#so i tried to put a sprinkle of all that in here since it’s relevant to the topic

[wickmitz]

what do you think mitzi’s type in men is?

hmm, this is a fun little ask! especially since her love interests, on a surface level, couldn’t be more different. we have :

zib : former long term boyfriend but not quite … they were very loose with labels, as we know from outside information and the way zib lives life in general. but despite this, whatever feelings fostered between them were intense ; enough so for him to stick around years later, resigned to a chained down lifestyle simply because he doesn’t want to leave mitzi. he’s very loyal in that sense! even if it’s not a conventional type of loyalty. we know that before bitterness seeped inbetween their bond that zib took good care of her, while also being a complete mess of a person ; someone perpetually scared whenever physical conflict is concerned and being a musically inclined man who very much treats himself as a free spirit, with a morbid philosophy and feel towards life. he’s got a major tortured artist aesthetic!! is a little gripped by melancholy and nostalgia … zib is a lot of things, and ambitious is surprisingly one of the many puzzle pieces that make up dorian zibowski.

atlas : ruthless gangster, has an eerie presence that frightens even the people closest to him. he is prone to a more quiet disposition ; never speaking and always a blot of unremarkable grey. but he is an opportunist! someone who can manage a business and take advantage of shortcuts and loopholes to become even more successful … basically he is wealthy and uses his assets well. but all of this is done with a manner of distance, leaving even those closest to him never having the full picture of who he was. it’s also worth noting that mitzi and him had eventual problems, which caused her to seperate. also perhaps has a heart of some kind, but whatever love he possesses is hidden under layers of blood and mystery.

wick : well-to-do bore, and i say this with all the love in the world for wick! but compared to previous paramours he’s rather clean and talkative … there is a constant earnestness to him that bleeds out, an honesty and a more conventional sort of kindness. he doesn’t hide behind smoke and mirrors and there’s never really a front he puts up around mitzi -- or his investors for that matter, hence why he’s treated as an ‘outsider’ so to speak. he is an alcoholic who loathes the details of his job but is more than passionate about the job itself and makes this everyone’s problem … he is a little helpless, in the sense he’d die without someone there to make sure he functions … and is, like zib, perpetually afraid of conflict. can be a little wishywashy and can come across as uncaring due to his cheeky tone … but he’s loyal and caring, with a hobby for the unusual ( bugs and rocks lol ) as well as being able to look past the gossip mill and see the actual mitzi may as he knows her, someone who’s going through a rough time and is either too kind or classy to be a brutal killer. he is hypocritical, a little snobby, and rather forward with mitzi too. kind of a flirt when he wants to be!

something that immediately stands out to me when looking at this lineup is that mitzi doesn’t enjoy a violent man. i don’t think she loathes someone who can so brutally or clinically remove others from this earth, but if she were to go for someone they’d usually be sweeter in a sense. it meshes well with her old personality and kinder heart, perhaps brings it out in her, and that sort of levity and breeziness is more enjoyable than, say, being fully aware of the dangers that lurk around every corner because the man you’re beside is prone to bringing it. she also enjoys more talkative types, someone who’s less quiet and demure and serious, and is keen on her men having a hobby they care deeply for ; some sort of long term goal to work towards doesn’t hurt either. and because of some scenes in the comic, i’m a firm believer that mitzi wants someone who can make her smile or laugh with ease, whether because they’re ridiculous by nature or genuinely funny! she has a sort of funny bone herself, enamored with gallow’s humor and darker jokes, so having someone who either a.) reacts hilariously in the face of her jokes or b.) who can return that energy with teasing or their own brand of silly is desirable. everyone could use a good laugh or two, a sense of joy injected into the bustling life they all live, and this all ties back to mitzi being more drawn towards the less stuffy types of men.

so atlas seems to be an outlier when it comes to her type in many ways, hence the later problems they apparently had in their relationship even if she did love him dearly. but, of course, atlas did have something very appealing to her that zib had failed to give, which she rather fondly recalls in the comic page vestige. whether zib likes acknowledging it or not, mitzi wasn’t as gungho about their normad life as he was … or, at the very least, when she lived another life besides that one, she realized she had a preference! and atlas gave her that path, that knowledge that she wanted something else, and seemingly for the very first time in her life … she felt like a proper lady, a feeling that clearly meant a lot to her. it wasn’t just the dresses or the wealth, it was the constant eye of atlas who could have any dame he wanted, but fancied her his wife regardless. it was having someone so respectable looking, dressed well and groomed well, being able to see her as something other than a sweating, exposed girl in a bawdy dress. atlas’s seemingly polite treatment towards mitzi was enough to garner her affections in spite of everything else, so i think she enjoys that now in others, ; folks who treat her as though she’s a woman in high society, men who don’t gawk at her or make lewd remarks immediately … she probably prefers the courting process now and the quaint dates ( that she doesn’t pay for, mind you ) that come along with it. she just -- likes mutual respect, i think. and who doesn’t? she’s been through a lot to get to where she is now, even if it’s a bad predicament, and she’d like for that to amount to something. some sort of acknowledgment, some kind of recognition.

however, it’s worth mentioning that her views on romance and all that it entails have been warped since the death of her husband. such a loss would change how anyone approaches their dating life, if they were to even have one afterwards … after all, mitzi’s whole problem is that she doesn’t want to move on from atlas and has thus completely romanticized him in her head, to the point that she earnestly believes she’ll be miserable forever without his presence. any problems she had with atlas have long since been erased by her tortured mind, leaving her with a profound misery she’s wallowing in. i think she believes herself as incapble of romantic or sexual inclinations nowdays, leading her to view the advances made towards wick as a necessary ‘evil’ for the sake of atlas may and little else -- when she genuinely does like sedgewick to a degree, and wouldn’t go on dates or kiss a man unless some part of her honestly wanted to do so. ( i also think she was attracted to wick somewhat even while married to atlas, but that’s besides the point ) so this is all a rather complicated affair! she is vulnerable and weak, is too aware of herself and the criminal underbelly squeezing in closer … add this on top of her still heavily grieving and having no one she feels she can talk to, you have someone who is rather changed. mitzi is so far removed from herself and who she truly is, or was, that there’s no doubt it’s affected her type ; now she’ll settle for anyone if they’ll just help her, and even then she’d be dispassionate if romantic entanglement of any kind was involved in that relationship. it’s not something she wants right now, and honestly, it all seems scary and daunting … besides atlas, zib was the only other man she’s ever loved enough to stay around for, so she’s never faced a loss like this before. has kept zib throughout all the turmoil and changes -- so this is, as far as we know, her first major loss where it concerns matters of the heart. it’s not shocking she’s so messed up after it, especially given how fresh it all still is. all of this rambling is to say that mitzi’s a little more stingy and cagey then she used to be about love or sex, and she has a lot of inner battles to face before she can fall for someone and be sure about it. needs to thaw, i think, and she would require patience and understanding from anyone who actually wanted to be with her. mitzi could move on with time ( i do not think she’s the type of widow who’d never date again! ) but it would take quite some time to do so. well, in a world where she’s allowed / is able to heal anyway!

while her type would probably remain the same, i could see her wanting a serious relationship more than she did prior to the death of her husband. has no energy for the loopholes, or the rationalizations, or the fickle nature that can grip someone’s heart. she has matured in a lot of ways since her band days and would take comfort in frivolous things like labels and promises of a future, together, as lovers. while what she had with zib was nice and is cherished alongside the freedom to do as she pleased while on the road with the band, i don’t think she misses it. having the stability and assurance of an actual relationship, with all the hardships that come with it, would be better suited for her. as long as she’s treated like an equal of course! i don’t think she’d be keen on her partner hiding anything from her, even if it’s meant to protect her, due to where that put mitzi when atlas was killed. she’d rather know and be disgusted, or worried, or scared than to not know about something at all until it’s too late … again. naturally patience and compassion would also be of importance, as would the usual things she loves like loyalty and a passion for something in life. and while never required, she’d be happy if the person possessed even a singular musical bone in their body! she still thinks artists, particularly musicans, are sexy after all … likes the angst and brooding that comes with it, the slight flare towards the dramatics … as long as they can handle mitzi in her pitiful entirety and do, to some degree, care deeply for her and will compromise … i think she could find some happiness wherever. bonus points if she can live comfortably for the rest of her days too, lord knows she’s tired of the constant battle of hucking and bargaining.

but yeah! mitzi’s love life is vast and complex and i definitely see her as someone who is more flexible in type than other people are. though there are similarities between her suitors if you really look! anyway, i hope i was able to briefly touch upon this subject because my shipping brain loved your question and kinda went into overdrive, alas. tldr ; her ideal type is wick sable. sorry. once wick learns an instrument the wedding is back on!! … i’m kidding lol. well, mostly <3

[fanterfane]

The State of FanterFane, Now in ADHD!~

HEY YA'LL!

That's something I do now I guess, I say "YA'LL"! Either way, It's time for the first status update since the BIG ONE earlier this year. If you don't remember it or you're new, firstly, welcome, secondly, you can read it here: https://www.deviantart.com/fanterfane/journal/The-State-of-FanterFane-950469980. A lot of what I said here I'm still struggling with, and probably always will be, so it's still relevant. I've been told that several people have been recommended that post by Patreon because of it's high engagement, so I feel especial need to give the algorithm something better to serve. Also, this post is mainly about my struggles with ADHD, but it has other things and status updates sprinkled throughout. If you or someone you know has ADHD, I hope this helps!

For the sake of brevity though, I'll do a TL:DR right here. I developed carpal tunnel two months ago, and I've been working on treating it. It's been going pretty good lately, especially now that I finally have gotten my hands on ADHD medication after my long time lack thereof. As such, I've become much more productive and much, much happier! Things are looking up for me, and I'm hopeful for the future! Social acceptance for who I am now is still sometimes rough, but going better. SFW commissions have done wonders for my mental health, and I have plans for new art projects, commission queues, and more to try and do. I hope that you'll all continue to be the thing I get up for in the morning as I work to accomplish them! I'll be going on vacation next week, and I hope you all have a great summer!

Now for the super long part I don't fault anyone for NOT reading, here we go!

Earlier this year, it felt like I was spiraling down an unrecoverable path. Things I tried to do just wouldn't materialize. I would identify a problem like "My car is dirty" or "My room is messy" or even just "I should read and respond to this DM" and instead of working to solve it my anxiety would start up and make it so that I put it off. What if I messed it up? I was always so tired too, I just felt emotionless whenever I didn't feel sad. What if I just didn't deserve it anyway? What if all of this is a mistake? Those sorts of questions would plague me no matter what, preventing me from solving the very things giving me anxiety spiraling into even more anxiety. It was dumb, but mental health quite often is. It was getting so bad, that writing dialog and even just reading things started feeling like an anxiety induced dyslexic impossibility. For the longest time I assumed it was just depression, and that it would get better with time, but it hasn't over the years. Instead, it's only gotten worse year over year.

Now, I always get a little bit depressed every winter. Seasonal depression gets me down every year without fail, but this year was quite a bit more intense. The struggle between the two lives I live was really getting to me. I'd been doing ever more and more introspection, and discovering all the ways the way I was raised screwed me up definitely didn't help. Repressed memories often have a reason for being repressed. It doesn't help when the people you want to love you the most are the least supportive in your life, and might have even been partly the cause of some of your more unhealthy tendencies. Regardless of their intentions.

A big part of this issue though, I think at least, is that I've been unmedicated for my ADHD since High School. I stopped taking it as a Sophomore because I felt like I was smart enough to pass school without it, and that it wasn't helping me. The stigma against stimulants and medication in general was a big part of that decision. I was not self-aware enough at the time to realize that almost immediately my attention started suffering. It started slowly, too slowly for me to realize it at the moment, but gradually it became harder and harder to pay attention to class work over the years. It got so bad that in order for me to NOT fall asleep during class, I'd doodle on my classwork cause it kept me stimulated enough to stay awake. I'd always made good grades though, so I coasted through highschool on information osmosis and went on to community college, where it really started to catch up with me. Although again, I didn't realize it.

In community college, I had a couple of bad classes that really jarred me. Physics and Calculus. Physics was hard because the teacher was bad at teaching it, and 75% of that class failed the final, so I don't feel very bad about it. But the calculus class though, was the first time I'd ever felt like I'd failed myself in a class. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't understand the derivatives they tried to teach me. I passed, barely, but that was one of the times where I think my ADHD caught up to me, even if I didn't realize it. It wasn't much, but it was definitely a sign of things to come.

Once I got out of community college, I took a gap year between it and a longer stay at a university. During that time, I started trying to work on art more and more as a hobby. I started drawing possession, corruption, femboys, all that sorta  wonderful stuff. Then Covid hit. My gap year turned to two, and suddenly that was long enough for me to have started an actual *career* doing this. Which was beyond crazy to me. It motivated me to no end, I wanted nothing more than to create and have fun creating for all my followers.

In the end though, my ADHD caught up to me. Like it always does. Once the initial honeymoon phase was over, and I settled into the hum and drum of being an online digital artist, it reared its head again.

You see, ADHD is not something that goes away. You may not think about it, but it's always there. ADHD, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, potentially being renamed soon to the ASD spectrum, is a mental disorder affecting the brain's dopamine pathway. People with ADHD struggle because they have less dopamine for everything than most other people do. This either leads to hyperactivity, because you need to do MORE to feel the normal amount of reward chemical (how I was when I was younger). Or it leads to Inattention, because nothing you do feels rewarded or worthwhile (how I am now). There's just physically not enough dopamine being released in my brain for it to function properly most of the time. That's why ADHD is treated with stimulants like Adderall or Vyvanse, because they stimulate the release of more dopamine in the pathways. Making everything feel *right*. My symptoms may have changed over the years through things like masking and other stuff, but I realized recently that it never went away.

At the end of last year, I started watching ADHD Youtube videos that were recommended to me by my friends who also have ADHD. Lo and behold, a lot of what I was struggling with was the poster child of adulthood with ADHD. Anxiety, inability to do basic tasks, procrastination, lack of motivation, etc etc. I was especially hit hard by the concept of "Executive Dysfunction". Executive dysfunction, common with ADHD, impairs planning, task prioritization, memory, execution, and emotional regulation. All things I've been struggling with for years to various extents. Also things that got worse whenever I was depressed.

Naturally, the first thing someone might do to solve this, is get treated/medicated. So that's what I tried. I enrolled in a private health care plan (self-employment doesn't get healthcare through their employer, GO USA) just to find out that it was in the middle of a ADHD medication shortage. I was eligible to get approved for VyVanse, the meds I took when I was a kid, because they were 500$ a bottle. My insurance was 250$ a month. So they denied it, citing that I "Haven't tried the other medications." The ones that I tried getting, Adderall and a couple other ones, were never in stock. Even my friends who already had medication started being unable to get any at all. It was around that time that I made The State of FanterFane post, because this really hit me hard. I'd done everything I was supposed to, but the world still shot me down for it.

Then, on top of everything else, I developed Carpal Tunnel. Which screwed me up even more mentally and physically. Suddenly, even when I WAS motivated (which was getting rarer and rarer) I couldn't even draw then because my wrist was constantly in pain. It really started feeling like things really were unsalvageable. I truly felt without hope for the first time since college, and before that high school. Like everything I had done up to that point was pointless, and only resulted in me sacrificing my health for something that would've never worked out.

...Until the first week of this month, June 2023. When one of my friends was able to get their hands on Adderall again, signaling the end of the shortage. I immediately took my prescription to my local pharmacy, and got my first ever bottle of Adderall XR. I had high hopes for what it would do for me, but the thing I didn't expect was for me to regain hope.

The next day, I took my first dose and proceeded to start deep cleaning and rearranging my entire room. I did laundry, folded clothes, wiped away dust EVERYWHERE, organized my belongings and important files for the first time EVER, unpacked moving boxes that hadn't moved in 2 years and much, much more! Essentially, I turned my entire room upside down over the course of a week. I can't really put into words just how liberating it felt, how finally being able to just see a problem, and then solve it immediately without any anxiety or self-doubt changed *everything*. Even better, every task completed was less anxiety to affect me whenever I felt down or depressed. I can't hate myself for having a messy room when it's so clean, it's literally *rearranged* after all!

To put it simply, it felt like my brain was *working again*. For the first time in literal YEARS. Once I was done cleaning, I moved onto working on art, posting, responding to messages and sorting personal files. These past three weeks have been three of the most productive weeks I've had in a very long time. I feel like I've not been this productive since the initial honeymoon phase of Dullahan Dilemma and the Attenborough collection (callback!). All the while, I got better at treating my carpal tunnel, to the point where it's not constantly pins and needling me anymore, and it even feels just generally better all the time! I've been getting better and better at doing various tasks, and I believe I'm truly on the road to recovery now.

Things from here are looking up! Genuinely! I wouldn't be here either if it wasn't for all of you kind people supporting me, even through the toughest times. I'm beyond grateful for that. I'd worship the ground you all walk on if I could. Without ya'll, I would not be here today. Forgive me for taking on a somewhat political tone, but I have no idea who I'd even be at this point without all of you, and all of my wonderful friends that I’ve met while doing this. Perhaps I'd have fallen deeper into the alt-right pipeline as a disenfranchised southern white guy. Becoming more homophobic and repressing my inner self even more than I already had been my entire life due to my upbringing. That was the only place I felt like I could fit into the conservative worldview my folks raised me in, after all. Maybe I would've gone back to school for a degree I couldn't use and in debt, landing in a terrible corporate job that didn't care for me. At least I would've got health insurance then, but also maybe all of my health problems would've gotten worse and worse and never got better, since I never would've had the motivation to fix them by working out, losing weight, and watching my diet. I honestly don't know, and thinking too deeply about the "what-ifs'' of it is pointless.

But now, what I can say is that when all the anxiety clears and the depression abates, I'm truly happy. For the first time in my life, I feel like I actually have an identity. Like my emotions actually do matter and that I'm not just some soulless machine whose only goal in life is to make money. I'm a human being. Although I may not be created in God's image, I have thoughts, feelings, and most importantly, flaws. I'm gay/bisexual, I'm not very masculine nor do I desire to be so, I like having long hair, and I like doing more effeminate things that most guys in the crowd I was falling into would balk at and blame on chemicals in the water. In other words, I feel healthier than ever. Mentally AND physically. I thank all of you, each and every single one, for staying with me throughout all of this. If any of you ever feel like you wanna reach out, especially if I can help you in some comparatively small way, please do. My DMs are always open, it's the LEAST I can do.

Some other things I should touch on- I've gotten a lot of surprising support for my transition from my extended family and friends. The closest is still the most difficult, I can't get my nails painted for instance, I was told not to when I asked, much to my chagrin. I've got a pride bracelet I've been wearing around, and no one has said anything about it, so that's good I suppose. Fox news still blares on the television in the living room, even after all the stuff that's gone down with *that* channel in recent times. I've given up on trying to convince them otherwise. I’ve been discredited anyway because I draw "X-rated shit", that doesn't make enough money. Even though as far as most people my generation are faring financially, I'm doing pretty good!

The SFW commissions have been going fantastic! Especially on the mental health side of things. It's helped me realize that I do in fact, have options. I'm not trapped doing one thing forever, which is honestly the thing that was scaring me the most. Just like the threat of a soul-draining corporate job till the day I die. I don't have to worry about what I'll be doing in 10 years, because I think I've built enough support and especially self-taught skill that no matter what I do, I'll be okay. It's only up from here, and I've even been feeling the flame of passion returning for TF and other lewdness! So you can for sure expect to see much more of that over the next few years, no matter what!

Speaking of money though, I have more plans for the future now too. I'm gonna make more money by doing more commissions and creating more sources of revenue. Just so that I can afford to move out, and get away from this toxic environment I find myself in. The cheapest apartments where I live run for about 750$ a month, so I'm hoping to save up over the next year and move the hell out. I think I'll be able to afford it, provided there are no extraneous events that hurt me financially. I'll be trying things like more YCH's, sketch commission streams like the patreon request streams, art packs, and maybe even merch! Ya'll be the first to be notified about any of this. The first YCH auction will hopefully be this weekend! It will be based on Nyan Cat possession, and the MC will be trying to run away from the cringey 2000's era meme culture that haunts them to this day. Thing is, the past has a funny way of coming back to haunt you!~

Finally, I'm going on vacation next week to see some friends in LA! If you're someone I know/trust around the LA area, and you wanna meet up, let me know in DMs and we'll see if we can arrange it! I may take a further vacation the week after for rest, but after that we'll be back to regularly scheduled LEWDNESS work!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for coming with me and supporting me on this journey. Happy pride month, and I hope everyone has a great Summer! I love all of you! Here's to several more years of FanterFane!

XOXO,

FanterFane

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, JULY 30, 1992 I’m watching Candid Camera now waiting for my talk show to come on.

Well, today was another good day but it sure was hot and frustrating waiting forever at welfare to fill out a stupid form, get a date, and a letter for the food bank. They gave me a lot of really good stuff at the food bank. More than the churches.

