna go make a glass of water” You excused yourself and slid off the chair to go to the kitchen.  Sniffling quietly to try to hide the tears that were beginning to sting your eyes.

Kira turned to Malia, giving her a blank look.

“What?” The coyote questioned, but her voice dripped with her guilt.

“Honey.  Go talk to her.  This is ridiculous”

“You’re ridiculous” Malia muttered back lamely, and Kira rolled her eyes.

“Just cause I can’t sniff the air and smell chemosignals, doesn’t mean that I can’t tell when people are sad.  And y/n went from jolly to depressed in four minutes” She said defeatedly, and Malia sighed quietly to herself, before standing up and leaving the room.  Kira just smiled to herself and went back to picking out a movie.

Malia shuffled awkwardly into the kitchen, watching you as you made your glass of water, your back turned to her.  She smiled to herself in a secret sort of way, just enjoying you in your bubble, an innocent sort of beauty about you.  As you turned around you startled slightly, not having known she’d come into the room.

“Oh Mal I didn’t know you’d come in” You said, an awkward smile on your lips as you set your glass of water on the countertop.

“Sorry” She mumbled, and walked around the countertop towards you.

“Did Kira pick a mov-” You were cut off as Malia’s hands grabbed your hips and tugged you against her, covering your lips with hers in a hot kiss.  A muffled sound came from your throat in surprise, but you just as quickly wrapped your arms around her neck and leisurely kissed her back, smiling against her lips at the nice surprise.  When you pulled away you smiled, unable to contain the small grin of happiness.

“Well that was nice” You hummed quietly, biting on your bottom lip to suppress the smile.  Malia grinned at you, leaning down to connect your lips again, softly encasing your lips in hers in a sweet form of dominance.  You moaned softly and leaned further against her, thanking the heavens that she truly hadn’t been upset with you earlier.

“I’m sorry I got weird” She pulled away before you’d stopped kissing, leaving you standing with your lips pursed having expected another one.

“It’s fine, we all get weird” You shrugged, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips.  “What happened though?” Your fingers caressed softly beneath her hair against the soft skin at the back of her neck.

“I… I was feeling bad” She admitted, and you furrowed your brows.

“What were you feeling bad about?” You asked gently, and she pursed her lips to the side awkwardly.  Malia hesitated her answer, licking over her lips and avoiding your eyes as she thought about what to say.

“I don’t know what to do for you” She grumbled, and you laughed, snirking a little bit.

“Babe… you do… so much for me” You said, winking after and making her giggle.  “But really, you do.  You don’t have to do anything for me.  The day’s not about me, it’s about us together” You dropped your hands to grab hers from your waist, linking your fingers together.  Malia smiled at that, liking the way you put things into perspective for her.  “All that matters to me, is that I’m with you” You told her, and she grinned at you.

“You’re cute when you’re sweet” She said, leaning in and pecking your nose.  You giggled at the soft and ticklish feeling and released her hands.

“I’m always cute” You said, flipping your hair over your shoulder jokingly but Malia just shrugged and nodded in agreement.  “Come on, we’ve got a movie night to get to” You said, tugging her hand and pulling her back into the living room.  Completely forgetting about your glass of water.

Kira grinned as you both came in, hand in hand, happy that you were both fine again.  She knew you would be, but the girl was a ball of anxiousness and, well, electricity.

“I picked the best one” She assured, as you and Malia took your cuddling positions on the recliner.

“I’m sure whatever it is it’s great” You assured as the kitsune laid out with a fluffy blanket on the sofa.  You wrapped your arms around Malia’s middle and tucked your head against her neck as you watched the screen.

You and Malia both gave Kira a look as the opening scene was a girl on girl make out session.

“What?” She asked innocently.  “I wanted to know what Scott’s fuss about this being so hot was about” She said with a small shrug.  You and Malia’s eyes met as you both smirked with a small laugh before you cuddled back into her again.

“I know just what the fuss is about” Malia whispered lowly into your ear, placing a kiss in your hair then going back to the movie like nothing happened.

And by the end of the night, when you fell asleep in her arms, she knew exactly what she was getting you.

The following afternoon you were getting ready for your date with Malia.  You kept messing with the little things, having already been mostly ready half an hour ago.

You were in distressed jeans and a tee shirt with one of Malia’s jackets on over top of it.  Your favorite one, the jean vest with soft grey sleeves.  Your hair was down, and had been brushed through so much that your fingers were beginning to cramp.  The subtle makeup you had on you just kept messing with, cleaning off and then reapplying, wanting it to be absolutely perfect.

“Honey are you still doing your makeup?” Your mom chuckled, and you turned from the bathroom mirror to see her standing in the doorway.  You gave her a blank expression, and she laughed again, putting her hands up defensively.  “No no, by all means spend another two hours on it” She said, and you forced a laugh so she didn’t think you were so tense.

“It just has to be perfect” You told her, going back to applying your mascara.  But the woman just scoffed, heading back down the stairs again.

“That girl already thinks you hung the moon and each star, I think you’ll be alright” You stood back away from the mirror, smiling to yourself and capping your mascara.  You didn’t need it tonight.

You took a deep breath, walking into your room, grabbing your bag and picking up your gift for Malia.  You looked over it, making sure everything was okay.  It was the one part of the night that mattered most to you, besides Malia of course.  If this went well, the anniversary went well.

“y/n! Malia’s here!” Your mom called and you put the gift into your bag quickly put it in.

“Coming!” You called, an excited nervousness washing over you as you pulled on your boots and rushed out of your room.  You stopped at the top of the stairs, grinning down as Malia kicked the toe of her converse into the rug at the front door, watching it like it was the most fascinating thing ever.  But she must’ve heard you cause she perked up and her eyes landed on you.

It was like one of those movie moments, where your eyes meet and all time freezes, and all you could do was focus on each other.  All time stopped, and your lips parted as you stared at the beautiful girl right down the stairs.  Her hair in their waves to her shoulders as beautifully always, a black shirt with a flannel over it and shorts that showed off her never ending long tan legs.  You unconsciously licked your lips and made your way down the steps, your eye contact not breaking once.

“Hey” You breathed, smiling big and your blush beginning to grow.  It was like it was your first date all over again.

“You look so-” Malia’s eyes cut to your mom, standing a few feet away with her camera as she waited for you.  “Beautiful” She settled, and pulled you in for a kiss on your cheek.  “Sexy” She whispered under her breath into your ear and you giggled as you stepped back.

“You look great too” You said softly.

“Okay pictures!” Your mom squealed, pulling out her phone and her camera.  You chuckled awkwardly and whined slightly.

“Mom it’s not Prom” You muttered, but Malia waved her hand dismissively.

“Nah, I love pictures with you” She said, so you happily went along with it and began to smile and pose with her.  After your mom took what felt like a hundred, you told her it was time to be done.

“Fine alright I get it!” Your mom said putting her devices away.  “You girls have fun.  Oh! But not too much fun- who am I kidding you can’t get pregnant” You held back a snort of laughter as she waved a nonchalant hand and began to head into the living room.  “Text me if you’re coming home or staying there” She called.

“Okay mom, love you!” You said before opening the door for Malia.  “You ready?” You asked, and she nodded, checking once more to see your mom was in the other room before pressing her lips against yours.

“Ready” She replied with a smile before taking your hand and walking you out to her car.  “The Preserve right?”

“Yeah but if you want to get food first we can” You offered as you both got in the car.

“I mean… I’m good if you are” She said, a slight nervousness in her tone.

“Yeah” You smiled softly.  “Yeah I think I’m good too” You said in a quiet voice as she backed out of your driveway.  “I’m really excited to show you this place, I think you’ll like it” You told her as you admired the night sky out the window, eyes flickering over the stars that were just beginning to show in the dark palette the sky had become.

“I’m sure I’m gonna love it if you do so much” Malia said, and you smiled to yourself happily.  Malia had a knack for saying the sweetest, cutest things that would make your heart do somersaults, but it wasn’t often that she realized it. The drive wasn’t too long, and it was filled with more sweet things and hand holding, as well as a comment about how well your girlfriend had gotten at driving.  Malia had flustered under the compliment, as she usually did.

When you’d arrived at the Preserve, the coyote practically jumped out of the car to run around and open the door for you.  You giggled, taking her hand and she kissed the back of it, making you laugh again.

“You’re such a gentlewoman” You said and she grinned, happy to have made you happy.  You walked together, hand in hand along the hiking trail as you led the way to the spot.  You told her all about it, how the grass seemed softer and the stars seemed brighter when you were there.  Malia just smiled and stared at you, finding the sparkle in your eyes more bright than any star.

You finally stopped after pulling her of course through a group of trees.  “This is it” You said, your voice full of admiration to the secret little clearing.  Malia smiled from you to the area, taking a moment to look it over before tugging you towards it with a bounce in her step out of excitement.  You giggled as she sat you both down in the grass, her fingers running through it as she tried to get the same experience as you did.

“I love it” She told you, and you smiled our of relief.

“Good, I was worried you’d think it’s just like all the other places I pick” You said, but Malia shook her head.

“No of course not, none of them are the same.  Even if they were it wouldn’t matter, I’m here with you.  That’s what matters” She said, quoting you from last night and making you smile bashfully.

“I love you” You told her, wrapping your hands around her arm to pull her over and place your lips against hers sweetly.

“I love you more” She responded, her hand lying on your cheek as she looked at you.  “A lot more” She clarified seriously, and you let out a small giggle as she pushed your hair back behind your ear.

“Should I even bother arguing it?” You raised a brow, but she shook her head instantaneously.

“Nope” She replied, popping her lips.  “You would only embarrass yourself in your loss” You let out a scoff of a laugh.

“Oh really? Embarrassment? I could never be embarrassed.  Especially not with you.  And especially not when it comes to how crazy in love with you I am” You said.  “Seriously, it’s ridiculous.  If you asked me to cut off my arm I’d do it.  I would” You began to wave your hands around spastically as you went on.  “I would kill a deer for you, and hunting scares me half to death but if you wanted it I’d do it”

“Well I’d do this” Malia said, reaching into her pocket and pulling something out, holding the small object in front of you.  You silenced instantly, staring at the small but impactful thing in between her fingers.  Your lips were dropped open, eyes flickering slowly between her,

And the beautiful small diamond ring in her fingers.

“Mal…” You said quietly, unable to form any other words.  She smiled, enjoying your surprised reaction.

“It’s a promise ring” She told you, like you didn’t already know it.  “Lyd told me all about it, and I think it’s perfect.  It’s perfect for us” She explained, and you still just stared, dumbstruck.  “It’s not an engagement ring, it just means… well maybe someday it will be.  It could be” She said.  “I want to promise you that I’ll be in your future y/n” A small gasp of a laugh left your mouth and you nodded your head, tears beginning to leak out of your eyes.

