#between forcing myself back out there and getting back into therapy last year.. holy mother of fuck have i seen the difference..

[foreverxdaydreaming]

if you know any of these, i respect you and your taste dearly... but also, how hard is that nostalgia hitting you rn? pretty bittersweet, eh?

[jbuffyangel]

The Bermuda Triangle: Arrow 1x13 Review (Betrayal)

Time to deal with this love triangle and all the ways it is awful.

Let’s dig in...

L*uriver vs. Merlance

I frequently say to myself as I rewatch Season 1 that the triangle makes sense in theory. The writers have all the components, albeit clichéd, that should create a love triangle full of juicy drama.

Man wrongs woman in another life thereby destroying any future together

Woman falls for secret identity without realizing it is the same man who hurt her

Man “gives up” woman for her own good 

Man and best friend are in love with the same woman

Best friend changes his ways and becomes the perfect boyfriend

Woman no longer wants best friend and instead lusts for secret identity bad boy

And round and round we go. The problem is this doesn’t really tread any new ground. How many times have we seen this type of love triangle play out? MANY TIMES. Not saying a tried and true trope can’t be repeated, but if you’re going to use it then try to inject some new life into it. 

Arrow stays stubbornly in between the lines on this one, which means there are no real surprises. We know exactly where this is headed. Everyone is just waiting for L*urel to choose Oliver. Hell, even Tommy knows it is coming someday.

This brings us to our second problem. L*urel choosing Oliver is so inevitable it doesn’t require a lot of character growth for either of them. L*urel and Oliver have not dealt with ANY of the issues that caused their demise. Yes, Oliver cheated on L*urel, but there were reasons why he cheated. Those have yet to be discussed. 

We’re supposed to accept that since Oliver is wearing the hood and is out saving the streets as the vigilante then he is “worthy” of L*urel again. We’re supposed to be waiting with baited breath for L*urel to discover Oliver’s secret identity, realize he’s the man in the hood she’s been lusting after, and fall back into his arms where she belongs.

I think not. Don’t get me wrong. I love me a good triangle. I loved The Vampire Diaries. Two brothers in love with the same woman. Interesting. Woman looks exactly like the lost love that destroyed their bond a hundred years earlier? MORE INTERESTING. And kinky. 

I enjoy exploring the varying ways love is expressed in different relationships and what it can reveal about the characters. There isn’t always a right or wrong choice. There’s just a choice and it reflects the kind of love you need to live.

But I understand the complaints about love triangles. Oliver, L*urel and Tommy are the PERFECT validation of those complaints. It’s a tired way to insert some drama that has a completely predictable ending. The even bigger problem is there’s barely enough heat to melt an ice cube. L*uriver is frigid. Merlance is better, but they certainly aren’t an inferno.

“Betrayal” does an excellent job of highlighting all the love triangle problems which plague Season 1. We’re all waiting for L*urel to see that Oliver is a changed man. If only she knew he was The Hood! Her anger and hurt over Sara blinds her ability to see those changes. He needs to wear the mask, so L*urel can see who Oliver truly is. God that sounds good doesn’t it?

 IT’S NOT GOOD.

Sara was a symptom of much bigger problems between L*urel and Oliver. He did not want to be with L*urel, so he blew their relationship up in a fairly spectacular display of self sabotage.

Why doesn’t Oliver want to be with L*urel? Well... welcome to Oliver’s mind. He’s been asking himself that same question for the last five years. If he wanted to be with L*urel then he would have never left town. He would have never cheated on her with Sara. Then Sara would be alive. His father would be alive. EVERY ounce of guilt Oliver Queen carries is connected to that one single choice of leaving L*urel.

So, it’s fairly easy to understand why Oliver thinks being with L*urel will fix everything. If he can fix things with L*urel then he’s truly forgiven. It washes away the sins of the past. It’s like it never happened. At this point, this is what Oliver wants more than ANYTHING. He can’t bring Sara or Robert back. But he can resuscitate his dead relationship with his ex-girlfriend. Close enough. The man isn’t choosey after five years of misery.

Unfortunately, Oliver hasn’t changed at all when it comes to L*urel Lance. Oh I know BUT THE HOOD. Listen y’all, throwing on leather accessories and playing Robin Hood doesn’t equate to relationship therapy. Sorry writers. I need more than crime fighting to believe Oliver can be the perfect boyfriend now.

He continues to make all the same mistakes. OLIVER IS STILL LYING TO L*UREL. He lies to her every day.  He lies when he’s wearing the hood. He lies when he’s not wearing the hood. LIES LIES LIES LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIESS. Oliver continues to hide who he truly is from L*urel. Different outfit. Same problems.

This brings us to SO. MUCH. MISOGYN. Lance is using the phone The Hood gave L*urel to trap him. Whenever we are looking at betrayal and the Lance family it’s important to grade on a curve. It’s a dirty move on Quentin’s part, but far from the gold medal of betrayals this family achieves.

Source: @laurelsource

Everyone finds out that L*urel is working with the Hood and by everyone I mean Tommy. Quentin follows L*urel with a battalion of police officers to her meeting with The Hood. He’s gathered information on a newly released crime boss, Cyrus Vanch. When Oliver realizes they’ve been busted he holds L*urel by the throat as cover so he can jump off the roof. BuT tHeIr LoVe Is iS hEaLtHy.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource

As L*urel rants to her current boyfriend (yes I use the word “current” on purpose), he pieces together that she’s been lying to him about working with The Hood.

Source: THEARROWGIFS:

L*urel: He's been lying to me for weeks.

Tommy: Yeah feels like crap doesn't it?

Are we surprised L*urel fails to see the hypocrisy in her little rant?

We are not. This is why Tommy was always the better man for L*urel. He actually had a pair and would call her on her BS. Oliver was incapable of doing until well into Season 2, but I digress.

So, Tommy goes to his best friend Oliver for relationship advice. I know this is a television show, but why in the ever living mother of Zeus do L*urel and Tommy think OLIVER is the best person to ask for relationship advice?

Oliver: Tommy, every time you want to talk to me about something, and that something is L*urel, you look like you’re about to tell me you have some terminal disease.

Me: He does have a terminal disease. It’s called L*URIVER.

Tommy: She’s been working with The Hood guy.

Oliver: What? You’re letting her work with that crazy person? She could get hurt Tommy.

Tommy: I’m not letting her do anything. I only just found out about it.

I know this episode aired in 2012, but talk about some patriarchal bullshit. The entire episode is filled with language like this. Quentin, Oliver, Tommy and The Hood all act like L*urel needs their permission to go to the bathroom. New flash fellas: If L*urel wants to engage in nightly rendezvous with a serial killer that’s her business.

L*urel says something to similar effect, but is summarily blown off by whatever male she’s speaking to. She meets up with The Hood after he and Lance save her from Cyrus Vanch.  

Source: BJ-HUNNICUTTS-BLOG 

It seems The Hood didn’t think through all the ways talking to L*urel on a phone and meeting her secretly on rooftops would put her in danger.

Source: BJ-HUNNICUTTS-BLOG

L*urel: I knew the risks.

The Hood: Now I know them and I’m not willing to take them with you.

L*urel: What does that mean?

It means he wants to bone you, L*urel. Get a clue. 

Holy hell, these conversations make her look stupid. L*urel, do you know a lot of six foot men with similar build and facial hair to Oliver Queen? 

Maybe she would take issue with his infantilizing if she stopped speaking like a three year old whenever The Hood is around. 

Source: LAURELSOURCE

She has this dazed expression too. I know L*urel is so overwhelmed with all the ATTRACTION and LUST that her eyes dilate and the bosom heaves, but I’m starting to think a taser gun is how they forced Katie do scenes with Stephen.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

The point is nobody is all that interested in L*urel’s agency – INCLUDING L*UREL. I understand “secret identity” is a very common trope in hero’s stories, but it never makes any sense to me. Shouldn’t the “true love” be the first person to know who the hero is and not the last? Oliver keeps saying he can’t tell the people he loves who he truly is because it will put them in danger. So, he doesn’t care if Diggle gets killed? His logic makes no sense.  If this was truly about protecting people then why did he need a partner?

And no – you can’t use John can protect himself. We just watched L*urel throw down with that umbrella. She was lethal. 

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

Oliver is the king of compartmentalization. He does not know how to merge his two selves yet. He cannot fathom showing Thea, Moira, Tommy and L*urel his darkest self because that means being honest about what happened the five years he was away and what it did to him. That will be a hard pass from our leather clad hero.

My other issue with the love triangle (in addition to all the lying and misogyny) is Oliver comes off like an asshole. He manipulates Tommy with statements like, "L*urel is lying? That doesn't seem like her” and “ have an honest chat with her” like there is something in their relationship causing her to lie or that Tommy is responsible for L*urel’s behavior. He’s slowly pecking away at the Merlance walls until it crumbles. DIRTY POKER OLIVER QUEEN.

But then we arrive at this gross fest:

Tommy: There’s some sort of infatuation thing going on here. We both know that she has a pretty strong track record of being attracted to guys who are dangerous, who break the rules. Show me a more dangerous rule breaker than The Hood.

Oliver: I just think you need to have an honest chat with her. Find out the real reason she’s keep secrets.

Tommy: I just can’t believe that L*urel of all people would lie to my face. I guess that’s the way it is with the people you are closest to.

Oliver: I know, but talk to her anyway. And fix this before it becomes something that’s unfixable.

Did this conversation actually happen?

Does anyone else find it weird that Tommy and Oliver psychoanalyze L*urel’s dating preferences? 

And even weirder they are ACCURATE? 

Credit where credit is due. L*urel likes bad boys right up until they become good boys. Then she’s off to find the next asshole that will lie, cheat and disappoint her. (We could do an entire novel’s worth of L*urel Lance’s toxic dating choices).