I think I’ll have to go for an appointment on the 3rd. Mark said he’ll take me. I gave him 4 more loaves of bread. Now he’s got bread for months and I have 4 or 5 loaves in my freezer. I sure hope they mail me my food stamps before I run out of the food I got today.

I have other things to write about like Jake, a friend of Fay’s who’s bi. Andy liked his body and his hair but says his face looks devilish. They talked for a long time but there were things about him Andy didn’t like. Otherwise, Andy said he was very interesting and very open. Jake is only into casuals and Andy wants more than that, so it’s all up in the air pretty much. If they can be friends, that’s cool.

There was an awesome storm with neat lightning, thunder, rain and gusty winds at 45 MPH. Mark and I were enjoying it outside our doors as I was sprinkling my unwanted pinto beans in the gravel.

Two missionaries came here looking for Robert upstairs. He was there as I could hear him walking around up there. He didn’t answer his door, though, and Mark and I were busting the missionaries, saying he was an escaped convict profiled on Unsolved Mysteries. Mark told them to put a bulletproof vest on as he’s a psycho man who was in the war.

Around 9:30, I went over to Andy’s and I tried calling Fran but there was no answer. We called Nervous instead and I taped him. We were on the phone till almost 11:00 and I billed the call to Bob.

Jake was telling me I have beautiful legs and a beautiful body.

Ha! My legs are my worse feature, besides my teeth.

He also says in time he could find me a feminine woman for sex here and there. Oh, sure. I don’t want any more good-looking people in my life. I don’t want anything to do with Rosemarie either.

On this talk show, a comment which I’ve heard before got me cracking up. This applies to gays and straights and people looking for one-nighters as well as commitment. That when you’re not looking is when you meet someone. Really? Well, I haven’t been looking and I’ve had only two one-nighters since early 1991 after me and Brenda split up. This is why when it comes to sex, relationships, and careers, I don’t think a negative or positive attitude is relevant. If you think positive about something or someone you really want and bust your ass trying for it, it’s not gonna happen if it ain’t meant to be. We do not make our rules to a degree. God or whatever’s up there does. There are only certain things we can control. We can dump or keep our friends. But who we can and cannot get as friends is beyond our control. We can choose what we eat, what we wear and things like that.

Well, now I choose to go listen to music. After that, I choose to be in bed with an attractive woman and be a professional singer, but God won’t allow that. Maybe in the year 2000. The singer, in the next life.

I began editing Nerv from tonight’s convo. It’s pretty funny as usual.

Later…

I fell asleep around 4 AM last night, and boy was I pissed at 7:45 when I awoke to loud knocking. I thought it was my door, but it was Mark’s friend Lance knocking on his door. I was over there getting Andy more pot and I told him I was royally pissed at being woken up, that I ain’t up that early, so knock softly or on Mark’s bedroom window. I think for the rest of my life I’ll be woken up 1-3 times a week. It just isn’t destined for me to wake up when I want to. Well, it beats being woken up 24/7 in the old project. And never hearing yourself think till midnight-7 AM.

Where is UPS with my packages? Where are my pictures Ma’s supposed to send back? She better send back all 12, too. When are Tammy and Lisa gonna write? She told me a few weeks ago she had letters coming out, so what’s taking so long?

I can’t wait for the rest of my picture collection (of celebs). It’s been two months and a week.

Later…

I just went out to mail a letter to Jayke. The one we worked with at Denny’s in Chicopee. I wrote this letter for Andy when I first got here before I got my own place. He lost her address and he waited for her to write to him and she just did.

On my way back from the mailbox, I saw Albert, Donna’s husband and he said hi. I said hi too, and kept on walking.

I’m gonna be eating dinner at Andy’s at 7 PM. He bought chicken and I supplied the potatoes. He’s very obnoxious to eat with, though. He makes these gross slurping and smacking sounds and it’s pretty impossible to not hear it, even from across the room.

He gave me another tape he no longer wants, so I’ll use it as a blank. I just threw in a CD of Linda’s.

Later…

I’m copying some tapes for Andy and there’s not really much more to say. Only that Fay and I may bring Andy to the airport. Then, on the 3rd when I’ve got to pay SRP and go to welfare and to the store, she may take me.

I went into the Jacuzzi a little while ago. Rick came out on his patio and we said hello to each other. I went up and knocked on their door and no one answered. I said to myself, OK, I’m outa here. They’ve never made any attempts to see me so that pretty much tells me something.

I don’t know what could be going on in their lives and yes, they did seem friendly before, but now I feel like something’s up. Like something’s telling me to just stay away and that it wouldn’t be a wise idea to waste my time with these people.

Andy and Fay are enough for now. Both Andy and I really like Fay. I’ve simply taken so much shit from people and especially the really good-looking people. Rosemarie is a perfect 10 and I swore I’d just hang out with average or below-average-looking people. Also, low-income people.

Well, I just lit my cigarette off the stove. My lighter conked out and I ran out of matches. Nervous quit smoking 8 weeks ago. That’s pretty good but he’s miserable on a daily basis with urges to smoke. Poor guy. But he was getting the beginnings of emphysema.

Later…

Well, I just went to make a collect call to Debbie in Oakwood Knoll and she got her number changed to a non-published one. Barbara never answered. I’m sure they unplug their phone at night. They’re probably thinking, gee she’s all the way in Phoenix and she’s still bothering us! She’s not here to be woken up by us, but she’s gonna wake us up for sure if we don’t unplug our phone at night. A few days ago, I was making collect calls to them and Debbie said my name. I was cracking up afterward.

With my luck, though, they called Tammy or Mary Jane and then Mary Jane called Tammy. If so, Tammy would just say what the fuck do you want me to do about it? But Mary Jane knows how I, Tammy and the rest of my family feel about her and Oakwood Knoll so I think she’d be hesitant to bother. The same goes for Barbara and other tenants. They really drove me up the damn wall there.

Andy will no doubt get a kick out of learning about the new non-published number and about Barbara having to unplug her phone at night. Whenever I call after 10:30 at night there’s no answer and I know they’re there. I’m sure they can’t afford to change their number so they’re willing to deal with it in the daytime. At night they must unplug their phone so as not to be woken up. Meanwhile, they can’t wake me up.

I really must start writing some letters. I need to write to my niece, Tammy and my parents. I will send that cat I drew to Tammy to give to Karen. It came out well. Better than I expected. I have Tammy’s birthday card and my parents’ anniversary card. Next Monday I’ll mail my parent’s card.

What’s taking them so long to send the pictures Andy took? Maybe she’s waiting to show them to Tammy after all. I know she will be there through August 1st – 8th, but when the exact date is they leave and return, beats me. I’m not even sure if they’re driving or flying. I think they’re gonna fly. If Mom does have those pictures when Tammy, Bill and the girls are there, they can all rank on them together. Why is it taking her so long to ship me the rest of my stuff? In a letter to me, she said she’d be shipping them out ASAP. Over the phone, she said it’d take months. She wants me to believe she hasn’t got the money to ship everything at once.

When Andy’s tapes are through, I’m gonna take a walk over with them to his place.

Rosemarie said her birthday is August 6th and I have all those cards ma sent. Half of me says to give her one, but the other half says it wouldn’t look right. Is it a dumb idea? I certainly wouldn’t tell her my mom sent me tons of all kinds of cards, so she’d assume I bought it. But why go out and buy a card for someone you don’t really even know? I think I’ll just go and wish her a happy birthday.

I think I’ll watch Hard Copy and A Current Affair instead. I haven’t seen them all that much lately and I believe Andy has to work tomorrow. If so, he’s gone to bed or is going to bed very soon. Of course, I’ll also watch Candid Camera and the Jane Whitney talk show.

Why are there so many fucking crickets in here? I know they’re harmless, but they sure as hell are annoying. They jump out at you unexpectedly and really make a racket. Current Location: Arizona

TUESDAY, JULY 28, 1992 I am watching Candid Camera now and next is Night Talk with Jane Whitney.

On this talk show, there are “lipstick lesbians” on now. I’ve seen this before.

Earlier I did stop up to see Rosemarie but Rick answered the door saying she was asleep. I would’ve loved to go climb into her bed and join her, but instead, I just told Rick I’ll see them some other time.

Andy and I went to the grocery store where he bought us TV dinners. He also got me some milk, lent me a roll of toilet paper, and brought us some popcorn which we had while we played Crazy 8’s. I’m glad we’re finally playing Crazy 8’s after about 15 years. I wonder what took us so long to get back into it as it really is a lot of fun.

It’s almost 1:30 now so I should really try to get to bed soon. I’m gonna go listen to my music first which I haven’t done all day.

Later…

I got up at 10:30 and then at noon I went to the pool. Andy was there and then he came over and gave me $40 which I gave to Mark & Lance for his pot.

Fay came over too, and she brushed my hair out for me. It looks much better now that I’ve washed and conditioned it. It was all matted down and tangled from the pool. Fay said she’d brush my hair whenever I needed it.

Fay and I played a game of concentration and she said she’d stop by tonight at 7:00. At 8:00, there’s the conclusion of a really good movie I want to see. It’s based on a true story about 4 guys who killed an Indian girl. All the shows are on an hour earlier here. The news is on at 10:00, rather than 11:00. Movies run from 8:00-10:00, rather than 9:00-11:00.

Later…

In an hour I’m going over to Andy’s as we’re both having T-bone steaks. Those are good and I’m starving.

I hope all goes well tomorrow at welfare. And quickly, too. You spend 95% of the time waiting and waiting and waiting. The food bank I need a letter for closes at 3:00 and I hope I don’t have to fill out the form all over again. It’s a long form and they already have all the information they need.

I will not be getting an SSI check anymore. This state has no cash supplement which means my monthly income will be $426. That’s ridiculous. It totally sucks. How do people live that don’t have parents sending them $50 a month?

On the 3rd, I’ll need to go pay my electric bill and my direct deposit better be here. I don’t want to have to stop at the bank for them to get my check from CT. I’ll also have to notify Tammy to close out my account as soon as my SS check comes to my bank here. I’ll also need to call Access and find out why they haven’t mailed me my Medicaid card. I try calling, but it’s always busy.

My main concern is getting my food stamps and seeing how that goes and my electric bill and my overall situation financially. Last month my electric bill was $65 and I need to be sure it doesn’t fluctuate drastically here and there. If it stays around $65, then I can get a phone with Mom’s extra $50. I can’t tell her if I do get a phone, though, as she said she wouldn’t pay the $50 if I do. I know why she really wants me not to get a phone. I wasn’t born yesterday or the day before, but that’s OK.

After Andy returns I’ll take the TAP form to my Doctor.

Mom sent a roll of film which we’ll do up when Andy returns, so she’ll have more to complain about. First, it was my clothes and now it’s the way I pose in pictures. I guess posing in 3 out of the 12 pictures in a really happy, goofy mood is a crime and the end of the world to her. Is this personal or something? Like is she jealous? Sure makes me wonder at times!

Fay wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes from me and I knocked on her door before, but she wasn’t there. At 7:00 I’m gonna have to leave her a note as I’ll be at Andy’s. They both know I’ll be watching the movie tonight but I hope no one else knocks on my door.

Guess there’s not going to be any friendship with Rosemarie. Why is it always me that has to do the approaching, visiting and seeking out of others anyway? I visited them 3 times. Now let’s see them come to me.

All I get is junk mail lately. When am I gonna get some letters? I haven’t heard from anyone. I drew Tammy’s friend Karen a cat. I told her I would a few months ago and it came out nice.

Later…

Soon, I’ll be taking a walk to Andy’s.

I just saw Fay walking her mother’s dog and she said her aunt has a cage full of guinea pigs. I miss having pets. I gave her a pack of smokes and I’ll stop by for a while later.

I guess I’ll go over Andy’s now as I’d like to use his phone.

MONDAY, JULY 27, 1992 I just got back from the pool once again, and Donna was there. My God, I never really realized just what a sick little bitch she is! A very sad and sorry little puppy hiding behind a mask of glory. Why is it that whenever someone else’s life is going shitty, or you’re not what they want you to be, they pretend they’re on cloud 9, contradict all they’ve said and cut you down?

Donna said, “I have lots of friends, everything’s going so great, my husband got a raise, we got a new car, and no friends have ever dumped me like that.” That’s ironic cuz when all was well between us, she told me she hardly has any friends cuz she gets dumped so much. I think she’s just being so vindictive cuz I dumped her when she wanted to be friends.

She was telling me I can’t handle things right and I get upset over stupid things yet there she is freaking out all hysterically. Everyone was looking at her like she was crazy. She told me she got all mad due to the fact that I think she’s pretty. Even fought with her husband about it. Now is that ridiculous or what? Who the hell fights over someone that tells them they’re pretty? What a totally melodramatic waste of time, anger and energy! I mean, come on, grow up! I never realized she was that judgmental and such a backstabber and I am never gladder that I dumped her. I never realized how unstable she is and I meant it when I said all the pretty ones are snobs. She’s got her mind set on what I’m all about and she’s so sure she’s got me all figured out. She says I don’t have a lot of friends and I told her she’s damn right as there are so many contradicting assholes like herself. I cannot believe just how paranoid she is. She can go on thinking she’s wonderful, but as far as I’m concerned, I have no room in my life for people like her.

Fay gave me a poster of unicorns to color and I’m gonna give her a word find puzzle book. I’ve really gotten to like her and enjoy our talks.

I’m also tempted to visit Rosemarie but after dealing with people like Donna, it makes me wonder once again if I’m not better off just minding my own business. I don’t know what to do. It’s all so asinine and stupid. I’m so sick of people but I guess I can do what I did to Donna if I need to. If I ever meet anyone who turns out no good, I’ll just dump them. Including anyone I currently know. The most shocking thing isn’t the low blows someone can give you as I am very well used to that. What’s shocking is how quickly someone can change from one extreme to another.

Later…

I just helped Fay fill out a 19-page form. It’s information on her son James, herself and her family for a therapist. I feel for those who are slow and have learning disabilities like she does. Life isn’t fair for all those who have so many ordinary things they’d like to do, other than being a singer, yet they’ll never be able to. And then there’s me, a quick learner with the abilities, but who doesn’t want to be anything other than a singer. Either way, I told her to never hesitate to ask for help with something if she needs it. It made me feel good to be able to help her.

SUNDAY, JULY 26, 1992 Yesterday was a very good day. I continued to get more color and I swam all day. I spoke with Fay and briefly saw Rosemarie. I didn’t want to seem so pushy and smother them. I know what it’s like to need breathing space. I didn’t want them to feel like I was invading their daily lives. I never went up to their apartment, but when I was in the pool Rosemarie came out onto her patio. I called out hi and asked if she was gonna go for a swim. She said she didn’t feel like it and that was it. They did say that they’d come see my place sometime.

Last night at 7:30, Andy and I went in Mark’s truck to get that bed. It’s a twin-size bed but very comfortable. It really felt good to get off the floor. I gave Mark his foamy thing back but that sure saved me from feeling like I’d break all my bones, even though I have nice plush thick carpet. I slept very well. In fact, I even fell asleep at 1 AM, maybe earlier. I woke up at 8:30. Yesterday I woke up at 10:30.

After we brought the bed back here, Andy gave me a twin-size sheet. I can easily still use mine by tucking it in between the mattress and the box spring. I do have a frame but it’s missing a clamp. There’s no hurry for it, but it’d be nice to eventually have for a few reasons. One is it’d raise the bed up a little higher and my quilt wouldn’t be on the floor as much. Two, it’d be on wheels and easier to move. Three, I could store stuff under the bed.

I took Andy’s vacuum and used that and now my place looks so cute. Now, all I have to worry about is getting my food stamps which Andy will take me to reapply for next Wed. I also am dying to get a phone. I must first get situated financially and get my food stamps.

Later…

Fay came over. She found a white dress in the dumpster that fits me perfectly. It’s a little too long, though and it looks almost like a wedding dress. It has a few stains but ones that aren’t overly visible. It’s got long sleeves of white lace and the rest is solid white. There’s a lining inside but the outside is like chiffon. Streaming down the back to the floor is a piece of chiffon and there’s also a lace bow in front. Even with heels, it’s still just a wee bit too long so whoever wore it was also a size 3, but maybe a few inches taller.

Fay also found this tiny, colored pillow I had for a long time that I threw in there. I gave her two other little ones Ma sent. She’s got a bad back so she uses it for that.

Later…

Last night after I vacuumed and fixed up my bed, Andy and I played Crazy 8’s. Something we haven’t done since we were kids.

It’s time to write everyone’s letters. A lot has happened since I last wrote. I sure can say one great thing, though, and that is that I haven’t had but a few bad days since June 9th! That was all over money, of course.

Now after being here as long as have I can now truly feel a difference in my asthma. Sure I still wheeze and wake up a little congested. But I no longer sneeze my ass off like there’s no tomorrow. Overall I feel so much better and now I know firsthand why they recommend that asthmatics live here.

I will wait to reschedule my appointment for my pap smear and also have him fill out the TAP form (Telephone Assistance Program) to waive my installation fee.

After Andy returns from home he’ll take me there, and we mutually agreed and compromised on one thing. That is that until it gets cooler, he’ll drive me places, but rather than wait around forever, he’ll go home and I’ll call him when I’m through.

I hope next Wednesday I can get a letter to go to the food bank. There, they gave me quite a bit. At the church, Mark took me to, however, they didn’t give all that much.

Later…

So far today I’ve gone to the pool by Rosemarie 3 times and I just came back from the other pool.

I was walking out my door at the same time Fay was walking out hers across from me. Fay and her son James and I were headed to the “Rosemarie” pool when we saw how it was infested with little kids, so we took off for the other pool. That pool was crowded too, but not nearly as mobbed as the other one was. On weekends it’s pretty crowded. At night during the weekdays, it’s ok.

At the other pool, I ran into Stephanie. Pez screwed her over and now she’s got a new roommate also from New York like Pez and Stephanie. I’ve met her before and she’s sort of pretty but she’s straight, according to Steph.

It’ll be a long long time before I see another woman as gorgeous as Rosemarie. They’re far and few between in my opinion.

I told Stephanie that Andy told me she used to pay Pez $15 to clean her bathroom. I told her not to hesitate to ask me if she needs help cleaning. If I were to only clean her bathroom once a week for $15, that’s $60 extra a month! That’d be great but I know better than to count on it, even though she said she’d let me know when she gets her paycheck.

She also said she’d come check out my place and mentioned going to clubs. I told her I’d go to clubs with her if she needed someone to take along, but she stood Andy and I up last time. She said some serious shit went down that night, so we’ll see how reliable she is.

There’s a little part of me that’s tempted to go visit Donna. She’d be happy if I did, I guess. She really wanted to be my friend, but then I dumped her. Afterward, I swore I’d make no more friends and acquaintances - Fay, Stephanie, Harriett, Debbie, Robert, Mark, all the maintenance people, Dave the security guard, Rosemarie, Rick, and so many others I don’t know by name. With most of these people, I didn’t even initiate the conversation. They began to speak to me. Lots of people strike up conversations with me. Males, females, kids, young and old. I haven’t seen Ellie, though.

Last night I ran into Angel and Grace. We had a quick yet nice chat. Angel still hasn’t had her baby yet. They were just taking a walk and I invited them in to see my place all fixed up.

I told her that I wasn’t ever angry at her and that I’d been worried about money, but that she still had a friend in me. I apologized for seeming to have pushed her away and shut her out. She said she had thought about stopping by but has been busy.

Later…

I’ve never met so many people at once other than in schools or funny farms! I was just at the pool and I met a guy named Chuck, his Vietnamese girlfriend Lily and his son. I forgot his son’s name but they were all very nice. It seems I can just stand in the corner and not say anything and people will talk to me. I guess it’s a lot easier to socialize at pools as opposed to someplace like a grocery store.

Mark and his friend came home. The one who hooked up my VCR and asked me out to the movies. Lance is his name. I still can’t program into the VCR all the channels I want to record. I guess there’s a certain cable I need for that. Lance mentioned giving me one he didn’t need. Maybe he forgot or hasn’t had time. Or maybe he isn’t bothering cuz I turned his “movie offer” down.

I want to wait a little while before visiting Rosemarie again. I don’t know exactly how long, but although they said their place is always open to me, I do not wish to wear out my welcome. I’d also like to see if they come over here. I’m still so shocked at how friendly and open they are. They also said they were glad I was open about being gay. They really seemed to like my personality and were very into discussing my music and all about me. Every time I asked them about themselves, they’d say they were boring and had nothing to say about themselves, then ask about me.

Later…

There’s gonna be a good movie tonight I’ll want to see, but I’m sure I’ll be interrupted. I can’t record it yet. I’ll ask Andy what he thinks about that and what I should do.

FRIDAY, JULY 24, 1992 Well, I sure had an adventurous last two days! I’ll save the best for last. First, I met this girl, Fay, who I’ve seen around here a lot. She sort of reminds me of Tracy K, although she’s not quite that ugly. Close though. I’d never touch her, even though she’s bi. She’s got a boyfriend and a son but she’s had threesomes and lots of woman fantasies. She’s very tall and heavy with very short hair.