“Yes” You mumbled, reaching forward and hugging her tightly, burying your face in the crook of her neck as she wrapped you up in her arms.  “Yes yes yes Malia that’s… you pulled away, unable to find the words to say so you kissed her sweetly, and then again, and then peppered her cheeks and nose with more little butterfly kisses.  “I love it.  I love you” You told her and she grinned, absolute joy coming over her.

“I love you too” She said, and held the silver ring out towards you.  You let her slide it onto your finger swiftly while you stared at it in awe.  It was beautiful, a simple silver band, and a small diamond encrusted in it.  “Look at the bottom” She said, turning your hand over so your palm face up.  You brought it closer to your face, seeing a small heart carved there expertly, two sets of initials inside of it.  More tears fell as you recognized them as hers and your own.

“Well it’s about time you carved into something other than your father’s nice furniture” You chuckled through your crying and reached out to hug her close again.

“Actually the guy at the jewelry store did it, but I told him exactly what it had to look like.  I showed him my lock screen” She held up her phone and turned it on, revealing her lock screen photo of her tabletop.  You laughed at the cheesiness but you both knew you loved it.

“Mal I love it, it’s perfect” You awed at the band around your finger.  “Now I feel like I didn’t do enough for you”

“I’ve got you, that plenty” She said, but you rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Well it’s no ring” You said with a playfully bitter chuckle as you opened up your bag, pulling out your gift to her.  Malia took what looked like a book and inspected the cover curiously.  It read photos on the front in a fancy embroidered cursive font, and above it was a picture of you and her, sitting at the top of the Beacon Hills Carnivals ferris wheel.  It was an artsy candid photo of you laughing as she stole a kiss on your cheek.  She remembered snapping the picture before you could protest.

“I remember that day so vividly” Malia said quietly, running her fingers over the front of the album before opening up.  Each page was a thick white paper, a picture of the both of you on each one with a caption.

It was like she was reliving all of her favorite memories of you, which was all of her memories of you.  From fancy dinner dates, to stay in sweats and binge Netflix dates, eating pizza, going on hikes, Prom, pack nights, long walks, cuddling in bed, all the wonderful times of your growing relationship accounted for in this one, creative little book.

“I know it’s not as great but I thought it might be nice to have something for when we aren’t togeth-” Malia cut you off, setting the photo album aside and grabbing your face in her hands, tugging you towards her and smashing her lips against yours.  You hummed, happily threading your fingers through her hair, pulling her lips impossibly further against yours.  You could never have enough.  Malia breathed in deeply, taking in your scent of vanilla and affection and love, the taste of your cherry red lips making it all too intoxicating.  She pulled you away from her, staring at you with the roundest doe eyes and softest expression.

She sure did look the part of a girl in love.

“You are my whole world” She told you, and you leaned your forehead against hers, nose brushing against hers as she spoke softly and sincerely.  “Don’t ever think otherwise”

“I promise” You whispered back.

prompt list here if you’d like to request a number + a character!

xoxo ~ jordie

[firstumcschenectady]

“Find Joy” based on  Isaiah 66:10-14 and Psalm 66:-19

Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

- Psalm 30:5b

I have a fondness for … um... expressive language ;), and that fondness was significantly stronger when I was in college.  However, in April during every year of college I cleaned up my language to  pristine levels.  I did it so that when I got to camp, I would not accidentally speak a word that would harm, or offend, or get repeated by any of our campers with special needs.  We were also careful then, as we are now, not to offer too many hugs or to permit any loosening of manners – not to allow anything at camp that would cause potential harm in the real world.  

I did this because I loved our campers, and I wanted them to be safe, secure, and at ease both at camp and in the world.

During my second year of seminary I started an internship with an urban church, one that was doing important ministry with people who were homeless.  People who are homeless are more likely to be assaulted – both physically and sexually.  People who are homeless are often hungry, unable to get clean, struggling with physical health, and most people who are homeless for a long time end up with an addiction even if they didn't start out with one.  Being homeless is one of the hardest and most vulnerable positions in our society, if not THE hardest.

The history I'd learned in college about the closing of state hospitals for people with disabilities, and the resulting (continued) failure of the system to care for the most vulnerable people in our society suddenly became very clear in reality.  People who were in the same population as Sky Lake's beloved special needs campers were homeless on the streets of Los Angeles.  The disconnect between the intentional care I'd been offering to God's beloved people with special needs at camp and the reality that people with special needs were being assaulted every day on the streets of LA, and that society was doing NOTHING to change it broke open my heart.

I have not recovered yet.

Instead, over the past 15 years, I've discovered more and more ways that the world is fundamentally broken and been disillusioned repeatedly.  Some wise ones have pointed out that is it because of the color of my skin and the stability of my childhood that I was able to be so naive to begin with, and they're right.  Yet, for me seeing the world as it is, and seeing clearly what its priorities are and are not, is painful. Similarly, seeing the church as it is, and seeing clearly what its priorities are and are not has been painful.

I believe that part of the purpose of church is to offer a God's vision for the world to the people, and as such to offer hope that we can build the kindom together.  Further, I believe that the pastor's role is to be a speaker of the vision, and of hope.  People NEED hope, and our faith tradition offers it.  It has been hard at times, though, to have integrity and be truthful about the brokenness, and simultaneously offer real hope.  The challenge, I think, has been in my own discomfort with reality.  Once reality is accepted, then it can be worked on, but I've been struggling for years to accept that things really are as broken as abundant evidence points to.

The realities of the world, however, are exactly WHY we need to speak hope – real hope – and be inspired by God's visions of justice.  We can't just let ourselves wallow, we have to face reality, but we can't offer weak or trivial hope.  The world, and its people, NEED to know that another way of being is possible, and we can create it together.

Family Systems theory teaches us that when we are anxious, we get more close minded.  When systems (groups of people) are anxious, they get more close-minded too.  They take less risks.  They make worse decisions.  They create anxiety in their people, and then people with raised anxiety tend to revert to old ways of functioning and coping mechanisms that often do more harm than good: gossip, triangulation, demonizing others, consuming, addictive behaviors, lashing out, etc.  Anxiety can easily become it's own self-perpetuating cycle.

Dear ones, the anxiety in our systems right now are at unhealthy levels.  I remember reading articles during the 2016 election cycle about the impact the election was having on our shared mental health (it was bad).  It has gotten worse.  The injustices around us take a toll every day, and I hear from all of us how much we want to create change.  It doesn't help right now to be part of the United Methodist Church, because being part of a CHURCH that is an oppressor is really darn depressing, and adds our anxiety and dismay.  Further, in this particular congregation, we've been working on something that is also really hard: we've been in conversations about balancing our budget, which we have not done since 2004.  (And even that was a bit of an anomaly.)  We have been living beyond our means for a long time. Balancing the budget requires making difficult decisions about who we are and what we do and what is imperative to our shared life together, and it requires that we have really difficult conversations where we don't all agree – and that is anxiety producing as well.

It is tempting, in these days, to give up:  to stick our heads in the sand, or to lash out in anger, or to become comatose on the couch.  It is REALLY easy to let the anxiety win.

But.

Dear ones, beloveds of God, we aren't going to do that.  We aren't going to give in and we aren't going to lash out.  We aren't going to let anxiety take over.  We are going to keep on keeping on, working towards the kindom, loving each other, spreading love and goodness in the world, and trusting that God works with us, through us, and when necessary despite of us.  We are going to find the ways to let go of the anxiety, and find some trust and some hope, and be sources of transformation.

We are going to break out of the cycles, because anxiety is terrible for us, it is terrible for the world, and it enables all the things we don't want to see! Now, here is the weird twist.  Given all the brokenness of the world, it can feel really disrespectful, or trite, or privileged, or even mean to …. have fun, seek joy, laugh, and play.  (Or even just to take breaks and deal with reality for a bit.)  That's real!  I know how hard it can be to enjoy life when we know the awful things that are happening, but I want to share with you wisdom that I heard second hand.  This wisdom came from a person who was impoverished and disenfranchised in a country with dictatorial rule.  That person was asked, “Why are you so joyful when things are so bad!?” And they responded, “Why would we let them take our joy too?  It is all we have left.”  

Joy, it turns out, is resistance.  Joy is OURS to claim, and we shouldn't give it up, because giving it up won't help anyone – in fact it will hurt everyone.  The world needs more joy.

Joy, unlike anxiety, creates space for creativity, for connection, for hope.  Out of the box thinking can happen when joy replaces anxiety, and the problems of the world today REALLY need new solutions.  Joy makes space for people to regain their humanity.  And laughter really is the best medicine (trust me, I laughter until I cried at camp – twice – and I haven't felt so whole since before General Conference). Whatever you do, dear ones, don't cut out joy from your life.

And, if you need help getting to joy – which is totally fair – most wisdom teachers say gratitude is the way to get there.  So, practice advice here: keep a gratitude journal, and take 5 minutes at the end of each day to notice what you are grateful for in that day.  Putting our attention on what is good is a great way to create more good, and to make space in our lives for joy.

Now for the REALLY good news.  Our God is a God who knows all about oppression, and has worked to overcome it throughout all of history.  In all these years where I have become further and further disillusioned with society and the world, I have found great comfort in the Bible.  The Bible is VERY WELL AWARE of the brokenness of the world, of the reality of domination systems, AND of the power of God to break them open.  

The Bible tells this story innumerable times, but there are three really big versions of thie story:  (1) The Bible says that God knows about the oppression of slavery, and moves to free the people who are enslaved.  (2) The Bible says God knows about the oppression of exile, and moves the people to restoration.  (3) The Bible says God knows about the oppression of being part of empire because of the force of the military, and moves the people to empowerment, to resistance, and ultimately to freedom.  That is, the stories of (1) Exodus, of (2) Exile and Return, and (3) of the ministry of Jesus.

The passage from Isaiah today is a response to Exile and Return, and it speaks in the language of God as mother of the people, nursing them and caring for them.  After a WHOLE LOT of condemnation of the injustices of ancient Israel, in the end of Isaiah we hear, “ Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her-- that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious bosom.”  Rejoice with Jerusalem, despite it's history of oppression, despite its history of exile and destruction, none of those are the final words.  The final words are that God cares for the people and finds a way to nurture them and it brings great joy. The final words in the book of Isaiah are God's comfort, and care, and the people's JOY.  