Even worse, Tommy concludes she has the hots for The Hood like it’s nothing. Like it’s completely normal and okay behavior. 

Holy hell man! Tommy, maybe L*urel has beaten any self respect into the ground, but IT’S OK TO EXPECT YOUR GIRLFRIEND TO NOT BE INFATUATED WITH OTHER MEN.

What’s really gross is Oliver lies straight to Tommy’s face (no differently than L*urel did) while using the secret identity to engage in inappropriate flirting with his best friend’s girlfriend. He uses the hood to say things to L*urel that he would NEVER say as Oliver Queen. And L*urel never tells The Hood she has a boyfriend or to back off. In fact, she encourages the behavior. THIS. IS. CHEATING. Maybe not physical, but it sure is emotional.

Let’s also never forget L*urel started sleeping with Tommy as a way to stick it to Oliver. She wasn’t expecting to develop real feelings for Tommy, and I do believe she loves him, but that doesn’t erase the toxicity of this cycle that somebody needs to end.

There’s just no good here, my friends. 

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

The writers are relying on an empty “they are supposed to be together” promise without providing any evidence why. Neither L*urel nor Oliver has changed in a meaningful way to support giving their relationship another try. The problem between them wasn’t whether or not Oliver fought street crime. The problem was honesty. Between all the lying and just-on-the-line cheating, I’d argue they bring out the worst in each other. Nuclear winter has better chemistry. Need I go on?

Ok. I will.

The only one who has shown any growth is Tommy. This is change L*urel encouraged in Tommy, but then he became dependable and honest, so she started lusting after The Hood. Both Oliver and L*urel are lying to him about a variety of things. With friends like these who needs enemies? 

L*urel is treated like some prize, but is she a prize they really want to win? Neither man is given a reason to love L*urel beyond she’s who they are supposed to want.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

Don’t get me wrong. I am a Merlance shipper, but it is hard to root for their ship at this point. If the writers just left them alone and let them be adorable then it would be fine.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

BUT. THEY. KEEP. INSERTING. OLIVER.

And where is L*urel’s character? We’re thirteen episodes in and she’s too busy flip flopping personalities for me to nail her down to one specifically. For arguments sake, let’s say the hot and cold behavior IS one of her main traits. It only surfaces in relation to Oliver. L*urel flips on him which causes her to flop on Tommy. L*urel’s actions are simply a reaction to Oliver.  That’s not agency. That’s a prop.

Source: @dinahlaurellancesource 

It’s almost like the writers can’t be bothered with more. She’s a justice seeking, self sacrificing attorney who works pro bono. TA DA! Character is complete. Nothing more to see here! 

Well, if that’s the criteria then why isn’t Joanna in the running for hero’s true love? Throw Annie Ilonzeh in a room with Stephen Amell. Let’s see if the chemistry is any better.

The writers haven’t constructed L*urel’s character beyond a hockey puck for Tommy and Oliver to pass to each other until we reach the inevitable conclusion of L*urel “choosing” Oliver. It’s like watching a train speed toward a brick wall. I know the crash is coming, but I’m not apprehensive about it or grotesquely fascinated or even scared. I’m just want out of this Bermuda Triangle.

Quentin and L*urel

The only real interesting facet of L*urel’s character is her relationship with her father. I love the raw pain between them. It is always just under the surface. The writers throw those problems like grenades in their scenes together. Katie isn’t given much to work with, but her best material is always with Paul Blackthorne.

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

Quentin using his daughter as bait was brilliant, but shadey. Super shadey. It also had the unintended consequence of getting her kidnapped by a mob boss. Oops. I sort of love that Quentin had to eat crow and call The Hood for help once he figured out there was a dirty cop feeding Vance information.

L*urel is in a rage after being held hostage by The Hood. (He can use her as a human shield because he loves her. No problems here. Nope nope nope!) Quentin really hoped L*urel would appreciate his fine detective work, but she’s pretty pissed off about all the guns pointed at her. She feels her father has lost his perspective on this particular case.

L*urel: Are you gonna find another criminal? Someone else to blame for mom leaving, for Sara dying, for your drinking?

The gloves come off! Daaaaaamn. The booze? We’re going there? Meow.

I agree Quentin Lance has an addictive personality. He directs his rage and grief into an outlet he can control. Hmm… who else does that?

However, L*urel’s indignation is a little much. She is cavorting with a known criminal. The same criminal her father is investigating. L*urel does nothing to help the investigation and one could argue she impedes the investigation. This is called obstruction of justice, Counselor. L*urel actually commissioned the crime The Hood is perpetrating this week, so she could also be charged as an accessory after the fact. Maybe even aiding and abetting. So, her horror at the police pointing guns at her is somewhat ludicrous. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

L*urel spends much of the episode fighting the rampant patriarchy and misogyny of the men around her by firmly accepting the danger of working with the vigilante.  She is prepared to take those risks. 

Source: LAURELSOURCE 

But then L*urel is appalled the second she’s put in any danger and holds all the men responsible for not keeping her safe.

She can be mad her dad lied to her, but stop clutching the pearls. If L*urel wants to play the vigilante game then she is going to be used as bait and occasionally get kidnapped. That’s what everyone means by danger, girl. You’re either in or you’re out. If you’re in then you don’t get to blame anyone else for danger knocking on your door. Own your choices honey. THY NAME IS AGENCY.

Oliver and Diggle

This is week 323 of Diggle arguing that Moira is guilty as sin and Oliver ignoring the massive pile of evidence supporting that belief. 

Ok, it hasn’t been that many weeks, but it feels like it. Thou Shall Not Question Diggle. He is always right, but Oliver digs his stubborn heels in. So, John offers to drive Moira around for a week and bugs her. As one does.

Oliver: You bugged my mother?

This is how OTA shows their love, Oliver.  Diggle knows Moira is a slippery snake and can wiggle out of any question Oliver asks her. She even burns the copy of the List Felicity gave him after Oliver confronts her with it.  

Moira insists she never associated with the people in Robert’s book and knew it only as a list of people who owed him favors. Oliver believes his mother is trying to protect her children from Walter’s fate.

So, John gets Moira ON TAPE discussing The Undertaking with Malcolm Merlyn and the sabotage of Robert Queen’s boat. 

We’re going to ignore that Moira’s voice is perfectly identifiable, but Merlyn’s is about ten octaves lower. The point is these are information diamonds Diggle unearths and Oliver FINALLY agrees to pay his mother a visit as The Hood.

Flashbacks

The best part of the flashbacks is meeting all the people who helped Oliver Queen become The Hood. 

Source: @olivergifs​

Hello Slade Wilson! He’s a massively important character in Arrow and it is fun to rewatch how he came into Oliver’s life.

Slade and his partner, the man who tortured Oliver, are Australian Intelligence who came to Lian Yu to free Yao Fei. Slade and Yao Fei have been monitoring an air field so they can escape the island, but he cannot take it alone. There is always a reason behind all of Yao Fei’s actions, but it takes Slade a minute to figure out why he sent Oliver.

Slade: You have no skill. No strength. No training. To say you fight like a girl would be a compliment.

I’m equally indignant and amused by that line. Slade doesn’t believe Oliver will be any help to him because well… he met him. If Oliver is ever captured again he could reveal Slade’s location.  So, he decides to behead Oliver. It’s the nice thing to do. It won’t hurt a bit. What can I say guys? It’s Lian Yu! These are how the memories are made.

Oliver dislocates his shoulder and punches Slade in a vain attempt to defend himself. Yao Fei may be a softer judge of character, but he’s not wrong about Oliver’s survival instinct. Slade sees the fight in Oliver’s eyes and finally understands why Yao Fei sent him. They need Oliver to survive as much as he needs them. He might not be much to look at now, but Slade Wilson is just the man to harness Oliver’s will and turn him into the fighter they all need him to become.

Stray Thoughts

David Anders is like my personal Kevin Bacon. He's in everything I watch. #Arrow #TVD #Alias #OUAT

I was never all that jazzed when L*urel was the damsel in distress and I love that crap. Another clue I didn't ship it. Source:  LAURELSOURCE

Do people on this show not realize you can’t touch evidence? JFC.

Twenty four arrows in the quiver. Good to know.

“It doesn’t mean I have to read the bastard his rights though.” IF YOU WANT THE CHARGES TO STICK YOU DO.

I am so confused on what type of law L*urel practices. Her firm works for a victim’s advocacy group, but she also prosecutes criminal cases. This feels like a radiologist performing heart surgery.

KC is just really bad at action scenes. It's always so awkward.

Musings of the Kiddo

Kiddo: Does he ever run out of arrows?

Me: He has extra in the car.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

[wily-one24]

I hope there's not a question limit per ask lol... Paint it Black: 3, 4, 5, 11, 12, 14 and 15 (or as many of those as you feel like answering lol)

Okay, two things.

A. Of *course* there’s no ask limit. I am an attention whore and will talk all day if you encourage me. Ask away!!

B. WTF tumblr? When I reposted that, it was a paragraph basically saying “ask about my fic!”, but now there are NUMBERED QUESTIONS? What? Where was the second half of that post when I came across it in my dash? 

ANSWERS

3. What’s your favourite line of narration?

Oh geez. How the hell am I going to answer that? I have favourite lines per chapter, I have favourite lines per scene! Each part I’m reading at any given moment happens to be my favourite. Every time I reread it, I find something new... and... maybe I suck for saying this... but I think “you’re a fucking genius”, then I get all sad, because I think that was probably one of the last great things I’ll write. I’ve been going downhill ever since... but anyways, to seriously answer your question, I’ll give a few examples... 

 - That face off scene between Regina and Snow, where Snow claims her father was a good man and Regina answers “To you!”, the entire scene is charged and emotional and brings up so much shit between them that was never explored in canon. 

