#better than wreaking havoc on NYC... again.

[incorrect-frozentricks-n-friends]

(Bucky and Loki trying out modern technology)

Loki: hey Siri...

(Siri chime)

Loki: call us "Daddy"

Siri: I don't see a father in your contacts, what's your father's first and last name-

(She just continues to ramble on Bucky just starts laughing and Loki turns red, slightly embarrassed but trying not to laugh with Bucky)

Loki(awkwardly): welllll... about that...

[harry-on-broadway]

Tying You To Me: Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Word Count: 8.2K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M (contains mentions of the p*ndemic)

A/N: Happy NYC N2 day! As we gear up for another show tonight, what better way to celebrate than with a new chapter! I’m kind of in shock that we’re so close to the end, as I’m truly not ready to say goodbye to these two. Thanks to everyone for reading and reblogging. Don’t hesitate to leave a message after you've read this chapter. Happy reading! 

***

March 2020

“Vanilla cream cold brew for Quinn!”

Quinn reached for her drink on the counter, but cringed and turned away, ducking her face into the shoulder of her jacket as a tall man next to her coughed without covering his mouth.

It was probably fine, right? What were the odds that the cough had traveled far enough to land in the open cup of coffee?

She stared at the cup of coffee, moving to chew on the raw skin of her thumb before reconsidering. Don’t touch your face, nose, or mouth and you’ll be fine…at least that’s what the news was saying.

The man coughed yet again as Quinn decided to write the coffee off as a loss. She could make a better cup in her own apartment. She exited the shop and strolled down the block, choosing the least crowded side of the street and dodging the few pedestrians that passed her.

The past couple of weeks had been like nothing she’d ever known. The news was continually dominated by headlines of a virus that was wreaking havoc across the globe, and starting to put roots in the US. Doctors were getting more and more screen time on TV, everyone on Twitter suddenly had a degree in public health, and people like Quinn, who regarded herself as a person of average intelligence with average anxieties, were constantly trying to figure out if they were overreacting to the current situation.

Quinn was thankful that those closest to her were also feeling cautious, and many of the group texts she was a part of were constantly fielding questions like “It’s safe to go to the movies right?” or “Is everyone still OK meeting for dinner?”

SNL’s last show had been filled with a new kind of nervous energy as everyone joked about not getting too close during the farewell before the two weeks of hiatus. Between Harry’s visit at the end of the month, and two busy weeks of shows, Quinn hadn’t had much time to focus on anything outside of work and her relationship, but when she woke up on Sunday afternoon her brain suddenly had space to contemplate the state of the world. Which is how she wound up walking around her Midtown neighborhood on a Monday morning, dodging everyone she could while trying to find a germ-free coffee.

She was bouncing up and down on a street corner trying to stay warm when her phone rang. It was Marcus. The fact that he was calling, and not texting, this early in the day set off her inner alarm bells.

“Hey Marcus,” she said, picking up on the third ring.

“Quinn, they’re shutting the show down. We’re not coming back after the hiatus.”

“Marcus, that’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking, Quinn.” Based on the way his voice wavered, she believed him.

“Fuck.”

“I know. Supposedly they’re waiting for this to pass and we can finish with an abbreviated season in late April.”

“Marcus, I don’t mean to be a downer but I don’t think this is going to pass by April.”

“I don’t either,” he said, sighing. “I’m going to be honest with you, Quinn. I’m getting ready to leave the city.”

“What?” Quinn felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Where? When?”

“This afternoon. Wade’s parents have a vacation home upstate that they’re not using and they said we could crash there to get a little more space. At least for the next month, but I’m preparing for longer.”

“That’s good. At least you can pretend like the world isn’t ending.”

“That’s what Wade said. You should try and come up with an escape plan of your own. We’ve got room for you.”

Quinn bit her lip as she tried not to cry. “Yeah, I’ll try to think of something. Thanks though.” She paused. “Stay safe, Marcus.”

“You too, girl. Love you.”

Quinn felt tears start to run down her face as she swiped into her apartment building and boarded the elevator, thankful that she didn’t have to share with anyone. When she got to her floor, she held her sobs in until she entered her apartment and sank to the floor.

When she first moved in, she was so happy to have a place of her own. After years of sharing with roommates, it felt like an accomplishment to be able to afford a piece of New York real estate all by herself. And after busy weeks spent in the constant presence of others, she enjoyed the alone time and being able to do whatever she wanted in her space when she wanted.

But now, the silence and solitude of her apartment was suffocating as she tried to think about not only the next time she’d have contact with someone, but when she’d actually feel comfortable interacting with a human again.

She was trying to catch her breath when her phone rang again. It was Harry this time.

“Hi babe,” she said, trying to disguise her sniffles.

“Are you OK, love?” Harry asked. Quinn could almost hear the furrow in his brow. “I saw that SNL is shut down.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of a shock.” She could hear Harry breathing on the other end of the line, as he waited for her to speak, not satisfied with the answer she’d given him. She contemplated what to say, trying to play it cool, but her worries won out in the end.

“I’m really scared, Harry,” she said through sobs after a minute. “I’m alone. Everyone’s leaving the city to go to their family or whatever but I can’t do that, because I can’t take the risk of getting them sick, and my apartment is so empty and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Harry let her get it all out as he tried to soothe her over the phone, speaking softly and urging her to take slow, deep breaths. He finally spoke again when Quinn’s cries had subsided.

“Would you be comfortable taking a flight now?”

“What?”

“A flight. To LA,” Harry said slowly.

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you fly out to me? I’m going to ride it out with Jeff and we have room for one more. It would actually help me out because I won’t feel like a third wheel and Jeff and Glenne won’t have to occupy me while they work from home.”

“Harry, that’s risky. What if –”

“I’m fine taking that risk if it means you’ll be with me. But the choice is up to you. I won’t pressure you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought about it. Being with Harry was certainly more desirable than spending endless days alone. “I’ll do it. I’ll get the earliest flight out.”

“OK, that sounds like a plan,” said Harry. “I can book your ticket while you pack.”

“Will you stay on with me while I do that?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Anything you need.”

Quinn put the call on speaker and she could hear clicking keys on Harry’s end of the line as he booked her flight.

“You’re leaving out of JFK at 4,” he said after a moment.

“Thank you, H,” Quinn said. “I really owe you.”

“Actually you don’t.”

“I –”

“We can argue about it later, Quinn. Just focus on packing.”

Quinn chatted with Harry as she opened her suitcase and started throwing clothes into it. She wasn’t sure what should be on a lockdown packing list but she was fairly sure that sweatpants, t-shirts, and pajamas were the core part of the dress code.

“Don’t forget a swimsuit,” Harry chimed in. “They’ve got a pool out here.”

“Good call,” Quinn replied, pivoting to pull some suits from her dresser drawer. Swimming would be one way to distract themselves as the world collapsed around them.

“And make sure you have that other set, you know the one you wore for my belated birthday party.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I know you’re rolling your eyes,” Harry replied. “But what else are we going to do when we can’t leave the house?”

“Read a book?”

“I think I like my plan a little better. Remember the lacy one too.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I have room for.”

“They don’t take that much space…”

“Harry!”

“I’m just saying…”

Quinn ended the call when she was finished packing, agreeing to meet Harry in the pick-up area at LAX before calling an Uber to meet her outside of her building. As she prepared to leave, she stopped and took a step back, surveying the apartment she’d slowly made hers over the past nine months. She didn’t know when she’d be back here again, but she hoped it would be soon.

The city streets were concerningly empty, which made her feel even more nervous, a feeling that only intensified when she saw the ghost town that was the airport. Everyone must have left over the weekend when the first signs of the shutdown began to loom. She tried to put thoughts about what that meant out of her mind and focus on the fact that she’d be reunited with Harry in five hours.

She looked at her ticket, pleased to see that Harry had booked her a first-class ticket, and when she boarded the plane, the cabin was nearly empty, save for a couple of businessmen sitting at the front of the plane.

As the flight took off, she leaned back and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the world. Before she knew it, she’d be with Harry. They’d swim, they’d get to cook together, and if she was being honest, probably have a lot of sex. They’d make the best of a bad situation and treat this pause like an extended vacation. She thought she’d just closed her eyes for a minute, but when she opened them the flight attendant was gently shaking her shoulder telling her they were preparing to land.

LAX was just as deserted as JFK and she found Harry’s car easily, sliding in the passenger seat within minutes of landing.

“Hey you,” Harry said as she buckled herself in. “It’s good to see you.” His eyes were watery and he looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just cleared his throat and continued on. “Do you need to stop for anything?” he asked. “We’re pretty stocked up on groceries even though we’re trying to order out as much as we can. You know to keep the businesses open.”

“I just need a hot shower and some industrial grade soap. And a kiss from you, but that can wait.”

Harry grinned as he pulled out onto the freeway. “I think I can make all of those things happen.”

Quinn hadn’t seen this side of the city, so Harry pointed out landmarks as they drove by. It didn’t feel like LA though. Everything felt muted and too quiet, a troubling sign of what was to come. Not long after they left the airport, Harry pulled into a neighborhood and hit a button on his sun visor, causing the gate at the front of the driveway to part. Harry drove up the strip of pavement and stopped in front of a mid-sized house. It certainly wasn’t as fancy as some of the other homes in the surrounding area, but as Quinn stepped out of the car and got a glimpse of the backyard, she saw that the simple facade was hiding many luxuries.

“This way,” Harry said, tilting his head as he carried Quinn’s suitcases to the front door and let himself in.

“We’re back,” he called.

Jeff poked his head around the corner, smiling when he saw Quinn.

“Hey, Quinn, welcome. Glad you could make it out.”

“Thanks for hosting me,” Quinn said. “I’m sure a visitor from New York is the last thing anyone wants right now.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry and Jeff said in near unison, eyes locking when they realized their words had synced up. They grinned. “Jinx.”

“H can take you up to your room and get you settled in while Glenne and I wrap up work. You get to decide where we’re ordering from tonight.”

“Oh, wow, giving me a lot of power already.”

Jeff chuckled. “Hey, if it gets this guy to quit brooding around the house you can do whatever the hell you want.”

“Brooding?” Quinn threw Harry a questioning look.

“I wasn’t brooding, Jeffrey,” Harry said petulantly. “I was just worried.”

“Sure,” Jeff said, glancing at Quinn who was trying to hide a smile. “You were worried.” His phone rang. “Shit, I’ve got to grab this. Talk to you all later.”

Jeff retreated to another room of the house as Harry picked up Quinn’s bags and gestured for her to head up the stairs.

“Your suite,” he said, opening the door with a flourish.

The room was what Quinn would have expected. Neutral, beachy colors, a large bed and Harry’s suitcase opened, clothes spilling across the floor.

“I sort of forgot to clean up,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’m going to have to get used to your mess.”

“Hey!”

Quinn laughed. “Is the shower through there?” She pointed at a door next to the bed and Harry nodded. “I’m going to rinse off then.”

“That’s fine, I’ll grab you some towels.”

Quinn squeezed Harry’s forearm, the greatest display of affection that felt comfortable until she’d cleaned up. She closed the door behind her and turned on the water, shedding her clothes and dumping them in a basket that looked to be full of Harry’s clothes.

She closed her eyes as she stood under the hot water, rolling her neck and feeling tension she didn’t know she was holding release. She heard the door crack open and could make out the shape of Harry leaving towels on the counter. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the shower, but when she stepped out and wrapped herself in the plush, warm towel, she felt rejuvenated. Harry was waiting for her when she stepped out of the bathroom, reclining on the bed and scrolling on his phone.

“Hey you,” she said.

Harry looked up, eyes glowing and a smile inadvertently creeping across his face. “Hey,” he said softly.

Quinn sat down next to him and he pulled her into a hug. “Towels were nice and warm.”

“I might have tossed them in the dryer for a few minutes.”

“Hmm. You’re setting the bar pretty high. How are you going to keep this up for the next six weeks?”

“That’s the plan, you see. Butter you up now so that you’re more forgiving of me when I’m driving you up the wall.”

“Interesting strategy.”

Harry hummed. “It seems to be working so far. I’ve got you in my bed and you also mentioned something about a kiss?”

Quinn dug her fingers into his side. “Someone’s feeling cheeky,” she whispered as she laced her hands in the tuft of curls at the base of Harry’s neck, drawing him closer to her. She placed her lips against his, firmly at first before melting into him. She felt his hands stroke up and down her thigh, her back, her arm. He was all over her, in the most restrained way possible, not pushing the boundaries, and not taking Quinn’s lack of clothes as an invitation to escalate things. Quinn sighed as they parted, Harry still keeping his hands on her to hold her close.

“I needed that,” Harry said, not quite meeting Quinn’s eyes. “I really needed that.”

“I did too, baby,” Quinn replied.

“I just feel better knowing that neither of us are going to be alone. We’ve got each other to get through this.”

“Thank you for making me come out here,” Quinn said. “I would have just stayed in New York if you hadn’t said anything.”

“Well, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“That’s right,” Quinn replied, bringing her hand up to stroke Harry’s jawline. “Now what’s this about you being broody?”

“Jeff is a drama queen,” Harry said matter of factly. “I was not brooding. I just said I missed you was all.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious! He just doesn’t understand romance like I do.”

“You understand romance?”

Harry flipped Quinn onto her back as he lay on top of her, and began tickling her. “Take it back,” he cried as they both dissolved into a fit of giggles before he kissed her again.

They lay on the bed for a little while longer, not saying much of anything, just enjoying each other’s company until Harry’s stomach started to growl.

“Does that mean it’s time for dinner?” Quinn asked.

“Yes, and when Jeff asks you what you want for dinner, say you want to order from Mi Ranchito.”

“Mi Ranchito?”

“Yes, it’s your favorite LA restaurant.”

“Interesting seeing as I’ve never been there.”

“Well, don’t tell him that.”

Quinn rolled her eyes as Harry’s stomach growled. “I guess I should get dressed since it sounds like Jeff needs to order that food sooner rather than later.”

“Hey! I was a little busy today and might have forgotten to eat lunch.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said again, struggling to find the appropriate way to convey her appreciation for Harry.

“You don’t need to thank me. This was a purely selfish act on my part. If I’m going to be stuck inside for the next six weeks, the only person I want with me is you.”

Quinn squeezed his shoulder and Harry rolled off of her, allowing her to get off the bed and rummage through her suitcase for some clothes. When she was dressed in a pair of athletic shorts and one of Harry’s t-shirts, they made their way downstairs.

“You all have any suggestions for dinner?” Jeff called as they rounded the corner.

“Quinn’s picking tonight,” Harry called as he headed straight for the fridge, digging around for whatever was available for pre-dinner snacking.

“Yeah,” Quinn chimed in. “Why don’t we order from Mi Ranchito.”

Jeff turned to look at Glenne, who had just entered the room. They locked eyes, then turned back to Quinn.

“You don’t have to say that because Harry told you,” Jeff said, shaking his head as Glenne flicked Harry’s ear.

“Ouch!” Harry yelped. “And I didn’t tell her to say that. She said she was craving it when she got off the plane.”

“I’ve never heard of Mi Ranchito until Harry told me that’s what I should suggest for dinner.”

“So the truth is revealed!” Jeff exclaimed. He turned back to Quinn. “What would you actually like to eat? You’re the guest of honor tonight.”

“Pizza?” Quinn suggested.

“Sounds like a plan!” Jeff clapped his hands. “Come with me, Quinn. I’ve got a menu for you to look at.”

Quinn followed Jeff out of the room and around the corner to a hall table that had menus and other papers shoved in a drawer.

“I am really happy you’re here,” Jeff said as he searched through the pile of leaflets. “It will be great to spend more than a couple of hours with you. Glenne and I were saying the other day that it was kind of strange that we’re all friends and you’re such a huge part of H’s life but we don’t actually know a lot about you. Like what’s your favorite pizza topping? Ice cream flavor? Do you like cats or dogs?”

Quinn felt flattered that Jeff, and Glenne by the sound of it, were so eager to spend time with her. While their relationship had thawed since that initial meeting and they were always good about including her when she was around, she wasn’t sure how excited they’d be to have her crashing in their house. But hearing this from Jeff eased some of the concerns she still felt.

“Sausage. Mint chip. Both, to answer your questions,” Quinn said. “And thank you again for letting me say. This is a pretty terrible situation, but it sounds like we’re going to make the best of it.”

“No problem,” Jeff replied, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “I’m happy to report this pizza place has a killer sausage pie and we will absolutely be ordering it.”

Jeff started to key the order in on his phone, adding some appetizers, other pizzas, and desserts to the order, and Quinn took advantage of the silence to ask a question.

“Was he really that bad before I got here?”

“You know how he gets in those pouty moods where he’ll still talk to you or whatever but he’s like a thousand miles away.”

Quinn nodded.

“It was like that but worse than I’ve ever seen. I think the combination of not knowing if he could tour, and being away from you and his family, especially while third-wheeling with us, was really taking its toll, not that he’d admit that. It’s night and day, since you’ve arrived. I think he is whistling in the kitchen.”

Quinn turned her ear to the hall and could pick up the faint sounds of Harry whistling a tune that sounded vaguely familiar. “He is. Wow.”

Almost as if he’d heard his name, Harry stuck his head down the hall. “When’s the food getting here?”

“About an hour, but that should be fine seeing as you’ve eaten half a loaf of bread already,” Jeff called back.

“It’s called an appetizer, Jeffrey,” Harry replied, lifting another hunk of bread to his mouth.

Dinner arrived right on schedule and Glenne pulled out plates that the group piled with slices of pizza, fresh salad, and appetizers, including mozzarella sticks. They ate in front of the TV, watching episodes of Real Housewives that Harry suddenly had expert knowledge of.

“Erika is trouble but I’d be so mad if she left the show,” he said, eyes trained on the television as he took a bite from his slice of cheese pizza.

“Since when are you so knowledgeable about Housewives antics?” Quinn asked. She’d known he’d watched several Bravo series with her, since her TV practically always tuned into that channel but didn’t think he’d absorbed any of it.

“I may have gotten hooked when I was staying with you last year,” Harry mumbled.

Bellies full and eyes tired, the four grew quiet as the evening continued, Jeff and Glenne situated with their dog on one end of the sectional and Harry and Quinn cozied up on the other. Quinn hadn’t been sure how Harry would act around the other couple.

While he was always warm and affectionate, he often held back on the PDA, even in the presence of his trusted friends, settling for hand-holding or chaste pecks on the lips or even a tight hug. But as Quinn sat down next to him after returning dishes to the sink. He pulled her into him, turning her so that her legs were resting over his lap, granting him access to both her shoulders and legs which he gently stroked as they watched TV in near silence, occasionally pressing his lips to her hair. Quinn returned the gesture gently scratching his chest through his hoodie.

After another episode, Jeff and Glenne excused themselves, offering the explanation of work in the morning. Harry and Quinn said their goodnights, but remained as they were on the couch. They must have nodded off, because Quinn blinked and when she opened her eyes again, infomercials were playing on the screen while Harry’s head was tipped back, snoring loudly.

“H,” she shook his chest and he jerked awake. “I think we need to go to bed.”

Harry sleepily nodded, standing to search for the remote and switch the TV off before following Quinn upstairs. After an abbreviated bedtime routine they crawled into bed where Harry nuzzled against Quinn, mumbling something that sounded like “goodnight” before drifting off to sleep, Quinn not far behind.

***

The following days brought a sense of routine. Harry and Quinn would wake up, and she’d check her phone while he meditated, before they headed downstairs for the first cup of coffee. They traded off making breakfast each day and had quickly devised different walking and jogging routines throughout Jeff’s neighborhood.

They made time to take meals with Jeff and Glenne, and spent most of their evenings with the other couple as well, but their days were all their own as Jeff and Glenne worked throughout the day.

Harry and Quinn took a summer camp approach to the forced isolation, coming up with themes for each day. A pool day that saw them playing their favorite water games, and seeing who could do the best handstand (Harry won, infuriating Quinn.) Their spa day consisted of massages, at-home facials, manicures, pedicures, and hair masks. Harry had requested a trim as well, saying his fringe was starting to annoy him, but Quinn refused.

“There’s more to grab onto,” she simply, taking her coffee out to the back deck as Harry stood shocked in the kitchen.