I've told you before, but this bears repeating: Our faith says that Love wins in the end, and if Love hasn't won yet, then it isn't the end yet.  (In this case Love and God are interchangeable.)  The brokenness of day is not the final answer, God is still at work.  We are still partnering with God to make things better.  So, in the meantime, practice gratitude, find joy, allow for rest, and in doing so let go of anxiety.  God is working, and looking for for open-hearted, loving, partners to work alongside.  May we find MANY ways to be those people, and encourage each other towards joy.  Amen

--

Rev. Sara E. BaronFirst United Methodist Church of Schenectady603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305Pronouns: she/her/hershttp://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[samuelfields]

How To Plan For Your Retirement The Second Time Around

The main reason why I’ve gotten more conservative with my investments is not because valuation for the S&P 500 is near an all-time high and earnings growth is decelerating.

Nor have I gotten more defensive because housing inventory has shot up across major parts of the country and prices are clearly declining.

No. The main reason why I’ve gotten more conservative with my investments is because I’m very close to retiring for a second time.

Let me recap my background and share some retirement preparation plans if you’re also planning on retiring soon.

The Return To Retirement Living

After first retiring in 2012, I spent about nine months living the early retirement lifestyle. I wrote a book about my experience negotiating a severance and my wife and I traveled around the world for about 12 weeks.

By the beginning of 2013, I no longer told anybody I was retired. People gave me funny looks whenever I mentioned I had left corporate America for good. I also felt stupid saying I was retired in my mid-30s.

I longed for more purpose and a more acceptable identity that didn’t require explaining my background each time. So I decided to pivot from early retiree to full-time writer and entrepreneur.

Almost immediately, I felt better about my new role in the world. Growing Financial Samurai all these years has been incredibly fun.

On average, I spend about three hours a day on the site, which is one of the main reasons why it’s been so enjoyable. If I was forced to work 10 hours a day on FS and commute, I’d have probably started hating it after a year.

Having something intellectual to do, especially after my son was born in early 2017, has been a blessing. Being cooped up in the house all day is no fun for this stay at home dad.

Another thing I’ve enjoyed doing in my second career is mastering everything that relates to online publishing. From writing, to marketing, to business development, I now have a strong grasp on all the things it takes to build and run an online media company from the ground up.

Although it’s been seven years since I left full-time work, it’s been almost 10 years since I started Financial Samurai in 2009.

Back then, I had told myself that if I could reach various stretch goals by the summer of 2019, I would give myself the luxury of taking it easy once again.

The main stretch goal was to regularly generate over one million organic pageviews a month.

As fate would have it, I have the option to let go this summer and fully retire once more.

The Origin Of Luck And Fear

What I realize now is that whether by coincidence or on purpose, I’m living my life in 10-year cycles.

I first got a job out of college in 1999. Getting a job at a major investment bank was mostly luck because graduates out of a non-target public school usually don’t get these front office jobs in NYC.

Although there was the dot com bust in 2000, the 10-year journey from 1999 to 2009 was an overall positive for my career.

After about two years at the first investment bank, I got my second lucky break when a recruiter placed me at a new firm in 2001 in San Francisco. If I had not changed jobs, I would have been kicked to the curbed after my two years were up.

Then, of course, everything started crashing in 2008 – 2009. I was scared for my future given Lehman Brothers, Bear Sterns, Washington Mutual, and a bunch of other firms had collapsed. Friends were losing their jobs, their houses, and their savings.

Somehow, I managed to escape seven rounds of layoffs in a two year period at my firm. My immediate boss had left the firm to become a client the year prior. Thus, if the firm was to lay me off, it wouldn’t have had anybody to run the business. Another lucky break.

I was so worried about my future in 2009 that I decided to finally start Financial Samurai, an idea I had had since graduating from business school in 2006, but had been putting off.

If you look at the chart of when Financial Samurai was started, you’ll see that it was started at the exact bottom of the previous financial crisis in July 2009.

To start Financial Samurai at the bottom of the last financial crisis and then have a massive bull market help propel the site forward was also tremendously lucky.

Yes, I’ve spent many hours developing this site, but I fully admit that most of the growth is serendipitous. Living in San Francisco, the epicenter of technology and financial innovation has also helped me develop some key industry relationships.

If you started something in 2009, it would be relatively hard not to have successfully grown your business or your wealth.

The tailwind is like having a mentor who is actually the CEO of your company and also happens to be your dad who wants to give you the company. In such a scenario, how can you fail?

Since 1999 I’ve constantly wondered when my luck will run out. I’ve already talked about experiencing survivor’s guilt after my friend passed away when I was 15. All the good that has transpired since has only made me wonder more about the future.

Don’t Push Luck Too Far

Despite the good fortune, 2009 still burns deep in my psyche because of how badly my finances got crushed. Perhaps this is how survivors of the Great Depression felt for the rest of their lives.

I don’t want to ever again suffer through a 2009-like experience. I recently got a taste of temporarily losing lots of money in 2018, and that was enough.

I’m so thankful we’ve recovered and I no longer wish to push my luck.

2019 is the year where I plan to retire again after 10 years of running Financial Samurai. I’ll either sell the site, write less, or hire talented staff writers or guest writers to write using the Financial Samurai principles.

It’s been a great run, and I want to leave on an up note. If you are thinking of retiring for a first or second time, here are some things you should consider.

Retirement Planning Checklist

1) Adjust your risk exposure down.

As with any classic retiree in their 60s or 70s, it’s important to take down risk exposure because you no longer have the ability or the desire to work any longer.

Measure your risk tolerance in terms of the Financial SEER ratio. In other words, how many months are you willing to work to make up for a potential loss in retirement.

Once you’ve retired, you don’t want to be forced to go back to work. Giving up precious time for money is one thing, but so is the embarrassment of having to go back to work because of poor financial planning.

Debt should be completely eliminated or reduced to a level that will never be able to sink your finances.

2) Calculate your various income streams.

If after taxes, your income streams can sustain your desired retirement lifestyle, you’re golden. If not, keep working or build more side hustle income. To be conservative, it’s best to have at least a 20% cushion above your living expenses.

Plan out a tax-efficient safe withdrawal strategy based on a combination of your pre-tax and post-tax retirement accounts.

Those who want to stay conservative should try to only live off their after-tax passive income and never touch principal. Only when Required Minimum Distributions are in effect should you start drawing down principal.

3) Make sure you’ve accomplished all your goals.

When you leave your profession, you want to leave with as few regrets as possible. The best way to leave with few regrets is by fulfilling your stretch goals.

One of the reasons why professional athletes retire after winning the Super Bowl, a Major, or the NBA Championship is because there is no greater glory. During the rare times when such a champ tries to make a comeback, it’s often a sad affair filled with struggle.

If you cannot reach the pinnacle of your profession, one thing you must ask yourself is whether you’ll be leaving the place better than when you first started. If the answer is no, then you must take measures to rectify or continue working.

Retiring when your fund or company burned to the ground will make you feel like an unsettled ghost, unable to rest in peace. You want to go out on your own terms, which is why negotiating a severance can be incredibly powerful to your mental well-being.

4) Ensure your legacy will be left in good hands.

The longer you’ve worked, often the harder it is to walk away. The transition is made easier if you have someone you’ve trained or trust to take over once you’re gone.

The last thing you want is to have all your good work get undone by someone with a completely different philosophy. If this happens, you will feel as if you wasted many years of your life. Find an excellent successor and don’t leave until you do.

5) Have a next purpose.

You don’t want to retire into nothingness. Going from working 12 hours a day to having all the free time in the world can be very disconcerting. After being so used to structure for so long, you might start wondering what else is there to life. Some of you might even get depressed if you don’t have purpose.

Instead, diligently map out your retirement goals months or even years before you retire. You want to retire to something, not from something.

Start talking to people in the fields that interest you when you still have a job. Once you retire, it may be tougher to build relationships because society tends to look down of those who no longer work.

Having a clear purpose in retirement will make your remaining days at work even more meaningful. You’ll also experience a much more joyful retirement life.

Retire As Many Times As You Can

There doesn’t need to be only one retirement in your life. Instead, I encourage you to retire multiple times because that means you’re challenging yourself with new endeavors.

Whether you decide to retire for six months or for six years is up to you. There’s nothing more professionally fulfilling than mastering a new skill and enjoying its accompanying rewards.

Skills are highly fungible today thanks to technology. So long as you’re able to work hard, communicate intelligently, get along with others, and produce more than you cost, you can do well at almost anything because the rest is learned on the job.

I truly hope we never see another 2008 – 2009, nor am I anticipating a correction of such magnitude. I’m just not willing to take unwarranted chances given I’m satisfied with what I have.

With now a wife and son to take care of and potentially zero active income if I sell Financial Samurai, I can no longer afford to take any excess risk. To go through another 40% loss as I did in 2009 at this stage in my life would be devastating.

Our passive income should keep us afloat, but I haven’t truly been able to means test it yet due to my severance that paid out from 2012 – 2017 and the active income I’ve been generating from Financial Samurai.

From July 2019 – July 2029, I plan to spend my 40s primarily focused on raising my boy and spending time with my parents. If we relocate to Hawaii, we’ll have more than enough activities to keep us busy in our second go around.

Let’s pray the next 10 years are as lucky as the past 10!

Related Posts:

The First Rule Of Financial Independence: Never Lose Money

The Fear Of Running Out Of Money In Retirement Is Overblown

Readers, anybody on a 10-year cycle like me? How do you plan to ensure good fortune for the next 10 years of your life? Anybody retire a second or third time? How long did each retirement last and what did you do? What else should people do to prepare for retirement?

The post How To Plan For Your Retirement The Second Time Around appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from Finance https://www.financialsamurai.com/how-to-plan-for-your-retirement-the-second-time-around/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[ronaldmrashid]

How To Plan For Your Retirement The Second Time Around

The main reason why I’ve gotten more conservative with my investments is not because valuation for the S&P 500 is near an all-time high and earnings growth is decelerating.

Nor have I gotten more defensive because housing inventory has shot up across major parts of the country and prices are clearly declining.

No. The main reason why I’ve gotten more conservative with my investments is because I’m very close to retiring for a second time.

Let me recap my background and share some retirement preparation plans if you’re also planning on retiring soon.

The Return To Retirement Living

After first retiring in 2012, I spent about nine months living the early retirement lifestyle. I wrote a book about my experience negotiating a severance and my wife and I traveled around the world for about 12 weeks.

By the beginning of 2013, I no longer told anybody I was retired. People gave me funny looks whenever I mentioned I had left corporate America for good. I also felt stupid saying I was retired in my mid-30s.

I longed for more purpose and a more acceptable identity that didn’t require explaining my background each time. So I decided to pivot from early retiree to full-time writer and entrepreneur.

Almost immediately, I felt better about my new role in the world. Growing Financial Samurai all these years has been incredibly fun.

On average, I spend about three hours a day on the site, which is one of the main reasons why it’s been so enjoyable. If I was forced to work 10 hours a day on FS and commute, I’d have probably started hating it after a year.

Having something intellectual to do, especially after my son was born in early 2017, has been a blessing. Being cooped up in the house all day is no fun for this stay at home dad.