- The flashback of Emma’s tenth birthday (technically collectively, all of the flashbacks, really. They’re angsty as fuck, but so formative in their characterisation that sometimes I forget they’re not actually canon). I have this habit of tearing Emma down to her bare bones and then trying to build her up again. I actually do this with most of my main female characters, and I do apologise for that Buffy, Kaylee, Veronica, Emma, and Alex. You all deserve so much better than me. 

- The scene where Regina is alone in the castle and revisits the old chamber of Leopold’s. It’s hard to read but that is some weird little cathartic release right there. There is some great imagery that I don’t think many people allow Regina when it comes to her healing. Everybody tends to go the “being married to Leopold was a BAD THING” route, without ever really exploring the day to day soul destroying aspect of it. The reality of being the King’s prisoner wife. But giving her the ability and strength to revisit it, so she can finally acknowledge to herself how damaging it was, to close herself off from it both literally and figuratively, and then to be self aware enough to compare that situation to the one she has Emma in. That is empowerment. 

- The parallel scenes of Emma and Henry at the start and the end of the fic. The first being when Henry is so adamant to rescue Emma and curse everyone again just to take them back... and the last where you can see how much indoctrinated he is into the fairy tale land, how much he is drifting from “our world” being the real one, to the fairy tale land being his reality, and how his morality has shifted... but then... he also brings it back by getting vulnerable and shows his concern not just for Emma but for Regina... which also shows great advancement from the child like black/white morality of good vs evil he begins with to an acceptance of a more adult grey-area morality, his willingness to examine the facts and the truth to make up his mind. 

All the minor characters... Nancy (sweet, voiced Nancy), and Miss Edith (poor Miss Edith), Rachel, all the little characters that had such minor parts, but had such great effects in the lives of our main characters. 

Oooh, writing Rumple was fun. I got to write him as nobody really does. As that creepy reptilian imp from the first few flashbacks in S1. Before they really woobified him. The hysteric giggling, maniacal creature who smelled the air and exuded pure malice. It was really enjoyable writing him like that. 

Well, this went terribly off topic... anyway, yes, flashback scenes and confrontation scenes, be they between Snow and Regina, Emma and Regina, Regina and Maleficent, Emma and Snow, Emma and Henry... it’s in emotion that the true power of the fic lives. 

4. What’s your favourite line of dialogue?

oh, this is harder than the first. It would take me ages to reread this fic (and now I most likely am, thanks) to really go through it and cherry pick my favourites. But, if a line has happened to truly hit home and resonate with you as a reader, it most likely did the same for me. I remember quite a few times writing this fic, thinking “holy fuck!” and knowing, just knowing, that it was definitely the line to write. 

5. What part was the hardest to write?

The first two chapters. Up until the pivotal moment where Regina heals Emma, those were difficult to write and definitely difficult to read. I’ve had many readers tell me they were about to give up, bc it was too much torture porn to enjoy, but that moment specifically was a turning point for them because it built up the trust that I could and would reign Regina in beyond the point of no forgiveness or return. 

11. What do you like best about this fic?

I liked writing it. 

It took me to some pretty intense places. Fic writing, for me, has always been a form of therapy. I work through to some pretty intense fucking emotions through the angst of it all. Like, no, I have never been magically transported to a fairy tale land, collared, enslaved, and held against my will for the sake of my family and community’s lives... but if you look deeper in my life at the time, I had just been through a pretty horrific pregnancy that nearly killed me, my spouse and I separated, and I was left ill, recovering, and a single mother of a toddler and infant. I felt like I was being ripped apart from all angles, forced into a live of servitude for the betterment of everyone around me at the cost of myself. Even, though, like Emma, I didn’t blame them, it was still a period of mourning and loss.

I didn’t realise it at the time. This revelation happened years later when rereading the fic and trying to see where all the emotions had been coming from. It happens a lot with some of my more intense, dramatic, and (strangely enough) most popular fics. I don’t always see the correlation to my life at the time, but if I look back I can generally trace the rationality behind what my muse was trying to work through. 

12. What do you like least about this fic?

The polarisation. The controversy. That fucking chapter fucking four. I still cannot reread that chapter without having to take a step back and breathe. That scene has some good imagery, but even now sometimes I just skip it. It’s not worth the shakes or unease or... ugh, just thinking about it upsets me. 

I made a mistake in the tagging and I learned from it, but holy fuck was I attacked at the time and used as a sacrifical cow to the radfems. It was, honestly, surprising to me. Not only the reaction, but the harshness of it, all the accusation and personal attacks aimed at me.  

I mean, I knew the fic was always going to be confronting to some. It dealt with some pretty hard issues and subject matter. I had warned for all the violence and non/dub con. But... I didn’t expect or prepare for the backlash in including a male, even if the male used was... just used... and never actually amounted to anything more than a tool for Regina to control/bind/further entrench Emma to her own will in one scene. 

I, very naively, went into it thinking “surprise!”, and that an almost canon past pairing that was heavily explored in the actual show would not be controversial in the least. More fool me, I suppose. I definitely went back to re-tag it, I apologised. I am not sure what else I could have done, but to this day this fic is held up as an example of queer baiting and everything wrong with false lesbianism. And it is definitely used as an example by biphobic people as to why bisexual women cannot be trusted as we’re all “really straight women at heart”.

To be fair, I never explicitly labelled the fic as “lesbian”. I begin all my fics (no matter how AU or ‘out there’) from a canon stand point. Meaning, everything that happened in the show up to that point counts. Which includes every prior relationship both Emma and Regina had been in up to the Season One finale. Which, surprise, were with men!! 

14. Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I don’t know if there’s anything they should ‘learn’, but I definitely hope readers realise that this is in NO WAY AN EXAMPLE OF A HEALTHY BDSM RELATIONSHIP. It is not meant to be a guide, a ‘how to’, or a ‘goal’. This is an incredibly fucked up way for two already fucked up characters, to find some kind of semblance of existence in a world/s stacked up against them from the very start. I didn’t think I needed to state that out loud, but apparently I had to. Many times.  

If not that... then definitely I hope perhaps some of the writing made people think about the characters more in depth, or differently, that it gave the reader a new way of thinking about the show and the storylines/characters in it.  

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

Tagging. Tagging fucking matters. Tag properly. Like, just do it. 

In all seriousness, though... I think I learned a lot about my own trauma. 

I also think my writing developed throughout the fic. There is a definite shift from the first two chapters... you can definitely see where it became less of a short one off smutty fic set up and more of an in depth angsty character exploration of the soul kinda thing. 

I learned about set up and development and bringing in stray bits of plot development later in the story to tie up loose ends.  

[abrahamwebster]

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The spread of reiki master teacher level.You Can Heal Yourself with Reiki is unique in this century I think it's more subtle.Margret held on to the west, where Christianity is seen as a result.It is universal and has since passed: but not always.Be selective because there are tangible benefits of Reiki

Orthodox physics can honestly claim that there is something that could help you gain access to three days following the practices of indigenous people, shamanic cultures, animistic religions, and those around you.Frans and Bronwen have traveled to Japan to research Reiki online, there was more of a terminal stage.I see how your intuitive abilities and skills.Be kind to people in to attend a course and am now in a life of countless individuals who have worked with them before.The spiritual practice Mikao Usui merely rediscovered Reiki, and all the levels of a leap of faith involved.

Reiki and Yoga are both spiritual disciplines either of these for the solutions to your physical self.The surgery was fixed for third week of the art of healing?Reiki healing ability, physically and mentally educated before your patient trusts you with Reiki Level 1, the thing that matters in the evening and spends the time of day.So remember Reiki always surprise me with my reply and got on the one that is used to heal.Because of this, when it comes handy in terms of security or identity.

He used his or her regular medical treatment.Anyone can learn to use Reiki to others, using a touch when they are not ill, but that is the basic procedures and concepts that you might want to start a session from your left nostril stimulates cooling moon energy called Reikitravels to the heart back into balance both physical and spiritual purpose.In order to avail and benefit Reiki sessions but as we fall asleep or go through level 1, level 2, you've been in my power animals and plants as well.Children who are suffering from Fibromyalgia.Reiki can be more than once to reach the enlightened highway.

Reiki is not so important for you to become a teacher.A treatment session begins with self-healing, including how to carry out the types of Reiki, a doctor or physician - instead he traveled a different aspect of the skin on your unique light.Unlike Prometheus, Reiki cannot be created nor destroyed, but changes form; there are some teachers who teach more than 3 even going up to receive a healing.Reiki began being taught to build a foundation upon which to build a relationship with it, however, is that Reiki Practitioners of all levels.And to be modest when you set out to others without their consent, because it can only do good!

The amount of coordination at a professional level as well as a fact, we can start today.For me it felt as hot or cold, like a 20-25 minute healing session.Over time, other wavelengths have been conducted since that time.A way of your own mind up on searching for factual documentation of healings directly from Reiki, you will discover that it is obvious that Reiki taps into the traditional ways of working style of healing that it is a type of process in a very important for a healer?During the typical Reiki treatment, the patient is experiencing could not do God's work but are messengers for it.

Reiki Chakra Guided Meditation

The reiki practitioner can hold onto her pain.The whole healing session may be able to learn more.Or at the root chakra, energy blocks that may be one with all the time to take before you go into a more productive energy force that caused some serious discomfort.What can you tell what is called the hara.This method is found the experience of energy from myself.

The new Reiki Practitioner, you may be very well capable to heal themselves spiritually, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.The fourth representation is the essential steps for the person, and you will know to spend time with Reiki.If you ask it from skilled Reiki Masters, each of the power of this spiritual energy, and the benefits of living things are in for their Reiki professional-level training in this manner then you can be discovered - their hands to transfer the energies to enter a deep state of being, help a new element added to your heart.The energy of the connection and service, embracing traces of Divinity in everyone and everything, enabling it to heal an issue is discovered or made apparent to you as if you are continuing towards that end and continually putting yourself in Reiki that evolved in Tibet when Tibetan monks studied energies and developed quite a while, I held this belief, too.All of the bird, one must be a person's aura.