Endless hours in the day also provided plenty of time for other distractions, namely reading, watching movies, and having sex, three activities that Harry proved to be very passionate about.

He had a stack of novels from God knows where and he was flying through them at an alarming rate, trying to pass his favorites onto Quinn when he’d finished. She tried her best to get into them, but eventually settled on ordering her own reading list from one of the local bookstores.

“These are my favorite moments with you,” Harry said one afternoon over the pages of a paperback. “It’s nice when we can be quiet together.”

Movie viewing was a daily activity, with each member of the household writing down a bunch of film titles and adding them to a bowl that lived on the kitchen table. Each night, someone would draw a slip of paper and whatever film was listed was the one they would watch. It was through this activity that Quinn learned Jeff had a passion for old-Hollywood musicals, while Glenne preferred hardcore action films. Quinn’s own guilty please, true crime docs, was also outed when her suggestions of Tiger King and The Killing Season were drawn on consecutive nights.

Harry was also trying his best to make sex a daily occurrence, showing Quinn some sort of 30-day sex challenge he’d found on Cosmo, full of inventive positions that Quinn doubted they had the athletic ability to replicate. Their dedication to the schedule lasted three full days, ending when Harry pulled a muscle in his back and Quinn sustained a significant and noticeable beard burn on her inner thighs.

But even with all of the fun activities, the real joy for Quinn was simply getting to be around Harry with one luxury they so rarely had: time.

Their relationship had been dictated by weeks and small bursts of time where they rushed to fit every event, every action, every word, every kiss into the remaining moments they had until they were to part again. It wasn’t so bad. Quinn felt that living that way made her more aware of how she was using her time with Harry – If he was only spending three nights with her, did it make sense to waste one of them in a crowded restaurant when she could actually talk to him at home? – and also made her more appreciative of the little moments they had together. She’d spent years hearing her friends complain about their partners’ annoying habits – leaving socks next to the laundry basket and crumbs by the toaster – but with Harry gone as soon as she could blink, his quirks were more loveable than irritating.

As the weeks crawled by, Quinn was still in this honeymoon mindset. Harry’s habit of leaving half-finished drinks around the house was offset by the hour she could spend lazily kissing him in the morning or evening and his insistence on keeping a strict schedule with no deviation from his health and wellness routine was made more bearable by the fact that he always allotted time to spend with Quinn.

They’d had a few dust-ups – Quinn accidentally shrunk one of his vintage tees while doing laundry and Harry broke her phone charger when he borrowed it – but they’d been quick to mend fences. Quinn even liked the small disagreements in some way, knowing that these tiffs were just a sign that they were an even stronger couple.

Things changed in April, however. While Harry had been forced to postpone his tour, a decision he knew was necessary but still hurt, Quinn’s work picked back up as SNL decided to attempt shows that would be recorded remotely from the various locations where cast members were quarantining.

It was not as simple as getting on a Zoom call, and her once empty days were suddenly consumed with hours of video calls and instant messages as she tried to remind Tom Hanks to unmute himself during a rehearsal and figure out how to get the audio just right so it didn’t have that tinny, delayed sound associated with video calls.

As she began to work more and more, Quinn noticed that Harry was growing a bit withdrawn. He was slow to answer questions when they were directed at him, and he never seemed to be fully listening to her. But when she asked him what was wrong, he simply said he was tired, a peculiar response for a man who was currently getting a solid eight hours a night.

Quinn assumed it had something to do with her zero to sixty return to work, which left Harry to try and occupy his time on his own. For someone who often talked about how he liked his solitude, he was making a habit of having to be with Quinn at all hours. Though he wouldn’t open up to her, he insisted on sitting next to her and strumming his guitar while she read through some sketches, wrote poems and lyrics across the table from her as she took calls with the rest of the production staff, and asked for a kiss each time he entered or exited a room.

Quinn knew this was just his way of showing he cared, but she was starting to feel suffocated. He was always there, in need of attention when she didn’t have any to spare. She tried her hardest to be patient, but she hit her breaking point sooner than she would have liked. She was bent over her computer, dashing off emails, when Harry came into the kitchen, stopping at her makeshift workstation at the kitchen counter. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her, kneading into her shoulders.

“How long have you been working?”

“About six hours,” Quinn replied, not looking away from her screen. “I was on calls with a couple of people still in New York early this morning.”

“Have you taken a break?”

“No.”

“Well that won’t do.” Harry lifted his arms and tried to pry Quinn up from her chair and away from her laptop. “Come on. Get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m good,” Quinn said, nodding towards the cup next to her.

“Well at least stand up and stretch your legs.”

“I’m good, babe. Really just trying to get through these last couple of emails before my next meeting.”

“Quinn, you really should take more breaks. It’s not good for your back and neck if you sit like that all day.”

“I’ll take a walk later.”

“At least stand and stretch. Promise it will only take a few seconds.”

“Harry! Leave me the fuck alone!”

She regretted the words as soon as they were out her mouth. She finally looked away from her email and glanced at Harry who looked like a puppy that had been swatted with a newspaper.

“H-,” she said. “I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Harry said calmly. “You're busy, I get it. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Harry,” Quinn said, trying to quell the panic and guilt that were brewing in her stomach. “I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?” She rose from the table and walked towards him, arms outstretched but he ducked from her reach, turning the opposite direction.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m just trying to leave you the fuck alone.”

Hearing her own words tossed back at her smarted. “Harry. Please, just listen to me. I’m sorry.”

She expected him to turn around and relent to a conversation, but instead he grabbed his keys and a baseball cap and headed to the front door.  

“Where are you going?” This felt like an extreme overreaction to the situation. Sure, it made sense for him to be upset, but to walk out? She needed to figure out what was really wrong.

“Harry, what’s up? Is something else going on?”

“No. Just trying to follow orders,” he mumbled.

Quinn was stunned as she watched him walk out of the house. They had disagreements, sure, but this was the worst one since she’d walked out on him almost two years ago. Her reaction then had been warranted. They were arguing over fundamental issues in their relationship. But Harry throwing a tantrum because she asked for a little breathing room? This was ridiculous. She watched him stalk down the driveway, angrily tapping in the code at the gate before turning onto the main road of the neighborhood walking into the distance.

“Everything OK?” Glenne asked, tentatively, stirring a mug of tea. Jeff appeared behind her, looking concerned.

“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “I needed some space to get work done and I snapped. I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he just flew off the handle and ran away when I tried to apologize and talk it out.” She hugged her arms around herself. “For someone who’s always on me to say what’s bothering me, he certainly doesn’t follow his own advice.” She looked out the window again, hoping she’d see Harry turning the corner, ready to apologize, but there was no one in sight.

“Oh honey,” Glenne said, taking Quinn’s hand and leading her back to the table. “Is this the first fight you all have had?”

“I guess?” Quinn said. “I mean there was the big one…” She trailed off and Glenne and Jeff nodded knowingly. “And I mean we’ve had disagreements but this is the first time we’ve been this…mean to each other.”

“It’s not fun,” Glenne said. “But he’ll cool down eventually and you all can talk it out. Emotions are high and tempers are short right now. I’m honestly surprised it took you all this long to get into it.”

“Yeah, I knew it was bound to happen, but…” Quinn couldn’t put her finger on what about the argument was troubling her. She wasn’t worried that Harry was going to leave her but something nagged at the back of her mind.

“I’m not saying this is an excuse,” Jeff said, chiming in. “But look at us.” He pointed to the three of them. “We’re all working right now. We’ve found ourselves in situations that are letting us continue to work as normally as possible, while he’s basically out of work right now with nothing to do except sit around and watch us.”

Quinn hadn’t thought of it like that and she felt guilty for doing so. Almost like she had neglected one of Harry’s basic needs.

“I think he liked having you in the same boat with him,” Jeff continued. “But now it feels like he’s all alone. He’s probably struggling more than he’s letting on. Give him some space today and I guarantee he’ll be fine tonight and you can talk it all out.”

Quinn nodded, too afraid about what would come out of her mouth if she tried to speak, and as Jeff and Glenne headed off to their own offices, she half-heartedly returned to her own work, not really focusing on what she was doing. A couple hours later the door opened and closed, and Harry appeared in the kitchen.

“Hi babe,” Quinn said tentatively. “How was your walk?”

Harry ignored her, not even looking at her as he grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter and headed to the pool. Quinn almost followed him, thawing his frosty mood a challenge she couldn’t turn down, but she remembered what Jeff had told her and decided to give Harry more time on his own. Waiting would also give her more time to figure out what she was going to say to him.

When 5pm rolled around and everyone agreed to call it a day, she filled two glasses with wine and headed outside. Harry was seated on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. He turned around as he heard Quinn’s feet crunch on the gravel, eyes momentarily lingering on Quinn’s approaching figure before turning back to continue staring at the patio furniture across the pool deck.

Quinn slid her sandals off and sat down next to Harry, dipping her toes in the water. She offered him one of the glasses, which he readily accepted.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Quinn began. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, but I was stressed and frustrated. I know you mean well, but you were just overwhelming me in the moment. Next time, I’ll be more patient and won’t yell.”

She took a sip of wine waiting for his answer.

“I had a call with my therapist today.”

“Oh?” That wasn’t what she was expecting him to say.

“We like, already had a session scheduled, and it just happened to be after I left.”

“That’s good.” Quinn wasn’t sure what to say. She knew Harry had been in therapy for some time, but she’d never felt the need to discuss it with him. She knew that was something for himself and she didn’t want to pressure him to share things with her if he wasn’t comfortable.

“Yeah. It was a lot.” They each took sips of their wine before Harry spoke again. “I told her about what you said and how I left. I was expecting her to tell me I was right to walk away since you’d yelled at me but she just asked me why I ran away. ‘Why do you always run away?’ That’s what she said to me.” He looked at Quinn. “And I couldn’t answer her.”

Quinn didn’t want to make any sudden movements, afraid she’d ruin whatever moment was happening. She slowly reached for Harry’s hand and interlocked her fingers with his.

“I tried to change the subject, to complain about how pissed I am about the tour, but she kept pushing that whole running away thing and then finally said, ‘I think you’re angry because you don’t have anywhere to run to.’” He looked at Quinn, letting his words sink in. “Do you know that this is the longest relationship I’ve ever been in?” Quinn shook her head. “Well, it is. You should get some sort of medal for making it this far.” He kicked his feet in the water. “It only occurred to me for the first time today that the reason I’ve never been able to do anything right is because I leave the second it gets hard. So, that’s what I tried to do today. I left. Because things felt hard and I didn’t want to face them.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Harry,” Quinn said, squeezing his hand. “Can I ask you a question?” She pressed on after he nodded his consent. “Was it what I said that made you mad? Because you know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“I don’t know what it was. I know you didn’t mean it, but something inside just kind broke when you said that. I just have felt kind of lost recently and hearing that really added to that feeling.”

“Why is that?” Quinn asked, trepidatiously. She thought she knew the answer but was nervous nonetheless.

“I always thought that if I stopped my career and took a break that it would be on my own terms. That I’d stop with music because I had a family or just wasn’t interested anymore or I wanted to start a farm. I wasn’t prepared to have to be with myself so suddenly. And seeing all of you busy with work while I’m just loafing around…I don’t know I just panicked. Like what if I can never tour again and I’m just me. Are you all going to want to still hang around?”

“Of course,” Quinn said without hesitation. “I love you. The guy sitting next to me, not the guy onstage.”

“And I get that, but there’s just this big ‘what if?’  in the back of my mind. And I think hearing you tell me to leave you alone just set me off and instead of talking to you, I just left. It’s all related.”

He splashed his feet some more as he sipped his wine. Quinn scooted closer to him. Harry set down his glass of wine and put his arm around her.

“It’s good that you’re talking about this,” Quinn said softly. “It sounds like it’s something that’s been grating on you whether you knew it or not. Now that you know it, you can work on fixing it, if that’s something you want to do.”

“I do. I want to make sure that I’m my best self for you. I’ve been working on that since we took our break. I thought I’d made a lot of progress, but I guess I still have a long way to go.”

“You have grown,” Quinn said emphatically. “You’re not the boy that broke my heart two years ago. But there’s no shame in still having things to work on. We’re all works in progress, at least according to that boring-ass book you made me read.” The corner of Harry’s mouth ticked up and Quinn buzzed at the fact that she’d managed to get even the smallest smile out of him. “I obviously need to work on not biting your head off.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, that was scary. Kind of hot though.”

“Down boy.” Harry flicked his toes in the water, splashing Quinn and she returned the gesture. “Jeff was talking to me and he said this was kind of like a milestone. That we’re actually a real couple now that we’re around each other long enough to bicker and fight.”

“That’s putting a sunny spin on it,” Harry said thoughtfully. “A real couple. I like the sound of that.”

“I’m here for you, Harry. I’ve said it again and again and I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear – I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not either. I promise.”

***

The next morning, Harry left Quinn asleep in their bed as he silently searched for a clean hoodie and shorts, gently closing the door behind him. He met Jeff in the hall and they headed out the door, ready to set off on an early morning hike.

“Feeling better?” Jeff asked as they started up the trail.

“Yeah.”

Harry and Quinn had skipped the group dinner last night, opting for some takeout by the pool before retreating to their room where they alternated between talking, kissing, and making love throughout the night, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. It had been a tough day, but their honest conversations and quality time had helped soothe the wounds they’d suffered and Harry felt even better about their relationship in the light of the new day.

“Quinn’s OK, too?”

“Yeah, she’s better,” Harry said. “We talked it out, got to the root of what’s been bothering me.”

“I know it’s been tough for you, H, but it won’t be like this forever. You’ll get out there again and if you can’t, we’ll find something for you to do. That’s kind of my job.”

“Thanks. Quinn said the same thing.”

“You talked to Quinn about all this?”

“Yeah, after our argument yesterday.”

“Hmm.”

Harry stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean, Jeffrey?”

“I just never thought I’d see the day when you actually opened up to someone you’re seeing in a real, authentic way. She must be a keeper.”

“She is, and I’ve known that for a while now.”

It was Jeff’s turn to stop. “Should I start writing a speech?”

“No, Jeffrey. Don’t start writing now, but I’m just saying, yes you will one day need to write a speech. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” Jeff said. “I’m just happy for you. Happy that you’ve found someone that you care about, who loves you right back.”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs, but it’s always come back to Quinn,” Harry said. “She’s given me more chances than she probably should and being with her makes me want to actually fight for what we have. And now just getting to be with her, with no distractions…it’s like I still love her even when she gets on my nerves or loses her cool. I feel like I finally have what you and Glenne have.”

“And it feels great, doesn’t it? Knowing that you have your person waiting for you at the end of the day.”

“Yeah. Best feeling in the world.”

“I thought you said that about performing,” Jeff teased.

“That was before I met Quinn.”

They kept the rest of their hike light and returned back to the house an hour later. Jeff headed to the bathroom to rinse off and Harry went to the kitchen, in search of some water. When he entered the room, he saw Quinn, drowsily making a cup of coffee while her toast was cooking.

“Where’d you run off to?” she asked, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Jeff and I thought we’d squeeze a hike in.”

“Oh, fun. Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah, it was great.”

“I can make you some coffee and toast if you’d like.”

Harry cut across the room and pulled Quinn into him, slotting his mouth over hers and kissing her firmly. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“OK, great,” Quinn said, slightly dazed from the sudden show of affection. “Get cleaned up and we can eat by the pool.”

Quinn had to work, but with the team having a better handle on how to produce a remote show, she had more time to spend with Harry, making an effort to chat with him throughout the day and take a lunch break to relax with him. Harry in return, tried not to crowd Quinn when she was in the midst of meetings, finding ways to occupy himself until she was finished.

She made an early day of it, signing off hours earlier than she usually did in favor of lounging by the pool with Harry. They read their books and chatted and napped lazily, taking short breaks to cool off with a game of volleyball in the pool. They made dinner together, surprising Jeff and Glenne with the home cooked meal, and ended their night watching more Bravo on the couch. It was a great day, save for the nasty sunburn Harry acquired from their time outdoors.

“Is it bad that I like this?” he asked quietly as Quinn rubbed cooling aloe vera gel over his face and chest.

“Getting rubbed down by me?”

“I mean, yes, but no. Getting to spend time together like this. I know this is a terrible situation, but I’m happy that we’re taking this time together. Even if it’s had its tough moments.”

“I get what you mean,” Quinn said in response.

April slid into May and May turned into June, even though it was hard to tell the days apart. SNL had wrapped up its brief stint of remote shows in early May, so Quinn’s workload had cooled considerably, meaning she had plenty of time to laze around with Harry.

They were in their favorite lounge chairs, resting by the pool when he broke the news to her.

“I think I’m going to head home soon. To London.”

“Already?”

“It’s been three months. I’ve been looking into how to do it safely.”

“Oh.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

Quinn sat up. “Come with you to London?”

“Yes. I thought maybe we could get some of your stuff in New York, new clothes and other things you’d need and then fly out again. That way your stuff would be in London. You know, when you’re there with me. So you don’t always have to pack all of your stuff” Harry was trying to sound casual but the tremble of his voice gave him away.

“Are you trying to ask me to move in with you, Harry?”

“Maybe?” He looked up at her sheepishly.

“Wow.”

“I mean I know we talked about doing it in the future. But, I mean, we’ve basically been living together for the past three months. So why not keep on doing that, just actually in a house that’s ours.”

“I think you’re playing fast and loose with the word ‘ours.’”

“That’s just semantics. The point is you don’t have work for a couple of months, so now seems like a great time to try. But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Quinn mulled Harry’s words as he continued to talk. “I know we’ll have to reevaluate come fall depending on what we’re doing with work, but it could be fun for now.”

“Let’s do it,” Quinn said suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

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[spelldaggered]

storm

fandom: mcu pairing: tony & peter words: 2091 warnings: headaches/migraines

--

The city rain was merciless that night, unrelenting and painfully cold, the kind of rain that soaked a person in seconds and left them frozen to the bone. The raindrops were loud too, hammering on rooftops, on the sidewalk, on the cars sat in hours-long jams, their honking and revving combining with the rain and the general sounds of the city to create an overwhelming evening in NYC.

Tony was losing his mind. Peter was losing his bearings.

It had been a stupid argument that drove Peter to storm out of the Avengers campus, an uncharacteristic move that in Tony's opinion, only added to the point he was making. Peter was sick, nothing major, just rundown and overworked from trying to juggle his final year of high school and the pressures of keeping a watchful eye over his town each night. When he'd shown up to work with Tony that night, it had been pretty damn obvious he should have been in bed, not hunched over a workshop counter playing with something that could wait.

Well, obvious to Tony at least, which must have been obvious indeed, given Tony's own penchant for overlooking his health in favour of doing something more interesting than recovering.

Peter wasn't Tony though. Peter was Peter, and Peter was a kid, despite his increased protests at that statement since he'd turned eighteen, and Tony had a responsibility as his mentor to make sure he wasn't about to collapse on the spot. That, and he also just cared about the idiot.

So when Peter had walked through the door looking a couple degrees shy of alive, Tony had laughed at him, and told him to turn straight back around and go home; Happy might even still have the car running. The laughter, it turned out, was the mistake. because Peter, tired and unwell, was not in the mood for jokes, and missed the light humour in Tony's words.

Instead, he heard 'go home' and the less kind 'you look like shit', and had decided after a week of working himself to the bone, that that wasn't going to cut it. It was the first time Peter had ever argued back with Tony, the first time he'd ever raised his voice, and that alone was enough to stun Tony into a rare moment of silence, which Peter reacted to with a scoff, a roll of his eyes, and a dramatic storming out.

And eighteen his ass, Tony thought the terrible teen years were meant to be behind them.

He’d sat there for a moment, considering what the hell had just happened, and then, just in case Peter wasn't finished having his little tantrum, followed the kid out of the workshop to ensure he wasn't wreaking havoc across the rest of the building. There was no sign of Peter though, only a very confused looking Happy walking towards him.

"What the hell just happened? I only dropped him off ten minutes ago, now he's walking back out the front doors? What, my driving not good enough now?"

"Your driving's fine, Hap, as careful and slow as usual. We just had an argument."

"An argument? With him? The kid?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah. Y'know, it turns out he can really yell when he wants to. The acoustics in my new workshop... very impressive."