Another thing I’ve enjoyed doing in my second career is mastering everything that relates to online publishing. From writing, to marketing, to business development, I now have a strong grasp on all the things it takes to build and run an online media company from the ground up.

Although it’s been seven years since I left full-time work, it’s been almost 10 years since I started Financial Samurai in 2009.

Back then, I had told myself that if I could reach various stretch goals by the summer of 2019, I would give myself the luxury of taking it easy once again.

The main stretch goal was to regularly generate over one million organic pageviews a month.

As fate would have it, I have the option to let go this summer and fully retire once more.

The Origin Of Luck And Fear

What I realize now is that whether by coincidence or on purpose, I’m living my life in 10-year cycles.

I first got a job out of college in 1999. Getting a job at a major investment bank was mostly luck because graduates out of a non-target public school usually don’t get these front office jobs in NYC.

Although there was the dot com bust in 2000, the 10-year journey from 1999 to 2009 was an overall positive for my career.

After about two years at the first investment bank, I got my second lucky break when a recruiter placed me at a new firm in 2001 in San Francisco. If I had not changed jobs, I would have been kicked to the curbed after my two years were up.

Then, of course, everything started crashing in 2008 – 2009. I was scared for my future given Lehman Brothers, Bear Sterns, Washington Mutual, and a bunch of other firms had collapsed. Friends were losing their jobs, their houses, and their savings.

Somehow, I managed to escape seven rounds of layoffs in a two year period at my firm. My immediate boss had left the firm to become a client the year prior. Thus, if the firm was to lay me off, it wouldn’t have had anybody to run the business. Another lucky break.

I was so worried about my future in 2009 that I decided to finally start Financial Samurai, an idea I had had since graduating from business school in 2006, but had been putting off.

If you look at the chart of when Financial Samurai was started, you’ll see that it was started at the exact bottom of the previous financial crisis in July 2009.

To start Financial Samurai at the bottom of the last financial crisis and then have a massive bull market help propel the site forward was also tremendously lucky.

Yes, I’ve spent many hours developing this site, but I fully admit that most of the growth is serendipitous. Living in San Francisco, the epicenter of technology and financial innovation has also helped me develop some key industry relationships.

If you started something in 2009, it would be relatively hard not to have successfully grown your business or your wealth.

The tailwind is like having a mentor who is actually the CEO of your company and also happens to be your dad who wants to give you the company. In such a scenario, how can you fail?

Since 1999 I’ve constantly wondered when my luck will run out. I’ve already talked about experiencing survivor’s guilt after my friend passed away when I was 15. All the good that has transpired since has only made me wonder more about the future.

Don’t Push Luck Too Far

Despite the good fortune, 2009 still burns deep in my psyche because of how badly my finances got crushed. Perhaps this is how survivors of the Great Depression felt for the rest of their lives.

I don’t want to ever again suffer through a 2009-like experience. I recently got a taste of temporarily losing lots of money in 2018, and that was enough.

I’m so thankful we’ve recovered and I no longer wish to push my luck.

2019 is the year where I plan to retire again after 10 years of running Financial Samurai. I’ll either sell the site, write less, or hire talented staff writers or guest writers to write using the Financial Samurai principles.

It’s been a great run, and I want to leave on an up note. If you are thinking of retiring for a first or second time, here are some things you should consider.

Retirement Planning Checklist

1) Adjust your risk exposure down.

As with any classic retiree in their 60s or 70s, it’s important to take down risk exposure because you no longer have the ability or the desire to work any longer.

Measure your risk tolerance in terms of the Financial SEER ratio. In other words, how many months are you willing to work to make up for a potential loss in retirement.

Once you’ve retired, you don’t want to be forced to go back to work. Giving up precious time for money is one thing, but so is the embarrassment of having to go back to work because of poor financial planning.

Debt should be completely eliminated or reduced to a level that will never be able to sink your finances.

2) Calculate your various income streams.

If after taxes, your income streams can sustain your desired retirement lifestyle, you’re golden. If not, keep working or build more side hustle income. To be conservative, it’s best to have at least a 20% cushion above your living expenses.

Plan out a tax-efficient safe withdrawal strategy based on a combination of your pre-tax and post-tax retirement accounts.

Those who want to stay conservative should try to only live off their after-tax passive income and never touch principal. Only when Required Minimum Distributions are in effect should you start drawing down principal.

3) Make sure you’ve accomplished all your goals.

When you leave your profession, you want to leave with as few regrets as possible. The best way to leave with few regrets is by fulfilling your stretch goals.

One of the reasons why professional athletes retire after winning the Super Bowl, a Major, or the NBA Championship is because there is no greater glory. During the rare times when such a champ tries to make a comeback, it’s often a sad affair filled with struggle.

If you cannot reach the pinnacle of your profession, one thing you must ask yourself is whether you’ll be leaving the place better than when you first started. If the answer is no, then you must take measures to rectify or continue working.

Retiring when your fund or company burned to the ground will make you feel like an unsettled ghost, unable to rest in peace. You want to go out on your own terms, which is why negotiating a severance can be incredibly powerful to your mental well-being.

4) Ensure your legacy will be left in good hands.

The longer you’ve worked, often the harder it is to walk away. The transition is made easier if you have someone you’ve trained or trust to take over once you’re gone.

The last thing you want is to have all your good work get undone by someone with a completely different philosophy. If this happens, you will feel as if you wasted many years of your life. Find an excellent successor and don’t leave until you do.

5) Have a next purpose.

You don’t want to retire into nothingness. Going from working 12 hours a day to having all the free time in the world can be very disconcerting. After being so used to structure for so long, you might start wondering what else is there to life. Some of you might even get depressed if you don’t have purpose.

Instead, diligently map out your retirement goals months or even years before you retire. You want to retire to something, not from something.

Start talking to people in the fields that interest you when you still have a job. Once you retire, it may be tougher to build relationships because society tends to look down of those who no longer work.

Having a clear purpose in retirement will make your remaining days at work even more meaningful. You’ll also experience a much more joyful retirement life.

Retire As Many Times As You Can

There doesn’t need to be only one retirement in your life. Instead, I encourage you to retire multiple times because that means you’re challenging yourself with new endeavors.

Whether you decide to retire for six months or for six years is up to you. There’s nothing more professionally fulfilling than mastering a new skill and enjoying its accompanying rewards.

Skills are highly fungible today thanks to technology. So long as you’re able to work hard, communicate intelligently, get along with others, and produce more than you cost, you can do well at almost anything because the rest is learned on the job.

I truly hope we never see another 2008 – 2009, nor am I anticipating a correction of such magnitude. I’m just not willing to take unwarranted chances given I’m satisfied with what I have.

With now a wife and son to take care of and potentially zero active income if I sell Financial Samurai, I can no longer afford to take any excess risk. To go through another 40% loss as I did in 2009 at this stage in my life would be devastating.

Our passive income should keep us afloat, but I haven’t truly been able to means test it yet due to my severance that paid out from 2012 – 2017 and the active income I’ve been generating from Financial Samurai.

From July 2019 – July 2029, I plan to spend my 40s primarily focused on raising my boy and spending time with my parents. If we relocate to Hawaii, we’ll have more than enough activities to keep us busy in our second go around.

Let’s pray the next 10 years are as lucky as the past 10!

Related Posts:

The First Rule Of Financial Independence: Never Lose Money

The Fear Of Running Out Of Money In Retirement Is Overblown

Readers, anybody on a 10-year cycle like me? How do you plan to ensure good fortune for the next 10 years of your life? Anybody retire a second or third time? How long did each retirement last and what did you do? What else should people do to prepare for retirement?

The post How To Plan For Your Retirement The Second Time Around appeared first on Financial Samurai.

from https://www.financialsamurai.com/how-to-plan-for-your-retirement-the-second-time-around/

[your-lady-star]

Revealing the Star: Triumphant Takumi

Takumi has got to be one of the most interesting, thought provoking, complex and well designed characters to come out of Fates. Much like many of the best characters in the game, Takumi is one that you need to invest your time into in order to truly understand him. Judging based on face value alone might put off a lot of people towards him. After all, he doesn’t exactly make the best first impression. But once you’re willing to look past it and give him the time to grow on you, you’ll find that there is a lot to unpack in him and that there is something truly depressing to his overall theme. And I find all that connects to his unfortunate title of being Fire Emblem Fates’

#1 most damaged character.

Once upon a time, I would have easily given that title to Camilla. There really is a lot of damage on her (if you want to see the full scoop, I recommend checking out Ghast Stations support science video on Camilla), but even with that, we see clear moments of respite and enjoyment in her life regardless of what she’s dealing with.

In the case of Takumi, however, there are no moments of respite or enjoyment.

Unlike Leo, whose inferiority complex only affects how he interacts with his siblings, Takumi’s is so severe it affects how he interacts with everything. It’s not just the sense of inadequacy within his family, it’s the sense that he just doesn’t belong in the world, that he won’t ever be able to make a name for himself regardless of what he does and that he simply isn’t capable of even trying.

In fact, after doing some research on this, I found that Takumi might be going through something even more dangerous. Not only is he dealing with an intense inferiority complex, but I’ve actually seen some signs of possible schizophrenia. Schizophrenia is a mental disorder that affects the way one thinks, acts and behaves. And after looking through the signs one shows when suffering from it, I’ve seen that a lot of them are extremely similar to how Takumi acts in some moments through the games. His standoff attitude, the words and actions he does without wanting to, the belief that others are always talking about him behind his back and the fact that the archives label him as the character that has the worst nightmares all point to signs that Takumi might be suffering more than any of us initially thought.

And because none of the characters or the audience seems to be aware of this, it’s what’s caused so many to just assume Takumi to be just a jerk and just ignore him, which is only making the whole thing worse. Takumi already believes that no one loves him, so people avoiding him because they just think he’s rude and can’t be reasoned with will only allow him to sink further into his disease. People who are suffering from any form of mental illness need to be treated. Ignoring the problem in hopes that it will go away will only make it steadily worse. And with people like Takumi, you need to let them know that not only do you love them, but that you’re always there for them.

And, surprisingly, despite Takumi seeming to try and isolate himself from others in order to avoid getting hurt, he has managed to subconsciously surround himself with quite the large group of people who want to help him. And none more so than his  

2 loyal retainers.

Even though we don’t know much on the history between Takumi and his retainers or just how long they’ve been together, one thing has been made clear from watching the way these two interact with their lord: they help to bring out the best in him.

It seems like, more so than anyone, Oboro and Hinata know who the real Takumi is. They have seen what he’s like when he’s truly happy and not worrying about his presence to the world. And it seems like they want to make that side of him more well known. They want others to see the Takumi that is more caring, supportive and lighthearted. And even if they aren’t able to do so, they enjoy the time they spend with him and the connections they formed with him. And what I like most about their bond is how both of them bring out different sides to Takumi.