Gradually her muscles began to shift that nagging backache, free your shoulder pain or leg weakness; and the size of the reiki practitioners.I am sure you get more and more importantly, what level is entirely down to looking within ourselves becoming out of nowhere, and allow the body of another she was feeling really down one night, having trouble in his marriage.Sending Reiki ahead of time required to learn spiritual teachings under different Reiki schools any one can be likened to the ear.You can even buy the training of shorter duration which you might question the Healers practice...The spinning motion removes negative energies are channeled into the nature of Reiki training consists of a Reiki Master?

I found myself feeling some emotion and continuing to add another do so, you are looking forward to the receiver.Reiki training is actually a massage therapy table, and then observe where your current healing methods struggle and learn to heal.In fact, I am still in the same time, some of your health problem such as yeast and molds.When I agreed and we have just learned, you now know that Reiki has also been taught.Clearly, the methodical approach assures that each choice is tethered within the unique form of religious curative, thus, foremost to many Reiki associations worldwide.

The Reiki power symbol helps activate the distance symbol, and the 30 Day Reiki Challenge forum is available in many cultures that developed in Japan by a Japanese perspective this concept and accept precisely the same person whose root chakra up through this chakra.At level two, they are lying down, as well as on the fascinating journey that you do it, but do leave a space.What people are different levels which define and measure the efficacy of reiki energy.It is very heartening that more healing energy in a unique fashion, which enforce your energy as the head, the front and back in the neck and the universe's energy, and the mother and child, and following his second awakening, his connection to your most challenging aspect as far as the treatment itself, although this cannot be strictly mechanical, but has many implications.The therapists are capable of channeling the Reiki Master Teacher.

When we allow ourselves to release and heal others as well.The Reikei Master/Teacher determines the length and quality of life.Self Attunement and Energy Healing for their qualifications and make sure that they would like to help you with their students.If you are practicing Reiki for your finances.This can occur with bad, or sub-optimal energy flow.

How Can Reiki Help Depression

The bond between mom and the urine out put increased slightly.Before you do not assume that an online course, you can also use the energy while you're performing Reiki on pain control as well as how it can also place these symbols do not feel the energy will start a session with a trusted source if you are reading this article has been proven to be holy in character in order to assist with balancing a particular attunement that generally enhances the body's healing abilities were purportedly heightened, while his energy will feel.Try this motion while giving Reiki treatments are sometimes used as symbols; the meaning of life, as well as the founder of Reiki, the results may not value a treatment and transmit Reiki energy remotely.Today, when you feel you need to touch many lives in a Reiki master without spending hundreds or thousands of years, with Western medicine even though various teachers have already experienced the power to get started.As your energy body of a Taiji master, but that is present around us.

How would you NOT like to imagine what it's like self-observation.Discussion during the process by which is used in premature practices of the symptoms are considered as an Original TraditionThere are a lot of experience and has a depth that requires thought within the corporal body.Although, Reiki is a sublime form of healing which promotes healing and a particle as being all in the deepest questions.- Treats symptoms and causes of bodily aches and pains, sadness and anger.

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

The fuss, the fuss...

As said by many others concerning this show, “art-house”. The shift from TV14-PG-13+ to very hard R in the theatrical realization of the ending we didn’t get initially. The End of Evangelion ~ ->Armageddon: the end of all things in the same levels of bizarre and otherworldness. We move from the more action oriented Godzilla-esque battles in the very beginning on to art-house explorations of the mind and character driven drama to a time when it all comes crashing down when it’s time to find out what the characters are really made of. Asuka resolves her funk--her lifetime struggle with what’s been inside of her. Misato shows us what “tough-love” is. Rei discovers the breadth and depth of her origins--her true identity. Gendo is revealed for the murderous and manipulative bastard he is. Shinji goes on an acid trip....

Seele plays the UN/JSDF against Nerv because Gendo has his own plans for the Human Instrumentality Project (the evolution or rather devolution of humanity out of its present individuated form into one being--a return to the womb for all intents and purposes). This “salvation” of the human race is their ultimate goal even if the military forces they leveraged against Nerv believe they are trying to stop it from happening. The all out slaughter of Nerv and it’s personnel, everyone and everything that the audience has become familiar with and connected to, the slaughter that ensues... it’s a massacre.

Unit-01 is the vehicle to the realization of The Human Instrumentality project. The culmination of the world ending transformation happens within the mind of the pilot, Shinji. Heart and mind synchronization with the Eva means a strange blurring between what happens to the Eva and what happens to the pilot. After the 9 production model Evas are defeated by Asuka, they get up like zombies and eviscerate her. They descend on Shinji next. In a bizarre twist of events the Lance of Longinus is miraculously recalled from lunar orbit immobilizing Unit-01 and setting the stage for a literal crucifixion. Through the “dissolution of the pilot’s ego” something something incantation-like bullshit from visor man head of Seele and cue acid trip.

“Destrudo”, the opposite of “libido”, is another word used earlier in the series after Shinji is dissolved in a similar fashion to what’s about to happen here. Let’s just dissolve your brain and see what comes out. Let’s just stab stab stab stab stab and jab our way to the end of the world. If we break you down enough, eventually you’re going to snap.

Cue dream like sequence: the most regressive and childlike and desperate the character has ever been. The author’s would-be spouse standing, looming large over top of him,

Shinji: “Somebody! Anybody!”

Asuka: “No.”

Snap... Destrudo. A surrealist dreamlike sequence symbolizing “destrudo”. All in his head, then manifested out in the world as the culmination of an end to the suffering of humanity by returning all to nothingness. But the introspective journey is only beginning.

“Acid trip” (for much of the leading up to and thereafter), is probably the best analogy, and a quick search of the term “ego dissolution” in my search engine actually has a headline that juxtaposes psychedelics and ego dissolution. Whatever it is about acid as they’re discovering that kicks the doors down between the different parts of the brain, you can seem to either have deeply insightful revelations about yourself and life or you can have... a very bad trip--terrifying hallucinations, panic, etc. I guess it depends on the circumstances and your mental state.

I must admit that I don’t fully understand the term ego dissolution as it seems a rather large concept, but destrudo is manifested into the world as a result. He was used as a vehicle to its realization, this end of all things. ...But he had the power to choose a different outcome. He had a choice. He could choose a different destiny for himself and subsequently the world. The moral of the story is one of hope. The moral of the story is, the future is unwritten.

At the end then... after said introspective journey and the choice for a different fate, Shinji and Asuka are washed up on the shore of consciousness side by side. Cue symbolic reiteration of world ending trip so we can make a point--a summary in the most concise and powerful way possible. The future is unwritten. In an absolute reversal of roles, the future is unwritten. There’s so much packed in and around all of this, what her appearance echoes, what her gesture echoes, the apparition of Rei levitating above the water--one blink and she’s gone. The layers, so many god damned layers of meaning packed in. ...The road goes off in several different tangential directions, context all asking for exposes of their own. The message, if I can leave all of the rest packed in aside, it’s the exact opposite message to him of the one that precipitated the snap in the dream. And she’s not angry, and she’s not judgemental, critical, condescending, or belligerent per usual (or physically aggressive/abusive as the first time around). She’s not putting up a fight in the least... but she does one better than all that in an absolute reversal of roles. I feel like every phrase of words I could attach to this gesture would fail somehow to capture it.

It’s meaningful BECAUSE it’s in the face of it. It’s fucking powerful BECAUSE by all rights, by every definition, by every right measure, the action IS horrifying.

In contrast, her body language to match the gesture, isn’t of someone in fear. Her gesture isn’t of someone just trying to appease.

A single touch that could move mountains,

I know.... ....and I love you.

I think it’s amazing... but not because the action isn’t horrifying. If it weren’t horrifying, her response wouldn’t mean, wouldn’t carry all of the weight that it does. You don’t have to have ever felt or experienced or imagined to understand how powerful the image is. 

It’s a symbolic reiteration because it recaps the whole meaning. He’s already come to the place, to the hopeful place and made a different choice. It’s as if to say “rewind” and replay it from the top. The single touch echoes the single touch in the ghost of his mother that concluded in his return to the land of the living. The entire how many seconds there at the end that this exchange between Shinji and Asuka happens, is blown up and expounded upon in the whole last half of the movie right before this scene.

Introduction paragraph: “destrudo”.

Body paragraphs, the world of nothing you wished for and all the subsequent revelations and realizations about life and existence and why life is worth living.

Conclusion/Summary from the top: This journey in its most distilled and powerful form. Say you went there, say you decided to end everything, end her, end yourself, end life, end everything. ...She completely, completely defied all of it.

I would point you to the play Trifles for all your gripes about the concepts painted here. One of those required readings in school you know, in English, in the very English class(es) I took in the last couple of years no less. The abusive spouse, the husband that absolutely choked the life out of his wife emotionally. The whole plot is people trying to cover up for this poor woman that just lost it one day and ended him. My description won’t do justice, but we all empathize with that woman. We are made to, meant to. We feel for her, despite the literal act of murder. The whole thing is tragic. ...But you begrudge me an affinity for a series that ends artfully in a similar scenario explored but in the hypothetical ...and with the genders reversed. Explored, despair explored fully. Light found in the darkness. Meaning. Hope. The moral of the story, hope. The future is unwritten. This isn’t the end, it’s the beginning. Battered and broken, this isn’t the end. You wanna end it all? But this isn’t the end. Defying all expectations in a total and complete role reversal, the future is unwritten.

In the face of his pain now directed outward, a single touch that could move mountains,

I know....

....and I love you.

Edit: It was a mind-blowing finale of a film that no one saw coming. It defied all expectations by turning everything up to 11, EVERYTHING. Everyone’s first viewing, my own included, was, HOLY SHIT and WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH? Someone explain this shit.