"So you sent him home?"

“I advised him to go home. Like I advised him to find you for a lift. Does he even realise how far it is from here to the city?"

"Well he looked pretty determined when I passed him. He’ll be outside by now."

Tony looked out of the nearest window at the miserable weather. "Great. Come on, let's go find him."

"You're coming with us?" Happy asked, making his way back to the car he'd left only minutes ago.

"i've spent too many years with Pepper, I know better than to leave an argument unresolved."

Happy looked sadly out of the window again as they walked. “I just had the car valeted."

Tony had been expecting to catch up with Peter somewhere along the main drive into the campus, probably looking damp, and almost certainly looking slightly ridiculous. He hadn't banked on Peter being nowhere to be seen. With a couple of choice words after realising Peter must have started running, Tony instructed Happy to carry on driving back to May's apartment. They were bound to run into him at some point along the way; kid could run, but he wasn't that fast.

Except, as it turned out, Peter was pretty fast apparently. Either that, or he'd taken a different route back into the city, and since he wasn't wearing the suit - Tony had checked - they couldn't track him. Undeterred in that moment, Tony had suggested to Happy that they carry on driving, occasionally taking a slightly different route, and just cruise round the city until they spotted him.

That had been an hour ago, and Tony had severely underestimated how busy the city would be, and how hard it was to find a single person among crowds of people through windows smudged with raindrops.

"You want to turn back and get the suit?" Happy shouted to him from the front seat, trying to make himself heard against the rain while Tony had the window down and his head poking out of it.

"Not yet," Tony yelled back; wandering the city as Iron Man brought with it an entirely different set of complications.

"Okay, but we haven't moved in fifteen minutes now, boss."

Tony ran a hand over his face, a mixture of stress, annoyance, but mostly concern. "Okay, i'm going to look for him on foot."

"You sure?" Happy asked, glancing up at the dark grey clouds above that suggested the rain was going nowhere for the minute.

"I gotta find him, Hap," Tony said by way of answer, already halfway out the door. "Keep your phone on, and call me if May rings again."

Happy gave him a nod and then Tony was off, slamming the door behind him and immediately drenched from the sheets of rain coming down.

"Where the hell are you, Peter?" he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his collar up against the weather, which did absolutely nothing, before pressing on to start roaming the city's streets, checking all of Peter's usual hangouts.

Peter, meanwhile, had regretted his rash decision to storm off approximately five minutes after doing so, by which time he was already halfway home, having channelled much of his anger into a sprint that would put athletes to shame. Deciding to press on, he was starting to realise that Tony had very much been correct in his assessment of Peter's physical state, and he'd perhaps even underestimated just how lousy Peter felt.

The week had been a tough one, just the latest in a fairly long run of tough weeks, and Peter had been so sure that a night spent working with Tony on something non-school, non-superhero-related was just what he needed. The rejection, which his rational brain knew wasn't a rejection, but his sick, overly-sensitive self took as such, stung more than it should have, and although his outburst was foolish, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't entirely unjustified.

Thoughts of their argument were long gone by now though, after an hour spent stumbling around in the rain. Peter had been certain he was on the right track home, but after a while, nothing seemed as familiar as before, the bright lights around him not the ones he recognised. His phone had died, which was less than ideal, so he'd done his best to keep walking until he found somewhere he knew, and could right himself, but that moment never came.

Instead the rain just kept falling, and he grew colder and colder, and the slight headache he'd had before upgraded itself to a fully-fledged migraine. The lights around him were suddenly too much, blurring together and making it difficult to see straight, and his heightened hearing was proving overwhelming against the shouts of the crowd, the constant traffic, and the ever-present rain splashing on the streets.

The first crack of lighting across the sky had him flinching, a stabbing pain behind his eyes that made everything go black for a second, and the thunder not far behind had him covering his ears in pain. He thought he might have yelled out, but the sound was lost amongst the evening traffic, and it was busy enough that no-one noticed a stray kid staggering to one side, completely disoriented, eyes screwed shut against the world and his own head.

He carried on, hands clamped to his ears, eyes barely open and unable to see where he was going anywhere. He'd given up on even making it home by now, he was just aiming for somewhere he could sit down and wait out the rain and this headache. May was going to be furious, and Tony probably more so, but those were problems for later. For now he'd just try and stay upright, he thought to himself, two seconds before walking straight into someone.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not even looking up to apologise, but the hands that had caught him steadied him, and stayed attached to his upper arms.

Distantly, Peter realised the person he'd run into was talking to him, and he frowned, not sure how to convey that he wasn't able to manage any sort of conversation, and hoping he'd not done something stupid. The world was spinning, despite someone holding him fast in position, and Peter suddenly wasn't feeling very confident in his ability to stay upright.

Tony surveyed Peter, took in the way he was listing to one side, the sickly white pallor of his skin, and the clear pain etched in the frowning lines of his face, and panicked. It was clear Peter had no idea it was Tony who was holding him - which threw up all sorts of secondary concerns about stranger danger - and Tony wasn't about to terrify him by manhandling him away without identifying himself.

Realising he had no choice, and wincing before he’d even done it, Tony gently, carefully peeled one of Peter’s hands away from his ear, just long enough for him to whisper something someone with super-hearing would still be able to pick out amongst the chaos.

“It’s me, kid. I’ve got you.”

It took a moment for the words to register, but Peter slowly opened one eye just slightly, clearly recognised the vague, blurry outline of a very wet, very worried Tony Stark, and visibly sagged with relief. Tony, alert enough to realise Peter was spent, quickly lunged to grab him properly, and then with nothing else for it, lifted Peter up into his arms, the boy immediately turning his head into Tony’s chest to block out even more of the light, a hand weakly holding on to Tony’s coat.

“It’s okay, Peter, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, kid. Let’s find Happy.”

Whether Peter could hear him or not, Tony kept up his reassuring murmurings as they ducked into a side street and waited another few minutes for Happy to tear round the corner, careering up on to the sidewalk in his hurry to get to them.

“He okay?” Happy yelled as he raced out of the car to open the door for Tony to slide into, still holding Peter.

“I think so,” Tony shouted back, trying to clamber into the car as carefully as possible without jostling Peter around too much.

There was visible relief in Peter’s face when the door slammed shut and the noise grew considerably quieter, just the still calm of the back of Tony’s car, warm from the heaters Happy had left running.

“M’sorry, Mr Stark,” Peter mumbled, still pressed into Tony’s side.

“Forget about it,” Tony said, stroking his hair a little, and finally allowing himself to lean back into the chair as it sunk in that Peter was here, safe, and not collapsed in a heap somewhere in the city like he’d been fearing for the last hour or so. “You’re safe now, kiddo.”

Peter managed a small smile at that, and then relaxed a little, and Tony suspected he was about to pass out. And he was okay with that. When he awoke, he’d be back at campus, in a warm bed, with strict orders to rest, and no doubt Tony, May and Happy fussing over him for the next week. He was allowed to sleep for now.

“Thanks, dad.”

[msfbgraves]

'Sinister': Credence Barebone's magic touch

Is Credence left handed? This may be a trivial detail for anyone but Ezra, who plays him, but one worth considering.

He doesn't really clock me as a leftie in his first film. If I were handing out flyers, I'd be using my dominant (left) hand, and in his first appearance, he is using his right hand. He does that again in a later scene. Perhaps more heartbreakingly, he hands his mother his belt with his right hand and is later whipped with it on the same right hand (a sentence that makes me blood curlingly furious typing it even now).

Now I didn't pay the matter much mind after that because these things all indicate that this is his dominant hand. (Even the whipping. That's extra cruel, disabling someone's dominant hand.) At the end of Crimes of Grindelwald, he used his newly acquired wand with his right hand. It would make sense to do something that monumentous with your dominant hand.

But every other time magic comes into play, Credence is indeed using his left hand!

The first time he sees a wand, he grabs it with his left hand. When he lets out his Obscurus for Nagini, he uses his left hand. In the new trailer, when he is wreaking havoc, he uses his left hand for magic. He either holds his wand in it or he uses his left hand to cast his, now flaming, Obscurus. (And the bloody feat it must be to cast an enhanced Obscurus, but I digress....)

Now I really don't like what this means thematically. 'Sinister', the Latin word simply meaning 'left', has acquired all kinds of -ahem- sinister undertones, and Credence is already strongly coded as "misunderstood victim turning malicious due to trauma". We don't need that all the time, we also got it with Queenie, and to a lesser extent even with Draco, whose Dad mistreated him in the films. We don't need: "See, he's using his evil hand for evil magic, and we put him in aggressive red and black to hammer the point home!"

But as a character detail - Ezra you genius.

If Credence ever used his left hand for anything he must have gotten punished for it. Left is bad, bad boy! Another side of himself he'd have to suppress, and he'd learn that his right hand is for respectable actions (as it is culturally in many places still).

So he does it even when Ma is not around, although nobody in NYC is going to whip him for handing them a flyer with his wrong hand. He holds Nagini's hand with his right. He even takes the wand from Grindelwald with his right.

But I tell you from experience - doing everything with your nondominant hand is draining. It makes you feel weak. You get used to it, and Credence uses his right hand a lot, but even with a greeting you feel weaker. Imagine, right handed people, giving a 'hearty' handshake with your left. Feels a bit unsteady, doesn't it? Maybe a little bad? So now for Credence, using his right may feel respectful but weak (he uses his wand righthanded in the trailer for the subtler stuff), and using his left may feel disrespectful, wicked, but oh, so powerful and as a huge 'fuck you!' to the world. He's likely better with his right than many with their left, because of training it through decades of forced use. And, poor bean, he still reverts to it when he wants to be respectful. His true self, his magical self, his I'll fuck you up most powerful self is his left self, though.... the one that feels good that he's taught to see as wicked... And his right, which he was taught is well, right, feels bad...

Same with his hair. A lot of wizards wear their hair long, and it must feel so free and powerful after that awful cropped do (which was 100% intentional on Ma's part, as Credence must have been a worryingly beautiful boy. Not handsome. Beautiful, feline, queer, transgressive), but also... not quite proper. Not quite decent.

Now of course he could be ambidextrous - but when it comes to power and magic he strongly prefers his left hand, while when he wants to be seen as respectful he uses his right, and that just adds ten extra layers to his conflict.

[iamnmbr3]

Hi. I've been reading threw a number of your posts related to Loki 2021 and the general impression your post give is that you don't like how Loki 2021 has been written and present (which I understand because while Loki is not a favourite character of mine, I want to see his character done justices). And I guess I was just wondering how you would have tackled Loki 2021, using the plot elements that have been established in the show, but with your own spin. Thank you :)

That's a great question! I think the premise actually had a ton of potential. @nikkoliferous and I often talk about all the really cool things that could've been done and why it's so particularly tragic that they wasted all that good story setup. I think there are 3 main types of directions the story could've gone in with this premise (and then a lot of variations within each type).

Direction 1 - A buddy comedy with a heart

So I think this is what they were trying to go for with Loki and Mobius's dynamic based on the narrative framing and how all the interviews have presented Mobius in a positive light. (Though that's not what they actually wrote at all).

The way to do this would be to set Mobius up in a more sympathetic way and put him and Loki on more even footing. They could've had Mobius be almost as much a prisoner as Loki. They could have started out with him being pretty indoctrinated into the TVA worldview, but also being considered expendable. We could've seen his superiors threaten him with deletion if he can't make things work with the Loki Variant. Maybe he even feels some compassion for Loki and convinces his superiors that Loki can be useful and shouldn't be deleted since he's powerless to do anything else and he figures being enslaved is probably better than dying. Loki could actually be in-character and question Mobius's world view etc. And Mobius could to the best of his ability treat him decently instead of smugly mocking and tormenting him.

We could have Loki escape early on and end up bringing Mobius along with him, either by accident or because he realizes Mobius will be killed for losing him and he feels bad about it. Then we have them thrown together by circumstances and they could slowly grow to trust each other over the course of the show. The series could dig into the parallels between them. Loki could point out to Mobius that he repeats the propaganda he's been taught but he's hardly less of a prisoner than Loki and his masters are hypocritical. This could also lead to Loki realizing that while maybe he wanted to tell himself that he was an ally of Thanos's the truth was anything but.

While they're on the run both could start to realize they're experiencing freedom from the first time. Mobius could learn to question the TVA and Loki could realize that maybe he can be himself and doesn't have to be a tool of Odin or Thanos. Loki could could grapple with how much control he had while attacking NYC (thus allowing Disney to leave that a bit open to interpretation without totally sweeping the torture and mind control under the rug) and Mobius could grapple with how complicit he has been in the TVA's horrific actions.

Rather than Loki "learning to be trustworthy" (smh) Loki could learn to trust someone else and that not everyone will betray him. Mobius could also be a stand-in for more casual viewers and slowly realize that Loki isn't just the uncomplicated villain he at first took him for. There could be a nice mix of substantive character drama and entertaining hijinks. And of course in the end they could burn the TVA to the ground and liberate all realities. There's so many variations on this and @nikkoliferous and I often chat about them. Because the show could've been so good! And yet. </3

Direction 2 - The TVA & Mobius are acknowledged as the great villains they are

This is kind of what they're making by accident without acknowledging it which leads to a lot of emotional dissonance in the narrative. In canon the TVA is a horrific organization and Mobius seems happily complicit. He doesn't seem to have any compunctions about supporting their agenda of using murder, genocide, forced labor, enslavement, torture, police brutality, sham trials without due process, and privacy violation to eliminate free will. He happily forced Loki to toil under threat of death, mocks and humiliates him, manipulates him, and participates in acts of torture. He is INCREDIBLY creepy and a great embodiment of the "banality of evil" concept. The TVA is also absolutely terrifying.

If the show actually leaned into that it would create a great sense of narrative tension. Loki has escaped Thanos only to once again fall into the hands of a horrifically evil and powerful enemy. And it's up to him to figure out a way out of this situation and a way to liberate all of reality from their grip. In this scenario it might be useful to introduce some other prisoner characters so that he has some friendlyish faces to interact with...and potentially an army to lead against the TVA after he's won them over and figured out a plan.

Mobius's parallels to Odin and Thanos would work really well here because having Loki eventually defeat him and tell him he doesn't get to tell Loki who he is or make him into a tool of evil would be hugely cathartic. We'd get to see Loki stand up to and defeat someone who parallels the two individuals who have most hurt and manipulated him and decide to make his own way from now on rather than trying to be what others make of him. It would be awesome.

Direction 3 - TVA are twist villains

Some people think this might be the direction the show is going. The problem is that if that's true it'll just fall flat because the TVA is already clearly villainous so there's no twist. In the first episode already we see them commit acts of murder, genocide (wiping out a whole timeline because they believe the beings in that timeline belong to a class - variants - that are unworthy of life), police brutality, trial without due process, privacy violation, torture, and illegitimate imposition of rule (they are not elected in any sense and yet they have appointed themselves the arbiters of reality) all in the service of eliminating free will. That is...not what heroes do.

However they COULD have been good twist villains with just a few tweaks. Maybe they approach Loki and play on his deep yearning to be viewed as good and worthy as well as his self-hatred and poor self image to convince him that an "evil" version of him is wreaking havoc and they need his help. Maybe they also sweeten the deal by offering him protection from Thanos and the Black Order since he has no idea they are dead in this timeline. (If you wanted to keep audiences more in the dark you could have them just talk about the Black Order so that audiences at first assume they are still hunting Loki even tho Thanos is dead and don't realize the TVA is manipulating Loki).

At first they don't do anything overtly evil. The authoritarian aesthetic would seem like a humorous parody of office culture. It would then take on a new, much more sinister meaning when the TVA get's revealed as evil later and we learn that they obliterate entire timelines, murder people for the slightest infractions, don't view variants as people, and want to eliminate free will. Mobius could either appear first as a friend and then get revealed as a villain or have a redemption arc where he ends up siding with Loki.

Also for all of these scenarios the script and characterization should be good. I should see Loki, not Larry his dumb lookalike cousin. The script should have Loki doing and saying things that are in-character. (Which certainly doesn't preclude humor since Loki's wit is one of his most iconic features!)

[squishneedsahero]

Jordskjelv

The Earth Shaker

Part 1 of ?

Word Count: 1885

Loki x Reader

Just a 2012 style avengers fanfic that is Loki x Reader. Sometime you just need cute fluff that is absolutely nothing more than self indulgence.

It had been a normal day, you going to work at the little cafe, serving people coffee and sandwiches, just living your normal life. Then things had shown up on the news, an attack in New York City. Aliens coming down from the sky and wreaking havoc on the city, and then you saw him and your heart stopped. The customers were all distracted so you called out on your break then and there, pulling out your phone and looking up the fight in NYC, you kept looking for any glimpse of the man with a red cape flying around with a hammer in hand.

"Thor," it comes out as a breathless whisper.

You don't care that you're in the middle of a shift, you shout to your coworkers that you have to leave and walk out the door. You needed to get to NYC, you needed to find Thor, you couldn't get there fast enough. Surely the fight would have ended by the time you even make it to the outside of the city, but hopefully you could make it on time to find Thor. Thor was the only chance you had for getting your old life back and you had missed him the last time he'd been anywhere close by.

As you get in your car and take off driving at a reckless pace you let your mind fill with memories. You'd grown up with Thor in Asgard, your name was actually Faylwyn even if here in Midgard you went by y/n. You'd run and played and trained alongside him and Sif and the Warriors Three. Then once you were a bit older you had gotten in trouble, gotten on Odin's bad side, and he had banished you to Midgard. Thor had to have not known that you were alive, else he would have come looking for you.

But it isn't Thor you care about here. You glance at the bracelet around your wrist, beads strung on a strand of black hair, intertwined with a strand of your own hair. It was all you had left of your life on Asgard, you'd been friends with Thor sure, but he was just Loki's dumb older brother. You and Loki had been inseparable, hell you'd even given each other love locks, thats what this bracelet was, you'd had to cut it out of your hair, but you couldn't just give it up. You'd put some beads on it to hide what it truly was but it was your most prized possession.

The lovelocks had been hidden, hidden under layers of your hair so that no one knew besides the two of you. You and Loki had had wonderful plans, plans to run away together, to explore the universe together, to get married once you were old enough and to spend the eons with one another. No one had known this, no one but the two of you, Odin was unlikely to allow it, Frigga had to listen to her husband, and Thor had a big mouth. No one had known the full extent of the love both of you shared for the other, but now you had a chance, a chance to find him again after 700 years of being in Midgard alone.

You had never stopped loving him in all that time, you had longed to be by his side once again, you could only imagine the pain he had felt with whatever story Odin had decided to tell of your disappearance. Now you had that chance to find him again and you weren't going to miss it for the second time. Your one and only fear was that, he might not love you anymore, after all this time that he had moved on while you hadn't.

You drive all day, the fight is long over when you reach the city, it's the middle of the night and the streets are packed with people and rubble along with alien bodies. There wasn't anyway you could continue to drive, so you got out of your car, leaving it running in your hurry, you don't care you don't need it. You look up on your phone directions to the Stark Tower, it was your best chance of finding Thor, and you begin running. You aren't fast like Captain America but you have stamina, able to run for hours and hours, going for miles and days on end.

No, you weren't Asgardian royalty, but here at least much like Thor was considered the god of thunder in ancient mythology, you were considered the goddess of earth. No, not like Earth the planet, but earth, the dirt, minerals, the ground beneath your very feet. Thor was able to fly, like the lightning and thunder, rushing through the air. You were able to run, moving with ease, being one with the ground beneath you, never faltering calm and steady.

You round a corner and the tower becomes visible, tall and graceful, pointing into the sky with lights illuminating its massive form. It's when you get close that you notice the many agents and people swarming the scene, there was no way you'd be able to get inside unnoticed. And none of these people knew who you were so they'd never let you in, you sigh, time to do something stupid, or at the very least a plan which Thor could have come up with. You slowed your pace, finding your way into an alley, then to a side door. "Here goes nothing," you say softly to yourself as you pry the locked door open and step inside.