Hinata’s supports with him show him trying to get Takumi to lighten up and just enjoy his time, and throughout the whole ordeal, it’s not his enjoyment he’s focused on, it’s Takumi’s. How he turns out isn’t what’s important; what’s important is knowing that Takumi had fun during the whole thing and all his effort didn’t go to waste.

Oboro’s is the one I find more interesting, for one big reason. This support showed a new and vastly unseen part of Takumi. Rather than being the one doted on and needing comfort, he’s the one comforting someone else and helping to ease their pain. In this moment, Takumi realizes that he isn’t the only one dealing with deep mentally scarring issues and he puts aside his own pain for the sake of another. It’s what helps to make the bond feel genuine, and unlike a certain pairing in Awakening that demands that we treat it as canon despite them having less chemistry than a rock and a tree, Takumi and Oboro’s relationship seems believable and understandable.

And it’s not just their bond that he has to show for, there’s also the bond he shares with his

3 siblings.

Though, in all fairness, his bond with them isn’t the greatest.

Not to say that they don’t love or care for him, they definitely do and are trying their best to slowly help him, but there is one big obstacle that holds it back.

They’re not really all that good at expressing it.

Ryoma’s bad habit of preferring an easy short term solution, Hinoka being so determined to maintain her tomboy image that I’m pretty sure if she even glances at a dress she’ll explode, and Sakura being so timid and unsure of herself that I’m surprised she isn’t scared of her own shadow don’t really help much in that matter. And considering their complete focus on trying to get back Corrin; let’s just say that it doesn’t surprise me that, even after all these years, Takumi is still suffering.

His siblings have some serious faults in how they handle themselves that they really need to fix if they want to get Takumi any closer to feeling better.

Especially considering that I counted

4 times he fell victim to the world.

Having his mind manipulated by both Anankos and Iago. Nearly succumbing to a fatal illness. Being held hostage by a disguised Zola. And nearly falling into the bottomless void of Valla.

I can’t blame Takumi for thinking that the world is out to get him, since he does seem to somehow have worse luck than Arthur. He has unfortunately painted a giant target on him by showing just how vulnerable he is and how easy it is to manipulate him. I can definitely see why Anankos made him his primary puppet.

Because of the constant hesitations, doubts and emotional turmoil he suffers on an hourly basis, Takumi has made himself very vulnerable and prone to be put into dangerous situations. And I find that it comes from two distinct traits to him. For one, because he can be a bit blunt and careless with his words and actions, it was easy for no one to realize that he was being manipulated and slowly corrupted. And second, aside from Ryoma, Takumi is easily the strongest member or the Hoshidan army, if not all the Fates characters. When you manage to get rid of the strongest person in an army, you almost immediately get the advantage over your foe. And if you can get that person on your side, you pretty much secure an instant victory for you. With this, it’s no wonder why Takumi is both desired and dreaded. And it’s pretty clear which side Takumi listens to more.

Yet in spite of all the turmoil he deals with on a daily basis, not only does he remain one of the most popular characters in Fates, he still remains the most desired

5 star hero.

I know that so long as new heroes get added, this statement is going to become less and less credible, but I still believe that even with all the new characters we’ve gotten, Takumi is still one of the most sought after units. I still see post from people who lament how they have yet to get him or celebrating how joyful they are to have him. And while it’s easy to hate on him because of how overpowered he is and how much it can pain people to have to face him in the arena, especially with recent updates, but that’s more down to the people that abuse him rather than the actual character.

And I know I might seem pretty biased, since I am guilty of using him on my main team. But allow me state why not only I, but many others like me, use him. Not because of his strength, but his character.

I stand by the belief that most if not all the Fates characters in Heroes are of a post Revelations universe. And if that is the case, it does explain Takumi’s personality in this. He seems to have mellowed out from his previous persona and is less harsh on himself. Granted, yes, he still has doubts and issues and he does still think that others look down on him, but it feels like he is slowly growing more confident in himself and is working to stand tall more often.

And that’s easily the best part about Takumi.

He’s easily the character we cheer for the most. The one we want to see grow and better himself. The one we want to see come out happy. We want to see him succeed and earn the peace he so truly deserves.

And with how things are going for him, I think it’s safe to say that he just might be on the right path.

Links: http://knowyourmeme.com/photos/1100832-fire-emblem

https://www.paigeeworld.com/post/587881282cedaabf0e48f6a5/fanartfriday-takumi-fireemblem-fireemblemfates-hoshido-drawing-by-theoresama

http://akimiya.deviantart.com/art/FE-Fates-Hoshido-608000947

http://shintokiame.deviantart.com/art/Blame-Takumi-595157360 

[dust2dust34]

Pieces of Always: December 2021 (FICoN ‘verse)

Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows.

by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34

Summary:  Oliver and Felicity have some exciting news for their daughters.

An ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. (You do not need to have read FiCoN to enjoy this, but it will spoil the end. Please see the first installment for additional author notes. Thank you @jsevick​ and @alizziebyanyothername for the amazing beta!)

A/N: Please see the first chapter for an important Author’s Note, as well as under the cut for an additional one.

A/N: I am taking more of a beta role for right now. The effervescent @so-caffeinated is fully in the driver’s seat and she’s kicking all the ass, so please go send her your love!

(read on AO3)

December 2021 - Origin Story

It’s not like it will be a surprise to anyone in their lives when Oliver and Felicity tell them that she’s pregnant. The whole family is well aware that they expect to have a third child, as well as when he will be born and that he’ll be a boy and what his name will be.

Nate.

Their little boy. Felicity absolutely cannot wait for their son. She doesn’t know if the other her had longed for another baby, had planned it out and started taking prenatal vitamins a full month before she’d even conceived him, but she sure did. Oliver had done a double take when he’d found the bottle of oversized vitamins in their medicine cabinet.

“Not yet,” she’d told him before he’d even had a chance to voice his question. “But I’d really like to make another baby with you.”

He had enthusiastically agreed and their afternoon plans had changed on a dime. The timing had been wrong then - they hadn’t conceived him for several more weeks - but… hey, practice makes perfect, right?

And their little boy will be perfect. Felicity knows that with every fiber of her being.

This pregnancy, in some ways, is like a strange mixture of when she’d been expecting Jules and Ellie. With Jules, everything had been such an unknown. She’d been so very unexpected. At the time, Felicity had privately thought her first child might be Ellie, just born sooner. Time finds a way, after all. Right? But a head full of wispy dark hair when her oldest had been born was a dead giveaway that Jules was a very different person from Ellie, their someday child.

Coming to terms with that had been harder than she could have expected. In some ways, it had felt like losing Ellie all over again and it had taken a painfully long time to realize that the hollow sense of loss and inadequacy she felt was actually a rough case of postpartum depression, not any kind of failing on her part.

Her experience with Ellie had been entirely different, but her depression after the birth had not. It had brought all the same feelings of inexplicable hopelessness and exhaustion, the same certainty that she wasn’t good enough, that her children deserved a better mother than her. But she’d known what it was that time, at least. So had Oliver. They’d learned the hard way with Jules, and she knows full well that neither of them will ever forget the day he found her sobbing uncontrollably in the rocking chair in the nursery while Jules gurgled away happily in her crib. And when she’d started down that path again, they’d quickly gotten her the help she’d needed to work through it.

She expects the same thing will happen with Nate, but that doesn’t make her any less excited about her son right now.

Like with Ellie, she has a rough sense of what’s coming. She knows, if things hold true to the other universe, what his birthday will be, that he’ll be healthy. She doesn’t know him, not like she’d known Ellie before her birth, but she’s nowhere near as in the dark as she’d been with Jules and she feels like she has a sense of what’s coming.

The girls, however, do not.

In the last three months, she’s had a ‘stomach bug’ or ‘food poisoning’ almost constantly. Her mom and Moira have both been staring at her midsection more than her face and Thea had not-so-covertly started leaving baby boy clothes in the spare room that they long ago decided would be Nate’s. Her sister-in-law is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them.

Still, they haven’t told anyone yet. She’d wanted to get through the first trimester before confirming the suspicions of virtually everyone they know - even Samantha had offered saltines and herbal tea when they’d picked up William last weekend. They’re fooling precisely no one.

Except their daughters.

But, that’s going to end today, because today marks the first day of her second trimester and she’s started having to use hair ties to fasten her jeans because she absolutely refuses to switch to maternity pants when she’s only three months pregnant. Honestly, she knows you show earlier if you’ve already had a pregnancy under your belt - so to speak - but come on. How big is this kid gonna be?

“You ready for this?” Oliver asks, coming up behind her and resting his chin on her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her and rests his hands against the barely-there swell of her belly. His inability to keep his hands off her midsection lately would probably be a dead giveaway to the adults in their lives, even if they hadn’t known about their inevitable third child.

“So ready,” she confirms, leaning back against him and running her hands down his forearms to lace her fingers with his over the curve of her stomach. “But do you think they are?”

“Ellie’s going to be thrilled,” he tells her immediately. That’s the easy part, though. Felicity already knew that. “And Jules…”

“She’s a wild card,” Felicity murmurs, because she knows what her husband is thinking. Sometimes their oldest is so hard to read.

“Yeah,” Oliver agrees. “She is. But she adores her big brother so maybe she’ll be excited about a little brother, too.” Felicity tilts her head to look back at him with a raised eyebrow. “Or not,” he acknowledges. “A newborn isn’t the same as a teenager who’s happy to take you to the park and play with you. But she’ll adjust.”

Felicity nods slowly at that, because it’s absolutely true. She’ll adjust. She’ll have to, but Felicity also can’t convince herself that’s going to be a quick or easy process. Jules is very protective of her family, but she’s even more protective of herself. She shares so little of what she’s thinking sometimes and Felicity would give almost anything for her daughter to be just a bit more open, just a little more revealing about what’s going on in her head.

“Well then… I guess she should get started on that,” Felicity ventures. “She’s only got another six months or so to prepare.” If she sounds a bit nervous, that’s because she is. Hormones are a crazy thing and she’s pretty sure she’ll bust out crying if Jules gets angry about having to welcome a baby brother into her home. “Unless you want to wait until next weekend when Will’s here?”

They’ve had this conversation more than once. Felicity still thinks Jules might handle it better if Will’s at her side, excited about yet another sibling. But Oliver’s barely managed to hold to her ‘wait-for-the-second-trimester rule’ as it is and there’s no way he’s putting it off another weekend.

Oliver turns sheepish. “I told Sam we wanted to swing by with pizza and treat them for dinner tonight,” he confesses. That surprises Felicity a little and it must show because he flushes a little and asks, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” she answers right away. “It’d be nice to see Will and I’m sure he’ll be happy. I just didn’t expect that. Did you want to wait and tell the girls along with him?”