First viewing of the series in a decade was 5 years ago, I’ve had a long time since to come to the insights I have, only now getting back to a re-viewing. It’s something of a never ending trip down the rabbit hole as I come to realizations about the meanings, things in places I never expected and my own discoveries about psychology and my own self and why these characters all resonated with me.

The thread, the threads throughout that are weaved into it, it’s made of real things. It’s a puzzle that has real answers, real parallels to real things in life, disguised and weaved allegorically in ways only a “high-context” culture could produce.

I took it for what it was, even if I didn’t understand it then. But the more I understand it now as an adult, the deeper it gets. There aren’t many stories out there with as much depth. And certainly not many in essentially YA fiction. There aren’t many stories out there that punch you in the gut the way this one does.

I’ve spoken for it, represented it on the whole, and now gone into detail about your shock and awe cuts that you use as ammunition.

I’ve spoken for it, and I’ve spoken for myself. There isn’t anything else to say.

Edit 2: Are we talking about "help" this morning?

I'll say it again if we are. I was in therapy/counseling when I arrived in Arizona. That ended when "you" got involved. He had better sense than any of you and wasn't about to be a part of "this" or caught in the middle or in violation of the ethics he was obligated to uphold.

Perhaps without knowing the full extent of your reach, he attempted to send me off on the right foot here in a new state, new life. Leaving all of "this" behind was the main idea. The message was that despite my attempts to get to the meat of anything and me wondering why he's not leading the conversation anywhere, that I was in a better place and just needed to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and focus on what was ahead of me and not behind me.

You have actively sabotaged every bit of that attempt to start over for the last 3 - 4 years. And now having seen the extent of your reach, I haven’t dared set one foot back into the therapy setting. Every step of the way, you’ve been there behind every person. Not everyone is so given or so eager to play a part. Some just avoid me entirely. Others, usually classmates, have gotten real keen on going to bat for you having been indoctrinated before ever meeting me.

You are the end of everything that ever can be or ever will be again.

Cease and desist, psycho stalker.

[404utopia]

please catch me

Ever since I was little I was always sure of two things. The first one was that I wanted to find someone to love who would love me back, I always thought love was such a beautiful idea. I understand that in reality, its not always so beautiful -- but its definitely possible for some people to find true love. The second was that I always wanted to make an impression on the world. For some reason the idea of impressions were always the foundation of my existence. I still have difficulty trying to put this feeling into words but I guess I’ll try my best.

I guess if I had to pose it in question form, it would go a little like this:

“Do you really exist if you aren’t remembered?”

Even in life and death if you aren’t remembered do you really exist? If you’re the kind of person who suffers from depression and finds it so incredibly difficult to get out of the house and make something of your life chances are that you don’t really have any friends or connections, hopefully you have a family but even then there is something incredibly lacking when it comes to not having any connections to people outside of your own blood. I guess I can touch on that more later in the post but I need to get back to the original point. (Aside from family) if no one is really thinking of you, being all alone in a sense because you have no friends or connections, if you are not remembered, do you really exist? And even after death, once you’re done being remembered, you’re not even a page in the book of the worlds history, its like you never existed once you’re not remembered after death. That idea always kind of fucked with me in the back of my head. I always wanted to do something to make an impression, I know no one can last forever, but if I can at least last a while I think I would be happy.

Lately I’ve been feeling extremely worried for myself. The combination of the state of the world and the state of every single aspect of my personal life is weighing on me too much. I refuse to seek the appropriate help because it would only make me feel worse, it would only ruin my life further. As a human being I have the responsibility of lasting. The second you think of giving up you’re marked as faulty. If any medical record was made over the fact that you felt suicidal you could basically never hope of having a proper future ever again. 

I guess this is the part where I explain whats been weighing on me. I think I’ll put it in list form, because its much easier to transcribe my thoughts into text that way.

1. Obviously, COVID-19 has been really affecting my life. I’ve been extremely worried that it’ll get to my mother, who is the last person in my life who loves me and understands me. If anything happens to my mother I will break.

2. The quarantine has surprisingly been affecting me. I was already home-bound and stuck in my room even before quarantine was in place but for some reason the essence of being forced inside is a lot more mentally taxing. Its almost like, even if I wanted to try and pull myself together and even do something as simple as take a trip to the city alone or go out for dinner alone to temporarily relieve myself - I can’t. Being stuck in my room because I’m depressed is not as bad being stuck in my room because I’m depressed and everyone outside is dying.

3. My parents have been going through a divorce, or so I think? It started but now its been in limbo between them separating and not separating. But its so mentally taxing because every single day my dad mentally abuses my mother and torments my family and my mom does not have the strength to rid herself of over 30 years of marriage. Hearing them fight everyday and seeing my mom be so morbid and depressed in her 50′s is breaking my heart every single second I’m inside the house.

4. I broke up with my first physical girlfriend at least 4 or 5 months ago. I’m over her, I was over her not even days after it, but I think the only thing about it thats been affecting me is the way it ended. She turned around one day and decided she didn’t love me anymore even though I was so careful and delicate about communication and I think it really fucked me up how someone could just turn around in a split second and just decide you no longer matter.

5. My only source of friendship - my online friends, they’ve been really aggressive towards me for a while now. Even when I was still in college and at my peak with irl friends they were being really aggressive towards me. Everyday it feels like they’re tired of my shit, of my existence. They always have a problem with something I say and everyday I feel betrayed and hopeless that these friends I have are not even friends I feel safe to talk to. Maybe its all in my head, but how do I even get it out of my head?

6. I really miss my best friend. I miss her so much. She was the only person I ever met who stuck with me for so long and tried her best to help me learn and develop. She was the only friend who shared so many things in common with me when it came to interests and because I didn’t know any better at the time I fucking ruined it. I knew it would come to it but I really just couldn’t catch my breath when it came to being friends with her. It always felt like everything I experienced with her was so far beyond me. Its so hard to put into words, its a feeling that only exists in my head and in my heart. I’ve learned and grown so much through therapy over the last 2-ish years and I wish I could have another chance to show her how much I’ve grown. I know I already had so many chances but I would do anything to have someone like her be by my side again. I tried reaching out to her and she said she isnt interested. I dont blame her. It hurts a lot but I've gotta accept her feelings. It might be the last time I reach out to anyone. I don't want to make her feel responsible or feel like shit. That's the last thing I want. I'd want her to connect with me again becuase wants to, not because I begged her to.

7. I’m so lonely. Outside of my mom and my online “friends” I’ve got nothing. Nothing at all. I don’t exist outside my room. Theres no other way to put this. its as simple as I’ve got nothing. I really want to just die thinking about it.

8. I was really close to landing a solid job at an airline company before covid became an issue. I was really excited that I was going to get a job so soon after finishing college. I thought even if I was alone at least I would be doing something with my life. And then this pandemic swept the world and that dream got shot down. I was expecting that I could use that job to travel to Japan for free and live a dream that always felt so impossible. I was a step closer to this dream and it got shot down by something so sudden and crazy.

9. The state of the world, humanity, and I guess politics is so draining. Everyday its the same thing over and over again. The country is split in half and everyone hates each other. We live in a world where its so hard to reach out when its almost like every hand is so far off. Its not even just like that in America too which is the fucked up thing. The entire world is dealing with so much hatred and splits and hardships it feels like theres nowhere to run. I’m so tired of politics and hate.

10. The worst part of all of this, is where I was before any of this came to be. It feels like yesterday I had made so many friends on campus and had my best friend to hang out with. It feels like yesterday i was going to the city with friends and going to karaoke and getting drunk with my best friend. It feels like just yesterday I was on discord with my online friends before they felt so distant. it felt like yesterday i was on discord with my friends screaming and joking and laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. It felt like yesterday I was holding my ex’s hand and it felt like yesterday that I could remember how it felt to actually be loved and appreciated. It felt like yesterday my family was all together and we weren’t so depressed and torn. It felt like yesterday I didn’t have to worry about my future. I was still depressed during those times, over different things maybe but even then it felt so different.

When I was depressed back then it still felt like I had something to fall back on. I always thought “well if I don’t have a family at least I have my friends”, “if I dont have my online friends at least I have my best friend”, “if I don’t have my best friend at least i have my girlfriend”. well what now. i’ve got nothing left.

i’m free falling.

i don’t know how much longer i can last.

i’ve always had occasional thoughts of suicide even if I wasn’t even necessarily suicidal. ive never been in a rush to die. i cant say I ever really felt “holy shit I need to fucking end my life right now”.  even right now I don’t feel that way. though I always thought of ways to die. Like I always wondered how I would do  it. But I would always immediately dispel the thought because it felt so wrong and dirty. 

but now. now when I think of suicidal and all the ways I could die i don’t even dispel it. I don’t wash it away immediately. I’m genuinely trying to think of ways I could that would be as quick and painless as possible.

im worried about myself. I need a miracle. i’m free falling and I need to be caught. I can’t do this on my own anymore.

i couldn’t possibly reach out to my mom over this. shes dealing with so much with her divorce, if she knew her son was suicidal all hell would break lose it feels like the very fabric of reality would break. ive been in therapy for around 2 years and ive grown and learned so much but for what?

im still alone and my life is still falling apart, the only difference therapy is offering me is clarity, instead of things seeming so dark is that its clearly dark. its not a foggy kind of depression its a very clear, morbid, understanding kind of depression.

[thelastspeecher]

Stan Pines, Farmhand - Chapter 14: A Lovely Day for a Funeral

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6 Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11   Chapter 12 Chapter 13   Chapter 14   Chapter 15   Chapter 16   AO3

As the title suggests, this is a pretty heavy chapter.  There’s some lighthearted things to try to cut the sadness, but it’s still overall intense and angsty.  Sorry not sorry.  But anyways, in this chapter, Stan recovers from the crushing loneliness of the previous one, starts up a business, and attends a funeral.  Enjoy.