Instantly alarms begin wailing and SHIELD agents begin to swarm towards your position. That was fine, you didn't want to hurt any of them but causing a scene would get the attention you needed. You needed to pose yourself as a big enough threat to need the attention of the heroes who had fought the aliens, any less and they'd ignore you, thinking you're some crazy from off the street. The agents surround you and you don't make a move, letting them go first. You don't want to hurt them, so you need to judge their skill first, you'd been fighting for nearly a thousand years, you'd easily be able to take them down.

The first to approach you with their gun, telling you to surrender since you weren't supposed to be here, you punch in the nose and knock them out. Seeing the ease with which you did that, leads to them calling for backup. Perfect. From there you focus, feeling a heavy sensation in your stomach as you do, slowly the ground opens up enough to sink their feet in and trap them, and one small, earthquake later their guns are on the floor.

You approach the one who had called for backup, and look them over briefly before speaking. "I need to talk to Thor, can you make that happen?"

They seem confused with your sudden loss of aggression, but nod, placing a finger to their ear as they reached out through their coms, "Director Fury, the infiltrator on the ground level wishes to speak with Thor. They have disarmed us and and have us all trapped my our feet in the floor but they do not seem to pose a threat as long as they see Thor."

You nod once and confirm, "I just wish to speak with him, I'm an old friend." With that you step back and place the door back in place, as you step outside once again, "I'll be in the park. Tell him I'm waiting."

With that you leave, and close the door behind you. Only releasing the agents from the ground once you've made it safely away. It was short and fortunately went better than planned. Now all you had to do was wait, and wait you did. It did not matter to you that it took hours for anything to happen. It didn't mater that you'd slept in the grass that night, and that the sun was rising when someone approached you. You had a chance to see your Loki again and that was all you needed to be happy.

You're awoken by someone speaking softly, "sir, I have eyes on the target." It's a woman's voice, you don't move, and continue to lay there, eyes closed.

It's when you hear the slightest sound of the grass moving that you finally do so as well, sitting up and moving to face her. It's the redheaded woman who was fighting alongside Thor the day previous. You offer a slight smile and a, "hello."

When you move Natasha removers her hand from the earpiece she was wearing, and asks, "you're the one that broke in last night asking for Thor?" It's posed as a question but you feel it's more of a statement.

"That is me, I'd just like to speak with him, I'm an old friend. My name is y/n l/n, at least that is the one you will find me under in all government records. Look me up, I don't care, just let me see Thor before he returns to Asgard," you come to a standing position and hold out your hand, "tell him Faylwyn wishes to see him, he'll know what you mean." With that you turn to walk away.

"Sorry, no can do, you're coming with me, you broke into a secure facility and took out multiple agents. You don't get to walk off right like that," she says and reaches for her hip.

You turn back to face her as she speaks, glancing at her hand before meeting her eyes again, "I'm willing to come peacefully. You don't have to tase me," you hold out your empty hands to her, "see, you can even handcuff me, just so I can speak with Thor."

Natasha looks at you, you're being genuine on this one thing, though she still doesn't trust you. She had seen the door you'd pried open, the imprints of your fingers in the metal around the latch, there was no way handcuffs would hold you if you wanted to leave. "No need, come on," she nods her head towards the tower and keeps her hand on the taser as she leads the way. You were a threat if you wanted to be, and obviously you were smart. You hadn't caused more damage that a broken door and a broken nose, and from what she had heard and seen on the cameras you could have done a lot more had you wished to do so.

You follow Natasha to the tower and in the doors, around some corners up an elevator and through the hallways to a more private and secure room.

"Wait here," she says as she opens the door for you, letting you in before closing it behind you. Once again, you wait. This is still your best chance, you had no other way to contact Thor, thanks to Odin's being pissed at you even after 700 years. The All-Father could All-ways hold a grudge.

Eventually the door handle jiggles before opening, and you look up, meeting the eyes of the tall blond, the Asgardian armor covering his body and the red cape over his shoulders. He looks at you in shock and says, "Faylwyn?"

[stahlop]

Once Upon a Time 2x13 “Tiny” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10 2x11 2x12

This was a cute episode. I wouldn’t say it was of the caliber of the rest of the season. More like some filler and a little bit of exposition for something bigger looming on the horizon. We did find out that Jack was short for Jacqueline and that James was as much of a bastard as his father. We also find out David’s cursed name is his actual real name. We also now have confirmation that Greg lied to Emma about not seeing anything (I wonder why her superpower didn’t catch that).

Summary: Prince James and Jack befriend Anton when he goes down the beanstalk to find out how friendly humans really are with dire consequences. Emma, Henry, and Gold head to NYC, while Anton wreaks havoc in Storybrooke after Hook reveals that Cora brought him along (shrunken for traveling). 

Opening: Giant pulling a tree out of the ground.

New Character Observations:

Jack: The fabled giant slayer, who is usually a young boy, but in this iteration is a buxom woman who is sleeping with Prince James, but also an accomplished monster slayer (as she has apparently killed a Jabberwock). She and Prince James pretend to be Anton’s friend, but really they just want to attack the giants, steal their gold, and take their beans. She is killed by Arlo.

Character Observations:

Anton/Tiny (SB): Contrary to what we were told in Tallahassee, Anton is not the meanest and the fiercest of the giants. He is actually the runt of all his brothers. He is constantly made fun of for his stature (they call him Tiny), and for dreaming about going to make friends with humans. His brother, Arlo, reminds him that humans took their beans and used them to conquer far away realms, which is why they stopped trading the beans with them. Anton is determined to prove that not all humans are like this (he says that just because a few went conquering doesn’t make them all evil, very contradictory to his thinking the last time we saw him,) so he goes down the beanstalk to meet some. He looks into a tavern and is stopped by James and Jack. Anton tells them he’s always been fascinated by their customs and James and Jack (who just happens to have part of a magic mushroom to make him human-sized) offer to show him around. Anton complains about his family to James and Jack who make it sound like they are abusive to him. At first Anton disagrees, but then realizes they are horrible to him. James tells him sometimes you have to leave home to find the people you’re meant to be with (damn he’s laying it on thick). And poor Anton is eating it up with a spoon, having never been appreciated by his own family.  Anton notices James arguing with someone and Jack tells him the kingdom is broke, but she does it in a way that makes him sound really noble about it. Which makes Anton want to help. Jack suggests magic beans, but Anton is smart enough to not reveal he has those. He does say he has gold he can give them though. Jack kisses his cheek and calls Anton her hero, which is something he’s never been called before. Anton goes to get gold for James and Arlo is in shock that he went down to the human world. Anton insists they’re nice and he’s made friends. But then the sentry birds take off and Anton wonders if he made a mistake. James and Jack are up at the top and Anton says he has the gold for them, but James says they’re there for the beans. Anton is confused, he thought they were friends. Jack sets him straight and says they’ll kill everyone if they don’t bring them to the beans. The giants are being attacked by some kind of army? There’s some kind of fireball in the sky (are they catapulting flaming rocks or something). Anton blames himself for trusting James and Jack. Arlo tells him to raze the fields to get rid of the beans so the humans can’t take them. Arlo goes down after Jack stabs him with her poisoned sword. He dispenses some life advice to Anton about knowing what path to choose, and then gives him a cutting from one of the bean plants, letting him know that he’ll find the right place to plant it and then they’ll have beans again.

Which is apparently Storybrooke! Anton (or Tiny as I’ll be calling him) is shrunk down and has been brought over on Hook’s ship in a cage. Hook just happens to have the key to the cage, so David, Mary Margaret, and Leroy get him out. But Tiny takes one look at David and freaks out. He knocks him and Leroy to the bottom part of the ship before Mary Margaret threatens him with her arrows. Tiny runs off telling David that he’ll pay for what he did. Tiny is at the lake when Regina comes upon him. He threatens to kill her, but she just laughs. She hands him a piece of mushroom that will make him bigger. Tiny is now in town throwing cars around and causing general mayhem. Tiny runs across David and tells him he’s going to destroy everything like he destroyed everything for him. David explains that it was his twin brother, James, that did that. Not him. Tiny wants to know where James is; David tells him he’s dead. Mary Margaret lets him know that Emma is their daughter. He wants to talk to her so she can confirm, but, of course, she’s out of town, so Tiny doesn’t believe anything they’re saying. Rampaging starts again. And then the funniest scene ever; while David and Leroy discuss David’s name, Tiny is chasing after them and runs into the power lines and doesn’t know how to get out of them. When he catches up to them later he ducks under them, because he’s learned. David makes a deal to sacrifice himself to save all of Storybrooke, and Tiny apparently decides he’s going to jump and stomp on David, but ends up busting straight through the ground, and then he conveniently turns small again. David, Mary Margaret, and Leroy see him hanging from a pipe that is running through there. Despite the fact that Tiny just partially destroyed their town, the whole town comes to help rescue him. When David reaches him Tiny thinks maybe death would be better than life, but David tells him he would’ve let go already if that were the case. He takes David’s hand and they rescue him. The town goes to Granny’s and Leroy tells Tiny he can stay there until they find him a place. Tiny thinks he should just go stay in the woods because he usually doesn’t fit in well. Leroy lets him know what types of people they have in town, and that he’ll fit in just fine. Mary Margaret says they all miss their land, but they’re stuck there. Tiny shows them the bean sprout and says he may have a way (but didn’t it take 100 years to grow the last crop?). They find a field and Tiny says it should grow the beans fine. But Cora wanted him in Storybrooke to grow beans. Leroy says the dwarfs will protect the crop and work on cultivating them (work is work, it’s what we do he says). They give him a pick axe and the name Tiny appears on it. Leroy welcomes him into the dwarf brotherhood. Tiny has found a new family.

James: Well, we get to see what kind of an ass James really is. We didn’t really see much of him previously. Just that he was an expert swordsman, but it seems he really does have George’s temperament. He goes after Anton specifically to rob him and most likely murder him, while acting like the nicest person in the world. He has no morals about what he’s doing to Anton and then, when Jack gets hurt, all he cares about is taking off with the treasure and running his kingdom. Too bad karma will get him in the end.

David/Mary Margaret: We start with David politely asking Gold to take care of Emma and Henry while they’re out of town. Gold promises no harm will befall his family and reminds him that they have a deal anyway. David comes out later wearing a gun holster. He mentions missing his sword, Mary Margaret thinks he looks hot with the holster (I kind of agree). They are heading out to find Regina, but she is at their door when they open it. They explain to Regina that Cora framed her and that they are truly sorry for not believing her. Regina wants to see Henry to ‘protect’ him from Cora, but they inform her that he left with Emma and Gold. Mary Margaret reminds Regina that they didn’t know where she was, but she also gets a little snarky by saying that Emma doesn’t have to run anything by her concerning Henry. Please see observations below for my rant about that. Since Regina has now been found and informed, they go to Hook to get information about Cora. Hook continues to piss David off by flirting with Mary Margaret. Hook claims that Cora won’t be there, but David’s convinced there will be something on the ship that will help them find her whereabouts. Hook shows them the giant in a box. He gives them the key when David starts to strangle him and then leaves (Hook knows what’s up with that giant). Mary Margaret tries to calmly let Tiny know he’s safe, but he sees David and freaks. Later on, David realizes that Tiny must think he is James. David tries to get all the townspeople to the town hall while he and Mary Margaret try to talk to Tiny. David goes to talk to Tiny, much to Mary Margaret’s consternation. David explains that Tiny is mad at his twin brother, James, who is now dead, and Mary Margaret tells him they just want to help. They bring up that Emma is their daughter, but Tiny wants to talk to her, which he can’t since she’s out of town with Gold. This makes Tiny madder because James is dead and Emma isn’t available. Leroy questions David about his name. He’s still confused by the end even though David makes it quite clear that his EF name was David as well as his cursed name. They try to lead Tiny away from the town but then realize that will get him to the town line and they can’t unleash him into the real world.David decides to give Tiny what he wants to save the town, himself. Which somehow leads Tiny to making a huge hole in the street that at first he is stuck in, and then he shrinks and is holding on to dear life in. David and the town rescue him and Tiny realizes humans aren’t so bad. When he shows then the bean sprout, David is elated, but Mary Margaret isn’t so cool about it (probably thinking how that will spark another argument between them eventually like last time). David contemplates what would have happened if he had been raised by King George instead of James. Ah, the age old questions of nature vs. nurture. But Mary Margaret thinks that their hearts were different enough that David wouldn’t have succumbed to evil like James did. Okay, Mary Margaret, whatever. There is no way you could know that. Mary Margaret changes the topic to say that she had a lot of fun and missed their old adventures. David brings up the beans again and how they could do this all the time if they went back to the EF. Mary Margaret tells him that home is where their family is, and that’s right here in Storybrooke. She doesn’t think Emma would go to the EF and she won’t be separated from her again. David figures that Mary Margaret is worried about Emma with Gold. He points out that Emma can take care of herself. I don’t think that puts Mary Margaret at ease.

Gold: He is still in total asshole mode when he goes to pick up Emma, especially when she informs him that she is bringing Henry along. He says the deal is only with her, but Emma refuses to leave Henry with Cora hanging around. Gold thinks David is trying to threaten him about his family and mocks him about not being able to cross the town line, but David just wants Gold to protect his family.  Gold gets it and promises no harm will come to them. Gold is driving them across the town line and hopes that his potion still works. Seems a little late to be thinking about that as they’re driving over the line. It works and they’re on their way to Logan International Airport. Once at the airport, Gold seems very vulnerable. Henry mentions that it must be hard to be like everyone else and not be able to use magic (in front of the whole security line, way to be discreet, kid), and Gold is definitely feeling strange about all this. Emma informs him he has to put his shoes and shawl in the security bin and he gets a little scared because he might revert without the shawl on. He threatens another passenger who’s basically mad because he’s holding up the line. Emma assures him her father is just nervous. Gold is not happy that she referred to him as her father. I mean, he’s old enough, I don’t know why he’s taking such offense to that, unless it’s just Emma in general he’s opposed to. He takes off the shawl and starts feeling woozy. They also make him put his cane through, which I find odd since he needs it to walk, but I guess they have to make sure it’s not carrying anything inside. The second he gets his shawl back on feels better. But Gold did not like the feeling that he had without the shawl. Gold is pacing in front of Emma and Henry waiting for the plane and he is not in a good place. After Emma asks him if he’s okay too many times, he heads to the public restroom. He’s taking a long, hard look at himself in the mirror and doesn’t seem to like what he’s seeing. Maybe he’s seeing the coward from centuries ago. Maybe he’s seeing the man Belle doesn’t recognize anymore. Either way, he’s frustrated, and he takes it out on a toilet seat cover holder. He tries to heal himself but nothing happens, as is to be expected in the Land Without Magic, but he’s still a little unnerved about it. On the plane, Gold is gripping the seat rests. Emma tells him they’ll find his son to make him feel better. Gold says he knows, but looks like he is scared out of his mind.

Regina: So she’s completely reverted, just making the town think she’s still trying to change. I guess once Henry’s away the Evil Queen comes out to play. I do wonder if when she comes to  Mary Margaret and David’s at the beginning of the episode if she really was trying to make amends and convince them that she was framed, or if the whole thing was an act. It almost felt like once she found out Henry was gone and Mary Margaret was so condescending to her, that old Regina came out to play. I mean, did Mary Margaret really need to antagonize her like that? Should you really try and antagonize the Evil Queen when she’s just been told her mother tried to frame her? It’s like kicking someone when they’re down. Anyway, we next see Regina when Hook tries to summon Cora. She appears instead and reminds him that he was supposed to kill her mother. She tells him he’s lucky that they’ve reconciled. Regina, acting as Cora’s proxy, wants to know if David and Mary Margaret found the ship and if Hook got Cora’s things off it. Hook informs her she’s been tied up in bed and not in the good way. He does inform Regina that a shrunken giant got loose and wants to murder David. Regina thinks she can work with that. She finds Tiny at the lake and offers him her help. He threatens to kill her but she just laughs. Way to make a shrunken giant feel good about themselves, Regina. She’s talking to him as if they’re just having a conversation about the weather or what to cook for dinner, except they’re talking about wrecking the town and killing people. It’s a little psychotic. She gives him a magic cookie that will make him giant-sized again. Regina laughs evilly as he gets bigger. She’s really embracing being evil again. Also, this is the happiest we’ve seen her since Daniel was alive. True joy on her face when Tiny became giant-sized again.

Belle/Greg/Ruby: Ruby goes to visit Belle in the hospital (complete with basket full of goodies) but Belle doesn’t remember her. She brings her some comforts from home, including a book, which doesn’t trigger anything. Ruby looks distraught that the book doesn’t help her remember. Belle wants to know if they were really friends and Ruby says they were. Belle asks about the magic Gold used, and Ruby blames it on the tranquilizers Belle’s on. Belle says she knows what she saw and that her name isn’t Belle. The nurse gives her a sedative and Ruby is upset to see her friend like this. So, they aren’t trying to acclimate her to the town, just pretend that it’s a normal town? I’m pretty sure Sneezy just thinks the other dwarfs are crazy but they still talk about everything in front of him. Greg witnesses the tale end of this and asks if everything is okay. Ruby says it is and asks how he’s doing. He says he’s mending. Then she puts on the most saccharine smile and attitude to tell him that he needs to finish healing so he can get out of their quiet little town. Because that doesn’t scream that they’re hiding something and they don’t want you to find out what. Greg goes to visit Belle later after her sedative has worn off to tell her he overheard her conversation. Belle thinks he’s there to tell her she’s crazy, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t think she’s crazy because he saw the magic fireball too!

Questions:

Why is Gold afraid the shawl won’t work? He’s already tested it. Does he think the potion will wear off? Also, why would he be driving the car if he’s afraid he might forget?

Why is Gold, not Emma, driving to the Boston airport? Gold has never been out of Storybrooke. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Emma to drive?

Why are Gold, Emma, and Henry driving to the airport in Boston and not Portland, ME? Boston is a 4 hour trip (as stated in previous episodes), which means Storybrooke has to be situated somewhere near Orland, ME (3 hrs and 54 mins from Boston according to Google, yes I mapped this out). They are adding an extra 1 hr and 45 mins to drive to Boston instead of going to the Portland airport.

Anton raises a good question: Why grow the beans if no one uses them?

How have humans never seen the beanstalk? It’s not as though it’s hidden or hard to see.

How is Greg up and about when he had surgery on his chest just that night? This is only the next day.

What are James and Jack doing in that tavern to begin with? Are princes usually hanging out with women in taverns?

When was James supposed to tell Anton about his kingdom being broke? Jack has been with him the whole time.

Are James and Jack the only humans that came up the beanstalk? How have the other giants fallen? There’s no one else there?

How does one grow things in a land up in the clouds?

Why does Cora want beans? To get back to the Enchanted Forest? To get back to Wonderland?

Observations:

Gold mentions the deal that he and David made in We are Both where they promised that they wouldn’t interfere in each others lives.

The town line that Gold, Emma, and Henry drive over is not the same one Gold and Belle were at the previous night.

Mary Margaret mentions that Emma doesn’t have to run anything by Regina regarding Henry. Technically, Regina is Henry’s legal parent. She adopted him, which means she is his legal guardian. Emma may be his birth mother, but (as Regina reminded her plenty last season), she has no rights to him. The fact that Emma just took Henry over state lines would get her arrested anywhere else. Especially because she doesn’t have any written documentation with Regina’s permission. She’s basically kidnapped Henry. And considering Henry brought it up to Emma last year in the Pilot when she threatened to turn him over to the police, Emma should know better. Just because they don’t like Regina doesn’t mean Emma, Mary Margaret, and David can do whatever they want with Henry.

The Jolly Roger is made from enchanted wood.

Ruby gives Belle a copy of Jules Verne’s The Mysterious Island which is the same book Mary Margaret was reading in 7:15 AM.

Arlo mentions that it has taken a century for the beans to be ready to harvest.

How convenient that Jack has a magic mushroom that she keeps on her person for when they meet Anton.

Hook goes to summon Cora with a Queen of Hearts playing card.

James does the same sword twist that David does.

It looks as though Tiny busted through into the underground mines/caverns since there is a never ending looking hole underneath him.

I’m pretty sure dwarfs and giants are related. They both call each brother, they have no females, and they’re made to work (dwarfs mining fairy dust, giants cultivating magic beans). Plus, the dwarf axe gives Tiny a name, which Leroy points out only happens for dwarfs.