Later…

I just stopped for a while cuz Andy came over. I gave him Julie B’s letter which he’s gonna mail when he goes home from August 1st – 8th. He’ll be spending most of his vacation at the beach. Julie is a friend of Velma’s. Or was. She’s a hairdresser like Velma but she did some things to piss Velma off. Velma says she will hear all about the letters and get a good kick out of it. We just wrote a bunch of strange stuff. Nothing too scandalous.

I also played Andy a CD of Stevie Nicks.

Tomorrow between 4:00-4:30 we’re gonna go to Donna’s place for the twin-size mattress she’s got, I guess. We’ll see, but if she stands me up I’ll never count on her for shit again. We’re gonna go in Mark’s truck.

I spoke with Mark yesterday and also met a friend of his. His friend asked me out to the movies with him but I told them I was gay. Mark said no problem, but he hates gay guys. He said, however that cuz he’s my friend he’ll be cool. I said he better be cuz Andy’s not the least bit attracted to him and not to flatter himself. Also, anyone who fucks with my friend is fucking with me.

Mark and I also went swimming yesterday and today he brought me to a church to get food till I can reapply for food stamps. They usually have a Spanish interviewer there but he was out at the time. Two women spoke no English so I interpreted for them.

When Fay came over she had a piece of cheesecake for me. It was really good. We chatted here, then I brought her to Andy’s and we got some wrong numbers. We had some fun with those. I chatted with her today and told her all about my visit to Rosemarie and Rick’s place. It went super well, too. I’ve been pretty psyched about that. I told Fay how I felt about her before I finally got to meet her and talk to her last night.

When I get back from the pool, I’ll write all about it. Right now, though, I really am dying to go for a swim.

Later…

I am going to bed soon so I’ll write a little bit about Rosemarie and Rick. I was over to their place yesterday and today and I really like them both very much. I was a little nervous last night but tonight I felt much more relaxed. We all laughed and joked and talked about many things. Not sure I liked Rick’s joke about my being cheap cuz I’m Jewish, though. Don’t get me wrong. I can take a joke. But was it purely a joke, or was he being serious in some way? His tone made me wonder.

Most people blush when they’re around people they’re attracted to, so I thank God I’m fried with lots of color all over to hide it. My face would’ve been as red as it is from the sun. I’ve gotten a lot of color too.

My first night there, I noticed how they were really determined to get to know me. They really wanted to know all they could about me. They insisted I stay and talk and they said I was welcome to their place anytime. They were really coming at me from all different angles, attacking me with several questions. Their curiosity was genuine, not phony. They seemed very truly interested in all I had to say. Rosemarie kept asking me to sing and asking questions about that.

It at least seemed that they were open-minded and sensitive and very accepting. I even had no problem telling them of my being on SS.

Last night, before I went over there, I had to think of an excuse. I know this was being a little dishonest, but I told them some girl knocked on my door telling me Rosemarie had something to tell me. Next time I see them, Andy’s friend pulled this “joke” on me is what I’ll say.

I told Andy all about last night. Next time I see him, naturally I will fill him in on tonight’s visit which was 10 times better. Rosemarie brought up the subject of a boyfriend, so that’s when it all came out. Right away they were quick to reassure me that they did not think any less of me cuz of how I am but they did have a zillion questions for me. I told them to ask away and that I’m used to answering tons of questions and am very open about it.

Eventually, we were laughing and joking about everything from this butch who used to live near them to the underwear my mom sent that could cover her car. Rosemarie said there were two gay women next to her. One was feminine and nice, the other a mad, bitchy, jealous butch. She used to give Rosemarie dirty looks and Rosemarie said she was terrified of her.

Rosemarie also knows I’m very attracted to her. I am so glad we met. She and Rick are so friendly. They are very accepting of me. For Rosemarie being as pretty as she is, she’s so nice! I know I’ll never get her in bed but I do want to be friends with her as long as possible.

Well, now I think I’ll go listen to music before I go to sleep. I sure hope I’m sleeping in a real bed tomorrow night!

WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 1992 I know I’m wasting my time chasing Rosemarie, but hey, it’s fun. Andy also believes she’s got a boyfriend that she lives with, but it won’t be the first or last time that I’ve wasted my time.

I got a lot of color back yesterday that I had begun to lose. It looks good. When I returned to the pool, Andy was there. We had a very nice talk and I said all the things I wanted to say. He listened. I listened to him too, and simply told him I don’t want to fight with him or anyone else.

Those two girls from Terros, Sheryl and Annette, will be here at 7:00 this evening. I’ll have some happier things to say than the last time. My place also looks much better, too.

TUESDAY, JULY 21, 1992 Earlier I got my second set of shelves. I used them in the living room and it looks so much better now. The whole place looks great, even the walls. I’ve always been good at decorating.

I managed to stay up until 4 PM and sleep until midnight. More and more I wish I could be up during the days. Even if I had nothing to do. At least I’d have the pools and I’d feel better. Also, if I did have something to do, I’d be able to be awake for it. Well, Andy said he never could be a day person if his life depended on it till this year. Hopefully, that’ll happen to me even though right now that seems impossible, but who knows?

Later…

I just ate and ran off the dishes. The dishes here don’t get really clean and I was told it has nothing to do with the dishwasher. It’s Arizona’s water. California has the same problem. There’s supposed to be something you can buy to put in the water or the dishwasher, but I don’t know what.

As I saw Mark walking towards his place, I tapped on the slider and waved hello. He knocked a few minutes later for a light for his cigarette. He came in and saw how I’ve decorated since getting my shelves. Said it looks so girlie. Yeah, it does.

I’ve got an hour or so yet before the pool opens. I’m psyched to get on with my tan. I’m losing what I had. Mark’s gonna blow up my raft sometime.

All I keep thinking about is Rosemarie. I know she’s straight as a pin, but I like to seek, chase and do my homework and detective work even though I get absolutely nowhere. She is the ultimate attraction for me. Ann Marie was no second best but she sure is compared to Rosemarie. All in all, God will never grant me that much. It just ain’t meant to be and will never happen for one night. As I’ve learned, just cuz you’re positive or want something bad enough doesn’t mean you’ll get your way. If you pray for something you want or bust your ass trying to achieve it and it’s not in the cards, you’ll never get it. If Rosemarie were meant to be, God would send her my way whether I wanted her or not.

I saw her yesterday morning for the first time in the bright sunlight. She’s so beautiful. I can tell so even though I’ve still never seen her close up. I was in the pool and she walked around the fence obviously on her way to work. She seems like a very friendly person. I could be wrong, though, since I don’t know her and everyone seems nice till you get to know them. We said hello to each other and she asked how I was. She also said hi to two elderly ladies and I don’t even think they know each other.

Right after that, I ran back to my place to see what time it was. It was 7:55 AM. Well, at 7:45, I will head over there and sit down on the bench.

I have makeup on and that sundress Donna gave me. My hair is all brushed out, too.

It’s fun, but on the other hand, I know I’m completely wasting my time. I think she’s with a guy. Well, it isn’t the first time I’ve thought of someone who never thinks of me. It won’t be the last either. I want her sooooooo bad. At least I hope to try to get to know her and be friends with her. It’s better than nothing and I doubt there’s any way she could be bi, let alone gay. Yes, she’s a neighbor and yes, she’s got a job. But this is an exception I can’t pass up.

MONDAY, JULY 20, 1992 I am just slowly beginning to wake up. I slept like a log from 12:30 PM-8:30 PM, but I am still groggy. I guess that’s good, though, as it’ll keep me up longer tomorrow if I take my time waking up.

I hope I get the rest of my stuff soon and a letter from my nieces. It’d also be really nice to hear from Kim, Bob, Fran or Nervous but that’s wishful thinking.

I’m gonna call SSI and the food stamp people out here. I should hopefully be able to reapply over the phone. I’ll also call about seeing a therapist and reschedule my doctor’s appointment for my pap smear. This Wednesday I’ll be through with the antibiotics and will be able to continue on with my tan.

My TD has been really pissing me off. Since being on the antibiotic it’s been worse. Some medications can make it worse. My TD also acts up and becomes worse when I’m tired or upset, but we���ll see if it subsides a bit when I finish the antibiotics.

The gay bars – well – I went to two of them and they shocked the shit out of me just as the shrinks in Natchaug did. Just when I thought nothing more could shock me. Back east it was 95% butch and a very occasional feminine woman. Here, there were lots of butches but also feminine ones mixed in. There weren’t tons and tons of them, but there sure was enough. More than a few. For the first time, I felt like I had the same variety as gay men do.

I met these 5 girls named Becky, Carmen, Carol, Holly and Lori. I gave them all my number or Andy’s number, I should say, but did they call me after telling me how pretty and nice I was? No. Of course not. Whatever’s up there is determined to let me only have two one-nighters a year.

I was also shocked at all these people who say they want relationships. And after I tell them I only want one-nighters here and there so they won’t feel threatened or scared that I’ll smother them or put strings on them. Yet I still get nowhere.

Why are people so afraid to pick up the phone? If they really want to check into someone, why don’t they put any effort into it? Why is it always me that does the seeking and approaching? The only one that approached me was one that wasn’t ugly, but not in the least bit attractive, naturally. What else is new? To tell the truth, though, after dealing with more and more shit with people, I’m glad they never called. Donna and Andy reminded me just what I’d be in for.

The only ones out of those 5 that I may have been attracted to enough to sleep with would’ve been Carmen and Becky and maybe Holly. Not Carol or Lori. I highly doubt they called during this shit with Andy. If they did he may be spiteful and immature enough to not tell me, but if that is the case, he’s done me a great favor and has spared me more bullshit. I don’t think he’d be mature enough to leave a note on my door at least, no matter how I felt about meeting them. But I’m completely turned off after his and Donna’s shit. Even with pursuing Sonja who’s never called back after I spoke to her. We had an OK talk too, or so I thought.

Wait till my sister calls. He can’t wait, no doubt, to go on and on crying on her shoulder. She won’t fall for it and knows better but if she questions me I’ll tell her it’s our problem and our business. I’m sure Velma and all his other friends have heard all about it on a daily basis. Well, enough of Andy, but I’ll say one last thing. That is I give what I get and if he can go back on his word so can’t I. That means I ain’t cleaning his place worth shit!

SUNDAY, JULY 19, 1992 I got the $50 from Mom and that was great. I really needed real food. All I had was stuff like bread, cereal and pasta, and I get sick of the lack of variety. I can’t get away with not eating right anymore.

I still haven’t gotten anything in the mail from Tammy or Lisa and I also haven’t spoken to Andy. I did leave him the $10 stamps I owe him and $10 in cash. My God his place reeks! How can he live like that? His place always reeks and is a pigpen. The way people live really reflects a lot about them. We both have had our depressing times and my place is sometimes a little trashed. But if you compare each other’s definition of “trashed,” they’re completely different. Even when I’m miserable I still usually have my place nice and my appearance too, if I can help it. He, on the other hand, always is a mess. That tells me something. I just cannot stand those that contradict everything they say. I feel so misunderstood by him. Part of it is that he’s got a lousy memory. Maybe cuz he smokes pot. The other part of it is his stubbornness. You’re a liar if he doesn’t want to accept, hear or believe something you’ve said.

I hate people who are so verbally abusive and think they can cut you down when they’re miserable, pretending to be king of the world and the happiest son of a bitch alive. I can see through that, not that he’d ever own up to it. He has said how he’s bitter and lonely and hates people and wants to lash out at them and treat them like shit. I can very much relate to those feelings too, but not with what’s supposed to be my best friend. Can’t people spare their best friends? We’re either gonna be enemies with no contact or friends that treat each other like friends. I’m not gonna go back and forth with him as we did in Springfield. It’s normal to fight here and there, but I won’t tolerate such shit like his on a regular basis. If he ever found anyone for a relationship, he’d never make it work more than a week any more than I could. Also, just like me, he’d attract the wrong kind of person, but for a totally different reason than me.

Later…

I got some of my old edits from Andy and duped them. He also gave me a tape of his best calls for me to edit. I’ve begun that as well as other editing. He and I have made some calls from his place. I still have lots of editing to do, but I always have more stuff to edit. I edited down all my convos with several different folks and left a few blanks for taping convos. Then I edit out anything boring onto another tape.

I still have to reapply for food stamps and set up something with a therapist. I sure hope there’s an agency that makes home visits. It’d be so much easier. I have a number to call that two counselors gave me the night I was all freaked about money. I ran in a panic to the payphone and cuz I didn’t know who to call, I called 911. I spoke with the dispatcher for a while and then she connected me with Terros. The police routinely come out first, then they send Terros out. I’ve seen these same two cops twice and this woman twice. I forgot her name but she had a different male partner with her each time she came out. I’ve forgotten all their names, except for Sheryl and Annette. They do a weekly follow-up for a month or so and they were the ones who came out last Wednesday. They’re gonna be here again next Wednesday on the 22nd at 7 PM. Annette’s white and Sheryl’s black and I don’t know why, but I really liked Sheryl. It almost seemed like it was mutual from what I sensed. It’s not that she’s gorgeous but something was there. Of course, I plan to keep my mouth shut.

Most types of people with real jobs that I’ve always seemed to click with are cops and security guards, like Dave here for example. He’s 40-something, I guess and is very nice to chat with. On weekends he’s here at night. He locks the gates at the pools at midnight. He’s here at night on weekdays too, as I’ve seen him lock the pools up at 10 PM. The pools open early in the morning but on weekends it’s open till midnight. I wish they were open 24 hours on my schedule, but there’d be lots of loud wild parties and no one near the pool would ever sleep.

After I got my $50 today, Mark next door took me to Fry’s, the grocery store right near here. He said to let him know whenever I need rides. That’s great as there’s no way I can walk in this heat with or without asthma. Early in the morning, nothing’s open and I never would walk at night. Can’t tell Andy that, of course.

Today it was 112º. Tomorrow it’ll be 110º.

Later…

I was just sitting here thinking of several things here and there about this and that. I can’t wait till I get the other pictures. It’s been almost two months. Also, I’m really looking forward to that second set of shelves ma’s sending. I’ll use them out in the living room.

I wish Arizona paid as much as MA did between the two checks. In MA it’s $581. In CT and AZ it’s $442 cuz it’s cheaper to live here.

I really wanted a 1-bedroom. That’s what I’m used to and I need the extra space. Especially the extra closet space. I’ve seen them and they’re so nice. Perfect. I miss being on the top floor, too. My place, though, minus furniture looks nicely decorated. Now that I’ve got shelves, tables and chairs, the only other thing I need is a bed. A twin would be fine as it’s just me, although you can fit a double bed in there and I’d still have room for my shelves. Luckily I do not have my old queen-size waterbed. That would definitely not fit in there. A color TV that’s a little bigger would be nice too, but no big deal and certainly not the end of the world.

I am now just about completely updated. All I need to write about are these two lesbian bars I went to a few weeks ago. Also, 3 more drop-dead gorgeous girls I met at the pool. I mean, they are all a 10+! LaDon, Lisa and Rosemarie. Rosemarie looks the most like Gloria out of any others I’ve met, though I think she may be Italian. I haven’t spoken to her much yet, just exchanged a few hellos and mentioned that she looked like Gloria. She says she’s told that all the time. Late-night two nights ago at the pool, I met LaDon and Lisa. They’re gorgeous too. All 3 of them have bodies that look like models. They’re perfect from head to toe. Their teeth, flat bellies, and straight thighs. Standing next to them makes me look below average when I know for a fact that if I’m compared to the average female, I’m doing pretty well. The typical, usual bummer of it all is that I’m sure they’re all straight as an arrow.

Cigarette break now, then I will write about those bars. Then, I shall finally be all up to date unless there’s a little detail here and there that has slipped my mind.

SATURDAY, JULY 18, 1992 Well, I never did get to bed after the last time I wrote. I felt really shitty and couldn’t stop worrying about money. I called Ma and I should get $50 soon. She’ll send that monthly along with a box of non-edibles that food stamps can’t buy. That really brought me a lot of relief and then I jumped in the pool. When you’re trying to stay up cuz your schedule keeps changing, there’s nothing like having a pool. It really revives you when you jump in. It’ll be easier to change schedules here. If you need to stay up all day to try to sleep at night, you can lie out by the pool all day and relax. You won’t sleep that way but you won’t be overexerting yourself in any physical way.

In a half-hour, I’m gonna watch Little House on the Prairie.

Earlier at 9:30, I ordered a pizza that never came till 11:15, so I got it for free and saved $7.14.

I wish I had a little microcassette recorder. This way I can speak about all the subjects I want to write about without forgetting them if several days pass by before I write. At least I do have a fairly decent memory that I know I can rely on. It’d still be great to have a microcassette, though, as that way no details would ever slip my mind here and there. Many times, say I’m at the pool, for example, I’ll remember something I want to write about, but when I do write I forget. If I brought a microcassette recorder around with me to most places I go, I can speak little notes in bits and pieces of the subject, then play it all back whenever I decide to write.

FRIDAY, JULY 17, 1992 In 1984, this is the day I walked free from Valleyhead. It was my last walk down Reservoir Road and I didn’t even know it. But I told myself I’d be damned if I’d return. I was a junior staff who had graduated. I’d done my time there.

Denise, my best friend there was taken in by Michelle. Michelle was my favorite teacher there. Michelle also despised Donna and her psycho sister Margaret. Also Barbara. She left for the same reasons any student there can’t wait to leave. She saw and knew how the kids there were treated.

I haven’t seen Andy since last Wednesday. All people want to do is fight, fight, fight. No one can let anyone be themselves. They flip out over the most stupid things. They knock you down when you’re already down. For a girl that expresses herself well and communicates well, I sure seem to be so misunderstood. I don’t want to fight with anyone. All I want to do is be happy. I try my best to get along with people but they’re always so determined not to get along with me. When are people gonna stop fighting with others so those who don’t want to fight and argue don’t have to?

I know I’m doing the right thing by avoiding Donna and Angel. And Andy agreed with me before all this happened that it isn’t always too smart to get involved with your neighbors as lucky as I sometimes was in Springfield. Who wants hostility so close to home? Plus, in Springfield, the only place to be was in your apartment. Here, I’m always at the pool and it’s harder to avoid people you don’t like or who don’t like you when you’re at the pool constantly.

A little over a month ago, I met a woman named Kathy at the pool. No, she wasn’t a butch as most Kathy’s, Carol’s and Karen’s seem to be. In fact, she was OK-looking. She’s got 3 kids. Her fiancé is a maintenance guy here. We chatted briefly at the pool and she told me she was home all day and could use some company. She gave me her apartment number and told me to come by anytime I wanted. I stopped at her place once for 15 minutes and I’ve never seen her since. She never said or did anything to scare me off but I know how all friendships are cool in the beginning, then take a turn for the worst. All is well when you begin anything, then it changes. If it doesn’t become a horrible situation, it gets boring. Maybe friendships are just as bad as intimate relationships after all.

Sometimes people are hard to avoid. Especially when you don’t plan on talking to them, but they talk to you. I did consider staying away from people with jobs and thought maybe it’d be better if I pursued more people on SS and SSI. I’m not ashamed to be on SS and SSI but so many people with jobs are bashing and knocking people like me. I don’t hate myself and I know I’m not stupid. However, when I tell people I’m on it when they ask what I do, they paint themselves a pretty bad and false picture.

I’ve written before about how one can only change the way they feel about certain things but not all things. How I wish I wanted to be anything else as bad as I want to be a singer. Sometimes, I look at all these people with jobs and wish I could love something else like I love to sing or be able to settle. I wish I had some sort of responsibility and a reason to get up every day. But even if I were a day person and had a decent job, I would have to constantly have to deal with people. I’m sure that no matter how well I did my job and kept my mouth shut that someone would stir up trouble for me.

There are a lot of people, though, on SSI and SS and everyone’s got their fair share of worries, fears, doubts and problems. I’ve been seeking out a somewhat “lower” class of people lately. No one on drugs or overly crazy, but low- or no-income people. People that are in my present situation, and if they have a similar background, that makes it even better. I used to try to seek out people who are fairly financially and emotionally stable with a better background. But these are the people who look down on me and feel they can do better, whether I hated myself or not. Opposites don’t attract.

Yesterday at the pool, as I was unlocking the gate, a woman called out, “Hi there,” as if we were old friends. Well, she’s 48, on SSI and SS, has lots of problems, is depressed and dead broke. Her name’s Ellie and she also has no car so we may walk to the store tomorrow. Normally, I wouldn’t coldly reject or try to change Ellie as many others would, but I’d be reluctant to get too close. I’d be thinking - can’t I do better than this? I’ve matured, presented myself better, don’t talk too much, remain evasive about my past and present life and don’t hate myself.