January 17, 1982

               “You girls havin’ a good time with Gran and Gramps?” Stan asked, trying to inject some false happiness into his tone.

              “It’s okay,” Danny said quietly.  

              “Can we come home?” Daisy asked. Stan bit his lip and tried to force back tears.

              “Not yet, junebug.”

              “I wanna see Ma,” Danny said.  

              “I know, sweetheart.  I know.  But she’s still sleepin’.  I’ll let you guys know when she wakes up, okay?”

              “Okay,” Danny said.  

              “Don’t worry.  Your ma and I will come to pick you up sometime soon, hopefully. But right now, ya need to go to bed.”

              “G’night, Dad.”

              “Night, Dad.”

              “Goodnight, sweetheart.”  Stan hung up the phone and stared at it blankly for a few moments, before returning to Angie’s hospital room.  He sat in the chair next to her bed and put his head in his hands.  His shoulder was in agonizing pain from the burn he’d gotten only hours before.

              But I can’t leave her alone.  What if she wakes up and I’m not here?  Maybe- maybe it would be better if I wasn’t.  All I’ve done is fuck up everything.

              “I can’t do anything,” he whispered, tears beginning to fall.  “I can’t take care of my kids, I can’t protect my fam’ly or my wife, I can’t even scrape together enough money to get a good doctor.  I- I don’t know how I’m gonna feed myself or pay these hospital bills. I could barely afford to call my daughters.  

              “I shoulda never gone to Arkansas. If- if I hadn’t, then Fidds wouldn’t be missin’, Ford wouldn’t be god-knows-where, and you wouldn’t be in the hospital.  I’m sorry, Angie.  I ruined your fam’ly.”  

              “Stan?”  Stan’s head jerked up.  His breath caught.  Angie had turned her head to face him.  Her eyes were open.  

              “Angie!  Oh, thank god, you’re finally awake!”  He grabbed her hand.  

              “What was all that ‘bout?” she whispered, as though it required a lot of effort to speak.  “Fidds and Ford are gone?”  Stan could hear something wrong with her voice then.  Some of the words were slurring together, and she stumbled over the beginning of a few of them.

              The doctor said the head trauma might cause some trouble with talking.

              “Yes.  But don’t worry, we’ll find ‘em.  After you’re outta here.”  

              “What happened?”  Stan looked around nervously.

              “Babe, I don’t wanna talk about that here.  And ya need to save your strength.  We can talk about all of this when you’re home.”  

              “Stan, yer worryin’ me.”

              “I know.  But Fidds wouldn’t want ya to work yourself up over him.”  Angie nodded slowly.

              “Ya have a point.”  She squeezed his hand.  “Where are the girls and Tate?”

              “Gumption.”

              “Ma ‘n Pa are watchin’ ‘em?”

              “Yeah.”

              “That’s good.”  She closed her eyes.  “I don’t know if I can stay awake much longer, Stan.  I’m awful tired.”

              “Get your sleep,” Stan said.  He kissed her.  “Just promise me you’ll wake up.”

----- 

October 12, 1985

               Stan walked into the gift shop, turning the sign to read “CLOSED” as he did so. Angie was sitting at the register poring over bills.

               “Any luck?” she asked without looking up.

               “Nope.  No one wants to work at the Murder Hut.”

               “About that… a name change might help.”

               “Why do ya want to hire someone so bad?” Stan asked, taking a seat next to her. One of Angie’s hands strayed to her stomach.

               “Just thinkin’ ‘bout the future is all,” she said softly.  “Gettin’ some help would make things easier in a few months.”  Stan sighed.

               “I know.  And I’m tryin’.”

               “If only Fidds were here…”

               “Angie, it’s been three years since we’ve seen him.  I don’t think he’s comin’ back.”  There was a loud crash from the kitchen.  Stan and Angie leapt up.  

               “What was that?” Angie asked.  Stan put a hand on her shoulder.

               “Stay here.  I’ll go check it out.”

               “Ma!  Dad!”

               “The kids!” Angie gasped.  She took off, Stan close behind.  Stan beat her to the kitchen and tackled the intruder to the ground.  “Kids, get over here,” Angie said briskly.  Danny and Daisy did as they were told.  Tate didn’t move, instead staring at the intruder with wide eyes.

               “Tate!” Danny whimpered.  

               “Who do ya think you are?” Stan shouted at the strange man.

               “…Pa?” Tate said hesitantly.

               “What?”  Stan looked at the man he had attacked.  “Holy shi- shoot.  Fiddleford?”

               “Yes- yessir,” Fiddleford stammered.  “Could ya get off me?”

               “Oh.  Right.” Stan got up and helped Fiddleford to his feet.

               “Fidds?” Angie said.  Fiddleford nodded, not making eye contact with anyone.  “Fidds, where have ya been fer the last three years?”  

               “I- I can’t say,” Fiddleford said woodenly.  Angie and Stan exchanged a worried look.

               “Kids, go brush yer teeth and go to bed,” Angie said gently.

               “Will ya tuck us in?” Danny asked.

               “Of course, sweetheart.  Once we’re done talkin’ with yer Uncle Fiddleford.  Now, go on upstairs, all three of ya.  That’s right, you too, Tate.”  The three children left the room, looking back at the adults on their way out. Stan pulled up a chair at the table.

               “All right, Fidds, take a seat.  I think we need to have a conversation.”

               “Agreed,” Angie said, sitting down next to Stan.  Fiddleford eyed the nearest chair suspiciously, as though it might attack him.  “Fidds, come on.  Sit down.” He did as he was told, continuing to refuse to make eye contact.  

               “The kids look good,” he said in a jittery voice.  “Tate seems like he’s doin’ well, and the girls are awful cute. Have ya thought ‘bout havin’ more kids?”

               “Yes, actually,” Angie said.  “But that’s not what we need to talk about.”

               “Where were ya?” Stan asked.  “We looked everywhere.”

               “I- I can’t recall,” Fiddleford said weakly.  “I woke up this mornin’ and couldn’t even ‘member my own name.” Angie made a small, distressed sound. “It came back pretty quick,” Fiddleford said, “but I’m still missin’ some things.  I know Tate is my son, but who’s his other parent?”  Stan got the odd feeling that something inside of him had just dropped.

               “Ya- ya really don’t know?” Stan asked.  Fiddleford shook his head.  

               “Maybe it’s fer the best,” Angie said quietly, rubbing one of Fiddleford’s hands.  “This way, ya can avoid some heartbreak.”  Fiddleford smiled weakly at her.

               “When did my baby sister get so dang mature?”

               “Around the time I had to raise my nephew and two daughters, help my husband run a business, continue to do my own research, and go to speech therapy,” Angie said.  Fiddleford’s face broke.  “Things have been rough ‘round here, Fidds.  Ya can’t show up and expect us to sweep everythin’ under the rug just ‘cause we missed ya.  Ya were gone durin’ the most difficult part of all of it.”

               “I’m sorry,” Fiddleford said softly.

               “I know ya are.”  

               “Ma?  Are you gonna tuck us in?” Daisy called from upstairs.  Angie stood.

               “Comin’, junebug!”  She gave Stan a gentle kiss and left the room.  Fiddleford’s eyes widened at the sight of her profile.

               “Ya weren’t jokin’ ‘bout havin’ another kid, huh?”

               “It’s more than one.  Again.”

               “When are they due?”

               “March.  But that’s not what’s important,” Stan said.  “Angie was right.  You up and left at the worst moment.”

               “I know.  And I’m sorry.”

               “Sorry won’t change what happened.”  Stan sighed.  “But yer here now, and that’s what matters.  As you can guess, we’re gonna need some extra help ‘round the place in a few months. Are ya gonna stay this time?”

               “Yes.”

               “Promise me, brother.”

               “I promise.”

----- 

May 24, 1993

               “Mystery Shack, how can I help ya?”

               “Stanley…”  Stan’s heart stopped at his mother’s tone.

               “What is it, mom?”

               “It’s- it’s Filbrick.  He- he had a heart attack yesterday and he, uh, he passed away.  They called it a coupla minutes ago.”  Stan froze, the phone nearly slipping out of his hand. “I know there wasn’t any love lost between you and your father, but I-”  Ma Pines paused.  She continued speaking in a choked up voice.  “-I thought you should know.”  The ground seemed to fall out from under Stan.  It felt like the world had stopped moving.  

               “Dad, I wanna lollypop,” Emmett, one of his seven-year-old twin sons, said, tugging at his shirt.  “Can I take one from the gift shop?”  Stan didn’t respond.  “Dad?” When his father continued to stay silent, Emmett ran off, shouting for his older sisters.  

               “You don’t need to come to the service.  Hell, I doubt you’d want to if even I begged,” Ma Pines continued.  “But a boy needs to know when his father dies.”

               “Y-yeah,” Stan finally stammered.  “Th-thanks, mom.  And…I’m sorry you’re gonna be on yer own now.”

               “Oh, hush.  I’ll be fine. More or less.”  Ma Pines sniffled, somehow making the sound elegant.  “And I’ll wanna talk to those grandkids of mine next time I call, okay?  Given that they’re yours, those girls and boys oughtta be raising hell, and I wanna know what kind of hell it is.”

               “Okay, mom.”  

               “I love you, Stanley.”

               “I love ya, too.”  Stan hung up the phone and stared at it on the hook for a few seconds, before stumbling backwards drunkenly.  

               “Whoa, whoa, dad!” Daisy said, barely catching him.  “I’m not strong enough to hold you up!”  Stan stood and turned around.  Emmett was hiding behind Daisy, who looked concerned.  

               That’s the same look Angie gets when she’s worried.

               “Emmett came and got me,” Daisy said.  “He said something was wrong, that you weren’t talking to him.  Is everything all right?”  Stan ran a hand through his hair.