So, Emma, Henry, and Gold are heading to NYC where we know Neal is living. So, most likely they’ll run into him. Greg and Belle both saw magic and now know it’s being covered up. Regina is evil again, and Tiny is an honorary dwarf.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes​​​ @thisonesatellite​​​ @justbecauseyoubelievesomething​​​ @laschatzi​​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​​ @mariakov81​

[everymovie2020]

The Day After Tomorrow (2004)

Date watched: 15 June 2019

Okay, let's talk about this movie because I remember it being better than it actually is.  Granted, I haven't seen it in a good long time, but… the last half of the movie is really boring, right?

Plot:

Dennis Quaid is a climatologist, Sela Ward is his ex-wife (but they still love each other) and Jake Gyllenhaal is his precocious son.

So there's some kind of climate emergency where basically an ice age is settling in extremely quickly, and then there these big hurricane style weather events, but they're actually snow, and then in the eye of the storm it literally freezes everything instantaneously as it passes over them.

And these three weather systems are all over the Northern Hemisphere but down here in sunny Australia we are perfectly fine and dandy, thank you very much.

So Jake G & pals are in New York for some kind of smart kids contest, and Quaid and Ward are down in Washington DC.  The first shitty thing to happen to the United States is a series of big-ass twisters wreaking havoc on downtown LA, and honestly, this might be my favourite scene in any disaster movie ever.  The twisters look unbelievably shitty, but like, way to start off on a promising note.  Twisters instead of earthquakes in LA, like, where's that movie?  I want to see that movie.

Plus a dude gets totally flattened by a billboard and I mean, that's just fun for the whole family right there.

The next shitty thing to happen is the mass-floodening of New York City (though realistically I guess other shitty things were happening in other places as well).  I have a hard time believing this could happen as instantly as it does, I mean, basically a wall of water just appears as if out of nowhere and swallows up lower Manhattan.  And it seemingly only affects Manhattan itself – this wall of water doesn't then take out Philly or Washington DC or anywhere else along the eastern seaboard.

So it's a wall of water with a vengeance for NYC, and vengeance it enacts, by fucking shit up and yet being super massive, but not so massive that it doesn't entirely swallow the reasonably small (by comparison) library? Okay.

Anyway, Jake & pals are in the library where they're safe, and he manages to call Quaid and tell him that he's safe, and this is where the movie falls flat because then it's a movie about Quaid walking from DC to New York to save his son, but like, how?  How is he and his two-man (and then one-man, RIP other dude) going to rescue Jake and pals?  HOW?

And it's not like Jake is in any real danger either. They're in a well-insulated library, they've got a fireplace, they've got thousands of books to burn for warmth, plus they're in NYC which is a prime looting area.  I mean, they're gonna be okay, is what I'm saying.

Sure, there's a terrible CGI wolf attack that is meant to ramp up some drama close to the end (ridiculous), and there's the terrible, freezing eye of the storm that's also meant to make you think that maybe young Jake & pals will die, but they're fine, and Quaid rocks up to NYC and "rescues them".

It's very low stakes for a disaster movie.  I mean, San Andreas had Alexandra Daddario and pals stuck in a building that was collapsing around them and the Rock had to rescue them, like, that's high stakes. This is not that dramatic or interesting.

Still, it has some good parts – the tornadoes in LA and once again poor NYC getting utterly smashed in a disaster movie, and it does have baby Jake Gyllenhaal who is a cutie.

I don't know.  I like my disaster movie with a little more wow factor.  A little more razzmatazz.  Give me the ol' razzle dazzle, is what I'm saying.

ALSO - 100% eye fucking in this scene, I WAS NOT DREAMING IT:

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior October 30, 2020 – COME PLAY, THE CRAFT: LEGACY, HIS HOUSE, SPELL, HOLIDATE and More!

Boy, it was really nice having a week off last week, and honestly, I’m thinking of legitimately cutting back the number of movies I review for this column every week, since trying to review ten to twelve movies in any week is just too much, especially if I’m ever gonna get back to the box office stuff. I don’t expect that to be any time soon since movie theaters are still shut in NYC and any major release is either getting shuffled to next year or onto streaming.

Because Halloween is this Saturday, we can expect a lot of horror movies but a few other things as well. Thankfully, this is also a relatively quieter week as is next week before things absolutely EXLODE once again. Who knows? Maybe movie theaters will be reopened in New York City by then, too.

The highest profile movie of the week (and the one getting the widest theatrical release) might be Jacob Chase’s COME PLAY (Focus), a horror movie that he expanded from his earlier short film “Larry.” The feature stars young Azhy Robertson as Oliver, an autistic boy who discovers a book called “The Misunderstood Monster” on his phone, which awakens a monster called “Larry.” As Oliver’s parents (John Gallagher, Jr and Gillian Jacobs) try to understand what is going on with the boy, Larry continues to wreak havoc on everyone around the boy.

I was generally mixed on this highly high-concept horror movie, maybe because it seemed like a fairly cheesy concept that completely over-utilizes the concept of a monster that inhabits technology to the point where you immediately think of Lights Out. That was also based on a short film expanded into feature, but that was also directed by David F. Sandberg. Chase is a perfectly capable filmmaker, and he has two great actors in Gallagher and Jacobs, the latter playing a far more dramatic role than we’ve seen from her in quite some time.

The problem is that the first hour or so isn’t particularly scary, it actually feels kind of dull and derivative. It’s not really until the last half hour when we get to see Larry in a far scarier physical form than just inhabiting and controlling technology, where things pick up and that last act of the movie does sort of make up for the earlier part of the film.  Come Play isn’t terrible, and I’ve definitely seen far worse, but it’s also no Babadook in terms of doing something original or innovative within the horror realm.

As if we didn’t have enough remakes going on right now, Sony and Blumhouse decided to dump their THE CRAFT: LEGACY, declared as a “continuation” of the beloved 1997 movie, to PVOD this week. I never was a huge fan of the original Craft, but it’s as much a beloved cult movie as any other out there. I truly believe that for any Millennial woman who was in her teens in 1997, this is probably her favorite movie, or maybe it’s just the women I tend to meet.  Anyway, this one is written and directed by Zoe Lister-Jones, who made that wonderful Sundance movie Band-Aid, and it stars Cailee Spaeny as teenager Lilly, who arrives in town with her mother (the wonderful Michelle Monaghan) to live with her mother’s new boyfriend (David Duchovny) and his three sons. Lilly is immediately picked on at school until she falls in with a trio of fellow girls (Gideon Adlon, Lovie Simone, Zoey Luna) who notices Lilly’s ability and wants her to become the fourth in their mini-coven they’ve created to explore their witchy powers.

Even though I know plenty of women who absolutely love the original 1997 movie, and there’s nothing wrong with that, The Craft never really connected with me, so I went into this without any real emotion about the movie being remade… I mean… continued. Oh, let’s cut the crap. There’s almost nothing that connects this movie to the earlier movie other than it’s another group of teenage girls getting into witchcraft. Maybe there’s some easter eggs in there that didn’t jump out at me, but any actual connection with the first movie seems so tacked-on to a movie that just isn’t very good otherwise. (Lister-Jones leans so heavily on her movie’s soundtrack to keep any sort of momentum going.)

As much as I love the cast Lister-Jones put together, particularly Spaeny and Monaghan, her movie is so disjointed starting with all the silly giggly girly stuff at the beginning, to all the Y.A. lovey-dovey Twilight crap (mostly dealing with Lilly’s hunky love interest of sorts played by Nichoas Galitzine) to about an hour into the movie when things finally get darker but then immediately starts falling apart.

I won’t go into further details to avoid spoilers, but it takes almost an hour to get to anything even remotely resembling an actual plot.  If you’ve seen the original movie, you’ll already know the basic arc except that like last year’s Black Christmas remake -- also by Blumhouse – the movie transforms into a big female empowerment fight against the evil man, who you can figure out quite easily who that might be. I generally felt that Spaeny was really misused and the visual effects to show the girls’ powers are so lame I’m wondering how they got past the Blumhouse quality control standards.

This is a silly and mostly obnoxious girls’ movie that made me feel old AF as it chose to deal more with feelings than anything even remotely resembling scares. After watching it, I was far less surprised The Craft: Legacy was being dumped to VOD rather than getting a theatrical release.

Streaming on Netflix this week is Remi Weeke’s feature debut HIS HOUSE about a refugee couple (played by Ṣọpẹ Dìrísù and Wunmi Mosaku) who escape from war-torn South Sudan to try to create a new life for themselves in a small English town when they start experiencing all sorts of weird and nefarious occurrences in their new home.

His House is a bonafide horror movie, but one that’s so entirely unique to the genre by adding the fish-out-of-water experience of two immigrants into the mix. It also seemingly uses authentic African mythology and lore to make the supernatural aspect of the story feel much more relevant to the couple at the movie’s core, while at the same time showing the xenophobia experienced by immigrants in the UK.  That last part is something we doesn’t have many opportunities to experience so much in the U.S., but between this and Steve McQueen’s upcoming “Small Axe Anthology” we get to see how racism in the UK shows its ugly face in a different way than it does here.

Weekes’ clearly has a solid handle on the material for his feature debut, which even includes a small role for former Doctor Who Matt Smith, but I was more impressed with the strong performances by the two leads combined with how Weekes worked with his team to create actual scares in new and intriguing ways.

More importantly, Weekes’ film shows how important it is to establish strong core characters before throwing them into any sort of supernatural horrors, which is why this ultimately works better than some of the other horror films of the week including Spell (see below).

Significantly creepy but tying that into a strong narrative about the immigration situation in the UK, His House delivers on both aspects to create a strong and impressive debut from Weekes. This is a genuinely scary movie that thrives on offering original ideas vs. retread.

Premiering on Premium VOD and Digital (and maybe in a drive-in or two? Who knows?) is Mark Tonderai’s supernatural thriller SPELL (Paramount Home Entertainment), starring Omari Hardwick and Loretta Devine. Hardwick plays Marquis T. Woods, a successful lawyer on his way to his father’s funeral in Appalachia with his family when the plane he’s flying gets hit by a storm. Marquis wakes up trapped in an attic by a Ms. Eloise (Devine) who claims she has complete control over him using a Hoodoo talisman known as a “Boogity.”  Marquis urgently has to escape her dark magic and save his family.

I tried hard to avoid going into this semi-cynically since “horror noir” is now a huge thing thanks to the success of Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Us. Every single horror film with a black lead has tried to combine the same amount of Peele’s socially-aware relevance with typical horror scares. Spell definitely has that despite being written and produced by Kurt Wimmer, best known for the 2002 sci-fi film Equilibrium.

Spell doesn’t take too long getting Hardwick’s family man Marquis out of his comfort zone and back to his Appalachian home where, as a kid, he was abused by his religiously-devout father who believed in the area’s Hoodoo customs. Like classic horror movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and even Hills Have Eyes, Spell is fashioned as people from a different background coming upon strange and deadly Southerners, here represented mainly by Devine’s character but also by almost everyone Marquis and his family meet once they get down to the Appalachia area.

The movie only really gets going once Marquis is trapped by Devine’s Ms. Eloise, and that’s where it turns into a supernatural-tinged version of Misery as he repeatedly tries to escape. I generally love Devine and glad she was able to get more of a lead role that may have normally gone to Octavia Spencer, but Devine has an even harder time getting past her likeable nature, and honestly? By the third or fourth time she has used the term “Boogity” – it’s used a lot – it become even harder to take the movie very seriously.  In general, the movie feels like the filmmakers were trying to throw in too many ideas and only some of them work.

What Tonderai has going for this movie is that he has made a sharp and stylish movie that ably builds the tension as it goes along. It even throws in some deeply disturbing gory movies as it builds to a bit of a revenge action-thriller by its crazy last act. Because of that, Spell finds a way to get past its derivate roots to deliver a thriller that’s likely to keep the audience’s rapt attention despite its issues.

Just in time for Halloween, Netflix releases HOLIDATE, starring Emma Roberts and Luke Bracey as Sloane and Jackson, two people who hate being single on holidays and facing judgment from their families. When they meet, they pledge to be each other’s “holidate” for any festival occasion for the next year.

High-concept R-rated Rom-Com warning!  Not that I’m NOT a fan of this genre when done right, and actually, director John Whitesell (of the “Big Momma” sequels) does a pretty good job getting a lot of laughs out of his amazing cast that includes Kristin Chenoweth (two weeks in a row!), Jessica Capshaw and more.

It’s a little weird seeing Emma Roberts, who I’ve met and interviewed since she was a teenager, in such a racy R-rated role that includes a lot of humor that would not seem out of place in Bridesmaids or an Amy Schumer movie. I’m sure she hates being compared to her famous rom-com star aunt, but Roberts really has mastered the comedy aspect of the genre that’s just as any meet-cute romance. It reminds me a little of two of my favorite rom-coms of 2019, Last Christmas and Plus One, and even if it doesn’t try to be particularly deep or thought provoking, it sure as hell is entertaining.

Despite there being quite a bit of silliness and even some low-brow humor in Holidate, it’s definitely going to be a lot of people’s guilty pleasure, because Roberts and Bracey are so absolutely adorable together. (This movie was so obviously made before COVID because there’s so much partying and Christmas merriment unlike anything we’re likely to see this year.)

Martin Krejci’s THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF WOLF BOY (Vertical) stars Jaden Martell from the “IT” movies as hairy-faced soon-to-be-13-year-old Paul Harker, who lives an isolated life with his garbageman father (Chris Messina). Frustrated by his secluded life, Paul runs away in an effort to find the mother he never met, making a few similarly odd friends along the way.

This is another movie that could have gone either way depending very much on the tone, but its tone is so all over the place that I never quite figured out if this was supposed to be a kids’ movie, something for young adults or just some sort of tax write-off that managed to convince a number of serious players like John Turturro (who has an exec. producer credit) and Chloë Sevigny to get involved.

Martell is generally no slouch himself, having had a number of starring roles, but it seems like this might have been filmed years ago because he looks and sounds like a 10-year-old. You don’t have to get too far into the movie before you see Martell with his hairy make-up, clearly inspired by The Wolfman, as he’s picked on by other kids and eventually decides to run away from home. First, he returns to the carnival where Turturro’s Mr. Silk puts Paul to work as a sideshow freak. That doesn’t work out so Paul runs off and encounters two wild outcast girls, played by Sophie Giannamore and Eve Hewson. That whole time, Paul is being pursued by a detective who wants to bring him home to his worried father.

Sadly, Chris Messina, who has been taking on so many more interesting roles recently, just doesn’t have a ton to do here, and others like Turturro, are so badly overacting it takes you completely out of the movie. The movie does get a little better once Giannamore and Hewson’s characters are introduced into the mix, but Paul’s story never does much to win over the viewer’s interest, so the movie never finds its footing. Even the sentimental final act that introduces characters played by Sevigny and the always great Stephen McKinley Henderson barely makes up for all the earlier silliness. It will be available On Demand and Digitally this Friday.

The movie above has absolutely nothing to do with Andre Gower’s doc Wolfman’s Got Nards (Gravitas Ventures), which is available via VOD right now. It’s a look at the 1987 movie The Monster Squad, which I never really was that into but there’s no denying that it’s the definition of a cult film, because I know so many people who are obsessed with this movie. (Some of are actually in this doc! Germain Lussier and Jen Yamato, I miss you guys!) Gower’s doc covers how the movie got made with Shane Black co-writing it with director Fred Dekker, who basically went on to make…um… Robocop 3. This isn’t quite as fun as the recent You Don’t Nomi in terms of a doc about one specific movie, although there’s a lot of great behind-the-scenes footage, and horror fans will love all the nerdy talk about making the creatures and physical effects for the movie. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen Monster Squad in so long that I just couldn’t get quite as excited about this doc as others might. I think if you love The Monster Squad, this movie will make you plotz!

Another, possibly higher-profile doc is Frederick Wiseman’s CITY HALL , which will debut exclusively at venerable New York arthouse Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema today. It’s a four and a half-hour documentary that follows the day-to-day of Boston’s City Hall and Mayor Marty Walsh as they deal with situations both mundane and extraordinary (like the Red Sox’s 2018 World Series win) over the course of a few months. At 90 years young, Wiseman is a veritable documentary legend who has been working in that medium since the mid-60s with something like 45 or 50 films under his belt. (Some of those films have been and will continue to be streaming as part of Film Forum’s “Wednesdays with Wiseman,” many of them including Q&As with Wiseman and other Oscar-winning documentaries.) Surprisingly, I only first heard of Wiseman when he won two awards from the New York Film Critics Circle a few years back for In Jackson Heights (just over three hours long), and there’s no question he’s a master of what he does, which is cinema verité documentary that does exactly that… documents. I honestly couldn’t get past two hours of watching this stuff, but maybe that’s just me.

Also streaming at Film Forum beginning Friday is King (A Touch of Zen) Hu’s 1979 martial arts drama Raining in the Mountain, starring Hsu Feng, which should be worth a view.

Another interesting doc out this week is Julie Sokolow’s Barefoot: The Mark Baumer Story (1091) about a writer and activist from Providence, Rhode Island named… well, you can figure that out… who decided to walk across the country barefoot over 100 days in order to protest people (including a certain POTUS) ignoring climate change.  It’s a pretty amusing and quirky movie, and if you didn’t know better, you might think it’s a spoof ala the amazing IFC series Documentary Now, but no, it’s real, and Sokolow does a great job keeping this quirky average joe interesting through the film’s 85-minute runtime, although he does get a little annoying, because he’s one of those friends who will just not shut up while complaining about Trump… and this is during a walk that took place before Trump’s inauguration! It’s definitely a very unique and different political doc from others we’ve seen this year maybe because Baumer does seem so down-to-earth despite his kookiness. I liked this doc almost but not quite as much as My Name is Pedro from earlier in the year because it does show that weirdos CAN make a difference! It’s available pretty extensively right now on VOD and digital on most platforms including iTunes, Amazon, and more. You can watch the trailer below and find out viewing options HERE:

After a few months of offering Digital Live Screenings, Metrograph is adding “Ticketed Screenings” for those who don’t want to commit the insanely reasonable $5 a month for a membership. First up this Friday is Olivier Laxe’s doc Fire Will Come (KimStim) which follows Amador Coro, a man accused of starting a fire who returns home from prison to live with his mother in Galicia (the director’s ancestral home), an area for having a high number of wildfires. The film, which won the Un Certain regard Jury Prize at Cannes last year, will have a weeklong run, and it includes a conversation between Laxe and cinematographer Ed Lachman, and a collection of Laxe’s short films will also be available.

A few of the movies still available this week (at least through Wednesday) as part of Metrograph’s Live Screenings include Red Squad, The Werewolf of Washington: Director’s Cut, The Edge (as part of the Robert Kramer retrospective), and Roni Moore and James Blagden’s Midnight in Paris. You can learn more about all of these and joining the Metrograph with a digital membership at the Official Site.

Other movies out this week that I wasn’t able to get to:

US KIDS As an Act of Protest (Speller Street Films) Attack of the Demons (Dark Star Pictures) Madre (Strand Releasing)

Probably the most exciting news for those planning to keep Disney+ past the first free year they got through Verizon, is that The Mandalorian Season 2 debuts on Friday! Also, Parasite director Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of Murder is now available On Demand, so if you haven’t seen it yet… do it now! (Also, The Hostis on Hulu, so no excuse not to watch some of Director Bong’s pre-Parasite films.)

[vickirants]

hello ! it’s been awhile haha. It’s already September of 2020, I’ve gone most of 2020 without writing anything... the last time I wrote a post it was still 2019. Well needless to say, 2020 has been a shit year. The same could probably be said for most people around the world.

Who would’ve known that a few days/weeks after I wrote my last post, a little virus would infect it’s first person and continue to wreak havoc on the entire world... enough to become a pandemic. 