Later…

I went to see my primary physician here and he gave me Amoxicillin. I can’t wait till I’m off of them so I can continue with my tan before I lose what I’ve begun so far. I thought I had a yeast infection downstairs but instead, I have a bacterial infection. He couldn’t even do a pap smear as I am so tender there now. I’ll have to go for that after I’m through with my antibiotics and to make sure I don’t acquire a yeast infection since antibiotics can cause them.

My mom said she’d send me $50 a month and I hope she does soon as I’ve only got $5 until the end of the month. I really dreaded calling mom and telling her what’s been going on financially as she’s done a lot already but she was very understanding. I still must reapply for food stamps and hope I have a little extra money here and there once I get settled. I tried and fought for my SSI check but it’s hopeless, even though I was not overpaid.

There are so many non-edible things that add up, so even with food stamps, there’s never enough cash. I want to give Andy some money as soon as I can and God only knows if I’ll ever be able to afford a phone. The next few months are gonna be a struggle but I hope I’ll be OK. It’ll relieve the bulk of my stress if I don’t have to keep worrying about money. I still don’t know what SS is gonna do to my check.

I sent mom 12 pictures Andy took which came out fairly nice for a change. I told her to copy whatever she wants, then send them to Tammy. Have her do the same, then send them back to me so I can throw them into my collection.

I got some really nice packages from mom and dad. My pictures, typewriter, some papers, records and one guitar aren’t here yet. They sent my vacuum, one guitar, two quilts, two more bathing suits, shoes, suntan lotion, hair accessories, coupons and a small black and white TV. Also a lamp and two hideous shorts and shirt sets. Worse than conservative. I mean tacky, geeky, baggy and dull colors. That and a couple of pairs of cotton granny panties.

She also sent a table and two folding chairs. She asked me if I wanted the other two chairs and I said no. The two I have are enough. I like this so much better than my old kitchen table and chairs. They were getting old, dingy and beat up. It’s blue and matches my carpet well. The top of the table is soft leather-like material. To go with it she sent 4 mauve-colored placemats. The chairs are hard but there are two floral cushions you tie on to make them softer and more comfortable.

She also sent a raft and I was gonna sleep on that. I had figured it’d be wider but it’s too narrow for me to sleep on. Mark next door said I can continue using the foam mattress he lent me.

She sent me 5 plastic shelves just like the ones I used to have. That was fantastic so I could get shit off the floor. She’s gonna send another set which I’ll use in the living room. This set I put in the bedroom.

THURSDAY, JULY 16, 1992 Once again, I really need to get my ass in gear and write daily. I have so many fantastic things to write about and so many shitty things to write about. Well, why not start with the shitty stuff and save the best for last.

I’m listening to the original “complex” argument with Fran and Nervous. Thank God Andy had this even though it’s only 90 seconds long. It was always my favorite and it’s very funny.

Right now I am very disgusted and pissed off at Andy. I thought he changed. All he kept telling my parents and I is how he’s become more giving as far as car rides, for example. He told me to make any appointments I needed to make on his days off and he’d have no problem taking me. In these 115º temps, I cannot walk, even though the grocery store and the bank are very close. I’m not used to this heat yet and need to wait till it becomes a little cooler. He said that was no problem and understood. The other day he went back on his word and insisted I could walk in this extreme heat. He’s been going back on his word on so many things and bitching at me for doing or saying things that he himself does or says as well.

He’s lied to me and my parents about a few things and that has me wondering what else he’s said that may be a lie.

All he does every day is bitch about how stressful work is and the zillions of reasons why he hates his job. Yet I have never condemned him for it or said things to him like, “Shut up about it,” and “Don’t let it get to you,” and “Just smile and be happy.”

All he’s ever said to me since he’s been here is that he’s miserable and depressed. But yesterday he turned around and said he’s always happy and he wants to be around happy people, and that I should be happy all the time myself. Then he goes back to telling me how much he hates people and doesn’t want friends. How he wishes he could stand in a corner and never say anything to people. How he can’t be himself and is lied to and led on. I told him I feel the same way and that I stay isolated so I can be myself. But yesterday he bitched at how I’ve got a wall up around me and I’ve got to make friends because all the bullshit friends go through is worth it. In the next breath, it’s not worth it at all.

He’s offered me things I never asked for like to eat dinner with him. He’s knocked on my door and said he was on his way to the store, would I like to come along? Later he said how he shouldn’t have fed me or driven me to the store. Then why the fuck did he do it?

Then after bitching at me about how I don’t get out and live life, he goes right back to talking about how he’s gotta be alone and have space. He says that after a stressful day at work he’s gotta be alone and I shouldn’t come over every day. Any time he’s asked me to leave, I have. I gave him a ribbon to tie on his doorknob if he doesn’t want to be bothered. But he bitched about his space after I gave him the ribbon and that problem was fixed. He is a very sad, lonely miserable guy who cuts people down while pretending to be happy and king of the world. He’s told me how he wants to burn people and feels bitter just like I do. But why is he taking his shit out on his friends? Burn someone who burns you or pick up the phone, I told him!

He and so many other people continuously have to tell me what to think, say and feel. If I say I like the color pink and for whatever reason Andy can’t handle that, I’m a liar. As far as he’s concerned, I really don’t like the color pink if that’s the way he wants it.

I dumped that girl Donna cuz she too, started to judge me and assume shit when she doesn’t even know me. All she knows is why I moved here. I know Andy’s spoken to her, and I’m not sharing friends with Andy. I learned that with Brenda, Steve, Jai and a few others that it’s not good to share friends with him because of the way he tries to turn them against me when he gets pissed at me.

Andy insisted Donna could be a good friend and I shouldn’t dump her. I’m sure she could be in other ways and I’ll always appreciate the help with the food she gave me and the dress, but I will not be who she wants me to be. I know I did the right thing by cutting Donna off, even though there’s a little tiny part of me that misses her. The thing of it is, though, if Donna had been the one to dump me, Andy would have been on her side.

I am not gonna take his shit with Andy like I did in Springfield!

SUNDAY, JULY 12, 1992 I still have much writing to do. A few miserable things have happened to me since I’ve last written. I can’t help but feel guilty and cursed as I usually do, despite the fact that I had no control over the situation. I had a great month to start with here, then I wound up wishing I was dead again. I got so scared and depressed as reality hit me. So many fears, doubts, and questions were going through my head. All I kept thinking is that I didn’t want to live my life scraping pennies. Just barely able to pay the rent, the electric bill, food and other non-edibles that add up. Because I know now 100% for sure I’ll never have my dream, what the fuck is my purpose in life. What am I here for? To just barely ever eat enough and eat right? To be scared that SS will cut or stop my checks? SSI already stopped the check I get monthly for $16. They claim I was overpaid which is a crock of shit. There’s no use calling them as you just can’t fight them.

What is my purpose in life? To wonder if I can fully come up with the rent money and the electric bill? This is gonna be my life cuz I cannot settle, cannot have my dream and will never live in a project again. I couldn’t settle even if I wanted to. I couldn’t get up day after day very early in the morning. I’d only sleep 2-4 hours a night. We already know what effect that has on a person. Live in the NHA if you can’t sleep before 4 AM and see how it feels. I can’t afford to get up at 7 AM, lay in bed from 11 PM to 4 AM-5 AM and get up at 7 AM all over again continuously.

I also cannot afford to go without medical benefits and pay thousands of dollars for medical shit. So once again, what is my purpose here?

On July 7th, I had a horrible day. My food stamps are gonna be delayed now another month cuz the asshole in CT never closed my case. The worker in AZ said the worker back there never knew I moved. Bullshit. Tammy and Dad spoke to her. They do this to delay you as while they’re delaying you they save money. I’m so sick of harassment from public assistance, SSI and SS. I was so stressed out and was crying so long and hard that my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I thought it’d be easier financially here. That is one of the reasons why I moved here.

Besides being scared shitless about money, I got a notice from the office here. Either pay a $50 fine and be evicted or get rid of Shadow. I knew I had no choice. Andy and I drove him to Paradise Valley where Stevie Nicks lives. We dropped him and his box over the wall onto her property. God, do I miss that cat! As obnoxious as he was, I miss meowing with him and his being so loving and affectionate.

I’m too upset to continue on now and that pretty much covers all the bad news. It’s gonna be a long boring life of struggling financially, wishing I could settle happily, wishing I wanted to be anything else as bad as I wanted to be a singer, and wondering what my purpose is here on earth?!

When I continue, believe it or not, I’ll have better things to write about. Right now, though, all I can think about is Shadow. Most of the time I have him pretty well blocked out. Now, I can’t get rid of him.

THURSDAY, JULY 9, 1992 Right now I’m only gonna do a quick rundown on topics I’ll write about in full detail tomorrow. First of all, since being here I had a very scary close call a couple of days ago. It concerns financial issues and Shadow. I was a devastated bundle of nerves for almost 24 hours. The financial issue has been fixed, but I’m crushed about something else and I always will be.

I’ll also write about packages from my parents. Packages I have gotten and packages I’m expecting. Also, about tapes and calls. Tomorrow I must go to the office for my CDs.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 1992 I have many things to write about, but I think I’ll save the bulk of it till later this evening. I have done so much writing in the last few days, so I need to take a break. Plus, I really need to go warm up my voice as I believe Andy and I are going to go and compete in a karaoke contest tonight. I don’t know for sure. All I know is that when I went over to his apartment to use his phone at 4:00, he was sound asleep. Oh well.

[chuckletons]

Random and you've probably noticed how inconsistent Carl's personality is in Johnny Bravo. He can be a sweet little dope in one episode and a sarcastic little shit in the next. It depends on what the writers wanted to use him for in the episode.

no totally. i think they intended for carl to be both (i can explain). then he's also got so many issues, but on the other hand: remember how "creepy" they tried to make him? i fly, aunt katie's farm (🙄), etc. then by s3, it's sprinkled here and there but he feels more "normal" in comparison? sort of? lmao

carl was a retooling of the 'jim dandy' concept from the s2 bible (van + seth version). dandy was basically donny as an original character, but more importantly, he's— y'know what here's his bio except i highlighted everything that got shoved onto carl in some form

(putting that + more thoughts under the cut this is gonna get Long and disjointed. i love production bs)

(didn't highlight it, but the 'never to[o] old to learn something new' part reminds me of the bravo 13 intro)

again, not to a T, but easy to tell what was reworked into carl's personality once the s2-3 crew took over. this includes his obliviousness, which ended up bouncing between outright fantasy and misinterpreting insults or social cues. it depended on what the writers thought was funnier at the moment ig (regardless, carl does have trouble with social skills like johnny, but in different ways.)

this is one of the biggest reasons why carl got reduced so much in s4. van brought osmond back as a guest star, taking the main "annoying cheery guy" role... for three episodes. so, carl's character is "annoying cheery guy" (ultra geek edition), but as merch proves, he was planned to be more of a sad and stereotypical (x2) little man... sometimes? who knows.

carl was likely created to be a better foil for johnny, who had the most going on, and for the variety in plotlines/punchlines. he definitely had more going on personality-wise than jim. even in the few comics based on bible carl, he's blunt as usual, smug, skeptical of johnny, whatever this mess is, but he is his usual enthusiastic self too. in a kid's book, carl's bio didn't mention that he's sweet or positive at all. his nerdiness was the focus, although those traits were associated with 'dweeb-y' or 'annoying' anyway so it pretty much blended together.

("carl got nerdier" is the most interesting bit here. and "even more irritating" implies johnny hates it more when carl succeeds than he hates his nerdiness— and that really applied to anything in the show, not just dating.)

when it comes to the retooled bible as a whole and what's known about it, i'm gonna guess that the writers felt certain ideas (such as carl being too self-aware he's a 'loser' and 'uncool', johnny trying to get him to "man up", the list goes on) weren't going to make good gags in the long run. i think they also had to find a balance of edgy and goofy for the show that felt right/the network was comfortable with when they weren't trying to push the censors. that definitely would've affected their 'plans' for carl.

in particular, carl being the "hopeless pollyanna" type felt more effective VS. jim/osmond since the retool's world was darker and wackier. his optimism and fantasies (at odds with his Logical Nerd Traits) set him up for failure, similarly to johnny's entire deal. the focus was often more on the nerdy side of gags (again, blends together tbh), but carl got the short end of the stick either way. this goes for s4 too, for obvious reasons. not to mention, carl's "luck with the ladies"/interest in dating was only relevant in like four episodes. the point is, carl usually lost in some form.

TL;DR back on topic: carl being sarcastic and/or mean occasionally... kind of worked— for me. like, i just say damn. this is a lot. he feels like a ticking time bomb and one day he's going to physically explode. in all seriousness, i feel part of the humor/irony of the carl we got is that it's easy for johnny to get under his skin (doomates, chain gang, these, etc.) or bring out his smug and spiteful side, and carl tries to "[take johnny being an asshole to him] in stride"/not be resentful, but that's obviously going GREAT for him. although the writers focused more on carl's "annoying" goofiness over time, he wasn't created as a 100% saccharine guy. the balance was just executed in a very Episodic Comedy way, as you said; it depended on the plot, what jokes they wanted to make, etc. otherwise, i can't argue with "he's fucked up" as an excuse LOL. it's funny when carl's mean so mission accomplished. live laugh love <3

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Castlevania Season 4: I’m not mad, just disappointed

Season 4 is poorly written fanfiction, which is...better than a lot of things could be, I guess.

Spoilers below the cut.

Content warning: trauma, sexual assault, psychological manipulation

The Gods Have Had a Change of Heart

Or, “Season 3 Blocked and Ignored”

Season 3 felt like the fabric of the universe had been twisted just to inflict additional pain. Season 4 overcompensates in the other direction; trauma evaporates, and good things happen for no other reason than to make our favorite characters happy.

The Season 3 finale left two characters in particular totally devastated: Alucard and Hector. Alucard is violently betrayed in a horrifying sexual assault by the first two people he’s spoken to since Trevor and Sypha left. He ends up killing them in self-defense and puts their bodies on stakes outside the castle, alluding to his father’s habit of doing so and potentially hinting at a turn toward evil. Hector is seduced by Lenore and then enslaved using a magic ring.

Yet at the start of Season 4, it’s as if these things never happened. Alucard is troubled, but not totally devastated, certainly not evil. Taka and Sumi are referenced in exactly one conversation with new character, Greta, in which she says the rather tactless throwaway line, “I had a boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time once. But they never tried to kill me.” Hector is nominally imprisoned, but immediately seems highly agentic, perhaps even more so than before. He studies, lays traps, and makes secret plans with other people. Furthermore, his relationship with Lenore is completely transformed. From falling to his knees in abject horror and despair at being enslaved, he suddenly switches to light banter, in what is apparently a basically okay, mutually enjoyed romantic/sexual relationship. Manipulative, selfish Lenore is now a sympathetic character struggling to reconcile her own role and feelings with Carmilla’s plans.

The events of season 3 happened, remaining canon in the most basic, literal sense. But the emotional weight attached to them has disappeared into thin air.

Not gonna lie, I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that Alucard and Hector were okay. I’m soft-hearted! I don’t like seeing characters I like suffer! I mean, conflict is important, and I can deal with (or even enjoy in a certain sense) seeing characters suffer if it makes sense and serves a narrative purpose. But as far as I can tell, the season 3 finale was nothing more than lurid, meaningless violence. I probably wouldn’t have continued watching the show if it devolved into nothing more than finding novel ways to torture the characters.

Still, it doesn’t feel quite right to pretend like nothing happened either. Or, really, not that nothing happened, but that those things didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, didn’t leave lasting scars. That’s...almost kind of worse.

But, I thought, I can sort of forgive this sudden shift in the stars, given that there may have been some sort of change in creative direction relating to Ellis’ decreased involvement with the show.* Plus, season 3 was insanity. It’s not like it was full of great writing choices, so if we quietly ignore some of them, maybe that’s for the best.

*I only later learned that Netflix actually chose to continue with Ellis’ season 4 scripts. It is not lost on me that maybe Ellis doesn’t know how to write about the lasting effects of traumatic sexual experiences or how power dynamics can make a sexual relationship problematic because he doesn’t understand that those things exist.

Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening

Pretty Pictures, Not Much Else

Unfortunately, the disconnect between seasons 3 and 4 isn’t the only problem with this season. Although I felt that season 4 was a bit less boring than season 3 (I particularly enjoyed some of the earlier episodes of season 4), it suffers from the same basic problems of Characters Being Nobody and Nothing Happening.

None of the characters experience any significant development, let alone any sort of coherent arc. Sypha has changed slightly, becoming more rough and jaded. I did really like the scene where she talks about becoming the kind of person who says “shit.” I think it really speaks to how entering into a relationship with someone means taking on aspects of their lifestyle, and how that can change you in ways that you can’t predict and therefore can’t exactly “agree” to. Sometimes those changes are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re neutral, and sometimes it’s difficult to know. But you have to accept that you’re sacrificing some aspects of the person that you could have been if you chose to live completely independently, or with someone else.

Trevor really hasn’t changed since season 1 when he first decided to take up the mantle of hero again. Likewise with Alucard. Hector and Lenore change, as previously noted, but that change is sudden, jarring, and occurs completely off screen in between seasons 3 and 4. Carmilla dies as exactly as she lived: bitter, angry, and violent. Saint Germain just kind of...gets fucked over in a nonsensical subplot, which is its own whole can of worms.

We also get several new characters in season 4, none of whom have developed personalities or motives, nor do they develop any of those things over the course of the season: Greta, Zamfir, Varney, Ratko.

And nobody. Does. Anything.

Trevor and Sypha spend the entire season trying to explore and aid Targoviste, which comes to absolutely nothing. They’re unable to help anyone, Zamfir dies, and they end up just jumping through a magic portal to the actually relevant subplot in the finale. Carmilla literally does little more than draw maps until she’s ultimately killed. Hector plays a minor role in Saint Germain’s extraction of Dracula from Hell; otherwise, he and Lenore basically just exchange banter. Saint Germain does sort of do some stuff? But it’s often unclear how he’s made his connections, who the people who are helping him are, or what exactly he’s doing in terms of his magic beyond “whatever it takes to get back to his lover.”

Sure, there are fight scenes, but they feel meaningless. There’s no context, no stakes. There’s also a LOT of dialogue, and it is. Not well written. Exposition is embarrassingly clumsy at times, and the philosophical musings are cliche at best, muddled and confusing at worst. There’s just not all that much going on.

That is, except for Isaac. But more on him in a second.

What Kind of Show Is This?

When the plot line adapted from Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse ended with season 2, the show struggled to establish a new identity.

Despite nominally dealing with themes like whether humanity is inherently good or evil and how to cope with wrongdoing and loss, seasons 1 and 2 ultimately boiled down to a pretty generic action-adventure/fantasy plot with found family/power of friendship elements. Main characters Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard don’t really wrestle with big philosophical questions or suffer any major defeats. They know that they have to take down Dracula for the good of the world, and they work together as a team to do it, with a little character development relating to their various backstories sprinkled in.

Then season 3 happened, and things got weird. The trio is broken up for what feels like a pretty trivial reason—Alucard has to protect the castle and Belmont hold, I guess? And the result of that decision is that the dynamics for the three main characters are completely unbalanced.

Ellis openly admits that he basically went feral with the writing of season 3, and it shows. The messaging in seasons 1 and 2 was cliche, but consistent. The message of season 3? Anyone’s guess.

Season 4 reversed the darkening of tone from season 3, but shares its inability to pick a story and tell it.

Isaac is the Main Character

Always has been.

While I can’t say that his character or arc are perfect, I can say that he actually has a character and an arc. He starts off motivated by his fierce loyalty to Dracula, then has to struggle to find his purpose once Dracula is gone. He goes from subservient to agentic. He goes from fully endorsing the genocide of humanity and not caring about his own life to seeing some worth in humans and genuinely wanting to live. He has an interesting moment that deepens our understanding of what night creatures are, while also serving as an exploration of the meaning of one’s fundamental nature. Most importantly, these changes happen naturally over the course of the show. They never feel forced or out of the blue, and while I feel like even more could have been done with Isaac’s character, there’s a lot to appreciate about what is there.

If there’s any thread holding Castlevania as a single, coherent work together, it’s Isaac. Not only is his character the best executed and the most coherent over the course of the show, his character explores themes that are larger than himself and relevant to the show as a whole, like those mentioned earlier: misanthropy versus a belief in the value of humanity; the ability to go beyond one’s “nature” or initial circumstances; and how to respond to being wronged or losing something important to you. Exploring the individual lives of characters is great, but really good writing usually requires going beyond that to reflect on broader questions and ideas. Isaac is the only character here that serves that larger purpose.

Sorry...I Just Don’t Buy It

The season 4 finale is crazy, although in a different way from season 3′s.

Varney being Death makes no sense on several different levels. I’m not going to spend a lot of time picking that particular plot twist apart, but I will talk about why I think it doesn’t work at the largest scale, and how I think season 4 might have been done better.