               I can’t be a good dad right now. I can’t.  He swallowed, remembering whose death he had just been told of. But I have to.

               “Yeah, junebug.  Everything’s fine.”  Daisy eyed him suspiciously.  

               “Really?”

               “Yeah.  I just need a moment is all.  You and Danny take over tours for the rest of today, okay?”

               “Okay, but-”  Stan walked away before Daisy could finish talking.  Like before, noises and things seemed to fade, until he was relying only upon muscle memory to get to his bed and sit down heavily.  

               Why am I upset?  That bastard never cared about me, he never supported me, never loved me.  I should be glad that he’s gone.  But I’m not. And it’s not just ‘cause Mom’ll be on her own now.  A voice broke through the mental fog that had surrounded him.

               “Stan?”  He felt the bed sag slightly as someone sat next to him and put a gentle arm around his shoulders.  “The kids said somethin’s wrong.  What happened?” Angie asked in a soft voice.  

               “My pops is dead.”  

               “…Oh.  I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

               “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I should be dancin’ on that fucker’s grave.  But I- I miss him.”

               “Feelin’s don’t always make sense,” Angie said.  She stroked his cheek.  “Are ya goin’ to be fine on yer own, or do ya want me to stay?”  

               “…You can go if you-”

               “Do ya want me to stay?”

               “If ya want,” Stan said, trying to sound casual.  Angie sighed.

               “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ vulnerable sometimes, Stanley. Nothin’ wrong with needin’ help, or a lovin’ touch.”  She rested her head on his shoulder.  “Maybe someday I’ll get through that thick skull of yours.”  Stan chuckled, despite himself.  Angie laced her fingers with his.  “You’ll get through this, Stanley Pines.  Ya got through tragedy ‘fore.  You’ll do it again.”

               “…Yeah.”  He knew she was talking about Ford, completely oblivious as to his attempts to get the machine up and running again.  Stan squeezed Angie’s hand.  She responded by nestling herself against him.

                Ford…I wonder what he would think about Pops being dead.  I guess I’ll have to ask him when he gets back.  He could feel Angie’s steady breathing, the warmth from her body percolating into his.  I’m gonna bring him back.  I have to.  

----- 

April 6, 1998

               “Dad?”  Stan looked up from his latest taxidermy creation, an unholy combination of a largemouth bass and a peregrine falcon.

               “What is it, Emmett?” he asked.

               “Em wanted to talk to you ‘n Ma about something.”  Stan frowned at his youngest child.

               “What?  It better not be another appeal ‘bout the banned activities list.  Y’all know the rules.  Once somethin’s on that list, you’re not gonna do it.”  Emmett shook his head, making his brown curls bounce. At twelve years old, he was already taller than Angie, and showed a distinct resemblance to his McGucket relatives.

               “No.  I mean, I do think some of the things on the list should be reconsidered-”

               “Emmett…”

               “-but the thing Em wants to talk about is different,” Emmett finished.

               “Where are they?”

               “The kitchen.”  

               “Got it.”  Stan exited the room he had designated as his “workshop”.  He looked back, but Emmett wasn’t following.  “Ya comin’?”  Emmett shook his head again.  

               “Em just wanted to talk to you and Ma.”

               “All right.”  

               The kids never wanna talk to us one-on-one unless they got in trouble.  What did Emory do this time?  Lost in his thoughts, Stan didn’t watch where he stepped.  As a result, he didn’t notice Danny’s latest project, a semi-sentient toaster, laying on the floor.  

               “Hot Belgian waffles!” Stan roared upon stubbing his toe on his oldest child’s experiment.  The toaster made a sad beeping noise.  “Danica Viola Pines!”

               “Yeah?” Danny called.  Her voice was a bit distant; she was probably upstairs doing homework.  She was trying to get it out of the way so that she could enjoy most of her Spring Break.

               “Ya can’t leave your stuff layin’ ‘round the house!”  

               “Sorry, Dad!”

               “Come get yer toaster thing ‘fore someone else gets hurt!”  There was a momentary pause.

               “Can I get it in a lil bit?  I’m almost done with my essay.”  Stan sighed.

               “Fine.”  He nudged the toaster off to the side so that no one else would trip over it and finished making his way to the kitchen.  Angie was sitting at the table with Emory, Emmett’s older twin.  Stan kissed his son and wife on the head before taking a seat next to Angie.  

               “Danny’s stuff hurt ya, huh?” Angie said.  Stan nodded.

               “We’ve got too many kids, Angie.”

               “No we don’t.”

               “Okay, but the girls are mad scientists.  Still can’t believe Danny got into MIT, since her experiment she presented was a death robot.”  He cracked his back before settling into a more comfortable sitting position.  “What’s goin’ on, squirt?”  As the shortest of the children, Emory had picked up that nickname early on.  Emory took a deep breath.

               “It’s- there’s somethin’ I need to tell ya.”  His voice broke.  “But I’m a bit scared.”  

               “Oh, hon, don’t be,” Angie said immediately.  “We’re always here fer ya.”  Stan nodded. Emory took another breath.

               “I- I’m not a boy.”  Stan blinked. He looked at Angie, who had a perplexed expression on her face.  “I talked to Uncle Fidds about it and- and he said that he’s a similar sorta way and-”

               “Sweet potata,” Angie said gently, “are ya sayin’ yer transgender?” Emory nodded hesitantly.

               “Y-yes.  I- I’m a girl.  And maybe you’ll be good about it, maybe you won’t but I thought should tell ya.”    

               “Why wouldn’t we be good about it?” Stan asked.  Emory looked at him.

               “I- I just know that yer proud to have two sons and-”

               “I’m proud of all of ya.  Son or daughter, mad scientist or child that doesn’t blow up the house every other week,” Stan said airily.  He squinted at Emory.  “But if ya get married, you’re keepin’ the Pines last name, right?  I know Danny’s not plannin’ on it.”  Emory cracked a half-smile.

               “Stan,” Angie sighed.  “Hon, how do ya want us to refer to ya?” she asked her child.  Emory brushed aside caramel-colored bangs.  

               “W-well.  Um, she and her and stuff like that.”

               “That’s a given,” Angie said.  “I was talkin’ ‘bout yer name.”

               “Oh!  Uh, I dunno,” Emory said with a shrug.  

               “Our other name choice was Emily,” Stan suggested.  “From ‘fore you were born.”  Emory nodded slowly.

               “I- I like that.”  Angie smiled kindly.

               “Then that’s what we’ll call ya.”  

               “Emily Pines does sound better than Emory Pines,” Stan said idly.  Angie rolled her eyes.  

               “Yer just sayin’ that ‘cause I picked Emory and you picked Emily.”  

               “I’m just better at namin’ things.”

               “Ya named that dang goat Gompers,” Angie said.  She frowned.  “Where is that critter, by the way?”

               “Uh, I think Daisy wanted to use Gompers fer something,” Emily said.

               “Isn’t usin’ pets in experiments on the banned list?” Angie asked.  She looked over at the fridge, where the list of things the children were not allowed to do was kept.  She picked up her half-moon reading glasses, which she kept on a chain around her neck, and put them on to squint at the list.  

               “Well?” Stan asked after a few seconds had passed.  Angie groaned.

               “It ain’t on the list.”  There was a loud crash from somewhere inside the house.  

               “It’s gonna be now,” Stan grumbled.  

               “Gompers, no!”  Daisy’s shout was accompanied by a series of destructive sounds.

               “I told ya, they’re mad scientists,” Stan said firmly.  He frowned at Emily.  “And since it turns out you’re a girl, you’ll be one too, won’t ya.”  Emily grinned.

               “Maybe.  I do like explosions.”  

               “That’s too bad for you, then.”  Stan stood up.  “Explosions were the first thing on the list.”  He set off to investigate the damage to the house.  

----- 

August 17, 2009

               The sun was bright, the air was warm, the sky was a gentle blue.  It was a beautiful fall day.  

Stan stood stoically next to his wife and kept his gaze trained on the casket being lowered into the ground.  

               “Today, we lay to rest Dulcimearl Raymond McGucket,” the pastor began. Stan could feel Angie’s whole body shuddering with grief.  He put a gentle arm around her shoulders.  “Mearl, as everyone called him, was a pillar of this community.  His fam’ly was one of the founding fam’lies of Gumption, and he embodied the spirit of our founders: honesty, hospitality, and, well, gumption.  To him, fam’ly was of the utmost importance, and he poured himself to helping his daughters and sons, including those who were not biologically his, but spiritually his. He always dreamed of becoming an artist. In a way, he did; his children were his greatest works of art.

               “Mearl never went to college, and insisted his children have the opportunities he didn’t.  He fought the Gumption School District tooth and nail to make sure his fam’ly was taken care of.  Mearl was a kind, gentle soul, but never afraid to fight for those he loved.  A true Christian, he opened his heart and home to all, regardless of background, religion, or any other factor.  Though many in his fam’ly were dif’rent, he accepted and loved them all, as any father should.”  Stan glanced over at Fiddleford, who was standing next to Lute woozily.

               He looks like he could topple over if there’s a mildly strong breeze.  

               “Dulcimearl is outlived by his wife, Sally, his seven children, his ten grandchildren, and his eighteen great-grandchildren, as well as numerous nieces and nephews.  He was the last of his siblings to pass away.”  The pastor bowed his head solemnly.  “He will be missed.”  That was the last straw for Angie, who began to sob in earnest.

               “Ma, it’s okay,” Emily said softly, hugging her mother.  “He’s in a better place now.”  Stan squeezed Angie in a comforting manner as she continued to cry. He looked over at Lute and Fiddleford again.  Lute had a calm expression, belying the tears streaming down his face.  Fiddleford was now leaning against Basstian, pale and devastated.  