WELL... I’ve graduated college. Well technically almost.... I ended up not passing one of my required classes Spring quarter, so I am making it up as we speak, by taking another class to finish off that requirement so I can graduate. So even though I “walked” in June... I just need to finish this one last class, which I will have after this Saturday... then I officially will be a college graduate with a degree !! *yay* 

This year has been honestly shit, especially compared to last year. With the whole pandemic, everyone has had their world flipped upside down. But to summarize really quick what’s happening these last few months... I technically “graduated”, but unfortunately was unable to walk nor have a graduation ceremony due to the pandemic. Things turned to absolute shit in March, which was just at the end of my Winter quarter. In-class finals got cancelled, and moved to be all online for Winter quarter. I had decided to drive back home a week earlier than plan during my actual finals week. I beforehand, was expecting to return to my college apartment after Spring Break for Spring quarter, but when I drove back home that finals week I actually ended up staying home for the next 4 months and didn’t return to my college apartment until I had pack up my things and move out at the end of June. It’s really crazy how things went down, because it was all so sudden. Next thing you know it, my finally college days were cut short. I was pretty upset and a bit devastated in the weeks to followed, but it’s gotten better. I was upset that I didn’t get to say to my friends, didn’t get a proper celebratory graduation experience, nor enjoyed the last bits of my senior year.... but that’s life. At the end of the day, all of that sucks, but I am still alive and healthy and so are my friends and family. I am upset, but things could be worse. 

So honestly, most of 2020 has been living in this “quarantine” life style.  I’ve pretty much moved back home, living with my parents. I’ve been actively applying for jobs, and hopefully will be officially employed with this one job soon if all things work out. At the beginning of March, everyone including myself was too scared to leave the house and go out. Things have gotten slightly better since, but things are by no way back to normal. My parents are currently home most of the time, due to not being able to work because of the pandemic. It’s taken a bit adjusting to living with them again, but it’s ok. I do miss a bit living on my own. 

But yeah, that’s pretty much been my 2020 so far. Living at home, trying to finish up and graduate, and applying for jobs. I can’t believe it’s already September though... that we only have 4 months left of 2020 is crazy. I had a lot of things that I was looking forward to and was excited for in 2020, but unfortunately things changed. Just got to roll with the punches. Here’s to hoping that 2021 will be slightly better than 2020, but at this point it feels like anything could be better than 2020 (?)... I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

It’s crazy to think that I got to travel so much last year, right in time before all of this went down. I’m really glad I got to get some of the travel bug out of me before quarantine. I also am very glad I got to experience studying abroad. I was really hesitant at the time as to whether or not to study abroad in Korea, but I am glad I went and did. 

I feel a bit lost at the moment, as I have “Graduated”, I’m not sure what else there is to look forward to. Especially since we’re not really able to travel anywhere right now, at least by plane. I’ve been thinking a lot about my future, and what it is I want to do and pursue and keep coming up short. I know it’s common for people to feel lost after graduating from college, but... still. Honestly, if I could just travel and live in a new city, like NYC or Seoul, that would be the dream. I unfortunately don’t have the finances to do that at the moment, and I would also need a stable job in the new city in order to sustain myself in terms of living expenses. I’ve considered teaching English abroad for a few years, and while that idea excites me a lot... I can’t help but feel like that would ultimately not lead anywhere and would simply be something I would want to do in the moment and at this age. I can’t help but feel guilty if I do decide to do that... this is because I feel that I need to start planning and working at jobs that could grow into something better and more following graduation. That’s the traditional and typical path expected of people who graduate college. There’s that dilemma of doing what you want at this age, which makes you happy, and what you “should” do that could possibly benefit you later on in terms of security of a stable job and finances. At the end of the day though, there’s no guarantees with anything in life.... maybe I should just do what I want to do.

Ugh.... I’m just writing my thought process right now. This is what’s been on my mind for the majority of 2020 haha. I think the game plan I have at the moment is just secure a stable job for now so that I pay off my student loans and save up some money. Once I do that, I can start looking for teaching jobs abroad. I’ll do that for a few years, or until I get it out of my system then return home and continue with my job search.

I think that’s a relatively decent plan, at least for now...

OK, well that’s all I wanted to get off my chest. I need to go back to studying for my final on Saturday haha. Toodles~

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: TWIN PEAKS - THE RETURN

The awful wigs you like are going to come back in style this summer! Twin Peaks, land of mighty good coffee and awful awful wigs are back, and with them some new bad wigs that we waited 25 years for! 

As there are 18 episodes, I will be updating this post as new episodes air (and adjusting if the show’s wigs wurq as a whole or not). Now let’s journey back to the Black Lodge and discuss:

EPISODE 1 

Good Dale is still stuck in the Black Lodge, while Bad Dale is driving a fancy car, hanging with teenage randos, and having a party in the front (and back!) with the worst male wig this side of John Travolta’s everyday life. 

This wig is the kind of thing you’d pick up at Ricky’s to be a shaggy vampire for Halloween. OOF. The only thing more disturbing than the wig, is of course Special Agent Dale Cooper’s crispy tan which is the second most disturbing tan by an evil dude on tv (Trump's still #1). 

However, Bad Dale’s new life did lead us to the clear star of the show: BEULLA! Glamour, fashion, and beauty wrapped into one. 

Elsewhere in non-wig storylines, some random teenager in NYC is getting it on with Grace from The Nanny and getting mauled to death by glass box ghosts (YOU HAD ONE JOB TO DO, IDIOT!), some nosy neighbor in South Dakota is implicating Matthew Lillard in a librarian murder, Ashley Judd is helping Tony from West Side Story run the Great Northern and Dr. Jacoby is serving double sunglass reveals while getting some sweet new shovels. Obvs? Meanwhile, the Log Lady, now the victim of female hair loss, decides to get on the horn about Dale Cooper. I have to say, this might be the one wig that wurqs in the episode and it’s not technically a wig but a baldcap with some wisps on it. Still, carry on Log Lady - please never change no matter how much hair you lose. Your Sally Jessy Raphael eyewear is still everything. 

The recipient of the Log Lady’s call is none other than Hawk, the most credible member of the Twin Peak’s sheriff service. Michael Horse’s glorious locks are obviously not a wig but let us all luxuriate in them regardless. And let us NOT miss Michael Ontkean who showed his homophobic truth by trying to block his gay movie Making Love from being a part of the documentary masterpiece The Celluloid Closet. SASHAY AWAY FOREVER!

EPISODE 2

This episode doesn’t offer us much more in the way of wigs, but we do get far more intimate with Bad Dale’s awful wig.

This look is decidedly tan Glenn Danzig all the way.

The most upsetting reveal about this wig is that it has a half ponytail involved. NO THANK YOU.

Back in the Black Lodge, Good Dale meets up with old friends Leland, Mike, and Laura Palmer herself - none of which are wearing wigs and none of which seem to have aged at all (though Laura is moonlighting as a lamp so maybe that’s why). Good Dale also meets up with a wise Tim Burton tree who explains that Bad Dale has to come back to the Black Lodge in order for Good Dale to leave. Seems legit, but unfortunately Bad Dale is busy murdering his girlfriend. 

Sorry, gurl. 

We end the episode at the roadhouse where an ubercool indie band is playing for some reason. The lead singer has a pretty wiggy look but all signs point to a dye job. 

We also see the triumphant return of Sherry, whose (wigless) salty mom posse involves none other than Gia Carides, aka LIZ EFFING HOLT FROM STRICTLY BALLROOM! YAYS! CAN I DRINK WITH YOU GUYS?

EPISODE 3

We begin with Good Dale shape shifting through space, meeting a nice lady with no eyes who falls into the void and another lady who points us in the direction of a steampunk electrical plug to the outside world. But do we want to go out there?

We soon discover that the “real world” involves another Cooper doppelganger - Nevada’s own Dougie - who wears a mustard-colored blazer, knows a nice prostitute, vomits creamed corn, and has a terrible wig.

Seriously, I don’t know if the wig budget on this show was given to eye-covering prosthetics or what but clearly they skimped on the wigs. Just seriously depressing stuff - I’ve seen more believably realistic wigs in haunted houses. Speaking of haunted houses, Dougie gets whisked into the Black Lodge and implodes into a sea of black smoke (I finally understand Lost?) Regardless, bye bye, terrible wig! 

Elsewhere, Bad Dale and his bad wig are trying not to barf their way back to the Black Lodge while living through the worst Lincoln commercial ever. It’s unclear where Bad Dale ended up, but Good Dale shapeshifts his way back into Dougie’s life - for better or worse?

Finally, Hawk gives us the best “do not disturb” sign ever (donut disturb 4evr) while he and his luscious locks try to run the Twin Peaks sheriff’s department basically with absolutely no help from anyone else. Ok maybe the donuts helped.

EPISODE 4

Good Dale Cooper is living his life as Dougie Jones, whose son is future/current(?) cult leader, Sonny Jim Jones. Cooper is learning to do everything again, from dressing himself to drinking coffee while assisted by frazzled wife, Naomi Watts. Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper has been discovered covered in creamed corn in South Dakota and his old boss, Gordon Cole (as played by David Lynch) has to look into the matter, but not without an assist from everyone’s favorite trans FBI agent, Denise Bryson.

Denise, like a fine wine, has aged well. As strong and confident as ever, and looking damn fierce.

Compared to the wig David Duchovny wore in the original series, this wig is a serious upgrade. Defrizzed and oh so quaffed, it’s a dignified thing of beauty.

We do get into a grey area here, wig-wise, however. It has been my intent on this blog to never review wigs that we know as an audience to be wigs (thus why I sadly never review RuPaul’s Drag Race).  Denise’s wig in the original series was definitely a wig within the narrative of the show, since Denise (nee Dennis) had only recently come to the conclusion that he was trans and started donning a wig and dressing as a woman.

25 years later, who is to say if Denise is wearing a wig or if we are to believe that this is supposed to be her own hair? Far be it for us to tell Denise what to do with her coiffure so it becomes difficult to judge this as a wig or not. If we are supposed to believe it is a wig, then yes - it’s a good wig within the narrative! If we are supposed to believe it is hair...well it’s not perfect. It certainly looks like a wig, albeit a good wig. As I’ve said time and time again, only if a wig looks like real hair does it truly wurq.

Still, as a character, Denise WURQS so amen to her regardless.

And can I get an amen for Wally Brando? Wigless though he may be, he is a the only possible child of Andy and Lucy. May your shadow always be with us. 

EPISODE 5

We begin this episode as Good Dale Cooper tries to navigate the world in the body of Dougie Jones. For some reason, no one is bothered by the fact that Dougie is basically a walking zombie, from his frazzled wife to all of his coworkers.

Just a guy super stoked for coffee with little ability to function in society - nothing to see here!

Back in Twin Peaks, a wigless Shelly and Norma are looking FINE AS HELL and seem to not have aged a day.

Also Shelly’s daughter (perfectly cast as Amanda Seyfried) has an asshole boyfriend (as played by the asshole brother from Get Out, who is really making a name for himself in the world of asshole characters). 

Oh and obviously, Dr. Jacoby runs an extreme lefty webseries out of his cabin, and whose #1 fan is obviously Nadine:

Who is still lookin’ like the spectacular nutbar we all love.

The only wig of the week is the nightmare on top of Bad Dale’s head. Even behind bars, this wig is wreaking havoc much in the way Bad Dale is hisself! Nope.

EPISODE 6

Most of this episode concerns itself with the increasingly poor decisions of Dougie Jones and with every misadventure, I just long for Good Dale Cooper to wake the hell up! We are also introduced to a slew of new characters. Twin Peaks is truly beginning to get as sweaty with characters as Game of Thrones and winter is friggin’ coming. 

We meet Bathazar Getty, whose early career was spent being an off-brand Liev Schreiber and who has somehow morphed into an off-brand Henry Rollins. He played some coin magic on off-brand young Nicolas Cage (who is in a dead heat for worst Twin Peaks character with Deputy Chad). 

We also revisit our favorite trailer park manager, Harry Dean Stanton, who is an ageless angel.

The only wig this week comes in the form of a lounge lizard played by none other than Laura Dern. 

We are only given one scene with this wig so I don’t have the information necessary to review it properly. In other words - if this wig is supposed to be real hair, it is obviously terrible. But if it is supposed to be a wig as I suspect since David Lynch lounge lizards are usually wig-wearers (see: Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet), then whatever - you do you, Laura Dern! 

(And you always do.)

EPISODE 7

Ugh, wake up Good Dale Cooper! The boring misadventures of Dougie Jones continue in this episode, though he does disarm a little person assassin “like a cobra” so I guess this is progress.

Meanwhile, Gordon Cole visits Diane and we don’t get much more information about her or her wig. Though Diane in general is a mystery. Throughout the original series, she was a faceless secretary that Dale sent daily messages to. Now, whether or not she is trying to pass this platinum wig off as real hair remains the #1 mystery of Twin Peaks. But I’m guessing it’s a wig (within the narrative of Twin Peaks) so whatever. It’s a bad wig allowed to be bad. 

Though now that we have seen her retro cool apartment, I think I know Diane’s backstory:

She’s obviously a latter-day Iona (from Pretty in Pink) who, rather than dating a yuppie (yuck!) decides to take a secretarial job for the FBI while the record store industry dwindled in the early 90s, stopped hanging out exclusively with teenagers, and started calling herself Diane. MAKES PERFECT SENSE. 

Both chicks have an affinity for platinum wigs, apartments with Atomic/kitschy details, and DRAMA.  Well that’s one mystery solved! You’re welcome, internet. #prettyinpeaks  

Anyhoo, Diane (nee Iona) visits Bad Dale in the clink and it was a regular wigout party of nonsense.

I feel like when two bad wigs meet like this, something meaningful should happen, like the Black Lodge imploding or getting to spend more than 5 minutes with any of the original characters.

Instead, we are gifted like 20 minutes of Ashley Judd (bless her, but STILL) following a mysterious sound around the Great Northern. And seeing the roadhouse being swept for what must have been 3 hours. 

We end with Bad Dale getting sprung from the clink by uttering the magic word: STRAWBERRY! Not to be confused with Carol Channing’s magic word, RASPBERRY. Watch out, world: Bad Dale and his bad wig are on the loose!

EPISODE 8

We have so many questions going into this episode, but before any of them can be answered, we have to hear from THE Nine in Nails! The dream of the nineties is alive in Twin Peaks, and this part was a damn nightmare. NEXT!

Bad Dale Cooper, fresh from being sprung from jail, gets shot down by his partner in crime. Is this the last we will FINALLY see of him and his horrendous wig? Probably not, because some ash covered garbage people come over and seem to revive them. Who are these ashy garbage dudes? For answers, we (OBVIOUSLY) travel to B&W New Mexico in 1945.

There, an atomic bomb gives life to these soot monsters, a bug/frog combo, and, of course, BOB! 

Meanwhile, in what might (?) be the same steampunk universe where that eyeless lady that Good Cooper encountered that eyeless chick back in Episode 3, our favorite friendly giant and some chick with some serious costume jewelry and eyebrow tweezers watch these ashy garbage dudes and then are gifted a golden blob with the face of Laura Palmer on it.

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW! J/k j/k I have no idea what is happening. On the wig front, I will say that costume jewelry eyebrow tweezer lady has a pretty sweet finger curl wig. 

Fast forwarding to New Mexico in 1956, we meet a young couple who deliver some incredibly stilted dialogue at one another. Their costumes also suggest a high school play that is set in the 1950s but they only go shopping for costumes at the GAP. We’ve all been there. Doesn’t wurq. Also, I’m not sure what pincurl nonsense is happening on this chick’s head but it is neither historically accurate or attractive. NOPE.

Anyway, ash zombie #1 decides to go on a quest for a cigarette light, which obviously turns into a bloodbath.

I will say this much: this terrible 50s wig deserved to GO. All hail ash zombies! 

EPISODE 9

Bad Dale Cooper lives! All hail ash zombies?? I don’t know if it’s the zombie makeover or what but this is the BEST this wig has every looked. 

Sadly, this is short-lived as Bad Dale Cooper meets up with his accomplices/Academy Award Nominated Actors Tim Roth and Jennifer Jason Leigh and this terrible wig gets cleaned up and its half pony tale back and it looks awful again. UGH. Side note: Tim Roth’s denim jacket with the cut off arms IS THE LEWK. 

Back in Twin Peaks, Lucy and Andy are chair shopping (#TeamBeigeChair) and the sheriff A-team (SCREW YOU AND YOUR LUNCH, CHAD!!!) are doing some detecting. They pay Bobby’s mom a visit, where she reveals a super cool chair hiding place (maybe get this chair, Lucy and Andy?) and a secret message from beyond. Dun dun dun! 

And as always, Diane and her Pretty in Pink Iona wig are KILLING IT as always in fashion and correct opinions. It still remains a supreme mystery as to if Diane is trying to pass this off as real hair, but regardless: let the lady smoke. She’s been through enough! It IS a f*cking morgue! 

In the end, we meet some teenage heroin addicts/vampires(?) with awful hair which is likely just awful hair and not wigs. They also have serious skin ailments that I never want to see again. Let’s just maybe never see them again. Please?

EPISODE 10

We are officially more than halfway through this series and no closer to getting rid of Dougie Jones in favor of Good Dale Cooper. Wake the hell up, Coop! (Tho dang, you’re looking good - and Janey E agrees!) Otherwise, this episode is pretty much all about domestic abuse and its witnesses. Seen here: a wigless Harry Dean Stanton having some guitar “me” time which was ruined by Shelly’s daughter and her terrible boyfriend...

Can you guys please be quiet so HDS can play his damn guitar in peace?!?! Side note: domestic abuse begets domestic abuse: does this remind anyone of Shelly and Leo?

But the scumbag of the week (and the millennium?) definitely goes to Richard Horne. Not to be outdone by hit-and-run child murder, this week he gave us trailer park murder and familial abuse/robbery all while the Teddy Ruxpin of nightmares above must bear (get it?) witness. Oh and yes - we see what you did there with that glowing orb head, David Lynch.

Of course, scumbags love company and OF COURSE Richard Horne is in cahooks with Deputy Scumbag, Chad, who he asks to intercept his trailer park murder victim’s blackmail letter. WE HATE YOU CHAD. Luckily, Lucy is totally on to Chad. #TeamBeigeChair4Ever

Back in Vegas (UGH), Tom Sizemore is setting Dougie up with the help of these wigless, flaky cocktail waitresses. The fact that these three didn’t somehow break into song sorta surprised me. 

The mazel of the week def goes to Nadine, who finally has her silent drape empire in the form of her storefront, RUN SILENT RUN DRAPES. Way to make your lifegoals a reality, gurlfriend! She’s also obsessed with Dr. Jacoby’s vid-blog, but obvs.

We also get some more news from the Log Lady - Laura Palmer is the ONE! Whatever that means? It has been brought to my attention that my previous assessment of this being a good wig may be false - the actress who portrayed her, Catharine E. Coulson, died of cancer shortly after reprising this role. So this is likely her actual hair. I stand corrected! Just goes to show you that just when you think you’ve found a good Twin Peaks wig - it turns out to be real hair. Nothing is as it seems in Twin Peaks but we can always count on the continuity of bad wigs? With this new information - this episode is entirely wigless! Why am I even writing this?!?!

Maybe just to rejoice in the epic performance of Rebekah del Rio (no relation to Bianca, sadly) who we all know and love from Mullholland Drive. Bitch is in straight up Black Lodge cosplay and it WURQS.

EPISODE 11

The more we watch this show, the fewer and fewer wigs we seem to get. And the more we realize we are just stuck with Dougie Jones. Wake up, Good Coops!

Anyway, this week the domestic violence from last week’s episode got particularly EXTRA when Amanda Seyfried decided to amp her Lifetime Movie life up to 11 and get a gun, demand her mom come over with her car, take the car, almost run her mom over, and go shoot at her two-timing, d-bag of a husband. I seriously think I saw this movie starring Tori Spelling a few different times on Lifetime but David Lynch makes it SO MUCH MORE ARTY.

Great hiding place, you guys! Also, why yes that IS GERSTEN HAYWARD, aka Lara Flynn Boyle’s lil sis who is great at piano! 

This did lead to a pretty sweet family reunion at the RR though seriously, Bobby, just arrest your daughter’s husband already.

This reunion was briefly interrupted by coin enthusiast/fake Henry Rollins, Balthazar Getty who OF COURSE is going out with Shelly. You make bad dude choices, Shelly! Why am I suddenly rooting for Bobby?!?!

Oh and also there was a sudden diner shootout followed by passenger seat exorcism, because: Twin Peaks.

The only wig of the week was brought to us by pillar of effervescence, Diane. The jury is still out (and will forever be out?!) on if she is trying to pass this wig off as real hair, but I give up: you just do you, Diane.