“I don’t think so,” Oliver says. “I think we should tell them now.”

Yeah, he doesn’t have a reason for that opinion and she knows it. He’s just bursting at the seams to tell the girls and even waiting a few hours isn’t something he’s willing to do. He kind of wants to tell the whole world, she thinks.

Felicity stares at him. “We have lunch plans with your mom and sister tomorrow, don’t we?” she asks as the idea dawns on her.

“No…” Oliver says, shifting and fidgeting slightly before clearing his throat. “It’s brunch.”

Felicity chuckles and shakes her head at him in disbelief. How is he so adorable about this? It’s sort of blowing her away and she wants to kiss him senseless, drag him to their room and fully illustrate her appreciation of him. But that’s the sudden lack of nausea and the flood of pregnancy hormones talking and right now they’ve got two little girls to clue in on the fact that they’re going to be big sisters.

“Okay, stud,” she grins, letting go of one of his hands to slide her fingers up the back of his neck as she twists a bit to kiss him. “You can shout it from the rooftops all you want… not literally, please. Like, that’s a thing that might be slightly awkward. Especially since usually when you’re on rooftops, you’re dressed all in green and all ‘grrrr you’ve failed this city’ and it would be really problematic to follow up with ‘and by the way I impregnated my wife again.’”

“That might be a big clue to my identity,” he agrees with a laugh as he steps back a bit and tugs her arm to turn her to face him. “But even as the Arrow I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the grin off my face.” He presses his forehead to hers with a quiet, “Thank you for making me a dad again.”

Felicity smiles. “My pleasure,” she replies. “Like, literally. Super fun times. I enjoyed that process thoroughly.”

The laugh he lets out at that is full-throated and entirely joyful. She loves that sound, loves the abandon he can let go with these days. It’s such a far cry from when they met. She’s not fool enough to think the darkness that’s haunted his life is gone. It’s not. She knows that. But there’s balance now, a life that brings him fulfillment and reason beyond the narrow confines of a mission he inherited from his father. And that’s a beautiful thing to see, but it’s an even more beautiful thing to be a part of.

“Come on,” he says, kissing her softly against and squeezing her hand in his. “Girls in their rooms?”

“Jules is,” Felicity answers. “Ellie was watching tv in the family room.”

He nods and starts toward the stairs, her hand still tucked in his. And, sure enough, they find Ellie flopped in front of the television, lying on her belly with her feet kicked up in the air as she focuses entirely on Rascal the Racoon and his woodland friends.

“Hey kiddo,” Felicity greets. “How much longer is your show?”

“Dunno,” the three-year-old replies.

“Hit pause, Ellie-bug,” Oliver tells her. It takes a moment for the words to register with the toddler, she’s so zoned out on the television, but when they do she sighs and stops the program. It’s almost done, just a few minutes left, and Felicity can’t help but think the timing is just about perfect.

“Don’t start another one and don’t go anywhere, okay?” she requests.

“‘Kay,” Ellie replies. She’s already hit play again and Felicity would bet excellent money that she hadn’t even really heard the words. Her love of this show is absurd. But then Felicity knew it would be. There’d never been a doubt about that; some things in the universe are a constant, it seems, and Ellie’s love of Rascal the Raccoon appears to be one of those things.

This Ellie is not the same as the first one. Oh, they’re very similar and physically are absolutely identical - something that’s become painfully apparent as Ellie closes in on the age she’d been when the first Ellie had burst into their lives. But her life has been different from the start.

She has an older sister, both grandmothers, a chronically ill aunt, and she’ll never have to worry about villains like Zoom and Malcolm Merlyn. Of course she’s different. She’d have to be. And sometimes Felicity finds herself wondering about the other Ellie, the first one. Who she is, what she’s done with her life, if she’s okay… She owes that little girl a lot and she will always love her fiercely. But she’s a wholly different person from the Ellie lying on the floor in front of her, despite appearances.

A tug on her hand brings her mind back to the here and now as Oliver guides them toward Jules’ room. The door’s open and they find the almost-seven-year-old staring intensely at a piece of paper on her art desk as she dips a paintbrush in a murky jar of water to rinse it off. The intensity in her little girl’s eyes is astounding for a first-grader. She’s so very honed in on what she’s doing. But that’s Jules. She plans, she sorts things out, and then she acts. It’s no different with painting than it is with conversation. Everything she shows is precisely what she wants to show. But, unlike in conversation, her painting is so very expressive. That had been a surprise to find, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. She’s always given so much to her dancing, too.

“How’s the painting going?” Oliver asks, leaning against the doorway.

“Good,” Jules says without looking up. She bites her lower lip and Felicity makes a mental note to pick her up some chapstick. She does that far too often when she’s painting and this winter’s been a cold one so far. Jules is prone to chapped lips far more than her sister. “Sorta good,” she amends. “Fur is really hard. I wanted to paint a monkey for Will, ‘cause he’s goofy like a monkey, but it’s real hard.”

“I bet he’ll love it no matter what,” Oliver tells her with absolute certainty. It’s true. Will’s entirely enamored with his siblings and Felicity’s pretty sure they can do no wrong in his eyes. Jules in particular seems to need that. She’s happier when he’s around, more herself. As if Felicity needed yet another reason to wish her stepson were around more. “How about you take a break though?” Oliver continues. “Mom and I wanted to have a family meeting.”

Jules goes entirely still at that, save for the way her eyes dart between her parents with tremendous suspicion. “What’s wrong?” she asks after a moment.

“Nothing,” Oliver laughs. “It’s nothing bad, kiddo. Just leave the paints for a minute and come join us in the family room.”

“Wash your hands first, too, please,” Felicity adds, because she can see wet traces of primary colors on her daughter’s nails even from the doorway.

“Okay,” Jules says, dragging the word out with tremendous hesitation, closing up her paints. She’s so wary sometimes. People who don’t actually know her seem to find it cute, but it just makes Felicity worry. Parenting in general makes her worry. The kids are never far from her thoughts and there’s no shortage of things to bring out her concern.

“I’ll get the sink for you,” Felicity offers, taking a step away from her husband and nodding toward the restroom down the hall. “We don’t want the knobs to the faucet turning red from all that paint.”

“True,” Jules agrees, looking down at her hands as she follows after her mom. Oliver’s stepped away, heading back toward the family room and Ellie.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” Felicity says when she and Jules reach the bathroom. She flips on the light and bends over to push the stepstool Ellie needs away from the sink. Jules is tall enough that it’s more in the way than a help at this point.

“Thanks,” Jules tells her as Felicity stands back up and turns on the water.

“No problem,” Felicity replies as the little girl quietly washes her hands. She’s being so quiet, internalizing so much right now and Felicity knows that’s mostly worry about whatever the family meeting is about, but it’s also been more and more common with Jules. It’s such a gradual thing. Felicity can’t even pinpoint when that all started, but she knows it wasn’t always like that. At least, not to the extent it is now. Jules has always been more reserved than her sister or Will. It’s just part of who she is, it seems, but it also feels like she’s subtly, slowly closed herself off more and more over time. It’s confusing and worrying, but she has no idea what to do about it. She doesn’t even know if she should do anything about it beyond love and accept her little girl.

“All clean,” Felicity announces, handing her daughter a towel and turning off the water. Jules says thanks again, but it’s done absently, more of an automatic reaction than anything else. “We’re having dinner with Will and his mom tonight,” Felicity says. Predictably, Jules perks up immediately.

“Really?” she asks, looking up with a spark of excitement.

“Yup, really,” Felicity confirms, allowing herself to relax some because Jules is showing a sliver of happiness and she knows how to encourage that right now. “We’re bringing over pizza and spending the evening with them.”

“Cool,” Jules says, smiling at her toes through a curtain of dark hair. Felicity can’t help tucking some of it behind her ear.

“Come on, kiddo,” she says. “This shouldn’t take long and then you can get back to your painting. Maybe you can finish it in time for tonight.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jules agrees as the two of them head out to the family room to join Ellie and Oliver.

“No, see, because Chester the Chipmunk took all the nuts and that wasn’t fair,” Ellie’s saying, her little voice drifting down the hall. “It’s a problem, Daddy. He needs to learn to share. Poor Rascal was so hungry!”

Felicity can’t help but smile as she hears Oliver softly reply with, “He does. I bet you could have taught him, Ellie-bug, and I know you would have shared.” Ellie’s huff and, “Daddy… they’re cartoons with cartoon nuts. I can’t be there. It doesn’t work like that,” is maybe the cutest thing she’s heard today. Her grin is blinding by the time she gets to the family room with Jules at her side.

“Hey, ladies,” Oliver greets them where he and Ellie sit on the floor. “Jules, why don’t you have a seat next to Ellie. Mom and I want to tell you something.”

“Are we going to Disney World?” Ellie asks immediately, sitting up straight, her eyes alight at the prospect.

“No, that’s… no,” Felicity says, wondering how her daughter came to this conclusion. Jules is shaking her head at Ellie as she sits next to her on the carpet. Oliver offers Felicity his hand as she moves to sit next to him with their backs to the base of the sofa. She’s barely showing, of course, but her balance is already a touch off-kilter and she almost falls as she tries to sit down.

“Is Mommy okay?” Jules asks, her voice painfully quiet and tremendously worried. Felicity’s eyes snap to her daughter’s immediately and she’s surprised at the honest concern reflected back at her.

“I’m fine, Jules,” she reassures the little girl. “Promise.”

“‘Cause…” Jules starts, swallowing hard and licking her lips. “‘Cause Ginger’s mom threw up lots and got dizzy, too, and she said she was fine but then her doctor said she wasn’t and she had to have the doctors cut her open and they thought she might even die and it got real bad.”

“Oh, Jules, baby… no,” Felicity says, reaching over to her daughter and tugging her close. Jules is tense as anything, but Felicity isn’t about to let up. Not now, not with this. Ellie looks a little panicked all the sudden too, but she gets up on her own and scrambles between her parents. “That’s not it at all. I already went to the doctor and I’m fine. In fact, I’m even better than fine.”

“Momma… throwing up is not better than fine,” Ellie says patiently, patting her thigh. “Throwing up is extra super gross, especially after you’ve just had rice cause then it gets stuck in-”

“Okay, yes, throwing up is gross,” Felicity interrupts because she really doesn’t need to hear the rest of Ellie’s detailed analysis on why rice is the worst. “But I don’t think I’ll be doing that anymore.”

“Did the doctor tell you not to cook?” Ellie asks in the most innocent little voice ever.

Oliver tries to hide his face as he laughs, but he’s way too amused for that to work and Felicity can barely work up a half-hearted scowl in his direction anyhow because he’s not exactly wrong.