Last minute twists with zero foreshadowing are rarely a good idea, and this is no exception. Why introduce this “Death” entity at the last minute to be the most important battle of the season? The finale of the entire show, even? Besides the lack of logic or emotional buildup, this robs the show of the opportunity to make use of the antagonists that it already has. Since Dracula died, Carmilla has been the obvious choice for a new big bad. Why hasn’t she done more?

Season 4 feels crowded with characters and plot lines that amount to nothing. Why not bring some of these characters together? If Carmilla is the main antagonist, how come she never meets any of the protagonists (except Hector, who is a pretty minor player in this ecosystem) or even affects them in any way?

Season 4 feels like maybe it was trying to make something out of season 3 and the model that it presented, but it ultimately fails to do so. The writers throw the trio back together at the end anyway, so why not have them rejoin sooner and work together? Maybe Sypha and Trevor’s past experience with Saint Germain could have helped Alucard and Greta piece together what he was plotting sooner, rather than all four of them being completely blindsided by it in the penultimate episode. (Sypha and Trevor know that someone is trying to resurrect Dracula, but they fail to find out any actual detail about the plans, despite their supposed attempts.) Have characters actually do stuff, figure stuff out, advance the plot!

Likewise, maybe Carmilla becomes aware of Saint Germain’s scheming, sees it as a threat, and tries to take him down. Maybe she tries to get involved and somehow use alchemy or the Infinite Corridor to her own benefit. What does it look like when power-hungry Carmilla, who wants to rule the world, finds out there’s an entire multiverse out there? That could easily set her up to be a foil to Saint Germain, causing him to realize that what he’s doing is wrong.

What actually ended up happening in the show feels disjointed and often empty. In particular, most of the events that happen in the last two episodes just don’t really work for me. I didn’t like Trevor suddenly sacrificing himself to this random, new, super powerful enemy, or how the gems and dagger that he found just happened to be the perfect weapon to kill this new enemy, or how he inexplicably returns from the dead.

This kind of thing is what I mean when I say that this season feels like fanfiction. Trevor comes back from the dead for no discernible reason other than that it would really suck if he died. Greta as a character seems to literally only exist to be Alucard’s girlfriend and support him so that he doesn’t have to continue to be alone and potentially turn evil. Alucard’s trauma from Taka and Sumi and Hector’s trauma from Lenore are both conveniently erased. Even Dracula and Lisa are resurrected somehow and get their happy ending. And it’s like, I guess I prefer deus ex machina to the opposite (Does that have a name? When everything is going well but then something terrible happens for no reason other than to make things worse for the characters?), but they’re both bad writing.

God. This isn’t even getting into what happened with the Council of Sisters. And I don’t even really like those characters, but that doesn’t mean I want to see their characters handled poorly.

I’m not sorry that I watched until the end, but I can’t in good faith recommend the show as a whole. If you’ve yet to watch Castlevania, just stop at the end of season 2. While there are some shining moments in seasons 3 and 4 (4 more than 3), it’s just really not worth it.

[thevioletjones]

31, because I can’t see it fitting Ian/Mickey easily and know you’re a good enough writer to prove me wrong ☺️

Thanks! I tried. 🙂

Prompt 6: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

Ian’s Box of Crap

Being currently unemployed, Mickey didn’t have much of a leg to stand on when attempting to deflect Ian’s demands that he get chores and household tasks done while his husband was out earning an honest paycheck. He wasn’t even allowed to shake people down anymore, let alone pull robberies, or get back into the drug trade. Ian had made it clear that divorce wasn't off the table if Mickey deliberately did something stupid that got him thrown back in prison for a long stretch.

He didn’t much like being told what to do, but what he liked even less was not having Ian in his life. He’d had to go too many years without him in the past, and nothing good ever came during those times. Unfortunately, Ian Gallagher was it for Mickey Milkovich. That meant that he actually had to stay in line and put in the work if he didn’t want to lose him again. Ian wasn’t as soft as he used to be. Never really had been at his core, but the maturity of age had cemented his backbone rather rigidly, and Mickey was actually loathe to piss him off too badly these days.

So he did the bullshit grunt work requested of him, just to keep the peace. He was tired of fighting every day of his life, and what was the point of marrying Ian if they weren’t going to try and make each other happy?

In the past couple weeks, Mickey had done everything from laundry and dishes, to vacuuming and mopping. He’d patched up a couple of big holes in the wall that Frank had made, and fixed the loose parts of the wooden outdoor steps and banisters, both front and back. He’d even gone so far as to babysit the tiny, helpless Gallagher spawn a few times, which had been interesting and somewhat terrifying. Then Ian had given him this look when he caught the scene one afternoon, eyes shining, smile beaming. It reminded him of that brief time they’d helped take care of Yevgeny, which made Mickey’s head spin. He didn’t need Gallagher getting the whole ‘having kids’ thing back in his head right now. Mickey was in no way ready for all that. Hadn’t been the first time, and they’d all seen how that turned out.

Today, he was supposed to clean out the attic. He told Ian that asking someone outside the family to do it sounded like a bad idea. How was he supposed to know what shit the Gallaghers wanted to keep, and what they wanted to get rid of? What if he made a mistake? If anyone had asked him what to keep from the hoarded piles of shit in the Milkovich house, he would’ve laughed in their face, then set everything on fire. Mickey wasn’t the sentimental type. So did Ian want him to just toss everything?

Ian had rolled his eyes, clarified that Mickey was a Gallagher now, and given him a run-down. Anything that had obviously been made or cherished by a Gallagher kid, any family photos and albums, or small boxes of keepsakes, those stayed. Anything that wasn’t being used by anyone, but could be of use and handed down to the youngest or recently shacked up of them, set them aside to be put in rotation. Anything that worked, but they already had one of or didn’t need, donation box (because apparently they actually sometimes donated shit to the local shelter). And anything that looked completely unnecessary for anyone, throw it in a Best Choice trash bag, but don't take them to the curb yet. Ian would go over everything when he got home to make sure it was sorted correctly.

“So you’re gettin' me to do all this boring-ass grunt work, then you’re gonna have to go through it anyway? What the fuck, man?” he’d asked.

“It'll make the whole thing way easier on me, so can you just shut the fuck up and do me the favor? I’ll blow you later for your trouble.”

“Like you wouldn’t be doin’ that anyway.”

Ian had shrugged. “If you don’t, I won’t.”

“Threatening to withhold sex? That’s a bitch move if I ever heard one.”

“Whatever, deadbeat. You want me to support you, gotta help out when I ask. A blowjob would just be a bonus, because I’m generous of spirit.”

“I’m not gonna forget this hardcore manipulation, Firecrotch. I’ll get my revenge eventually.”

Ian merely kissed him on the nose. “Sounds like a plan. See ya.”

And he was out the door.

“Asshole,” Mickey’d muttered under his breath.

And now, a few hours later, here he was; sitting on the dusty, hard planks of the weird-smelling Gallagher attic, sorting through the memories and forgotten things of the family he’d married into less than six months ago. He’d dawdled as long as he could on the couch, eating junk food and watching his favorite daytime game shows, judge shows, and salacious ‘who’s the baby daddy?’ shows. The only hint of fun left in the remainder of his day was in the bong and the beer he’d brought with him up the rickety ladder. After every box sorted, he’d take a rip or two and chase the smoke with a long swig of cheap alcohol.

The most interesting things he’d found so far were some old pictures of Ian when he was little, his hair a curly mess, and his pale skin covered in dark freckles. His smile was too big for his face, and he looked goofy as all hell. Nothing like the hot hunk of man he was today. It was the Ian Mickey remembered from Little League a million years ago. And maybe he’d set one of the photos aside to keep for himself and taken some pics of others with his phone, so what?

Mostly he’d had to sift through little Debbie’s ridiculous girly shit, and Frank’s completely random assortment of insignificant trinkets with a side of what looked like bondage gear. He’d since moved on to a group of boxes obviously labeled by Carl when he was younger. He recognized the scrawl, occasional backwards lettering, and lack of possessive apostrophes. The words were short enough not to be atrociously misspelled, and consisted of a Gallagher first name in plural, followed by: ‘box of crap.’

Everybody had one, including Fiona, who hadn’t taken it with her when she’d left Chicago, and the kids she’d raised as her own, behind. The most scandalous item in there was a dildo of decent size that Mickey definitely would’ve packed in his suitcase if he’d been the one moving away as a single chick. The thought crossed his mind to pilfer it for his own collection, but he figured that Ian would be weirded out by the association. Sex toys were probably the only thing Gallaghers never shared between them.

Carl had a box of his own, semi-well-hidden compared to the others, and Mickey discovered why when he’d managed to get the copious amount of packing tape off. It was full of straight porn mags with big-tittied women and shaved pussies, underneath an array of dangerous weapons the family had forbidden him to have when he was underaged. He found everything from nunchucks, to throwing stars, to switchblades, to brass knuckles. No guns or attempted homemade bombs, thank fuck. He chucked the porn in the trash pile, cuz nobody needed to see that shit, and set the switchblade aside for himself, deciding to give the rest to Ian to sort out.

He saved Ian’s box for last, opening it up to find a grab bag of old army decorations, tattered paperbacks, comics, a bunch of loose paper covered in scribbles, and a stack of notebooks.

Mickey didn’t realize Ian was such a huge nerd that he’d kept his high school notebooks, but giving a quick flip through the first two revealed they weren’t school-related at all. He remembered Ian going through a phase when he was always writing shit down, ranting about having great ideas he needed to save for posterity. Before he went to the hospital. A manic phase. Probably one of many he’d cycled through, yet Mickey had missed some of those extremes.

Everything had been so chaotic then. He’d pushed Ian away, then gotten the same treatment in return. Their typical messiness pervaded everything back then. And now, he had in his hands Ian’s unfiltered thoughts about what happened back then.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, setting the notebooks down and going for the beer/weed combo again.

There were exactly two ways to go about this: he could put the notebooks back into the Ian box and not invade his privacy, or he could skim through them and hone in on the interesting relevant bits and maybe get a few long-pondered answers. On the one hand, Ian would probably get pissed if Mickey read them. On the other hand, Ian never had to know about it, did he?

It really wasn’t much of a choice… he’d always been curious as to what the hell was going through Ian’s head back in the day. They’d never exactly been great at talking things out, and he didn’t have it in him to try and make Ian relive some of the lowest moments of his life just to give Mickey some peace of mind. Plus, they were always facing some new bullshit obstacle head-on, so the past always just kind of got lost in the shuffle of their present difficulties.

Mickey took a deep breath and opened one of the notebooks again. The pages weren’t dated, and a lot of it didn’t make much sense. There were many lists with lines crossed out, but they didn’t describe things ‘to do,’ more like an endless inventory of concepts and feelings. The thought patterns were totally abstract, and Mickey couldn’t really make heads or tails of them. It hit him sharply in the chest when he realized that when Ian had been out of it, he’d really and truly been fucking out of it. These seemed like the crazed rantings of an unmedicated schizophrenic babbling on public transportation. It pained Mickey to the core, and it scared the shit out of him too.

He flipped through it fairly quickly, then opened the next one. It seemed to be calmer, more legible, and less unintelligible. It was more like a diary with bad poetry sprinkled in, and it only took a few pages for Mickey’s own name to jump out at him among the wall of words. It must have been written during Ian’s lost months, after going AWOL from the Army when he was 17.

He described running away from Chicago, scamming his early enlistment, crashing and burning his way out of bootcamp, shaking and selling his ass as a club boy, snorting, smoking, and swallowing all manner of substances, and crashing anywhere from penthouses to flophouses with sexual favors sprinkled in liberally. It was like the chronicle of a person going mad and coping in all the wrong ways. It surprised Mickey how emotional it made him to read these things in vivid detail. He’d completely forgotten how worried he used to be about Ian. When he was gone, when he went missing again, and when he started doing irrational things that could’ve ended so much worse than they did.

Ian was the one that had to live out all the drama and trauma of his disorder, but Mickey was the one caught on the sidelines, not having a single clue what to do or how to fix it. He’d never felt so useless or helpless in his entire life, even through all the bullshit he’d suffered growing up with Terry as a father. Maybe it was because of his age, or how Ian made him feel a certain way he’d never felt before. He just remembered hating it, and being so fucking sad.

These pages reminded him that through the mania, Ian was a bottomless well of sadness himself.

It was tough text to get through, and more than once, he felt like maybe he shouldn’t be reading it at all. Ian had never intended for other people to see his innermost thoughts, even Mickey. But it was impossible to stop now that he’d opened that floodgate. It was like reliving a part of their shared history through the eyes of his partner in crime. It was too fascinating.

After countless pages of dark tales from the void, Mickey came upon a page that was actually addressed to him. Surely, Ian had never intended to hand it over, but it was his nonetheless.

Mickey— I never had the balls to tell you this, But you’re the only boy I’ve ever loved. I thought you loved me too, But now I’m not so sure. I’m so confused and I go back and forth, Never really knowing what to actually think, Or what the truth is. All I really realize now is that I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you. It took you forever to let me, And now I just do it with anyone, Cuz I don’t fucking care. I just miss you, And I wish you were here. But also, I don’t, Cuz I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m having a great time on my own adventure, But also not. You shouldn’t be a part of it right now. You’re on your own strange journey, I guess. Maybe one day we’ll be on the same road together again, And also for the first time, since we never really were.

Mickey barely had enough time to sniff and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen, when his husband’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

“You’re still up here?”

“Jesus Christ!” he cried out with a visible jolt of his body.

His head snapped toward the attic hatch, where Ian’s dumb red head was surveying the musty space. Mickey let the notebook fall from his grasp, but Ian was already climbing the rest of the way in before it occurred to him that he was about to be caught red-handed with journals that were supposed to be deeply private. He could only flip it closed and grab his beer to polish it off, before Ian was crouching in front of him and taking a seat.

“Can’t believe you actually did this for me, to be honest,” Ian said with a chuckle, glancing at the bong. “Anything left?”

“Baggie’s right there,” Mickey replied nodding his head to the left.

“Nice.”

Ian got distracted with loading a bowl, so Mickey very subtly tried to nudge Ian's notebooks aside with his foot, like maybe if they were slightly farther away, he could claim complete innocence as to knowing what they were.

He watched Ian take a couple hits before passing it to him, and Mickey welcomed the opportunity to temper his suddenly sullen mood.

“How was work?” he asked between hits, before passing back to Ian.

Ian snickered and furrowed his brow. “You never ask me about work.”

Mickey shrugged. “Don’t mean I don’t care.”

“Uh huh.” Ian looked even more skeptical, and finally glanced around at what Mickey had in his vicinity. That sent his brow up high, in a decent imitation of Mickey’s usual expressiveness. “Oh. That my box?”

Mickey gulped and nodded. “Yeah. Just sorting it out. Should’ve just left the whole thing for ya. Sorry.”

Ian’s gaze snapped to his face. “You read stuff.”

It was a statement rather than a question.

“Just a little,” Mickey admitted. “I shouldn’t have. Fuck, I’m an asshole.”

But Ian only shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to say that. I’d be pissed.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

“Really? You’re not mad?”

Ian shook his head again. “No. Actually, I’m kinda relieved.”

“How the fuck so?”

“It's all stuff I wanted you to know. I mean, part of me used to be really ashamed, maybe still is, but… another part of me always just wanted to be totally honest with you. In a way I haven’t ever been with anyone. Even Lip. But I didn’t have the words to say it, you know? And I know a lot of it is just scary rambling. I don’t even understand what some of it means, but the stuff that’s real… the lucid stuff… it’s depressing as fuck, but it’s the truth. We didn’t always tell each other the truth, but we showed each other. And this was something I couldn’t really show you. So maybe you were meant to find these. Do my dirty work for me.”

“Damn, Gallagher, that’s kinda heavy. These were… kinda heavy. Made me feel shit I’d forgotten about, you know?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t read ‘em in years, but I remember. It’s why I wanted to put ‘em away, I guess. Plus, I didn’t want someone else snooping around and finding out too much. I mean, you never know in this house. It’s possible every fucking Gallagher already read them, but I hope not.”

“Ian…” Mickey started, but didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. Words of reassurance? It was all in the past, and Ian was doing so well now. He was diligent about his medication, and he hadn’t spun out of control since before prison. Anything Mickey said now would just be cold comfort, since that notebook version of Ian barely existed anymore. Ian was always afraid that it would recur, but Mickey wasn’t. They were truly in it together now, and he’d never let Ian cross the threshold into the uncontrollable. “I wish I coulda been what you needed me to be back then. However impossible it was. Some of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even my fault, really. It was some shitty shit that happened to me. I reacted the only way I thought I could. There’s no use in either of us wishing we’d done things differently now. At least we got the right outcome, right? We’re together.” He clasped their left hands so that their wedding rings touched. “Forever.”

Mickey couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, you didn’t have to get that gay about it. I already had to suffer through a buncha your faggy teen poetry. I deserve a break from the high drama of it all.”

Ian laughed, kissed his hand, dropped it, then smacked him on the cheek. “Fuck you.”

“Just say when,” Mickey responded with a smile.

“After we go through all this shit, Romeo. Explain the piles.”

“Well,” said Mickey, pointing to the nearby corner, “Carl has a shitload of contraband in there. Weapons, not drugs. Frank has some shit that might be S&M gear, not sure, then aside from your lunatic journal ramblings, everything else is boring as shit. Oh, and Fiona left a big blue dildo.”

[shark-el]

Onion soup:

A firend of mine asked me for my Onion soup recipe. I was just gana send it to her plain simple and boring. But then I thought of a better way to waist my time that I should probably be spending doing work or researching for projects and thing. But I decided this was a lot more fun!

My idea was to be one of those annoying food blogs that tell their whole life story in an absolutely overly exaggerated fashion! One to make fun of blogs that do this, and tow because it's fun and why the hell not?!

So the idea for this started back when I was first starting out cooking and every single blog I found had a 1000 word essay about the origin of sed food. I found it extremely irritating because why do I did to know that this person's great uncle's best friends grandma's dog died in a fire in order to make this recipe?! So I would scroll down all the way to get to the actual recipe but the story just kept on going! Like about how her great great great grandfather's colleague from work had spills tea on his novel, a passion project that he had worked so hard for. I still had no idea how this was relevant at all to the spring rolls I was planning on making? And after an eternity of scrolling fingers tired and eyes full of tears I finally got to the recipe.

You'd think after all that back story and the amount I had learned about the person writing this like the fact that her great grandmother's favorite color was tangerine but specifically tangerine, and not orange because her childhood best friend had lent her a sweater that exact color and the next day she had never returned. That sweater has become a family heirloom that has been passed down ever since. Or the fact that she had avocado toast on Tuesday three years ago on may 18th at exactly 3:26 pm. Needless to say I knew a lot about this person and their family tree. It really helped me get the care and feeling I needed for my spring rolls. So that is why I'm going to be overly pretentious and do the same thing to you so have fun.

I was born at a very young age, in the evening on a hot August day. I don't remember much from this time in my life but my parents told me that I was miserable until I could do things for myself. After that I was a force to be reckoned with, nothing could stop me! There was one time when I was about 6 months old my parents had left me on the table thinking I couldn't get far, keeping an eye on me every once in a while but not paying much attention. The second I was put down I saw something gleaming in the corner of my eye, it was a delicious looking chocolate brownie. Nothing could stop me I was going to get that brownie no matter what! so I slowly started scooching my tiny baby body to the delicious looking dessert moving as fast as my little arms could take me. It had been 10 minutes of struggling from one end of the table to the other. I had finally made it! I was so close my hand was mere centimeters away from the prize. It was gonna be mine all mine! But then suddenly out of nowhere my dad's arms came and picked me up taking me away from my long awaited dessert. needless to say I was furious but I still never got that specific brownie (I've had other brownies don't get me wrong, it's just I never had that one. And at this point I don't think I'd want to since it's several years past it's expansion date).

That was my first experience with real food which might have been a core memory if I actually remembered it. Sadly this happened before i could remember it, but i'd like to think that it was the beginning of my love for food.

Over the years I started cooking it started off as learning how to make eggs and mac and cheese but then over the years I started to make more complex dishes, some worked and some didn't. Now I know that most people would rather be informed about the times that somebody failed rather than the time someone succeeded, they stand out more I guess and if you're actually sitting down to read this then I will reward you with some of my biggest cooking fails.

First off anything that involves baking, for instance there was one time I was going to bake a chocolate cake for a bake sale and well... so what happened was, I learned that I can't follow a recipe for the life of me! You may ask why I'm writing this recipe if I probably won't follow it anyway, but it's more a list of ingredients than a actual recipe. Anyway back to the story so my first mistake was I ended up putting in a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon so normally this would be fine it would have just been a little bit salty, but problem was I had another mistake, I ended up putting in a tablespoon of mint extract instead of a teaspoon of vanilla extract as well, so the resulting cake was less cake tasting and more of the toothpaste variety. ( For some reason my brother loved it. He took about a handfuls. I would not recommend it with a glass of orange juice).