And also please continue to sit on stools while the rest of the world sits on chairs. Is that thing from Blaine? Anyway, you’ll always be on a pedestal to us. 

After an some map detective work from Hawk and another call from the Log Lady, an otherworldly vortex sighting, and an unfortunate Matthew Lillard cranial injury, we end the episode in the weirdest Se7en parody ever but hey: there’s always room for cherry pie?

Oh, and god bless you and your fabulous makeover, random casino garbagelady! You look so sparkly! 

EPISODE 12

Why am I still updating this blog post? Why am I still watching this show? Why is it taking everyone five extra minutes to say what they need to say and why am I falling asleep? These are all questions I had during this episode. Not much happens - and slowly. We did get to see some old, familiar faces, though. Our favorite alcoholic, Sarah Palmer, had a grocery store meltdown about turkey jerky (AS ONE DOES) and we finally got a visit from Audrey Horne!

Sadly, it appears that Audrey did NOT marry eyebrow plucking enthusiast Billy Zane in favor of a really grumpy little person named Charlie. Audrey HATES Charlie and all his goddamned paperwork, especially when she needs him to get up and go to the roadhouse with her to find her missing lover, NO MATTER HOW TIRED HE IS.

UGH, Charlie. As with all scenes in this episode, this scene is about 10 minutes too long, and at no point was there any mention of how Audrey’s son killed a kid and tried to kill a lady (CHARLIE IS GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH PAPERWORK TO DO OVER THAT). However, I would have gladly watched Audrey Horne dance to a jukebox for 10 minutes.

Speaking of scenes that go on too long - THIS BITCH. Seriously, how long does it take you to GET THE EFF OUT of a room when Miguel Ferrer has some important business with David Lynch?!

The only wig in the episode remains to be the enigma that is Diane’s wig. I have previously stated that we may never get the information we need to judge this wig and if it is trying to be real hair or not so again: I give up. You just keep doing you, Diane. LET’S ROCK!

EPISODE 13

EPISODE 13 YOU GUYS. I have been updating this long-ass blog post FOREVER and we’re no closer to getting rid of Dougie Jones!! He is even now gifting his family with nice cars and gym sets so it feels like he’s not going anywhere. WHY WHY WHY. Wake the HELL UP, DALE COOPER!!!!

Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper is looking rougher and rougher ever since his Woodsman reincarnation - he is now truly a garbage person. And his wig is still absolute trash. 

This week did test our loyalties in that we found ourselves in an arm wrestling match of the damned and were sorta rooting for Bad Coop against some other garbage people. Coop was victorious (sorry about your face, bro), but with that wig, we are all still losers.

In other bizarre hair news, what the hell is up with Ed’s hair?! This is NOT a wig but I really want to know who was driving the train with this hair “style” if you can even call it that. Looks like some pretty good soup, though. 

Oh, and apparently James can sing in falsetto? Wonders never cease. Still no sign of Lara Flynn Boyle who may be our only salvation at this point. We are all Sarah Palmer watching the same boxing match over and over again hoping for salvation. Maybe next week?

EPISODE 14

We are on the last lap of this show, and things are (sorta, kinda) coming together. Thanks (of course?) in part to the oldest Bond girl, Monica Bellucci, and the prophetic dream Gordon Cole had about her. The puzzle pieces seem to be fitting now. Thanks, Monica! Oh but wait - WHO IS THE DREAMER?! With every answered question comes a new question. 

Luckily, Diane is on the case and ready to drop some KNOWLEDGE AND GLAMOUR on everyone. Like her wig, Diane is an enigma. Unlike her wig (which is still not identified as a wig or not within the narrative - SIGH), Diane is full of super useful information. Dougie and Janey E you say? Oh she just so happens to be Diane’s estranged half-sister! OBVS! Not since Game of Thrones have we had such a convenient familial lineage. Just don’t eff it up, Las Vegas FBI! 

In other law abiding news, Lucy and her gravity defying hair are still the best and she and Andy once took a trip to Bora Bora! UGH seriously guys - bring back Wally Brando. Oh, and the worst sheriff (and second worst character), CHAD, was finally read for filth and locked up for being the worst - just in time for the good sheriffs to take a ROAD TRIP! 

Like most hikes in Twin Peaks, this one involved beautiful scenics, paternal nostalgia, putting dirt in your pockets (OR ELSE), discovering a naked woman with no eyes, and teleporting via creepy vortex into a B&W steampunk nightmarescape and hanging with a giant. I can’t wait for the TripAdvisor review!

Andy was the lucky recipient of the teleport trip and seriously: can this dude PLEASE STAR IN A BIOPIC OF STAN LAUREL? Just saying. Anyway, he met up with our favorite jolly (non-green) giant who sadly didn’t start singing the most appropriate Dolly Parton song for the moment: “Me and Little Andy” but instead revealed his name is not ??? but really THE FIREMAN. Seems legit. Andy also got some cool recaps of past episodes via a steampunk skylight and returned back to earth to keep that eyeless lady safe. 

Speaking of Dolly Parton songs, why was “I Will Always Love You” not playing during this scene??

Lots of missed opportunities, song-wise, but luckily Lucy had some PJs on hand for the eyeless lady from that time the dog got loose. Seriously, I would love to see an entire TV series about Lucy and Andy’s throwaway lines. Showtime: make this happen.

Despite Lucy’s PJ makeover, eyeless lady still has to be locked up with Chad (UGH) and some drunken guy bleeding from his mouth who may or may not be that dude Billy who Sherilynn Fenn and every rando at the roadhouse is always talking about.

Speaking of random characters, David Lynch decided that he still needs to be introducing new ones so meet British Jimmy, who has a magical glove not unlike basically all Marvel superheroes, a destiny only met in Twin Peaks, and a penchant for revealing his entire backstory when it’s his coworker’s birthday. Welcome to Twin Peaks, rando!

We end with our favorite alcoholic, Sarah Palmer, who just wants to have a goddamned Bloody Mary in peace (DON’T WE ALL) without being verbally assaulted by the new worst character in Twin Peaks: a-hole in the TRUCK YOU shirt. Well truck YOU, bro: Sarah Palmer has a soot monster vortex inside her and will quite literally pull your throat off. Sayonara! This is why it’s safer to drink at home watching violent TV. Lesson learned.

EPISODE 15

Hello from officially the longest blog post on this blog (and maybe in the history of the internet?) Are you guys still there? Are we all still watching? We are officially in the final stretch and things continue to come together....sort of. We begin with Nadine, gold shovel in hand, as she finally digs herself out of her marriage which apparently was still intact after all these years! She finally lets Big Ed go. 

Which means Ed and Norma are finally getting hitched! Halleluj! You totally cried about this, admit it. (Sure we cried about Ed’s haircut too but no matter).

Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper and his evil, horrible wig are still up to no good. Also his leathery skin is getting worse and worse by the episode. He rolls up to the gas station of ghostmares and tries to get a meet and greet with Phillip Jeffries (aka David Bowie - RIP!)

The gatekeeper is this broad who is definitely giving Beulla (see: Episode 1) a run for her money in the category of AGELESS GLAMOUR. 

BD Cooper also runs into our least favorite Twin Peaks resident/his possible son, Richard Horne and tells him to get in the car: road trip! Oh and speaking of residents of Twin Peaks we don’t like, Becky’s husband probably killed hisself?

Speaking of death, Dougie maybe just killed hisself? I mean, it’s a modern miracle that he hasn’t already but seriously: get out the way, bitch! Bring back Good Dale Cooper! If he didn’t kill hisself, I guess we all need to prepare for Dougie’s sequel: Electric Dougieloo

Finally, one of our very FAVORITE Twin Peaks residents, Margaret, aka The Log Lady, bid us adieu (as did Catherine Coulson, the woman who played her.) SOB!

We feel ya, Lucy. (Insert sobbing emojis)

EPISODE 16

We’ve come to the last 3 episodes and everything is coming together. The father-son road trip of the century comes to the only possible ending: with Richard Horne being sent up to a rock to be electrocuted. Sayonara, you terrible person! Oh, and yes: Bad Coop was your dad. See ya!

Bad Coop alerts Diane and her still mysterious wig, and suddenly Diane has an acid flashback to all the bad bad stuff that Bad Coop did to her. She recounts the upsetting tale to Gordon and Co and also reveals one more thing: BITCH IS A TULPA! 

And with a bullet to the head, she returns to the Black Lodge to bring it some extra retro fabulousness. Byeeeeeee!

Meanwhile, Dougie Jones (UGH) is in a coma after electrocuting himself. And then, just like that....FINALLY AGENT COOPER WAKES HISSELF UP!

SERIOUSLY. 

Also, thanks for the finger sandwiches, Mitchum Bros! Oh and sayonara to Oscar nominees Tim Roth and Jennifer Jason Leigh (and her excellent collection of mini Cheetos bags) during the neighborhood watch shootout of the millennium. 

Coop tells the Mitchum Bros to fire up the private jet (seriously thank goodness for these dudes)...he’s headed back to Twin Peaks! Yayys! He also says byeeeee to Janey E and our favorite mini cult leader, Sonny Jim Jones. 

Back in Twin Peaks, Audrey and her terrible husband FINALLY made it to the roadhouse where they promptly order martinis (not what I’d order at a roadhouse, but you do you, you fabulous weirdos). The crowd at the roadhouse soon realizes that they are in the presence of dance royalty and promptly and correctly clear the dancefloor so Ms. Horne can DO HER THANG. She does and it’s as dreamy as we remembered it...

Until that dream turns into a DAMN NIGHTMARE and Audrey wakes up in....a mental hospital? An alternate dimension? A remake of The Valley of the Dolls in which she plays Neely O’Hara in rehab (omg someone please make this happen)?! WHO KNOWS?!?!?! WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAAAAAT.

EPISODE 17

It’s come to this: Bad Cooper has made his way to Twin Peaks and Andy is SUPER EXCITED to see him but everyone else has their doubts, especially when the real Coop gives a call from the road. 

Meanwhile, terrible terrible Chad somehow manages to escape and tries to shoot Andy, but not if British Jimmy has anything to do with it! He punches through his cell and right into Chad’s face. Side note: why didn’t he just punch through his cell to get out in the first place? Oh well.

Upstairs, Bad Coop tries to shoot Sheriff Truman but not if Lucy has anything to do with it, and gurlfriend shoots him and saves the day (#TeamBeigeChair4Ever). Then Coop and Gordon and Co both have perfectly timed entrances just as Bob the Blob emerges from Bad Coop. The rest of the scene has Coop’s superimposed face on it (sure?) as British Jimmy fulfills his destiny of punching Bob out of existence. Also: British Jimmy is totally gonna have his own Netflix Marvel spin-off show, right? Also Jim Belushi is all of us during this scene. 

And Andy brings the eyeless lady to Coop in time for her to morph into...

DIANE IN A RED WIG! Sure, why not, right? I guess we know she is the real Diane because of her wig makeover?? Or the fact that she immediately makes out with Coop? WHO KNOWS?! I’m not even sure if we are supposed to believe that this terrible wig is real hair so why am I even typing this?! WHATEVER WE’VE MADE IT THIS FAR LET’S JUST KEEP GOING.

Anyway, Coop, Diane and Gordon go to visit David Bowie in teapot form (yes I just that sentence) and Coop is teleported back to 1989 where we get some sweet B&W flashbacks of Fire Walk With Me scenes showing Laura Palmer about to get herself murdered. But this time, Coop is there to save her! What what what?! Yes, this show is maybe about to rewrite history? Oh no nevermind - Laura was totally kidnapped away by...the forest? Seems legit. 

EPISODE 18

YOU GUYS WE MADE IT TO THE FINAL EPISODE! I still have no idea what the hell is going on with the wigs or otherwise but whatever. We get some more flashbacks to the original series, except no one finds Laura’s body. Curious. Then we see Bad Coop in the Black Lodge turning into a golden nugget (SASHAY AWAY TERRIBLE TERRIBLE WIG) and then morphing into a Dougie tulpa - congrats Janey E and Sonny Jim Jones?

Back in the forest, Coop still can’t find Laura but he does find Diane and her terrible red wig. Close enough? Anyway, they take a roadtrip to some random electrical wires where they shapeshift into a different dimension where they go to a hotel and have the most uncomfortable consensual/not consensual sex scene this side of Straw Dogs.

In the morning, Diane is gone and Coop and the hotel seem different. Coop must go out in search of some coffee at the local diner, where he also has to beat up some cowboy scum because sure - we have time for that.

Anyway, he finally finds what he’s been looking for: LAURA PALMER! Oh except she isn’t Laura Palmer; her name is Carrie Page and she’s never heard of Laura Palmer but she DID just murder some dude so sure: road trip!

They make it back to Twin Peaks in near utter silence (nope, nothing to talk about...) and Coop gets Carrie/Laura back to her mom’s house!

Everything seems to be going great until they knock on the door...

And this beautiful goddess in thirsty thirsty blowdryed locks answers the door. No, she’s not Sarah Palmer - she’s some bitch named Alice Tremont who doesn’t understand anything Coop is saying (you and me both!) WHAT?!

This is the right house, right? Oh wait - what year is it?

WHO KNOWS?! But Laura/Carrie have a good primal scream about it and: that’s it! Seriously, the whole show is over, leaving us with  about as satisfying an ending as The Sopranos or the Gilmore Girls revival. 

In the end, we have no clue what happened but all that matters is: the (few) wigs involved were terrible so let’s all just primal scream about it. And if you are still reading this, kudos to you for reading the longest blog post about wigs probably EVER! 

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

[omgktlouchheim]

Word Vomit Wednesday - Resurrection

Welcome to Word Vomit Wednesday! A series of blog posts where I attempt to process thoughts and feelings around a specific topic or current events that I, and sometimes the rest of the Internet, ruminate obsessively about. All thoughts/opinions/experiences are my own (unless otherwise indicated); I don’t claim anything that I write to represent anyone other than myself.

It’s often said that the only constants in life are change and death. Our traditions, myths, stories, and scientific advancements all in some way have us trying to pull one over on our own mortality (in the approximately 200,000 years humans have existed, it hasn’t worked yet). Sometimes it’s not even adapting to change or coming face-to-face with death that’s most terrifying, it’s confronting and going through the process of loss and grief and coming to grips with a brand new reality. So many of us try to avoid it so much that there are even stories, both real ie: Barbra Streisand reportedly spending around $50,000 to clone her dead dog, as well as fantasy. Many of the latter have a character so consumed and uncomfortable in their grief that they’ll do anything to try to make the pain stop, even bringing back a loved one that they lost. In those stories there’s also typically a warning that states that, while bringing back the dead is not impossible whether by wishes granted by a genie or the use of dark magic, it is forbidden. And, from nearly every vampire and zombie story we know this to be true (unless you’re Barbra Streisand). The reason being that, whoever is brought back is not and will never be the same as you once knew them. To ignore that truth rather than feel the immense loss and move through the grief, is to wreak havoc on one’s psyche and world. But, what if some things come back to life after they’ve been buried? The tears have been shed, the tidal waves of grief have slowed to small swells, and you’ve moved on. And somehow, after a significant amount of time there’s a second chance. Do you take it? How do you navigate it now that you’re the one who’s changed? 

People aren’t the only ones who die. Ideas, dreams, past selves and identities can also come to an end and the loss that’s felt in their wake needs to be honored just the same as if they were significant people in our lives. A reason why the loss of these things can feel as strongly as losing a person is because our brains don’t know the difference between reality and dreams, between the present and our memories, so when we shed something internally the pain of the loss is still physical and very real. The only way to move on and into the new is through feeling the loss. 

I bring this all up because, unlike people in their corporeal bodies, opportunities can arise as we go about our lives that open the door to possibly making old dreams and goals a reality. How does one negotiate and begin to understand the reemergence of something once it’s already been let go? I suppose it really depends on if the thing itself was what needed to die or the context in which it was framed. The past few years, and this year in particular, have been incredibly intense and transformative for me. I went from living in NYC for over a decade, getting so close to fulfilling dreams that I’d had since I was a kid, to realizing those dreams (among other things) were contributing majorly to a decline in my health and the quality of my life. In my last two years of living in New York I came to the sobering conclusion that if I were to start living authentically and in alignment with myself I had to change my dreams and leave New York and all my projected future hopes, endeavors and life behind me. It took those two years for me to mourn, begin to realize and make space for other dreams and needs to enter my life and then I was able to actually commit to leaving The City. Two years of mourning a life path I had been on since the age of seven. As I reentered the world it was as an adult infant trying to figure out how to live in my body, my brain, my relationships and society in completely new ways. I was a wreck. During that period of grieving, I could barely listen to music because the sadness of no longer being on track to being the artist and producer I’d wanted to be for so long was too overwhelming. Thinking about all the time, all the years that I had dedicated to opening up doors and becoming a part of the music industry and community was acutely painful as I saw myself out. I stopped singing. My notes and books from conservatory and engineering school gathered dust. The only thing keeping me connected to music and audio at all were #tbt profiles on incredible producers, musicians, and artists I would write for Female Frequency.

I also found in that time that grieving is not all pain. A lot of the process also has to do with acknowledging and experiencing immense gratitude. My 29 and 30-year-old selves had to go back to 7-year-old Katie and thank her for being the dreamer, hard worker, and courageous human that she was. Because of her, I lived in one of the most famous and incredible cities in the world. I got to perform at historical establishments I never thought I would, like The Bitter End in The Village and The Apollo. I got to study and learn from Grammy-winning and multi-platinum selling engineers and producers at IAR. Even more importantly, I made some of my best friends there and have memories enough to last me many lifetimes. I got to have all of that because a seven year old wanted to submerge herself in song and create more music for the world. I will be forever in her debt because I would not be who I am without her guiding me in some integral way. It brought me comfort knowing that she’d probably be really stoked by everything I’ve done up until this point. Being grateful for her and the journey she took me on also made it easier to accept that it was ok that my needs at 30 are different than my needs at 7, and that the prioritization of those needs are more important than sticking to a particular path. 

Back to now. This past year, as I’ve been focusing more on writing I have also been, reluctantly and with much hesitation, rebuilding a structure for myself to get back into engineering and producing. It almost feels like I’m being haunted by a ghost and I’m not sure if it’s a friendly, “I’m just stuck here until you figure out what’s still tethering me to this earthly plane so you can do something about it and set me free” ghost or an evil “I’m here to reinforce the capitalist, work-til-you’re dead, go big or go home, scarcity mindset that you are currently failing at because I’m a dick and most likely a Baby Boomer” ghost. I’m sure it’s a bit of both. What I’m coming to realize is that, even though I initially let go of the idea of working in music, I still have those skills and that training and can use them as a means to support myself financially. Almost three years ago I needed to completely let it go to allow myself to get to that place because at the time and for all of my life up until that point, my career was EVERYTHING. Literally was my world. Everything else came second. Now I’m in a place where career stuff has less of hold on me (though I still really struggle with falling back on old habits and ways of thinking) and I can engage in it with more discernment and detachment and, more importantly, look at the narratives that were underneath and driving the work initially so I can better understand and heal them. Because those are things that actually haunt us. Not the work itself, the people or places. But the stories we tell ourselves about them. 

How will we go on without them? Life feels so dull and empty. I wish I told them how I felt. How do I fill this void? Will I ever be happy again? All valid questions and feelings and all with different answers for different people. For me, the answers have looked like reminding myself that I am whole and worthy just as I am. It’s not about what I do and achieve and being consumed by that that matters, but how I live. It matters how I speak to myself. It matters how I treat myself. Especially when I’m struggling and in all of my feelings. Living is hard, let’s not make it even harder on ourselves. Change and endings need to happen so we can stop holding ourselves back. Take your own hand, move through the pain, and let it go. 

Katie Louchheim is happy that she’s finally been able to rebirth and resurrect this blog and in the spirit of that would like to wish all a Shana Tova, Happy Mabon, a balanced Autumn Equinox, The spoopiest of Spoopy Seasons, and Joyful first weeks of the Descent. 