“No,” Felicity says slowly, raising an eyebrow at her husband until his laughter dims to a light chuckle and a grin. Jules shifts nervously beside her though and she knows the little girl’s worries haven’t faded. “No, he told me that your daddy and I are going to have another baby.”

“Oh!” Ellie says as Oliver wraps an arm around her and hugs her to his side. She looks down to her mother’s midsection before looking back up. “There’s a baby in your tummy? It made you throw up? That’s not very nice of it.”

“There is,” Felicity agrees, bopping Ellie on the nose with her finger. “And you made me throw up when I was pregnant with you too, Ellie-bug. So did Jules. That’s pretty common. Your little brother doesn’t mean to make me feel sick.”

It hasn’t escaped her that Jules has yet to share a reaction and she wants to refocus on her older child, but Ellie jumps in with, “It’s a boy?” just as she’s turning toward Jules.

“Of course it’s a boy,” Jules says. “It’s Nate, dummy.”

“Hey,” Oliver says sharply. “We don’t use that word and it’s not true. Apologize, right now, Julianna.”

“Sorry,” Jules grumbles. Ellie still looks hurt and confused, though, and it’s a little heartbreaking. Jules doesn’t seem to have any clue how deeply she affects her sister. “It’s just… we knew this would happen, right?”

“We knew it could,” Felicity agrees slowly, because surely they could have changed things had they wanted to. But she’s looked forward to this baby boy for years. Maybe it’s that she’s got a few years as a mother under her belt, maybe it’s because she feels a little more prepared for all the challenges an infant brings with them this time, but she’s so very excited about her son that she might burst. It’s different than before. The hint of panic about her first pregnancy is nowhere to be found and the strange set of expectations that came with Ellie are absent this time, too. There’s just… a little boy she can’t wait to meet and welcome into the home and family that’s more than ready for him.

“How’d he get there?” Ellie asks suddenly, quirking her head to the side and leaning forward to stare at her mother’s belly up close.

“Uh…” Oliver starts, flushing and clearing his throat.

“He’s from the other universe, remember?” Jules asks her sister with a deep sigh.

Wait… What?

“He popped into mommy’s belly?” Ellie asks, eyes going wide. “No wonder she felt like falling down! How’d he do that?”

“Same way you did, I guess,” Jules tells her.

“That’s not…” Felicity starts, shaking her head and looking to Oliver who seems every bit as thrown as her. “Honey, that’s not what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Jules asks, lines of deep confusion working their way across her brow. “You were waiting for them from the other timeline, the one we’re not supposed to talk about with other people.”

“No, they aren’t the same, Jules,” Oliver tells her. “It’s like… it’s like… Felicity, help me out here.”

“It’s like cookies,” Felicity says. She’s hardpressed to decide who has the most confused face - her husband or her daughters - but she’s started with this metaphor and by God she’s gonna keep going with it. “Daddy and I were cookie batter but we hadn’t baked yet. And someone else had made cookies with the same sets of ingredients. So we could see that they had some cookies with chocolate chips and some with raisins. And we knew we could be those kinds of cookies too, but not with the same raisins or chocolate chips.”

“I don’t want to be a raisin,” Ellie says with great distress. “Raisins are yucky.”

“I don’t understand,” Jules admits.

“Neither do I and I know what she’s trying to describe,” Oliver tells her.

“How about you try then, Daddy,” Jules suggests. “Because right now I still think Nate popped into Mommy’s tummy from the other universe. It makes more sense.”

“Your mom and I had a very special chance to get a look at what our lives could be like,” Oliver tells her. “Like seeing ourselves on television, I guess. We got to meet the Ellie that another copy of us had. We learned about Nate, too. But we didn’t get to keep that Ellie or take that Nate. We made our own.”

“How’d ya’ do that?” Ellie asks.

“Uh…” Felicity chokes.

“My friend Tara says it’s from storks, but I think that’s silly,” Jules tells Ellie. “I’ve never even seen a stork and I’ve seen loads of babies.”

“Me too,” Ellie agrees. “So, how’d Nate get in there, Momma?”

“There is… a way,” Felicity replies slowly, her voice faltering. “A very special way. When mommies and daddies love each other enough and they want to have a baby then sometimes they… do?”

“Is that a question?” Jules asks, looking at her mother like she’s crazy. “You don’t sound very sure. Maybe you should ask your doctor.”

“I love loads of people and I like babies,” Ellie announces. “Does that mean there’s a baby in my belly, too?”

“No, it doesn’t work that way,” Oliver tells her. He looks a little shellshocked at the question.

“You sound sure, but I don’t think you really know,” Ellie decides aloud.

“This is my fourth child,” Oliver points out, sounding a little affronted. “I think I know how babies are made by now.”

“I think maybe we should ask grandma,” Jules decides, standing up. “She’d know for sure. Or Uncle Digg. He knows everything.”

“He’ll be pleased to hear that,” Felicity supplies with amusement as Oliver says, “Please don’t ask Uncle Digg where babies come from, Jules.”

“When’s he coming out?” Ellie asks, leaning her full weight on her forearms against her mother’s thigh and poking one finger at her belly. “How’s he gonna get out of you? There’s not a door. Does he come out your belly button?”

“June. And… that’s… an excellent question, about how he gets out,” Felicity says, laughing nervously. “How about we have another family meeting after I… look up how to talk to you about all this?”

“You don’t remember?” Ellie questions. “I guess it’s been a long time since I was born. Three and a half whole years.”

“Maybe the baby makes it hard to remember things, too,” Jules suggests. “But you’d think Daddy would remember how it works.”

“Maybe there’s a baby in him, too!” Ellie suggests.

“Don’t be silly, Ellie. That’s what mommies do, not daddies,” Jules tells her.

“But mommy and daddy both love each other so much so maybe they made two babies by mistake,” Ellie insists.

“There’s just the one,” Felicity tells her, trying not to envision the notion of twins and blinking that idea away. She’s utterly thrilled to be having Nate, but wow is she glad there’s just one of him. “The doctor said so. He even gave me a picture. Did you want to see it?”

“Yes!” Ellie declares excitedly. “Come on, Jules! We get to see the baby! We’re going to be very good big sisters, Momma. I promise.”

“I know you will, Ellie-bug,” Felicity tells her, smoothing her fingers through the little girl’s loose curls before reaching for the phone in her pocket. She pulls up the ultrasound photo right away and turns her phone so the girls can see it. Ellie practically has her nose pressed to the phone, but Jules is a few feet away watching on warily. “You will too, Jules. You’re already a great big sister. You will be again. Do you see here? That’s his head and that’s his middle. You can see one of his arms right here and that’s a foot.”

Ellie’s face quirks to the side and she gnaws on her lip as she watches the screen. “Momma… I think your doctor’s wrong. I don’t think that’s a baby. I think it’s a burrito.”

“A burrito?” Oliver laughs. It’s a full-bellied sound and so joyous, so pure that the happiness of it spreads right out over Felicity. He scoots closer to her and wraps an arm around her waist. Ellie’s still between them, but she’s down near Felicity’s knee and there’s enough room that Oliver can kiss Felicity’s shoulder as he laughs. She loves that.

“They can make you throw up, too, Momma,” Ellie says sagely. “You should ask the doctor to double-check.”

“Honey, I promise, it’s not a burrito. It’s a baby. It’s your brother Nate,” Felicity insists.

“I might start calling him burrito, though,” Oliver muses.

“Our son is not a burrito,” Felicity bristles.

“Not a burrito. Burrito,” Oliver corrects with a goofy grin. Pending fatherhood has put him in a tremendously joyous and silly mood. It has every time.

But still…

“No,” Felicity insists.

“Can I talk to him?” Ellie asks, cutting through the silliness.

Felicity’s heart positively skips a beat at that before speeding up to double-time. “What?” she asks.

“I know he can’t hear me yet, but maybe I could pretend?” Ellie suggests. She’s nervous and hopeful and it feels like deja-vu, makes Felicity’s head swim at the echo of a memory playing out in front of her. “I don’t have to,” Ellie says with a little shrug, misreading her mother’s shock as reluctance. “It’s okay.”

“You can,” Felicity tells her. It feels like playing out a script.

“Really?” Ellie asks delightedly.

“Really,” Felicity confirms.

Ellie’s little fingers grab the bottom of her mother’s shirt and push it up, exposing the flat plane of her stomach. She moves so that she’s cross-legged on Felicity’s lap and leans over, speaking directly to her mother’s belly button.

“Hi, baby!” Ellie says in what she seems to think is a whisper. Felicity feels Oliver’s fingers twitch against her side and hears him exhale an unsteady breath. He’s as lost in memories as she is and she knows it.

“It’s Ellie! Your big sister. I’ve never been a big sister before, but I promise I’m gonna be so good at it ‘cause Jules taught me how and I already love you loads.”

There is nothing in the whole world that could make Felicity tear her eyes away from Ellie in this moment. Just as there is nothing that could pull Oliver’s attention away from their younger daughter.

Ellie pats her mother’s stomach, scrunching her fingers against the gentle rounded plane like she’s done this a hundred times before, like she’d done when it wasn’t quite her. An unexpected pang of longing hits Felicity for that other little Ellie, for the first child she’d considered one of her own.

But what follows a moment later deviates from the script of before and it reminds her so very thoroughly that no matter how wonderful that little glimpse into their other life might have been - no matter how much they gained from that experience - the lives they’ve made for themselves are so, so much better.

“You too, Jules,” Ellie says, sitting up on her mother’s lap and reaching toward her sister.

For her part, Jules is a touch hesitant. She’s a little less thrilled about this baby thing than her little sister, but that’s okay. She’s got time to get used to it and this feels like the first step in the right direction. Felicity nods her head in invitation with a smile at her older daughter and Jules shuffles forward until Ellie grabs her by the wrist and pulls her down.

“Baby Nate,” Ellie says, talking into her mother’s belly button like it’s a microphone again. “I am Ellie and I am three-and-a-half years old, so I am big and I know lots. This is Jules and she is seven next month so she knows even more but not as much as Will who is fourteen and very old. They’re your sister and brother, too, just like me.” She pulls back and looks at her sister. “Say hi, Jules!”

Jules looks like she feels silly but everyone is watching her expectantly so she leans forward a little and says, “Hi, Nate.”

Ellie huffs at the lackluster greeting. “Not like that,” she corrects. “He can’t hear you from so far away.” She’s all of maybe a foot from Felicity’s stomach. “You gotta get close like this,” Ellie advises, her mouth brushing the skin of her mother’s tummy. “Hellooooo in there, baby brother!” She leans back and tugs Jules forward more. “Come on. Don’t be shy Jules. He’s gonna love you. You’ve gotta introduce yourself.”