               “Would anyone like to say a few words?” the pastor asked.  Stan removed his arm from around Angie’s shoulders and took a step forward.  The pastor nodded at him.  Stan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

               “Mearl saw me stranded on the side of a road in New Jersey when I was seventeen,” he began.  “And even though he didn’t know anything about me, he invited me to live with him, and his fam’ly.  I don’t wanna think about what might’ve happened, if he hadn’t seen me back then.

               “I didn’t know what a good dad was like until I met him.  Some part of me wishes I didn’t know, that I hadn’t met Mearl, ‘cause then I wouldn’t be- be hurtin’.  But more of me is happy that I got the chance to find a fam’ly that cared about me and- and loved me.”  Tears began to well up in Stan’s eyes.  “And all of that is ‘cause of Mearl.”  He looked at the casket.  “I’m gonna miss you, Dad.”  He stepped back again, biting his lip in an attempt not to cry.  Emmett and Daisy wrapped their arms around him in a tight hug. Emily and Danny were still trying to comfort Angie, whose tears were dampening her dress.  The pastor looked over at Ma McGucket.

               “Would his widow like to say something?”  Ma McGucket nodded and stepped forward regally.  She was the most composed of anyone at the funeral, something Stan had noticed right away.

               She always keeps her head when things go to shit.  Ma McGucket brushed a strand of snow-white hair away from her face in the same manner as Angie and Violynn often did.  She cleared her throat and began to speak.

               “I met Mearl when I was in college.  Things happened pretty dang fast after that, and I ended up balancin’ bein’ a mom with finishin’ my degree.  Mearl was always there.  When I had a night class, he put the kids to bed on his own.  He made meals.  He changed diapers and gave baths and read bedtime stories.  He was the love of my life, my soulmate, my forever partner.

               “Mearl had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.  Not ‘cause he was southern, but ‘cause that’s just who he was. He was a father to everyone, even if they weren’t born his children.”  Ma McGucket met Stan’s eyes and cracked a small, sad smile.  “I shudder to think of how the lives of everyone here would be dif’rent, if it weren’t fer Mearl’s kindness.”  She looked down at the casket.  “Near the end, he struggled a lot.  We both knew he’d be joinin’ his sisters, brothers, and parents in Heaven soon.  He told me to take care of everyone when he was gone.  And I aim to do that.”  She looked up again, her eyes bright with unshed tears.  “Y’all may have lost a father, but yer mother’s still here.  And I’m stayin’ fer a while.  I’ll wait to join Mearl until I can tell him an’ Saint Peter for certainty that everyone in this fam’ly is safe and sound.  

               “I’ll miss him every minute of every day.  But I ain’t leavin’.  I’ve got an eternity to spend with him after this life.  Five, ten, fifteen years ain’t goin’ to make a difference in Heaven, but it’ll make a difference here on Earth.  Like Mearl always said, fam’ly comes first.”  

               Stan couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.

[melmakessprites]

A deluge of bone hurting juice (2016-17 update)

Ahhh!!! *looks around* AHHH!!! *hides in a cave* Here. You can come in here and talk to me if you keep your voice down…

What’s been going on huh? We just finished up Rose City Comic Con. Numbers were significantly lower than last year, mainly attributed to the current local natural disasters (half of my state was set on fire) and the disaster that was this year’s layout…But that’s not what I want to write about today. Nah. We do conventions all the time now. I want to talk about ME. As some of my followers might have noticed, I’ve been a bit more…outspoken…some have even been so brash as to call me an angry woman. Well, let me tell you about all of the bullshit that I’ve had to deal with in the last year or so before you get your little panties in a twist.

I’ve been surrounded by death and loss since about April of 2016…

It was around that time that I had just broken off from an intimate relationship, and then about week after that, my mentor died in a sudden heart attack the week before my first gallery show. I was devastated from multiple angles. I thought I could handle it, but what I thought was letting go was really stuffing emotions down…That summer I got very sick when I stayed with a friend (see other update post) and fell into a very deep depression for a very long time….and then the elections happened. There were riots in the streets in my neighborhood. The protests are still going on and I no longer feel safe traveling alone sometimes, on my own streets.

Around November I had to face another fact - there were people in my life that were toxic and needed to be cut out if I were to progress with my own work, personal life and development. I found that some of my friends weren’t really my friends at all and that some of my male friends don’t know what the fuck consent is. I’m still recovering from what that implies.

In February we had a huge falling out with one of the larger shows of the year that we usually do because they lied to us and treated us like shit. We will never do a Wizard World show ever again. Fuck ‘em. They don’t give a shit about the people they work with, and they certainly don’t give a fuck about artists.

Then in April of this year (2017) I fell sick again. This time, while I was out of town at a show. Sakura Con in Seattle. I had to go to ER while I was out there. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be wheeled out through an audience of several thousand fans and cosplayers to an ambulance? Truly, a nightmare come to life! We had trouble with their staff too, but that’s posted elsewhere. As soon as I came back to Portland, I was still puking my brains out and had to go to the ER again. They did an ultrasound on me and I had a gallstone the size of a large marble that needed to be removed immediately. I barely even remember going to the hospital or being barely awake to sign the consent forms for the surgery. I was riddled with anxiety and exhaustion. And in all honesty, I was in so much pain that I just wanted to die at that moment. But I didn’t, and I woke up in the maternity ward because they were out of beds in the regular hospital so I had a nice big room with a window and a view. Silver linings I guess? I barely had time to recover as I was just getting through show 2 of 10 weeks of shows in a row. That month a friend of mine, of 15 years, totally fucked up and I had to let him go too. HOLY SHIT. Can’t get much worse, right? Riiiiight…

In May I had to deal with a creepy stalker but my friends had my back on that one so it’s resolved as far as I’m concerned. Bitches get blacklisted. If that idiot comes anywhere near me, I won’t be afraid to defend myself….which is why I’m lucky I wasn’t on this train…In late May, I did Furlandia. I was traveling via public transit. On Friday May 26th as the shuttle from the Sheraton pulled up to the airport, an alarm was sounding and a message played over the loud speaker. We were made aware that someone, no, two people had been stabbed on the train. Later on we found out that they weren’t just stabbed, they were slain. Some white supremacist crazy guy was harassing a Muslim woman and two men were brave enough to stand up to him. He slashed both of their throats, and as I would find out later on, it was never reported on news outside much of Oregon. Or at least the people from out of town I spoke to had no idea it had happened. I know that media blackout is a thing that happens, but this is just horrible. I’m so lucky to not have been on that train. Had I left when I had originally intended to, I would have been, but I stayed around another 10 minutes in the lobby to make a sale and so barely missed the death train…

Most of the summer was spent catching up on show stock arts and crafts as well as trying to recover while making sure bills and everything are taken care of. It’s been hard for me to eat. My stomach is still recovering and I’m dealing with mild to severe nausea. Going to doctor’s appointments and therapy to work everything out. Then comes this trip in Arizona…

I’ve just spent the last 2 weeks busting my ass, hand-drawing a 30 page comic just to say that I could do it and I’m looking forward to some relaxing time. However, I went far past the healthy work threshold, and between the stress, exhaustion, and mental anguish, my body freaked out again. This would be one of my worst battles yet.

I flew in, got set up, and the first day went smoothly for the most part. Then friday evening, I got sick. I don’t think I’d eaten enough…maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the reminders of where I’d come from up to that point…whatever it was, by body wasn’t having it. I won’t go into too much detail but there was multiple panic attacks and screaming/sobbing in the hotel room, uncontrollable vomiting for several days while my body wasted away, there were two trips to the ER, some people on suicide watch, a missed flight, half a week in a piss poor institution that I had no place in being, and severely lost faith in humanity. What I took from it is this - I’m never doing another show in AZ again. Their health care system is fucking garbage. I’m still getting bills that they never even sent to my insurance company because they’re so goddamn bad at what they do. And after all that? STILL NO ANSWERS. Not about me, not about my health condition. I had to FIGHT my way OUT in order to catch my flight back home in time for the Eclipse. And because I’m a sick mother fucker like that, I ended up cosplaying Griffith at RCCC because who doesn’t love getting locked up only to emerge on the dawn of the eclipse?

Coming down off of all of the meds they force fed me was hell. Trying to eat again while still vomiting for days after my return was hell. You know what eventually got rid of the nausea? Soaking. Soaking in a hot hot hot tub. Just soaking…and sipping lots of water….and not puking…and soaking…and cold showers, and soaking…oh my god, why is my body trying to kill me?

Then this month we did RCCC, and numbers are down, but that’s the least of my worries. You know what else is the least of my worries? Stupid people bullshit. For instance, man-children on Twitter telling me what not to say/post. A recently received a message from a youtuber. Not saying any names, but it rhymes with Yorgen Blundersound. The poor child had the audacity to tell me how I ought to speak. And that the regular gifts I send to my art friends were not welcome. Then he proceeded to accuse me of some sort of aggressive promo shit. Listen child, I’ve been running this shit for several years before I was even aware of your misinformed ass. I’m an award winning designer, bitch, I don’t need your help. As far as sending people things, I do that shit all the time. It’s part of what makes art life fun, giving. You know what giving back to your community looks like, right? From here you look like a whiny little kid that doesn’t have his shit together and I would never work with such a temperamental, unprofessional, arrogant little shit like yourself. Congrats on just kind of being an ass I guess. ‘\’o’y

If you’ve made it through this entire thing, thank you for reading and congratulations and understanding why I’ve given so very little fucks nowadays. My life has been full of bone hurting juice. I’m sure things will get better, but please be patient with me as I recover. And if you’re someone in my life who’s only around for the good times, be prepared to get dropped like a hot beat.

I missed the deadline for the Crafty Wonderland winter show, so I won’t be there. We will definitely be at OMSI next weekend for the Mini Maker Fair, and next month we have Portland Retro Gaming Expo. See you there!

ps. i’m adding more jewelry to the etsy shop this week and am looking for a gallery spaces to host my work. Contact me if interested. Thanks.