Another baking story, I was trying to make chicken pot pie, and filling itself is cooking. I can do that, throwing things in a pot, easy! It works! But do not, I repeat do not! leave me alone with a pie crust. my dad and I frantically tried to roll out said pie crust and not rip it, we were flailing around confused as to how dough worked. It took us about half an hour to roll out the pie crust so it would rip adds little as possible. After that day we came to a conclusion never to leave us with the job of baking ever again!

The next cooking fail I have is finally about the soup recipe. You see the first time I tried making onion soup it didn't go very well... Let me explain what happened. I was really in the mood for a nice warm onion soup and I figured you just throw some onions in a pot with some white wine and water and let it sit. Problem was we didn't have any wine, and I was too young to go to the grocery store to buy some, so instead I decided to use grape juice. Never but I mean never cook an absurd amount of grape juice, the heated aroma smelt excruciatingly unappetizing and I would not recommend it on anyone. So the resulting soup was watered down hot grape juice and stir-fried onions. needless to say it did not taste good and smelled even worse. I told myself that would be the last time I'd ever make onion soup! Years have past and and I was really in the mood for onion soup again even after that disaster, so I decided to try once again. this time with no grape juice! I looked through multiple recipes some had more ingredients than others and ended up combining a lot of them together to make my own onion soup recipe the one you see before you. And though I was scared that I'd mess it up I decided that I just really wanted some onion soup so I made it and it turned out delicious. Look at that a happy ending isn't that just great?!

I'd be surprised if you actually read through all of this if you did a good job,if you didn't then you're probably not going to read this sentence but I don't blame you it's all good who actually reads these backstories to recipes anyway?

Anyway I think I've mumbled on long enough here is the actual recipe for this soup:

5-6 onions

7-8 cups of chicken/ onion stock ( cold be parve from show mixes)

3 cloves of garlic (probably more)

1/4 cups of soy sauce

1/3 cups of white wine (optional)

4 tablespoons of oil (2-3 at the beginning and then 1-2 in middle of caramelization)

4 tablespoons of flower

1 teaspoon sugar (helps with caramelization)

Salt (to taste)

Pepper ( to taste but approx 1/8-1/4 of a teaspoon)

Instructions:

1) caramelize onions:

On medium heat Cook the onions, stirring often, until they have softened, about 15 to 20 minutes.

Increase the heat to medium high. Add the remaining tablespoon of oil (or butter depending on) and cook, stirring often, until the onions start to brown, about 15 more minutes.

Then sprinkle with sugar (to help with the caramelization) and 1 teaspoon of salt and continue to cook until the onions are well browned, about 10 to 15 more minutes.

Add garlic

2) Add Flour until mixed and quickly ( so it doesn't burn) add Add wine and soy sauce and once mixed well and incorporated

3)Add stock slowly, then add bay leaves and black pepper and salt (if needed, you can always add it later).

Bring to a summer and leve on low heat for 30 mins.

And now you officially scrolled too far, this is the point in a recipe blog where they add a bunch of links to all the recipes made by their friends families and anything else that comes to mind. Most people looking for the recipe would scroll all the way to the end trying to find it in this mess of words and unnecessary backstory told in an excruciatingly painful amount of detail. Then realize they've scrolled too far, sigh and start scrolling up again, this time a little slower.

It normally also has recommendations of foods that would go well with it, in the case of this onion soup I would recommend eating it with some garlic bread or grilled cheese sandwiches, basically all comfort foods that would spark Joy anytime you eat them.

If you're looking for aesthetic you can try making a bread bowl, cover it with cheese and broil it, which would have a whole other recipe linked in somewhere, with more details about how their great uncle's best firends associate made this same recipe for the pince of some country. But as I mentioned beforehand, I for one am not a baker and bread is most definitely a baking job. Not only is bread one of the more complex foods to bake, even if you put every ingredient precisely as the recipe mentions them, it still won't turn out right! Because ether the atmospheric pressure has changed very slightly, or the wind isn't blowing in the correct direction. Bread making is hard and I have a lot of respect for people who can do it correctly.

If you've read through all of this, damn that's dedication thank you and I applaud thee. I hope you enjoyed, and were amused.

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Why the Idea of Disabled Jesus is Heretical

(Or, at best, a gross misinterpretation of Scripture. But really, it's heresy.)

@aspiringautistic asked on this post from my side blog: "what would be so harmful if there were people who perceived jesus as disabled?" and I am happy to oblige in expanding on those thoughts (though since the answer has little to do with autism and everything to do with Christianity in general, I thought it more appropriate to answer here on main). In case you hadn't prior seen the linked post and don't feel like clicking through, the short of it is this: the Gospel Coalition recently published an article in which the author, Andrew Abernethy, argued that Jesus was disabled. I'm here to tell you where he went wrong.

Hold on to your hats, folks. This is a long post.

(All Scripture quotations taken from the ESV translation.)

1. Disabilities are a result of the Fall. Before I get into anything else, I need to make this point abundantly clear. While being disabled does not dictate worth and it is not an indication of personal sin, it is still not how we are meant to be. Adam and Eve were created in the likeness of God, and were, therefore, created without sin or any of the things that came with sin. They were perfect -- at least until they disobeyed (Genesis 2-3). Sometimes people ask "if there is a God, why do bad things happen?" and the answer is because we live in a sin-cursed world. Disabilities, illness, and death itself exist because Adam and Eve sinned. (Romans 5:12: "Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned.")

.

.

2. Old Testament laws regarding sacrifices. The Old Testament Law is very specific when talking about what makes an acceptable sacrifice. There are a lot of different types (everything from bulls to grain), but the relevant ones to this discussion are sacrifices made for the atonement of sins. 

There are two categories of sacrifices made for sin: sin offerings made for unintentional sins, and burnt offerings made for sin in general. Burnt offerings and sin offerings both ranged from bulls to doves (or flour for the latter, if nothing else could be afforded) and sin offerings varied depending on both the person and the sin as well (Leviticus 1, 4-5). But all of the animals sacrificed had two instructions about them in common: that they be "without blemish", and that the sinner must place their hand on the head of the animal. The difference between the two was that a sin offering was required as an act of repentance and a burnt offering was voluntary. In the case of burnt offerings, the requirements for bulls and sheep or goats are laid out very plainly: "a male without blemish" (1:3, 10). 

In addition to all of this, once a year, on the Day of Atonement, one bull and two male goats would be sacrificed for the people to remove their sins (Leviticus 16; only one goat was killed; the other was sent away, symbolizing the removal of sin). Again, these animals had to be without blemish, just as all the others. The person offering the sacrifice was to place their hand on the head of the animal. The action of placing their hand was symbolic: it was a way of showing that the person's sin was being "transferred" to the animal so that the animal could take the person's place and receive the punishment for sin instead. "Without blemish" meant that it couldn't be sickly or diseased or crippled in any way. It had to be as close to perfect as was possible in a sin-cursed world because anything less than perfect had to die for its own imperfections. 

Because these sacrifices could never be truly perfect, they had to be repeated, but all of this was pointing to the time when Jesus would come as the final sacrifice made for the sins of the world.

.

.

3. Jesus as the final sacrifice. If you know anything about the Christian faith, you know that this is at the heart of everything we believe. Without Jesus, there is no gospel. So here's why that matters to this discussion: 

"But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by the means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption. For if the blood of goats and bulls, and the sprinkling of defiled persons with the ashes of a heifer, sanctify for the purification of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God" (Hebrews 9:11-14, emphasis mine). 

This passage in Hebrews (as well as verses preceding and following) are all about how Christ made atonement for us with His death, and how His voluntary sacrifice of Himself is superior to the OT sacrifices. 

So allow me to direct your attention to the bolded phrase above: “offered himself without blemish”. If this sounds familiar, it should, since I talked extensively about this in the point above. “Without blemish” in Leviticus meant to be not crippled or disfigured or ill in any way. If this same phrase is also applied to Christ, then the same must be true. If the OT sacrifices were required to be so, why would the same not apply to the Final Sacrifice that ended the need for sacrifices to be made? It wouldn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Not when the OT sacrifices were pointing towards Jesus; not when we have a God Who created order and purpose. Jesus had to be perfect to take our places -- and that includes being free of deformities that are a result of a sin-cursed world.

.

.

4. Isaiah 53, misinterpreted at best. This was one of Mr Abernethy’s main points, and it’s one he got disastrously wrong by reading what he wanted into Scripture (eisegesis) rather than letting Scripture say what it says (exegesis). See, the thing about interpreting prophecy is that you have to be careful how you do it, and, just like all Scripture, make sure it’s within the proper context. 

In the case of this chapter of Isaiah, the wider context is that it’s a prediction of Jesus’ suffering on earth and His death. One of the verses he tries to pass off about Jesus being ugly or deformed is the second part of verse 3: “and as one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” The problem is, this verse and one directly after it are not about his physical appearance at all. They are about emotions and grief: “He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteem him stricken, smitten by God and afflicted” (vs. 3-4, emphasis mine). This is about Him bearing our burdens and our rejection of Him anyway. This is a parallel that continues as the chapter moves forward. 

There is only one physical description in this passage that is not related to His death, and it’s the second part of verse 2: “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” And this is the only point that Mr Abernethy got correct: Jesus wasn’t the Hollywood definition of drop-dead gorgeous. He looked like your average Joe. In order to not be conventionally beautiful/handsome, that does not dictate that a person must be deformed or “ugly” in any way. The only thing this verse means is that he didn’t stand out from the crowd with His looks. He didn’t look the way they thought their Savior should. That’s it. That’s all it means.

.

.

5. Tradition isn't truth (no matter how much anyone wants it to be). I have to admit, adding in a section about a so-called “tradition” that’s nigh on impossible to find anything about was brilliant. The average person wouldn’t even bother looking in the first place, and most people who would look, would give up after five or ten minutes of searching. I spent an hour and found exactly nothing on this “tradition” of Jesus being a leper. So you just... have to take Abernethy’s word for it. 

Aside from not being able to find anything on it myself, the argument he uses is faulty anyway. Because tradition doesn’t equal truth, in the first place, especially a tradition that didn’t pop up until the 16th century. There’s no basis for something that apparently wasn’t known until 1400 years after His death. 

Aside from that, he calls on Jerome’s Latin translation of Isaiah 53:4 that translates a phrase as “he was like a leper.” First of all, “like a leper” does not mean He actually was a leper. C’mon, man. Any fifth grader in America could tell you that similes are used for comparisons and aren’t literal. 

Second of all, if you’d like to make a point, it’s a much better idea to go back to the Hebrew manuscripts rather than to any one translation. Now, I don’t know Hebrew myself, but I do have access to a little thing called the Internet, where you can find a plethora of commentaries from people who do know Hebrew. For this particular problem, I went to Albert Barne’s Notes on the Whole Bible. I’m not going to put his whole notes here (because there’s a lot), but if you’d like to read all of his notes, you can search the verse on studylight.org and use the ‘jump to’ feature under the verse to find him, but the bottom line of his notes on it are this: Jesus wasn’t literally being rightfully punished like the Jews would incorrectly think; leprosy was used here as an example because it was seen as a divine punishment for sin. It has nothing to do with literal leprosy at all. 

And to top off this cake of incorrectness... well, has he even read the New Testament? If Jesus had had leprosy, He: a. wouldn’t have been allowed in temples or synagogues, b. wouldn’t have been allowed in towns period, and c. wouldn’t have been nailed to a cross because no one would have risked touching Him in order to do so. Abernethy shouldn’t have even brought this up in his argument, it’s so far off base, and no artist in the 16th century should have painted a painting of a leprous Jesus nailed to the cross because, quite simply, it never would have happened.

.

.

6. Jesus relates to us -- but not in the ways Mr Abernethy says. While he never cites any Scripture on this, I’m pretty sure I know where this idea came from. In his article, he states that in order for Jesus to have related to the disabled, He had to be disabled Himself. Since He relates to us, then He must have been disabled. 

First of all, the logical fallacy of this statement is this: if He must be disabled to relate to the disabled, then can the abled still relate to Him? The answer to that, of course, would be no, because if He wasn’t abled then He can’t relate to the abled in the same way that Abernethy asserts that He can’t relate to the disabled without being disabled. It’s one of those things where you can’t have it both ways. Another example of how this logic falls short is pregnancy. Can Jesus not relate to pregnant people because He Himself was never in such a state? And the rabbit hole just gets deeper from there: Can He relate specifically to the blind when He was never blind? How about the deaf or hard of hearing? Or people missing limbs, either from birth or through amputation? All disabilities are different, and experiencing one doesn’t mean you understand them all, so by Abernethy’s logic, Jesus had to experience all of them. Do you see how ridiculous Abernethy’s logic here is yet? 

Second of all, Abernethy is, once again, taking Scripture entirely out of context -- if, indeed, he got this idea from Scripture at all. Hebrews 4:15 says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” The problem with trying to use this verse as proof is, obviously, that it’s talking about temptations (Matthew 4:1-11), not lived experiences. If he was, again, referencing Isaiah 53 -- well, that doesn’t work either, because, again, that is in reference to His death and the sins He bore for us on the cross. The fact of the matter is, there are no Scriptures to back up the idea that He had to personally experience everything we do in order for Him to understand our pain and suffering. 

.

.

The source of this heresy is the same as many heresies, actually: People want to make Jesus into something He's not. I listened to a podcast recently where the host was talking about a couple of heretics, and while I don't remember the heretic's name, he said that to him, Jesus was Latinx because he himself is Latinx. Except that, ya know, Jesus was a Middle-Eastern Jew. It's the same fallacy to say that Jesus was disabled. Everyone wants Jesus -- and God, for that matter -- to be something He's not, rather than for Him to be what Scripture tells us He is, but you can't force God into the box you've carved for Him. He is who He is, no matter how much you want Him to be something different.

There's no getting around it: to make Him out to be anything other than what Scripture tells us He is -- especially when it contradicts Scripture, is heresy.

[therappundit]

Best of the 1st Half: 2020′s Best Rap Projects (*so far*)...

“I’ve had, the halftime of my life...!”

*record scratch*

2020, WHAT THE F**K. 😳

Ohhh what a first half it has been. If 2020 ended today, it would still be one of the most historic years in a century...and NOT in a pleasant way. Years from now 2020 will be studied for the long-term damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the potential breaking point (hopefully??) of this country’s ignorance to systematic racism and the need for a complete overhaul of our police departments, and of course, whatever the hell comes from the November Presidential election....and, not to mention whatever additional ‘tbd’ chaos rings in the second half of ‘20 that we haven’t even heard about yet!? These are trying times, folks.

My whole life, I have tried to use humor and entertainment to help me with processing high levels of stress and anxiety. This year, that process has felt more daunting than usual. I am writing less and less, and often find Twitter to be too dark of a place for me to navigate. It’s anything but a fulfilling “escape”. Still, I am constantly inspired by all of the new music that fills my headspace during life’s precious little moments, and it really keeps me grounded in the day to day. 

At the end of 2019, I wrote the below in one of my posts. It took me back to a special feeling that I had, at a moment when the future seemed more like an opportunity, rather than a worrisome question mark. I’m going to work towards finding that place again, and I wanted to re-share this because it speaks to how the love of any art can be a healthy reminder of what we have to be thankful for in our daily lives:

“Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years…I suppose time will tell.”

This list is long, because I think the talent that went into these projects is worth your time (and I put a lot of thought into creating this list as well...I do not work in the industry or know anyone that does, and I do not have any real platform - I just do this because I love the music).

If you are an artist on this list, I want to thank you, because you helped me stay positive and focused on a brighter future that I hope will soon come to us all...because everyone has been through something this year, and we deserve better.  So salute to you and many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

- THE Rap Pundit

The “Rules” for my list of the Best Projects of Q1-Q2 2020:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/whatever you want to call it had to be released this year, by June 26, 2020

- the project must have at least 6 songs 

- these rankings are a combination of my own personal preference, my take on overall quality of the project (whether it speaks deeply to my sensibilities or not), and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/‘sub-genre’ of rap music

So here we go 👀...

1. The Price of Tea in China by Boldy James and The Alchemist

Sometimes the greatest albums are not the most ambitious or flashy, they are remembered based off the strength of artistic chemistry and execution. Basketball fans know the beauty of a perfectly timed chest pass to a teammate streaking towards the basket can be more impressive than a behind the back pass that’s simply done for the sake of showing everyone that you can do a fancy pass. Staying with that theme, The Price of Tea in China is The Alchemist doing his best John Stockton impression, serving to Boldy James’ Karl Malone, and by album’s end you realize that Boldy scored a quiet 40 points while making this rap shit look like an easy lay-up.

TPOTIC finds Boldy sprinkling every ounce of his Detroit seasoning into Al’s pot to yield one of the most Mobb Deep-esque collaboration albums since Mobb Deep was dropping albums. In turn, this project is not only Boldy’s greatest work, but it serves as a re-introduction of a veteran MC that is suddenly more relevant than ever.  Much like what Freddie Gibbs and Madlib did with 2019′s Bandana, this project is a great lesson on what MC and Producer chemistry can sound like when both parties are 100% on the same page when it comes to message, tone, and aesthetic goals. 

It would make sense that Boldy James would fall into the Griselda fold, because much like Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, he comes from a city with a rich rap music scene that still struggles to reach the level of exposure that the NYCs, L.A.’s, Chicago's and Atlanta’s have basked in for so long. He writes from a place of “been there, done that”, showing a rich attention to detail that separates his street tales from that of his peers in the same way someone telling a story second or third hand can’t match the level of detail that an eye witness has saved in the memory bank. Boldy has survived both real world and music business challenges to rise from the ashes of “hey whatever happened to so & so, he was about to blow” conversations to reach a new peak in his mid-30′s. He deserved this suite of incredible Alchemist soundscapes (Al is deep in his bag here, delivering some of his most low-key impressive instrumentals in years), and like his super-producer buddy, Boldy is looking down at us from atop an already prolific 2020 at its’ midpoint.  

I’m not sure anyone can match the chemistry that Prodigy and Mobb Deep had with The Alchemist, but in 2020, The Price of Tea in China delivers some of the most brutally subdued, occasionally humorous, stripped down rap records since P was throwing TV’s at us like he had nothing left to lose. If The Price of Tea in China isn’t holding the championship at year’s end, it still deserves to be mentioned as an impressive work by one of the strongest title-worthy unions running the pick and roll in the genre today.

2. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue 

Okay let’s be honest: the “sub-genre” that is often referred to as lo-fi rap music (whether you consider it an actual lane or not, I know you know what I’m talking about...which I suppose proves its’ existence, right?), is beginning to suffer from the same affliction that all other sub-genres tend to suffer from once the word is out that this is “the thing” that the kids find trendy right now. A lot of folks in this lane sound *exactly* the same to the average listener. I’m not even the average listener, and I often feel that way. The irony that comes with being part of the sound that’s supposed to be bucking the mainstream clone machine turning into a mini-clone machine itself, means that the window is in danger of closing to avoid over-saturation of the artists that are already thriving between the gravelly, whisper-welcoming walls of Soundcloud URLs and Bandcamp EPs being slid to their heady fanbase with zero promotion. So with that all being said...why give Navy Blue a chance?

Navy Blue lacks the name recognition of many of his peers (for now), but he has now been thriving in the lo-fi pocket for some time as both a MC and producer, a young artist that’s closely connected to the lane’s most famous figureheads (Earl Sweatshirt, and to some extent, Mach-Hommy), as well as less heralded trailblazers like MIKE and the whole sLUms collective. Sure you can check out Navy’s Soundcloud page to get a taste of his work, but with this Àdá Irin album, we don’t just hear raw snippets of a freshly discovered unsigned talent. With this album we hear Navy as a self-assured solo artist, capable of sharing an inspirational song with the likes of Ka and sounding like every bit of the veteran next to the iconic soft-spoken lyricist. This is a very, very impressive debut full length album that showcases the best that the (sub)genre has to offer: some experimentation, jazzy loops, the diary-like intimacy of words that sit like dust on an old basement book shelf, and the raw emotions that come from working through love, pain and loss in real time. In 2020 there may be nothing completely new under the sun, but it’s the aesthetic choices that Navy Blue makes with every verse and every instrumental that make Àdá Irin feel like a perfect balance of beauty and sadness. If you want to dip a toe in this water but you’re not sure you can get into the mumblecore-ish world of MIKE, MAVI, Medhane or Earl’s work from the past two years, this Navy Blue album might actually be the perfect intro.

3. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

Not a lot of positive breaking news in 2020...but when Jay Electronica surprised Twitter with a few cryptic Tweets back in February, implying that he was dropping an album (and Jay-Z would likely be involved), the rap game was set ablaze with excitement, skepticism, disbelief, and hope (albeit with some measured caution there as well). 

This is something that fans, and arguably the entire rap world, had been clamoring for for a decade, many long since moving on believing that Jay Elec’s debut album had gone the way of Detox, sharing “1a & 1b” status as the most eagerly anticipated projects none of us seriously expected to hear. 