Jules turns bright red at that and swallows hard, looking anxious and self-conscious, but she leans in. “Hi Nate,” she says. Her lips don’t touch her mother’s skin, but her hand does, ever so gently, stroking at the skin like she’s petting a dog. “I’m Jules. And I think it’s… kinda cool to meet you.”

It’s soft-spoken, shy, almost embarrassed that she cares, but it’s such a huge step for Jules, for their family, and it seems to Felicity that all the pieces of their lives are sliding right into place. And the picture it forms is beautiful, perfect - even with its flaws - and it’s not just the pregnancy hormones that make her gather her girls in her arms and kiss them both with tears in her eyes. It’s the realization that she’s living exactly the life she wants with exactly the people she wants in it.

And how amazing a thing is that?

*

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse, so go send some love to @so-caffeinated!

[schultz290]

Gamers, Stalkers, the Zone, and Escaping

One of the most striking scenes in Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker occurs not long after the film’s trio of characters arrives in the Zone. The Stalker, the guide leading the other two characters in with his esoteric expertise, is overwhelmed emotionally by arriving in the Zone. He asks for a moment alone, and absconds to a nearby clearing. Once there, he collapses into the tall grass in ecstasy, with a palpable sense of relief and pleasure washing over him. The film’s sparse soundtrack comes in as he holds and sniffs the grass and drinks the air, and the Zone seems to respond as the wind picks up and all the plants begin to gently dance in the breeze. The Stalker lays on the ground in a sort of trance as the Zone breathes around him, and he lets little insects crawl gently along his fingers as he lays blissfully upon the blanket of thick green grass. The scene has no words but communicates a great deal about the Stalker’s relationship with the Zone. He’s been marked by it, and in doing so has become a part of it. He knows the Zone (as much as any human can know) and the Zone knows him. For him, the Zone is a refuge from the outside world, a hopeful escape. The other characters find the zone terrifying and alien, but the Stalker has mentally made his home here. At his most hopeful and excited he even considers literally upending his life outside to resettle his wife and daughter inside the Zone.

Upon watching Stalker for the first time, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I wasn’t even sure if I liked it necessarily, and upon repeat viewings I remain sort of coldly fascinated with it and its themes rather than having any warm feelings towards it. However one thing jumped out at me: how much I personally related to the Stalker himself. That moment of blissful solitude, while seemingly a characteristically bizarre action of a generally strange man, is to me one of the most human moments in the film. That feeling of sensory and emotional joy, of escaping the horrid grey world “outside the barbed wire” struck home for me: It was the feeling I have when I sink into an hours long session of playing games. I become dead to the outside world and to stimuli outside the game, drinking in the sights, sounds and feelings of play. I breathe a sigh of palpable relief every time I sit down at my computer knowing that I’m about to disappear into a digital Zone all my own. The world outside is ugly, hostile, anxiety inducing, and depressing. Just as the world in which the Stalker lives with his family is a ruined grey industrial wasteland, the world I live in with my family is a continuously worsening garbage fire of greed, hatred, and constant violence. The Zone and gaming both provide a place of vibrant colors and joyful escape, a home precisely because it is away from my actual home.

However, in comparing video games as a hobby to the Zone I cannot ignore the differences between the two. The Zone is by it’s very nature wholly alienated from the rest of human existence. Guarded by soldiers, barbed wire, and a great deal of fear of the unknown, the Zone is a place devoid of human activity and indeed is a place that violently rejects such activity if it is sufficiently disruptive. Video games, on the other hand, are a medium of art like any other. Like all mediums of art, they are a site of human activity and a product of it rather than a space alienated from it. I cannot play games without recognizing that as colorful as they are, they were produced in my grey world by overworked and underpaid dev teams and producers hostile to unionization. They are in communication with the broader culture, both reinforcing our worst tendencies of justifying violence and critiquing them, both attempting to say something while also frequently attempting to obfuscate the existence of cultural problems at all in service of good clean fun. The most vocal hobbyists of video games have proven themselves time and time again to be entitled white men with a chip on their shoulder and a death threat flying from their fingertips. Nazis and centrists alike defend gaming as a zone of alienation where the outside world of “politics” cannot be allowed to intrude, and will go to any lengths to try and maintain the nonexistent wall of barbed wired between gaming and reality. The escapism that brings me and so many others beaten down by our crapsack world so much joy is also for many a dangerous reactionary impulse, and becomes a toxic possessiveness of the medium.

Stalker confronts and interrogates the Stalker’s escapism near the end of the trio’s journey through the character of the Writer. On the threshold of the legendary Room that supposedly grants the wishes of those who enter it (and is thought by some to do so in a monkey’s paw esque cruel and harmful fashion) the group breaks down mentally. No one quite has the ability to actually cross the threshold, and each attempts to articulate why. The Stalker never planned on entering the room in the first place, as he says that he cannot as it is another one of the Zone’s mysterious rules. The Professor states a desire to destroy the Zone and the room to keep their power out of the wrong hands, and has brought a nuclear bomb to do so. Upon hearing this, the Stalker loses all composure and desperately attacks the Professor. The Stalker shouts “He wants to destroy your hope!” as he struggles with the Professor and is then thrown to the ground by the Writer.

As each man pants with exhaustion and drips with filthy water in the dirty little antechamber to the legendary room, the Writer begins to castigate the Stalker:

“I see right through you. You don’t give a damn about people. You just make money using our… anguish! Its not just the money. You’re enjoying it here! You’re like God Almighty in here! You, a hypocritical louse, decide who is to live and who is to die… Now I see why you Stalkers never enter the Room yourselves. You revel in all that power, that mystery, your authority! What else is there to wish for?”

The Stalker stammers and sobs pitifully as he replies:

“You’re right, I’m a louse. I haven’t done any good and I can’t do any good. I couldn’t give anything even to my wife. I can’t have any friends either, but don’t take mine from me! They’d already taken everything from me, back behind the barbed wire! So all that’s mine is here, you understand? Here. In the Zone. My happiness, my freedom, my self respect, it’s all here. I bring here people like me, desperate and tormented. People who have nothing else to hope for. And I can help them! No one else can help them, only I, the louse, can! I’m so happy to be able to help them I want to cry. And that’s all, I don’t want anything more.”

We often discuss how video games provide a “power fantasy” for the user, usually meaning that games allow players to perform actions digitally that they never could in real life. However, I think this dialogue from Stalker captures how games provide a different form of empowerment as a hobby. The empowerment games provide is that of mastery, of the possession of esoteric and obscure knowledge. Just like the Zone, games function on strange and arcane rules that to outsiders seem capricious. To see this effect, one need go no further than simply hand a controller to someone who has never played a game in their life. The person will struggle to move their character or comprehend what’s happening on screen, in a way that seems infuriating and baffling to an experienced player. But from an external perspective it is easy to understand that games are something learned through experience and practice, if only because their rules are so divorced from reality. Think merely of the amount of terminology and jargon that can suffuse a conversation about a game that is utterly nonsensical without context.  In a world where even some of the most privileged of us are powerless as individuals to change, shape, and sometimes even comprehend our reality, the ability to so thoroughly master the complicated systems and rules of games is a universal form of mental empowerment.

Mastering these arcane rules and systems is a joy all its own, but a special glee is reserved for the ability to guide others and demonstrate that mastery. Let’s Plays are often structured around this happy sharing, a frequent format is a two person playthrough in which one person has played the game already and another is starting it fresh. Games have even introduced features allowing players to explicitly take on the role of teacher and guide, such as Team Fortress 2′s coaching system and Destiny’s high level “sherpas”. The joy is both the vicarious joy of witnessing a person experience the game you loved for the first time, and is as well the joy of demonstrating just how well you can guide them through it.

“I bring here people like me, desperate and tormented. People who have nothing else to hope for. And I can help them! No one else can help them, only I, the louse, can! I’m so happy to be able to help them I want to cry. And that’s all, I don’t want anything more.”

The film Stalker ends the Stalker’s story with him returning home distraught. Neither the Professor nor the Writer entered the room, and their questioning of his understanding of the Zone and role as guide has shaken the Stalker. He complains about their non-belief bitterly, and overall seems deeply depressed that he’s had to return to reality at all. He shows little warmth to his wife and daughter, and definitely doesn’t display the ecstasy we saw when he entered the Zone. He seems totally detached from what happened, and tries to cling bitterly to his perception of the Zone as a place of hope for mankind. His wife puts him to bed, and he is visibly feeble and implicitly infantile.

This final vision of the Stalker as an embittered and lonely soul hopelessly cursing those who just don’t understand doesn’t have to be reflective of video game hobbyists, but it usually is. Just as the Stalker hates the Writer and Professor for their perspectives on the Zone and the Room, gamers frequently despise those who try and emphasize the continuities between the Zone of gaming and the grey world behind the barbed wire. “Get your politics out of my video games” is to this day a constant refrain even four years after Gamergate, the seeming high tide of white male gamer resentment. A quick glance at the comment section of any politically charged content can quickly find dozens of detractors who argue that even invoking the outside world is unnecessary and harmful. These bitter people want to alienate gaming from the reality around it as a way to avoid acknowledging the cruel fact that doing so is impossible. The escape to the Zone is always fleeting, one must always return in the end to one’s home and one’s bed outside the Zone in that hostile grey world. All of one’s mastery of the Zone and it’s laws is reduced to meaningless esoteric trivia, and the conventional powers that be are still in control and still hold the power to “take everything” from you.

But games serving as an escape does not have to be toxic. They aren’t and shouldn’t be an escape just for the lowest common denominator of white dude. As Cameron Kunzelman wrote for Waypoint: “The power fantasy, then, is a contested space, and I don’t think the discussion should be centered on whether they should exist or not. Instead, the discussion should be focused on who gets to feel powerful? Who gets access to digital representations of their dreams, especially in the AAA game or blockbuster space?” There is nothing inherently wrong with enjoying the power that mastery over games provides or the experience of guiding someone else through them. Like in the Zone, there is a fundamental beauty to games that everyone should experience, and they hold a great deal of hope as an artistic medium even though they may not save mankind. Though it is often in spite of their explicit content, marginalized people can derive a great deal of joy from escaping to the lush vivid greenery of the Zone of gaming. It is always crucial, however, that we avoid becoming the Stalker who worships the Zone without questioning it or his feelings about it. We must be the Writer, always self criticizing and mulling over what it all means. And we must also be the Professor, wondering about the dangers of the Zone and what dark power it could have in the wrong hands. We can derive joy from our escape, but we must always accept with grace the reality that we must return to our home, and must understand that the grey and brutal world is the real one that we owe our loyalties to. There is hope in this real grey world, but only if we act to change it from within it. To attempt to escape from and ignore the world’s problems is to be complicit in them, and we must not allow ourselves to become the impotent Stalker who curses his lot from his bed.