[seidipaddlaw-blog]

Rating dating agency

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Matchmaking In NYC Here at cracked have been dating agency.  These books just seem so short as I cannot put them down till I have finished them.  Marcos was not even too upset about it.  When his guard comes clean and tells him that he signed up for the paranormal dating site on Gray's behalf, he's not sure what to think.  Website safety EliteSingles manually checks each individual profile in order to guarantee everyone in the dating agency is serious about the search for love.  Our service is designed with long-term relationships in mind.  Her best friend talks her into asking for help when she needs a date This is the most amazing series you don't want to miss and to have it bundled makes it all the better Milly Taiden won Best seller on U.

International dating agency reviews The book helps singles figure out which agency is the best for their needs, as well as what questions they should ask matchmakers when they decide to go in for a consultation.  Tally is in a squeeze, finding herself without male companionship and expected to attend her cousin's wedding.  Love me some menage action, especially when it involves not one, but two hunky wolves wanting nothing more than to not only find, but please their curvy mate.  A note on the passion: It is hotter than the first two and had me hoping no one else on the corporate jet was reading over my shoulder ; Don't get me wrong though, I loved it! He still gets invited to events and now she has to face him at her cousin's wedding.  However, if you like domineering Alpha males on mouthy curvy girls, then this is right up your alley.

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[alexdmorgan30]

How I Came To "Believe” In Safe Injection Sites

So last night I’m at a town hall event on drug addiction and someone mentions safe injection sites in the audience. My heart begins to pound from having my hand up and hoping to get called on, so I can ask about this, among other topics.  The panel looks around at each other trying to see who will bite first, as it's clearly a controversial topic. Finally, the one “token recovery guy” speaks up, “You know, studies are positive, but people are very opposed to the idea, and the last time we had a discussion about it a fight nearly broke out.”And so, I wanted to get up. And I wanted to have that fight.  But I was taught to cease fighting anything and anyone. What about fighting substance use disorder? I thought my disease was doing pushups? Certainly, this disease is wreaking havoc across our country, especially with the younger generations, and what are we, as a community, prepared to do about it?  Who is fighting on the front lines? While communities claim “not in my backyard” absolution, so do the “anonymous people” who are in recovery in this country. They are told to have no opinion on outside issues. But, to me, this isn’t an outside issue, because the part of me that understands service is the backbone of my recovery, demands something other than pretending that there aren’t options available to people still suffering.  Thankfully, I have met many who are rank and file generals in this fight, however compared to the #’s we could have, it is disappointing, and makes creating change in our communities even more difficult.  Clearly, safe injection options are not a solution, but saying “he or she must not have wanted it enough” when they drop out of the only pathway we are offering, which for mainstream recovery is a 12-step program, is an even less valid answer.  12-step can be successful, alongside other treatment modalities, but it is often seen as “the” solution and not “a” solution.And what about statistics? Research shows that overdose rates decrease around the area of the safe injection site. If this statistic alone isn’t a good enough reason to support them how about that the rate of people who were entering treatment in those areas increased? Look, don’t get me wrong, I was once on the other side of this conversation. I had a lot of misguided beliefs before I entered recovery. I once thought when I was 16 and my drinking career had just begun, that if I could get my dad to give me driving lessons while I was drinking, I wouldn’t have a drinking and driving problem!Clearly being open-minded that my own thinking could be wrong is an important aspect of recovery, and so while I was made to think I should be open-minded about the program, I was indoctrinated to believe recovery was a static black-and-white thing, and that I was a miracle because I didn’t use, and while this may be true, it also underlined another assumption, that those who didn’t make it were not entitled to these miracles.  The idea that there is a level of participation required for someone to enter recovery is not lost on me, but the fact of the matter is, more and more people, especially those from the younger generations, are struggling to find their way in recovery and our answer to the staggering overdose and relapse rates is “they must not have been ready.”  So now what? What do we do with people who aren’t ready? Tell them to go out and give their substances another try? Drugs which could easily kill them in one shot? In my mind, if someone is not ready for abstinence-based recovery it isn’t that they have failed, it’s that they may not have reached that point yet, they may never reach that point, and who are we to say what that should look like.  There are many people who reach a significant “bottom,” only to find themselves using again. Can anyone say, who is honest with themselves, that a “bottom” is what creates recovery? Surely it can help, but there are many who hit that point and beyond, and for those people, while their lives continue to crumble around them, what is available?To me, this is why we need to offer as many solutions to this problem as we can. Not offering alternative methods like safe injection sites, or medically assisted treatment, is like saying to someone who has diabetes they can’t go to the hospital for support, or shouldn’t have to take insulin, they should just use their higher power, and if they can’t clearly, they don’t want to be healthy enough.Change is possible without necessarily being at a point of relying on grace only. While I believe in grace and have my own stance on faith, I believe this “coveted” winners circle of recovery is an issue and is not saving lives, especially amongst young people.Do I believe willingness is an important key to recovery? Certainly, yet how many of us become willing along our path of using? So why would we not want to create opportunities for the people who are using, to not only stay alive, but be near recovery support services?  When someone has a reoccurrence of use, do we no longer consider them in recovery? Therefore, by that logic, anyone who is in active use has the potential to effect this same change in their lives. Hospitals, fire houses, police stations, med express, anywhere, anytime someone wants out of the cycle, it should be as easy as getting a flu shot. It is that easy to get high or drunk.Finding drugs is way easier than finding recovery, unfortunately, we don’t seem to be making much headway on that stat. It shouldn’t be so difficult to get help, and yet it is. Clearly, we have quite a way to go, and so while we stand at the frontlines arguing for much-needed treatment options, housing options, peer support options for people in early recovery, we need to also keep our eye on how we can affect those who haven’t gotten to that point yet.    So, I didn’t get up and fight at the town hall meeting, because I know that the only way change will be affected is if compassion and reason win over misunderstanding and hatred. The only way we can win, and by we, I mean the parents who lost children to overdoses, and by we, I mean the advocates who mentor peers who end up overdosed in alley ways, and never make it home to their families, is if we can convince society that shaming people is not working and giving them opportunities for change are the best ideas we have currently.   I understand clearly that this option is seen as enabling to some. That we are encouraging people to use by providing needles and a safe place to go. The concept is not lost on me, but current models are not working. Prevention talks often fall on deaf ears, and while it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t continue to try to reach people, it does mean we need to get real about whether we are doing all we can do to help prevent overdose deaths in this country. If someone who is opposed has a better idea of how we can get the people in our communities, who are using illicit substances, out of the shadows and into the light where we can see them and help them, please by all means share it.  To me the big bad wolf in this situation is that we would have to admit as a community, that people in our community, have heroin problems. We don’t like to admit that, and unfortunately it's killing people.  I would argue that whatever motives you have for being opposed to this option, check them against the idea that centralizing use as best as possible helps to a.) measure your community and its needs, b.) provide safety and support to a vulnerable part of the population c.) encourage the next step for people to move on with their lives and d.) minimize the risk to police and health care workers responding to overdoses.  One of these reasons alone in my mind is enough to at least give it a try. Saving just one life means so much, especially if it is your child, your brother, your sister or your parent. Sharing this pain with too many people in too short of a time period is how I came to believe in safe Injection sites. Erik Beresnoy is a father, advocate, and a writer on topics that range from recovery, and spirituality to music and philosophy.  Erik has been an active member of the recovery movement since 2008, when he himself entered recovery, and began to not only repair his life but to also seek help repair his community by working to implement new strategies. His current projects include Empowerment Coaching for the Ammon Foundation, and implementing a transformational program in NYC called Dare to Dream for Synergy Education. He is a certified recovery coach as well as a board member for Rockland Recovery Homes. His other works can be viewed at soberspiritmeditation.com.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 http://bit.ly/2Dc0qgz

[emlydunstan]

How I Came To "Believe” In Safe Injection Sites

So last night I’m at a town hall event on drug addiction and someone mentions safe injection sites in the audience. My heart begins to pound from having my hand up and hoping to get called on, so I can ask about this, among other topics.  The panel looks around at each other trying to see who will bite first, as it's clearly a controversial topic. Finally, the one “token recovery guy” speaks up, “You know, studies are positive, but people are very opposed to the idea, and the last time we had a discussion about it a fight nearly broke out.”And so, I wanted to get up. And I wanted to have that fight.  But I was taught to cease fighting anything and anyone. What about fighting substance use disorder? I thought my disease was doing pushups? Certainly, this disease is wreaking havoc across our country, especially with the younger generations, and what are we, as a community, prepared to do about it?  Who is fighting on the front lines? While communities claim “not in my backyard” absolution, so do the “anonymous people” who are in recovery in this country. They are told to have no opinion on outside issues. But, to me, this isn’t an outside issue, because the part of me that understands service is the backbone of my recovery, demands something other than pretending that there aren’t options available to people still suffering.  Thankfully, I have met many who are rank and file generals in this fight, however compared to the #’s we could have, it is disappointing, and makes creating change in our communities even more difficult.  Clearly, safe injection options are not a solution, but saying “he or she must not have wanted it enough” when they drop out of the only pathway we are offering, which for mainstream recovery is a 12-step program, is an even less valid answer.  12-step can be successful, alongside other treatment modalities, but it is often seen as “the” solution and not “a” solution.And what about statistics? Research shows that overdose rates decrease around the area of the safe injection site. If this statistic alone isn’t a good enough reason to support them how about that the rate of people who were entering treatment in those areas increased? Look, don’t get me wrong, I was once on the other side of this conversation. I had a lot of misguided beliefs before I entered recovery. I once thought when I was 16 and my drinking career had just begun, that if I could get my dad to give me driving lessons while I was drinking, I wouldn’t have a drinking and driving problem!Clearly being open-minded that my own thinking could be wrong is an important aspect of recovery, and so while I was made to think I should be open-minded about the program, I was indoctrinated to believe recovery was a static black-and-white thing, and that I was a miracle because I didn’t use, and while this may be true, it also underlined another assumption, that those who didn’t make it were not entitled to these miracles.  The idea that there is a level of participation required for someone to enter recovery is not lost on me, but the fact of the matter is, more and more people, especially those from the younger generations, are struggling to find their way in recovery and our answer to the staggering overdose and relapse rates is “they must not have been ready.”  So now what? What do we do with people who aren’t ready? Tell them to go out and give their substances another try? Drugs which could easily kill them in one shot? In my mind, if someone is not ready for abstinence-based recovery it isn’t that they have failed, it’s that they may not have reached that point yet, they may never reach that point, and who are we to say what that should look like.  There are many people who reach a significant “bottom,” only to find themselves using again. Can anyone say, who is honest with themselves, that a “bottom” is what creates recovery? Surely it can help, but there are many who hit that point and beyond, and for those people, while their lives continue to crumble around them, what is available?To me, this is why we need to offer as many solutions to this problem as we can. Not offering alternative methods like safe injection sites, or medically assisted treatment, is like saying to someone who has diabetes they can’t go to the hospital for support, or shouldn’t have to take insulin, they should just use their higher power, and if they can’t clearly, they don’t want to be healthy enough.Change is possible without necessarily being at a point of relying on grace only. While I believe in grace and have my own stance on faith, I believe this “coveted” winners circle of recovery is an issue and is not saving lives, especially amongst young people.Do I believe willingness is an important key to recovery? Certainly, yet how many of us become willing along our path of using? So why would we not want to create opportunities for the people who are using, to not only stay alive, but be near recovery support services?  When someone has a reoccurrence of use, do we no longer consider them in recovery? Therefore, by that logic, anyone who is in active use has the potential to effect this same change in their lives. Hospitals, fire houses, police stations, med express, anywhere, anytime someone wants out of the cycle, it should be as easy as getting a flu shot. It is that easy to get high or drunk.Finding drugs is way easier than finding recovery, unfortunately, we don’t seem to be making much headway on that stat. It shouldn’t be so difficult to get help, and yet it is. Clearly, we have quite a way to go, and so while we stand at the frontlines arguing for much-needed treatment options, housing options, peer support options for people in early recovery, we need to also keep our eye on how we can affect those who haven’t gotten to that point yet.    So, I didn’t get up and fight at the town hall meeting, because I know that the only way change will be affected is if compassion and reason win over misunderstanding and hatred. The only way we can win, and by we, I mean the parents who lost children to overdoses, and by we, I mean the advocates who mentor peers who end up overdosed in alley ways, and never make it home to their families, is if we can convince society that shaming people is not working and giving them opportunities for change are the best ideas we have currently.   I understand clearly that this option is seen as enabling to some. That we are encouraging people to use by providing needles and a safe place to go. The concept is not lost on me, but current models are not working. Prevention talks often fall on deaf ears, and while it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t continue to try to reach people, it does mean we need to get real about whether we are doing all we can do to help prevent overdose deaths in this country. If someone who is opposed has a better idea of how we can get the people in our communities, who are using illicit substances, out of the shadows and into the light where we can see them and help them, please by all means share it.  To me the big bad wolf in this situation is that we would have to admit as a community, that people in our community, have heroin problems. We don’t like to admit that, and unfortunately it's killing people.  I would argue that whatever motives you have for being opposed to this option, check them against the idea that centralizing use as best as possible helps to a.) measure your community and its needs, b.) provide safety and support to a vulnerable part of the population c.) encourage the next step for people to move on with their lives and d.) minimize the risk to police and health care workers responding to overdoses.  One of these reasons alone in my mind is enough to at least give it a try. Saving just one life means so much, especially if it is your child, your brother, your sister or your parent. Sharing this pain with too many people in too short of a time period is how I came to believe in safe Injection sites. Erik Beresnoy is a father, advocate, and a writer on topics that range from recovery, and spirituality to music and philosophy.  Erik has been an active member of the recovery movement since 2008, when he himself entered recovery, and began to not only repair his life but to also seek help repair his community by working to implement new strategies. His current projects include Empowerment Coaching for the Ammon Foundation, and implementing a transformational program in NYC called Dare to Dream for Synergy Education. He is a certified recovery coach as well as a board member for Rockland Recovery Homes. His other works can be viewed at soberspiritmeditation.com.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8241841 https://www.thefix.com/how-i-came-believe-safe-injection-sites

[pitz182]

How I Came To "Believe” In Safe Injection Sites

So last night I’m at a town hall event on drug addiction and someone mentions safe injection sites in the audience. My heart begins to pound from having my hand up and hoping to get called on, so I can ask about this, among other topics.  The panel looks around at each other trying to see who will bite first, as it's clearly a controversial topic. Finally, the one “token recovery guy” speaks up, “You know, studies are positive, but people are very opposed to the idea, and the last time we had a discussion about it a fight nearly broke out.”And so, I wanted to get up. And I wanted to have that fight.  But I was taught to cease fighting anything and anyone. What about fighting substance use disorder? I thought my disease was doing pushups? Certainly, this disease is wreaking havoc across our country, especially with the younger generations, and what are we, as a community, prepared to do about it?  Who is fighting on the front lines? While communities claim “not in my backyard” absolution, so do the “anonymous people” who are in recovery in this country. They are told to have no opinion on outside issues. But, to me, this isn’t an outside issue, because the part of me that understands service is the backbone of my recovery, demands something other than pretending that there aren’t options available to people still suffering.  Thankfully, I have met many who are rank and file generals in this fight, however compared to the #’s we could have, it is disappointing, and makes creating change in our communities even more difficult.  Clearly, safe injection options are not a solution, but saying “he or she must not have wanted it enough” when they drop out of the only pathway we are offering, which for mainstream recovery is a 12-step program, is an even less valid answer.  12-step can be successful, alongside other treatment modalities, but it is often seen as “the” solution and not “a” solution.And what about statistics? Research shows that overdose rates decrease around the area of the safe injection site. If this statistic alone isn’t a good enough reason to support them how about that the rate of people who were entering treatment in those areas increased? Look, don’t get me wrong, I was once on the other side of this conversation. I had a lot of misguided beliefs before I entered recovery. I once thought when I was 16 and my drinking career had just begun, that if I could get my dad to give me driving lessons while I was drinking, I wouldn’t have a drinking and driving problem!Clearly being open-minded that my own thinking could be wrong is an important aspect of recovery, and so while I was made to think I should be open-minded about the program, I was indoctrinated to believe recovery was a static black-and-white thing, and that I was a miracle because I didn’t use, and while this may be true, it also underlined another assumption, that those who didn’t make it were not entitled to these miracles.  The idea that there is a level of participation required for someone to enter recovery is not lost on me, but the fact of the matter is, more and more people, especially those from the younger generations, are struggling to find their way in recovery and our answer to the staggering overdose and relapse rates is “they must not have been ready.”  So now what? What do we do with people who aren’t ready? Tell them to go out and give their substances another try? Drugs which could easily kill them in one shot? In my mind, if someone is not ready for abstinence-based recovery it isn’t that they have failed, it’s that they may not have reached that point yet, they may never reach that point, and who are we to say what that should look like.  There are many people who reach a significant “bottom,” only to find themselves using again. Can anyone say, who is honest with themselves, that a “bottom” is what creates recovery? Surely it can help, but there are many who hit that point and beyond, and for those people, while their lives continue to crumble around them, what is available?To me, this is why we need to offer as many solutions to this problem as we can. Not offering alternative methods like safe injection sites, or medically assisted treatment, is like saying to someone who has diabetes they can’t go to the hospital for support, or shouldn’t have to take insulin, they should just use their higher power, and if they can’t clearly, they don’t want to be healthy enough.Change is possible without necessarily being at a point of relying on grace only. While I believe in grace and have my own stance on faith, I believe this “coveted” winners circle of recovery is an issue and is not saving lives, especially amongst young people.Do I believe willingness is an important key to recovery? Certainly, yet how many of us become willing along our path of using? So why would we not want to create opportunities for the people who are using, to not only stay alive, but be near recovery support services?  When someone has a reoccurrence of use, do we no longer consider them in recovery? Therefore, by that logic, anyone who is in active use has the potential to effect this same change in their lives. Hospitals, fire houses, police stations, med express, anywhere, anytime someone wants out of the cycle, it should be as easy as getting a flu shot. It is that easy to get high or drunk.Finding drugs is way easier than finding recovery, unfortunately, we don’t seem to be making much headway on that stat. It shouldn’t be so difficult to get help, and yet it is. Clearly, we have quite a way to go, and so while we stand at the frontlines arguing for much-needed treatment options, housing options, peer support options for people in early recovery, we need to also keep our eye on how we can affect those who haven’t gotten to that point yet.    So, I didn’t get up and fight at the town hall meeting, because I know that the only way change will be affected is if compassion and reason win over misunderstanding and hatred. The only way we can win, and by we, I mean the parents who lost children to overdoses, and by we, I mean the advocates who mentor peers who end up overdosed in alley ways, and never make it home to their families, is if we can convince society that shaming people is not working and giving them opportunities for change are the best ideas we have currently.   I understand clearly that this option is seen as enabling to some. That we are encouraging people to use by providing needles and a safe place to go. The concept is not lost on me, but current models are not working. Prevention talks often fall on deaf ears, and while it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t continue to try to reach people, it does mean we need to get real about whether we are doing all we can do to help prevent overdose deaths in this country. If someone who is opposed has a better idea of how we can get the people in our communities, who are using illicit substances, out of the shadows and into the light where we can see them and help them, please by all means share it.  To me the big bad wolf in this situation is that we would have to admit as a community, that people in our community, have heroin problems. We don’t like to admit that, and unfortunately it's killing people.  I would argue that whatever motives you have for being opposed to this option, check them against the idea that centralizing use as best as possible helps to a.) measure your community and its needs, b.) provide safety and support to a vulnerable part of the population c.) encourage the next step for people to move on with their lives and d.) minimize the risk to police and health care workers responding to overdoses.  One of these reasons alone in my mind is enough to at least give it a try. Saving just one life means so much, especially if it is your child, your brother, your sister or your parent. Sharing this pain with too many people in too short of a time period is how I came to believe in safe Injection sites. Erik Beresnoy is a father, advocate, and a writer on topics that range from recovery, and spirituality to music and philosophy.  Erik has been an active member of the recovery movement since 2008, when he himself entered recovery, and began to not only repair his life but to also seek help repair his community by working to implement new strategies. His current projects include Empowerment Coaching for the Ammon Foundation, and implementing a transformational program in NYC called Dare to Dream for Synergy Education. He is a certified recovery coach as well as a board member for Rockland Recovery Homes. His other works can be viewed at soberspiritmeditation.com.