Then it dropped....and then it went. In a Twitter-run rap world, quality is too often measured by how long a piece of art stays within the “trending” mix, as opposed to...well, whether or not it’s actually good! The truth is, A Written Testimony is not just good, it’s very, very good, and while it’s not the “Illmatic 2″ that some may have been expecting, realistically it’s superior to what I imagined a new project from such a reclusive artist would sound like in 2020. If you at least try to table the expectations laid out when “Exhibit C” came out in 2009...I think you will find a project (it’s up to you whether or not you want to count this a “solo debut” or not, but at this point, it’s new Jay Electronica - can we just leave it at that??) stacked with memorable moments, quotable gems throughout, stellar production (this is one of the best produced projects of 2020 by far, not sure how/why this piece of the puzzle would receive anything less than acclaim), and some moments of questionable preaching made more palatable by a strong overall voice and package.

Jay Electronica raps with conviction throughout, and while the project feels brief, it lasts long enough to be more than a quick feeling, even if many feel that it’s not long enough to feel like a full album. If "Exhibit C" was the teaser then this is the redband trailer, flashing enough skill and details to resonate for far longer than its’ duration. Much has been said about the heavy hand of JAY-Z on most of the project’s 7 tracks, but let’s be clear, this is not Watch The Throne 2 (even though at points, it may feel like something along those lines). Yes, in impressive fashion, Hov comes through riding shotgun to show a deeper shade of one of his more complex dimensions, with many of his rhymes begging for dissection with every bar. However, AWT features a JAY-Z that’s rapping through Jay Electronica’s lens, not by any means where 4:44 or Everything Is Love left off. This is definitely a Jay Electronica album. AWT dives in and out of Jay Electronica’s beliefs in broad strokes that appear and disappear rather quickly, but even when certain verses raise more questions than provide answers, every song still has at least a handful of the gripping words that remind us of what made Jay Elec-Hanukkah sound like the chosen one in the first place (his tussle with writer’s block and hesitation to put out any art make for some of the projects most engaging moments).

If A Written Testimony is the last Jay Electronica album we ever here - which I truly hope it is not the case - it is still a memorable piece of work. So if you were one of the folks that moved on from it after the “surprise” of Jay finally dropping a project subsided, I hope you change that stance and revisit it once again.

4. Descendants of Cain by Ka

“Quiet and frigid disposition, growin' up in the cold /  Surprised I ain't get high from what I was low enough to behold /  Like when Pops shot at the neighbor's shop, put one in his head /  He knew how he grew me, threw me the gun, a hundred, and fled /  Didn't play, 'fore po' arose dispose of exhibit A / I was raised to age a few years in a day /  If not elite, didn't eat if you didn't pray /  As much as I heal, had to deal, all my scars are here to stay /  Our senseis spent days peddling /  Our heroes sold heroin.” - Ka, “Patron Saints”

He makes it seem almost too easy. If the writing wasn't so gripping, you might not even revisit it. Ka’s Descendants of Cain arrived with little fanfare, except for the collective awe of his humble but religiously devoted fan-base. The religious devotion is an important piece here, as Cain adds to Ka’s quietly impressive discography another strong album that leans on classic scribes as inspiration to spin poignant metaphors on Brooklyn street philosophy. 

This time, the classic work is the Christian Bible, and Ka being the brilliant MC/poet that he is, seems to have little trouble working with the medium to preach without sounding preachy, and wax familiar-sounding nostalgia over wax that sounds as dusty as it feels fresh, rich, and urgent. Producing much of the album himself, along with a few trusted collaborators, the album’s strength is in its’ density, as each song feels like it requires a pause to unpack every bar...and to be honest, that’s exactly the type of attention this work deserves. If you missed this one in the first half of 2020′s feverish dump of new releases, you need to remedy that immediately.

5. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn 

If The Alchemist is the overall rap music MVP for his many contributions to 2020 thus far,  Westside Gunn may deserve at least a few honorable mentions. From becoming the ambassador of Buffalo New York to stepping up as an ambassador of the underground rap resurgence, I don’t think any other rap artist has done more to run with the torch that Roc Marciano has been waving for a damn decade than the Griselda mastermind. If you happened to hear Gunn name-dropping to Peter Rosenberg on Rosenberg’s long-standing Real Late show on Hot 97, you know exactly what I mean. Shouting-out close allies and lesser known peers alike, Gunn’s presence proudly announced the underground movement’s invasion of the highly known New York City radio station. It felt like ECW invading WWE’s Monday Night Raw all over again. Of course Gunn’s voice was met with more ears than usual during that interview, since that appearance came hot off the heels of the release of his much discussed side project turned full-blown album, Pray for Paris.

By now most fervent rap fans know the story behind the album (a project that miraculously arrived to completion while Gunn was suffering from the affects of coronavirus), but for many Pray for Paris is the introduction to the story of Griselda Records and the world that they revel in. If Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher are responsible for the Griselda team’s grittiest street tales, Westside Gunn’s success leans on his ability to blur the line between all-too-real violence and cartoon violence, splattered with elite luxury references and shout-outs for his fellow wrestling addicts. The song titles are merely scattered trains of thoughts that may or may not have anything directly to do with a song’s actual meaning, it’s like naming your child ‘brunch in Williamsburg’ just because it was the last meal you happened to have that day. An audience brought up on Lil Wayne as the God MC may be completely lost at the appeal, but audiences brought up on Wu, DOOM and Sean Price know exactly what vibe Westisde Gunn is going for.

At times Gunn can come across as more of a talent curator than a stand alone MC, so if this is the album that takes Gunn to the next level as a rap star, it would make him the most unselfish rap star to come along in some time. A rapper doesn’t jump on an Alchemist produced track with the likes of Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano and expect to leave with anything but the Bronze medal. The same can be said for his chopped and screwed contribution to “Claiborne Kick”, which clearly belongs to Boldy James. That’s not to say that Gunn’s verse is a weak moment on any of the joints on Paris, but the fact that he consistently surrounds himself with high caliber writers confirms that he is well aware that the quality of the final product will be determined by the team involved, not just the artists’ name on the album cover.

For someone that considers himself more of an artist than a rapper, he continues to paint intriguing collages with every album, featuring him at the center of an ever-expanding portrait of MCs, producers, singers, designers, and dancers. Pray for Paris is a typical Griselda project that also happens to sport the potential of something larger than most of their fanbase ever imagined. Yes we get the dark backdrops, elite underground production, and quotables throughout, but we also get a few additional shades, as Gunn dabbles with a “beauty and the beast” dynamic that cleanly pairs his violent imagery with fashionista pomp and circumstance (which no doubt helped draw the likes of Wale and Tyler, the Creator to this project). But t’s all less of a solo album to push a mainstream solo career forward, and much more of a cannonball through the mainstream wall, just to allow some sunlight to shine on his people...and his city, for that matter - because best believe, Paris may be the inspiration behind the project but Buffalo, New York is still with him every step of the way. 

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

A highly enjoyable surprise drop from two-thirds of the potent combination that gave us the fan favorite project that was Fetti (shout-out to Curren$y, though), Alfredo feels like the perfect treat to hold us over during these trying times. It feels rushed, but simultaneously sharp and activated. It has the feeling of a controlled experiment that was slapped together in separate rooms, rather than carefully curated by multiple artists hunched over the same mixer for days on end. Alfredo is more of a display of two power hitters putting on an impressive showing at a Home Run Derby, rather than the collaboration that has been slowly simmering for years...but that’s also part of the fun, because it feels like Al & Fredo (eh?) were just as excited to release it as we all were to hear it.

Neither party is reinventing the wheel here, but if you are going to have a rapper and a producer connect for an album of great rapping over great beats, you would be hard pressed to find a more natural pairing than these two. The Alchemist delivers with samples that channel the speakeasy jazz of an old piano, and Freddie is simply the king of hard-rap soul right now, so he excels on every song. There are moments of darkness, moments of hope, and moments of self reflection (Gibbs is a logical choice to swing haymakers back at cops abusing their power), all delivered by Freddie at a break-neck speed over Al's significantly less urgent production....as if Gibbs frantically spilled his guts to his buddy over the phone while Al was kickin’ back with a joint saying “uh-huh...yup, I hear ya man.” The final result is an effective one, if not a quick teaser of what a lengthier amount of collaboration time between the two might sound like. It should also be said that the guest verses on this album (especially those from Tyler, The Creator and Conway) took this album up a few spots on this ‘best of’ list. Alfredo is easily one of the strongest surprises of 2020.

7. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

There is a tradition in the rap music biz that newer/younger artists are often shepherded along by more seasoned artists in order to insure that the less experienced artist is blessed with the built-in audience that comes with a co-sign. It doesn’t always work, but typically the initiation comes with a solid musical foundation on a debut project accompanied by a greener MC still finding his/her way. Not the case with Stove God Cook$, he is perhaps the most unexpectedly fresh MC to be cut from classic rap cloth since Griselda & Mach-Hommy began to build cult-like followings.

While Reasonable Drought (and seriously, how bold of a title is that for a debut!?) is blessed by the impressive production and mentorship of underground rap icon Roc Marciano, it truly is the lesser known MC himself that captures the imagination right from the get-go. When I say that in my life time, I cannot recall such a strong debut performance by a MC that I have heard virtually no work from prior to his 2019 emergence, with the help of minimal publicity/ad budget (if any? Cook$ was barely on social media until *after* his album had already been released) on his way to dropping an album with zero features...then you should take my recommendation very seriously. Fresh style, some of the most rewind-worthy quotables in recent memory (an Uncle Buck reference!? Bow down, people), and a new following built exclusively on the word of mouth of equal-minded folks that were blown away by a project many copped on a passing whim... it’s clear that this moment could be the beginning of an amazing, fascinating career. 

Similar to Roc Marciano before him, Cook$ possesses a rare flare with his wordplay and delivery that makes even the ugliest tales of coke dealing and disrespectful criminal activity sound like the colorful exploits of a post-Blaxploitation hero. He delivers every bar with the uber-specific word choice of Roc, but the outgoing swag of a Max B. The man that has people that never touched cocaine in their life singing that they’re “smelling like a brick right now”, is smelling like a winner in 2020 and beyond.

8. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

Last call to board the Mutant Academy bandwagon! 

I have been saying that this deep underground collective of MCs & producers has been low key having a banner year all year long, and scrolling through this list you can see exactly what I mean. Henny L.O. is too good to be slotted as just a battle rapper, while Monday Night is far too strong of a presence to be considered a mere associate of the core Mutant team. When you think of Mutant Academy and their respective affiliated acts, think of them as a gathering of solo artists that happen to make dope rap music together, but all parties involved are capable of standing on their own two. I think that’s what consistently impresses me about their projects...hat, and the lack of filler material.

Along with a deep Rolodex of mostly under-the-radar talent, the hunger and confidence of a thriving Richmond, Viriginia rap scene is present on every track of Battle Scar Decorated. Much like many of my favorite albums of 2020, there is no reinventing of the wheel here, the triumph is in the execution. Monday & Henny tag in and out, each with the confidence that they have spit the best verse on the song before they have even finished. It’s that level of ability combined with a shocking amount of production talent that makes Battle Scar Decorated essential listening to anyone that wants to be reminded of a vibe that hasn’t been in abundance in the underground rap scene since L.A. in the late 90′s. It wouldn’t be fair to talk about how much I enjoyed this project without including the great producers involved, so a big s/o to: Sycho Sid, C.R.I.S.T.E.N, James Couch, Savvy, Heather Grey, and Ewonne.

9. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

Accompanied by a who’s who of underground hip-hop’s finest (Roc Marciano, Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, Quelle Chris, Nickelus F, Tree, Navy Blue, Billy Woods, Ka *and more* - I mean seriously!?), Preservation has assembled an impressively cohesive compilation album both sonically and thematically. 

Incorporating record samples from his travels in China, Eastern Medicine, Western Illness feels born in simplicity even though it is anything but a casual collection of dope verses over tightly wound production. A quietly gifted producer, Preservation knows how to squeeze the best out of his guests without shouting the results through the speakers, the choices are more subtle but yield a high impact and replay value. Listening to the project feels more like listening to a secret, unreleased project, because it’s hard to believe that this much talent would gift this much high caliber writing to a compilation of songs...although that was not uncommon in the 90′s and early 00′s (ah, I’m showing my old age again). Perhaps that’s a testament to Preservation’s vision, a DJ/producer with a relatively small catalog built on curated quality (see his fantastic 2015 collaboration with Ka on Days With Dr. Yen Lo). Eastern Medicine has enough talent involved that it could have been a worthy listen even if it was just as a hodgepodge of donated loosies, so the fact that the final product is so much more than that makes it an album that warrants a great deal of more attention.

10. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

No accomplished lyricist makes life harder on himself than Royce Da 5′9″. Be it his tendency to cram personal observations and disclosures in and around his punchlines, or experimenting production wise, the Detroit veteran is intent on finding new ways to approach fine wine music, tossing more complex offerings into his catalog over the past few years. Things are no different with The Allegory. 

Not only did Royce once again pen an album that speaks to his ability to cope with his own past and present, he inserts himself in the producer chair as well, addressing the trials and tribulations of the increasingly problematic world around him, over backdrops crafted by only his hand a a few trusted peers. The effect is mostly successful, with the production exceeding the expectations of many (myself included), while the writing is at times both thought-provoking and in need of further exploration on Royce’s part. The guest features range from effective to scene stealing (not because Royce ‘s verse is outshined, but there are moments where it seems as if the guest is better suited over Royce’s own production than he is). If you’re Royce Da 5′9″ and you release an album titled The Allegory, no one should expect a simple quick fix of bars over easily digestible instrumentals. The highs come in abundance, and while the lows come in small trip-ups and the occasional skit that the listener probably could have done without, you get the sense that with some editing and further focus of his lofty goals, his sermons could have been sharpened into a more effective analysis of many of his topics (the music business, being black in America, history, conspiracy theories), resulting in an incredible album instead of a very good one. Nevertheless, it is all worth the ride to hear the latest work from one of rap music’s most gifted MC’s from the past decade. If The Allegory isn’t a home-run, it’s at the very least a strong base hit.

Top 50 (all belong in the Top 10-25, but...there’s only 25 spots in the Top 25, soooo):

11. Cold Water by Medhane

12. Shrines by Armand Hammer

13. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

14. Try Again by ovrkast.

15. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

16. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

17. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

18. Weight of the World by MIKE

19. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

20. Milestones by Skyzoo

21. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

22. Lake Water by SeKwence

23. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

24. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

25. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

26. The Blue Tape by Tree

27. lo&behold by lojii

28. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

29. FULL CIRCLE by Medhane

30. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

31. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

32. Anyways by Young Nudy

33. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

34. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

35. THE GOAT by Polo G

36. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii 

37. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

38. My Turn by Lil Baby 

39. No One Mourns the Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost Ltd.

40. Two4one by Jay Worthy 

41. Free Drakeo by Drakeo

42. Alone Time by YL

43. Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$

44. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

45. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

46. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

47. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

48. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

49. Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh

50. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 50 releases of 2020, but..what can I say, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music/events I guess):

Black Schemata by yungmorpheus,  The Smartest by Tee Grizzley,  Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist,  High Off Life by Future,  Gotham City Album by Plex Diamonds,  Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain,  Styles David: Ghost Your Enthusiasm by Styles P,  MF Bloo by Bloo & Spanish Ran,  LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson,  Funeral by Lil Wayne,  RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics,  Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine,  ShrapKnel (self-titled),  The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station,  WUNNA by Gunna,  Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran,  Open Casket by Killer Kane,  6 Rings by Yung Mal,  The Beauty of It by Eto,  Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke,  Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah,  Vito by Vince Ash,  GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza,  RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly,  Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest,  EVERYTHING by Kota the Friend,  NO Blade of Grass by V Don,  Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert,  I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy,  Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason,  Viral Viral! by Dunbar,  Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca,  Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco,  DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon,  Burn One, Tap In, Zone Out by Dot Demo,  FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O,   PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty,  Death 2 All Haterz 2 by Rigz & Symph,  Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn,  Adjust to the Game by Larry June,  Martyr’s Prayer by Elcamino & 38 Spesh,  BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock,  Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 by $ilkMoney,  No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris,  Hear No Equal by Chuuwee,  MSYKM by Tsu Surf,  Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs,  Spring Clean by Curren$y & Fuse,  Arctic Plus Degrees (The Sun Don’t Chill Allah) by Planet Asia & DirtyDiggs,  Psychological Cheat Sheet by Vic Spencer, Glass 2.0 by Meyhem Lauren & Harry Fraud,  Trust the Chain by Planet Asia & 38 Spesh, Director’s Cut (Scene Two) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, and Son Of A Gun by Key Glock.

[afternoonpoppy]

Caught

(A scenario I’ve had floating around for a while with a couple other characters. Dunno if I’ll do more with them but eheheh this was fun.)

Percy approached the old, worn down building with caution in the darkness of the night. It was a small cottage with notable wear and tear on the wooden walls and the thatch roof, and it stood some distance away from the other homes of the village, leaving it a single isolated structure surrounded by some sparse trees and bushes. Had Percy not known better, he would have assumed the place to be abandoned. He made note of a wooden sign hanging over the front entrance that read 'Mildred's Minimal-Effort Hexes' and came to a stop by one of the windows. Reaching into one of his coat pockets, Percy retrieved a small velvet drawstring pouch, a helpful gift from his employer.

Percy opened the pouch, the inside filled with a batch of sparkling silver powder. Following the instructions he'd been given, Percy sprinkled some of the powder along the windowsill, then whispered the phrase, "Os, nir voi." He had no idea what the words meant, exactly, but it did the trick as the powder glimmered with dim light for a few seconds even in the darkness before fading. Then, Percy heard a small click sound and the window slowly and silently opened, moving on its own. Percy watched the sight, then grinned. He didn't know much of anything about magic, but this was even easier than his usual use of lockpicks.

There was still some powder left in the pouch, so Percy opted to hang onto that just in case he might need it for... his own purposes later on down the road, and he pulled the drawstring shut and tucked the pouch back into his coat pocket before pulling himself over the windowsill and slipping inside of the cottage. The building was musty inside, and the room he found himself in was full of cluttered shelves covered in pots and jars. Some of them were full of liquids or powders while others held dried leaves, and others were too darkly-colored to see through. A few more shelves on a wall at the end of the room held messy stacks of books and papers that didn't seem to be organized in any particular order, much to Percy's annoyance. What sort of lunatic wouldn't even alphabetize their books? He looked over the titles on the shelf, but none were what he was looking for so he stepped out of this room.

The cottage only had three rooms on the first floor, one being the entrance with a small counter like the front of a shop, and the other being a kitchen, neither particularly relevant to Percy's work here. That meant he'd need to head up the staircase to the second floor and check there... But as he was turning away from the kitchen doorway to do so, something caught his eye. A small parcel of parchment paper tied shut and adorned with a bright pink ribbon, sitting on the kitchen counter. Given that the rest of the kitchen was simple wood in every aspect - walls, floor, counter space, and cabinets - the parcel's bright decoration stood out and caught Percy's curiosity. Seeing as how the cottage should have been empty right now anyway, there couldn't be any harm in taking a peek...

Percy made careful note of how the ribbon was tied and the parchment was folded so that he could set everything back as it was afterward and untied the ribbon, opening the parcel. Inside was a small box that turned out to be filled with chocolates of all things. Not something he'd expected to see in a witch's home, but... Not at all unpleasant. Percy grabbed a pair of the chocolates and popped them into his mouth to eat them, figuring he might as well enjoy a treat for himself while he was here. He did enjoy some sweets every now and then, after all, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that these chocolates were especially delicious. Honestly, after he'd finished those two he was tempted to just take the whole box with him since he was already in the middle of committing crimes anyw -

'Huc-UP!'

Percy's hand flew up over his mouth as the sudden hiccup surprised him and broke the silence of the cottage. He feared that had been loud enough to have been heard outside of the room. Even without anyone else around to hear, he instinctively looked around for any sign of activity in this room or the next. After a moment, Percy allowed himself to relax, chuckling softly at himself. 

'Hic-UP! HUC!'

Well, dammit. A stray hiccup or two was one thing, but a full case of them, especially when Percy was in the middle of working, was outright annoying. He inhaled a deep breath and held it, muffling the next hiccup into a 'HRMPH!' that was strong enough to hurt his chest, though he kept his focus on trying to get them to stop. When he couldn't take it anymore, he exhaled and waited a few seconds. Much to his relief, there didn't seem to be any further -

'HIGK!'

Dammit! Percy sighed, knowing he was just going to have to put up with it. He was getting paid to work, not regret his quick snack. He reached for the box and parchment to wrap it back up, hiccuping loudly once more, but stopped when he suddenly heard a woman's voice from somewhere outside the room.

"Is somebody there?"

Percy froze and his heartbeat quickened. He barely remembered to hold his breath and clasp a hand over his mouth in time to muffle another hiccup, eyes wide. He quickly looked over the kitchen for an escape route. There wasn't supposed to be anyone here! His employer specifically made certain no one would be here before he arrived!

The window. Percy made his way to the window as quietly as he could, doing everything in his power to keep his hiccups quiet, why did he have to end up with a case of the hiccups now of all times. He unclasped the window's lock and tried to open it - but it wouldn't budge! Why?! It didn't seem to be stuck, exactly, but it just wouldn't move even though Percy was trying to open it from the inside. Was this part of the resident witch's magic?

The footsteps were coming closer to the kitchen. Should he use the rest of the powder to try and open the window? But that would require the spell incantation to activate it and that would mean opening his mouth to speak and he was still - 'HMPH' - plagued with muffled hiccups that were making his chest sore. No dice. Percy opened the nearest base cabinet door and slipped inside as quickly as he could without knocking over too many of the bottles that were stored inside. He pulled the cabinet door shut and still held one hand over his mouth, the other over his chest. He inhaled a fresh breath of air through his nose and held it just as he heard the kitchen door creak open.

"Hellooo~" the woman's voice called in a sing-songy tone. "Do I have an unexpected guest?" Footsteps came into the center of the kitchen, pacing around a bit on the wooden flooring. Then there was a playful laugh. "Did somebody sneak a few of my chocolates? That's cute."

What a fine mess this was turning into. Percy was quite confident in his ability to run if it came to it, at the very lea - 'HRMPH,' ow. He really hoped the witch couldn't hear that.

"Hmm, hm..." There was a long, awful pause. On top of the soreness in his chest, it was getting difficult for Percy to keep holding his breath like this. Then, the voice sighed in an almost frustrated tone. "Posho!" she called as if speaking to someone in another room. "There's no one in here, let's check outside!"

Yes, good, good. Percy listened carefully, hearing the footsteps leave the room. The door shut, and then a far more muffled creaking of floorboards could be heard in the next room. Percy waited until he heard the fainter sounds of another door outside of this room open and shut, followed by the sound of the voice speaking to whoever 'Posho' was. The words were hard to make out from here, but the direction it came from sounded like... yes! She was outside!

This was his chance - Percy would use the powder to open the window, hiccups be damned, and then make a dash out of this place. Failing that, he'd just go for the front door or the window he'd come from and hope he could outrun a witch and her magic. He reached for the pouch in his coat pocket and allowed himself to exhale the breath he'd been holding, immediately being greeted with a loud 'HIGK! Huc-UP!'

Percy instantly regretted that as the cabinet door swung open and he was greeted by the grinning face of a young woman leaning down to see more easily into the cabinet. "Found you!" She was the owner of the voice, for sure.

"Wha - how - HUC!" Percy pressed himself against the back of the cabinet in confused panic.

The witch, a woman wearing a black dress and with messy, long hair that had been colored a vibrant purple, said, "Umm, I'm a witch is how. Like ventriloquism, but better! Now, let's get you out of there. Posho, be a dear." A small black cat that was winding its way between the witch's feet trotted forward, tail held high, and grabbed ahold of Percy's pant leg with its mouth. Percy reached for the cat to try and push it away but found that his hand passed right through it like it was made of shadows rather than fur! The shadow cat began pulling on Percy's pant leg and displayed nonsensical strength as it managed to drag Percy along the floor behind it.

"Hey, stop - HUC-UP - stop that!" Percy clung to the frame of the cabinet doorway as he was pulled along. "I - I'm sorry! I didn't - HIC! Hic - I didn't take anything aside from the chocolate! Please don't curse me!" Well, he didn't yet, but he didn't need to mention that part.

"Don't... curse you?" The witch's grin was more of a smirk now. "Sweetheart, I'm a hex specialist. Cursing people is what I do. Didn't you see the sign? Mildred's Minimal-Effort Hexes! I tried to make it alliterative since I thought it would be catchier for customers, but, uh, that's hard so I... Eh." She shrugged, apparently losing interest in her own tangent. "Anywho! It's too late for your request since you're already hexed, silly."

"I... huh? What do you - HUP!"

"Those fun little hiccups are what I mean. Do what you want but you're not getting them to go away until the magic wears off."

Percy lost both his battle with the cat and his grip on the cabinet and looked up at the witch in confusion while he was dragged out into the center of the kitchen floor. "You can give someone hiccu - HIC-UP! ... Hiccups with magic? Why would you even..."

The witch - or Mildred, Percy supposed - shrugged. "Well, it's useful against other spellcasters. Interrupting an incantation in the works is a fun time. But this batch was for a customer so, by the way, I'll need to replace the ones you ate. Whatever they were gonna do with them is none of my business, though. More importantly! What brings a respectful guest such as you to my humble abode?"

"I, um..." Percy debated which would be worse, lying to the witch in front of him or selling out the one who had hired him.

Mildred knelt down on the floor next to him. "You know... I can make those hiccups you've given yourself permanent if you don't talk."

Nope, that wouldn't do in Percy's line of work. "Wait, alright, I - hic - HUC - I was hired by Esmerelda from the herbalist's gu - HYUCK - guild in the next village to steal your recipe book so she could - HIGLK - make more efficient treatments for your hexes!"

"She what?!" Mildred's playful expression became angry instead and she pushed herself up off of the floor to storm over to the kitchen cabinets. "Is that what she thinks she's going to do, just undo all of my hard work?! She'll ruin my reputation if my customers think my spells are worthless against her stupid restoration magic!" She was furiously flinging open cabinet doors and piling jars and bags of ingredients into her arms.

Percy realized the cat had released him and he slowly stood up from the floor. "So... Can I - HUP - leave now?"

Mildred glanced back at him for just a moment. "Whuh? Oh, no, no, of course not. We've got work to do."

"... We?"

"Yes. I have to admit, I didn't even know you were here until I heard your hiccuping from all the way upstairs -" so it really was that loud... "- so you're at least pretty good at sneaking around if you exercise common sense and don't eat food in a witch's house, you silly. So! You're going to help me get back at Esmerelda."

"I... Do I - HUC - HIC-UP - have to?" Even knowing he wasn't in much of a position to argue, Percy was still going to damn well try. "Maybe you could just - HIGK - stop these hiccups for me and I could, uh, clean up your house or something as an apology?"

Mildred finally turned her full attention back to Percy and said in a deadpan tone, "Are you saying my house is dirty?" She then lightened up and added, "Besides, I told you those aren't going away until the magic wears off in... Oh, a few hours or so? I don't do curative magics. Now then! Let Posho give you a tour of the house, get yourself acquainted while I whip up a fun little spell for Esmerelda."

Percy grimaced, seeing that it didn't seem like he'd be getting out of this just yet. For now, he'd have to put up with it.

[calliecat93]

Top 5 Things I Disliked About RWBY Volume 7

Well everyone, Volume 8 will soon be upon us. IDK about anyone else, but I’ve never been so anxious about a volume in the near seven years I’ve been watching this show. Not even V3 had me this nervous, and I knew by nature of it being a Tournament Arc that it was gonna be painful. But as we near the new volume, I want to reflect on the previous one. So I am bringing back my Likes/Dislikes posts… except this time I DON’T have to do twelve posts for six volumes in a week. Only gotta do one Volume for today and tomorrow. Phew!

While V6 remains my favorite volume,V7 was a very well done one and by far the best written thus far. It was honestly super hard to pick five things I didn’t like, and are all pretty minor honestly. Heck I expect V8 to address some of these since V7 was clearly the build-up. But I did manage to make a Top 5 Dislikes List. As always, this is just my personal opinion and you are free to disagree with me. Take everything here with a grain of salt. Anyways, that’s enough exposition. Let the countdown begin~!

#5. Too Many Characters/Lack of Focus

RWBY has a lot of characters. A lot, loooot of them. You can tell it’s an anime for that reason alone, haha. Volume 8 thought might be the winner in the amount of it’s cast. We have our main cast, which consists of nine characters already (ten if you count Ozpin and eleven if you count Maria), which is already a lot to keep up with. But in this volume we have Ironwood, Penny, Winter, the Ace-Ops, Pietro, Robyn and her Happy Huntresses, the Schnee Family, Watts, Tyrian, and the list goes on. And those are just the relevant ones.

To the show’s credit, the volume mostly handles the focus well. They make sure that ones like Ironwood and Penny get a proper amount of focus considering their importance in this volume specifically. They also do a lot to showcase characters like Robyn, Clover, and Marrow so that we understand what they’re like and care about them, which makes how things end up even sadder. That being said, it did cause some of cast I think to get the short end of the stick a bit. Characters like Maria and Jaune pretty much got barely anything, and Blake and Yang would have also been out of luck if not for their talk with Robyn in Chapter 7. Some of the Ace-Ops, like Elm and Vine, and the Happy Huntresses who aren’t Robyn also didn’t get a lot of focus and the latter especially only got bare minimum glimpses into their personalities. Even with characters I was happy with like Ruby, Weiss, Ren, and Nora I feel could have had more done with their arcs here (the latter two especially but we’ll get tot hat later) had there been less characters and/or more time.

This is Number 5 because not only is it a minor issue, but it’s kind of inevitable. Shows only get so much time and the characters we focused on needed that time. Ironwood’s downfall wouldn’t have been nearly as powerful if it weren’t center stage. It’s one of those hard choices where you want to see more, but the show just had other things that took priority for the sake of both production and the story. Ultimately, it was the right decision and at most just makes me wish there was more.

#4. Emotionally Draining

Again, minor. I wasn’t even sure if I should add this because really I think it’s more of a personal thing than anything. But I failed to come up with another option, so... gotta take what I can get.

As good as this volume was, it was a VERY emotionally draining one. It was probably the only time I was kind of happy when it was over because ie meant a chance to breathe until V8. There’s the whole political plot that hit way too close for comfort, Tyrian’s murder spree and Penny’s framing, Ironwood’s downfall, everything from the halfway point of Chapter 11 to the end. Heck eve the first two chapters, and even bits of 3 and 4, were super tense and on edge. We had plenty of light-hearted and fun moments in the beginning. But by Chapter 6, that came to an end (or I didn’t find funny, like JNR’s antics in Chapter 8, sorry guys) and it was V3 again, but somehow even more on-edge.

Like I said, this isn’t really a dislike and is on here because I couldn’t think up anything else. As I said, the writing was very strong and on-point. I was nervous, but I’m pretty sure that’s because the writers wanted the audience nervous. They wanted us to feel the tension and fear. hey wanted us to be as conflicted about everything as the characters that we were watching. It was effective too. But it did leave me relieved that it was all over. I didn’t watch V7 in full again until recently when I got my Blu-Ray copy to put into perspective how drained I had been. I was fine upon rewatch, but yeah... way to rise up my stress levels CRWBY!

#3. The Ren/Nora Conflict

This is related to the Number 5 section. I think we can all agree that Ren and Nora tend to get the short end of the stick compared to Jaune and the rest of the main cast. V4 was an improvement, but 5 and 6 returned them to minor supporting roles and even V4 did more for Ren than Nora imo, who to this day is imo the least developed of the main cast. But clearly they wanted to start changing that, and given Jaune more or less got closure last volume it seemed like an ideal time to give the two development, especially where their relationship is concerned.

While Nora was overall fine, Ren... not so much? They do a god job setting up the two’s conflict, albeit the cliché ‘girl compliments boy, boy ignores her as they’re in the middle of something else’ joke in Chapter 3 was dumb. But Chapter 6 made it clear that there was far more going on. Nora is pushing to help Mantle and in the following chapter we have her snap at Ironwood for forcing so much sacrifice on it, but not on Atlas itself. Ren however is closed off (more tha usual), focus more or less solely on the task, is clealry afraid of their uncertain battle against Salem, and even seems to side with Ironwood in Chapter 7. It’s the first major conflict between the two with Nora just trying to get Ren to talk to her. She even finally kisses him... and we all know what happens after that.

The main issue here is two things. One, we NEVER get any clarity on why Ren is acting so cold to Nora, the one person he was always open around (well... for him anyways). I mean I have a good idea why and I’m 99% sure that V8 is going to go into it, but without any clarity it just comes off as him being unfair to Nora who is just concerned for him. The other issue is there is no closure to 9it. We have the final chapter where Ren tries to fight Neo, but as she’s disguised as Nora it goes badly. The poor boy is tearful, snaps at Nora when she tries to calm him down, and it ends in the boy looking like he’s about to have a nervous breakdown. It’s heart-wrenching, but still ultimately leaves the conflict unresolved. Plus we had a pretty large gap between the Renora Kiss (Chapter 6) and that moment (Chapter 13) with some brief moments sprinkled in. Otherwise, Ren acted as we’d expect even with the goofy plan in Chapter 8 where he seemed unusually chill considering. So it just kinda feels like for a while they... forgot about it.

This is right in the middle because as I said, I expect Volume 8 to go more into this. They’ve outright said that if there was something we were confused by or felt didn’t go anywhere, Volume 8 was going to address. This was set-up, and it leaves me anxious to see how things will go with these two especially going off the brief lines we heard in the trailer. But it still sucked that we got no closure and didn’t go further into why Ren is acting like he is. I know I was unsure of how to feel when it was all over. But I guess we’ll see the final result soon enough.

#2. The Truth Revelations

If you were reading my Volume 7 reviews, you know that I REALLY did not like how Chapters 9 and 10 were done. Why? Because of the truth reveals. Now I now know why t was handled like it was, which actually saved it from being out at Number 1 on the list. But does that change me opinion of it? Nope.

First, I want to talk about how it more or less began. That being Blake and Yang revealing the Amity Project to Robyn in Chapter 7. While I DO like them taking matters into their own hands instead of being complacent, I STILL have major issues on how they didn’t talk to Ruby and Weiss about it. I’ve heard the arguments about it, but imo when we have Yang having major hang ups with lies and half-truths (it’s why she was enraged at Oz), her and Blake seeming to pull the same thing... doesn’t look good. There is zero on-screen indication that they let the other sin about it later, which had they done so then the group could have planned proper steps in helping the two sides which may have caused Ironwood to not jump off the slippery slope as badly. Will V8 mention this? IDK, but it does bother me and I would like it addressed especially concerning the themes of trust.

Then we get to Chapters 9 and 10, where my issues go into effect. Robyn drops the hostility and reveals her knowledge of the project, but wants to try and work with Ironwood. The heroes reveal everything to Ironwood and while understandably shocked, he otherwise takes Salem being unkillable well. Then the two leaders reveal this to Mantle, using Robyn’s Semblance to prove it, and... that makes the citizens okay. Yeah... even knowing what happens later I still have issues with this. Because even with that knowledge, there was NO GOOD REASON fo AY of this to go well.

Robyn may know why Ironwood was depleting Mantle resources, but it doesn’t change that he caused a LOT of damage to Mantle due to it. Ironwood, despite his expected reaction coming later, still took the Salem news far too well especially considering how on-edge of her he’d been at that point. The citizens of Mantle know about Salem, but not why ironwood was depleting resources. Plus it doesn’t change that he was a borderline tyrant towards them and he didn’t try explaining that part to them. The fact that THAT calmed them down so easily, even with Robyn’s presence, just came off as... too easy.

Which it was. All of this was an elaborate psyche out. We think that things are finally going well... then Chapter 11 happens, and it goes downhill from there. Can’t lie, they got me. Chapter 11 was a HUGE gut-punch for that reason. As such, I decided to put this at Number Two. But it’s only because of the psyche out. It was still done to make the shock effective and while it worked, it doesn’t change that it felt like things got downplayed far more than they should have. Still, it saved this form taking the top slot. So what DID make it? Well...

#1. Willow Guilting Weiss

For a character that only got one major appearance, Willow left one Hell of an impact. All we knew about her prior was an off-handed remark by Whitley in V4 that implied that she was an unhappy drunk. Here? We see exactly what Jaques has done to this poor woman. She’s a drunk, unhappy, and her expression just screams exhaustion and broken. She knows that she did nothing for her children once she broke, something Weiss makes very clear, but she does make some amends by giving Weiss her Scroll and the evidence needed to expose Jaques and Watts, She’s even relieved when We3iss confirms that she’s never returning for good. It’s a very powerful scene that in minutes makes Willow one of the saddest, sympathetic characters in the show.

I do have one huge problem, however. That’s when she leaves. She has one request for Weiss, and that’s for her to not forget about Whitley. While it’s been becoming more and more clear that Whitley is a scared kid who has been just as abused by Jaques as his sisters, he WAS still a cocky jerk to Weiss. He was never nice to her, and when he was it was for his own benefit. He had zero issue rubbing into Weiss her misfortune in V4 after the concert and how he’s the new heir. Of course Weiss wouldn’t like him and be justified in believing that he didn’t like her. When she points that out, this is Willow’s line:

Of course not. You left him here... with us.

Yeah, this really pissed me off and I think is a problem on the writer’s end. They want to have Weiss realize, like the audience is, that Whitley is like he is because unlike her and Winter, he can’t escape, has none of the abilities that they do, and is thus still a prisoner and under his father’s control.. He succumbed to it instead of fight or get away because that was all that he could do, and hating his sisters kept him in his father’s favor. It’s all very understandable and yes, having Weiss realize this and make an effort to try and help Whitley would show how much she’s changed and allow the Schnee Family to all break free form Jaques once and for all.

But the way the line is worded make it feel like Willow, and in turn the narrative, is gui9lting Weiss into not realizing this and not helping Whitley prior. Umm... no. Hell no. Weiss was under zero obligation to help her brother, who at the time portrayed himself as an egotistical snake to her. He rubbed his success in her face. he rubbed getting the title in her face. He was even trying to do so again in the very same chapter Willow was introduced. Weiss HAD to help herself. And unlike her, who as far as we know never hated Winter and the two always treated each other well, as far as we can tell Whitley never had that relationship with them and we don’t know if he ever tried. Jaques made sure that Whitley and his sisters would be divided, and Weiss shouldn’t feel guilty at all for not seeing this.

I get why some may get after Weiss and what Willow was trying to hint to her. We know that Whitley is a victim. We know that because he had no one, he became the way he is. He still has hope, but Weiss is the only one in any position to get him the help that he needs. I expect V8 to go into this, especially since Weis sis why Jaques is now in prison and took away the only figure that Whitley had (a HORIRBLE one, but still the only). However Weiss did what she could in her position, and doesn’t have the advantage of NOT being in the audience to everything. Do I expect her to realize all of this and try to get Whitley to as well? Yes, and it’ll be her character coming full-circle as well. But did she deserve to be guilted? Hell No. Don’t think it was intentional, but it still rubbed me the wrong way and I still don’t like that bit. Thus, it is the moment I dislike most in RWBY Volume 7.

Okay, that’s it for now. Tomorrow, I’ll post my Top 5 Likes. Which trust me, I got plenty of ‘em~! See you all then~!

[beveragezine]

Who is Mod Tea?

Hello, all! It’s “Tea”.

When I assumed the role of admin for this project, I initially avoided sharing my identity due to the issues surrounding the departure of the previous admin. However, I think now is a good opportunity (since mod and intern apps have reopened) to learn a bit more about the one you may be working with.

I have decided to call myself Mod Tea for this particular project, but the usual online alias I go by is SomeCereals (or Cereal for short). My social media(s) are linked at the end of this post in case you would like confirmation regarding my activity and such.

The following is a list of zines I have assisted with or am currently assisting with moderating to some degree, with roles and responsibilities detailed. I have tried to put them in descending chronological order to the best of my abilities.

❁ Sylvain Jose Gautier Zine (pre-application phase) - I am one of a few Writing Mods for this zine, specifically assigned to oversee collaborative pieces. At the moment, I am advising the organizer on application forms and evaluation rubrics for writing applicants. Once the creation period begins, I assume I will carry out tasks similar to what I have experienced in Knockout: A One Punch Man Zine (one of my completed projects; read on for more information).

❁ Fire Emblem Three Houses Tarot Project (creation phase) - I’m one of many Writing Mods for this ambitious project. There is a small team of writers assigned under me and I check in with them on a weekly basis to ensure that we are on schedule and that their ficlets reflect the meanings in their assigned tarot cards.

❁ Rise of the Feasts: Granblue Fantasy Cookbook (preorder phase) - A passion project of mine, spurred on by my fellow crew members! I am the Head Mod for this zine. I handle the zine social media handles and update contributors via our Discord server. I also advise and consult with the other mods and make sure the contributors submitted their finished pieces on time.

❁ Sweethearts: Original Sweets and Pastries Gijinka Zine (shipping phase) - I was initially brought onto this project as a Social Media/Organization Mod, tasked with maintaining zine social media handles, responding to questions, and generally interacting with the public and organizing relevant documents. After the departure of the initial head moderator/finance mod as well as a second mod (for personal reasons unrelated to the zine itself), I redoubled my efforts to ensure this project was completed, taking on the duties of the Finance Mod on top of my social media and organizational ones. As the Finance Mod, I created spreadsheets detailing sales, revenue, and production costs for the project, as well as calculated the amounts to be distributed to contributors based on a preestablished compensation plan.

❁ Knockout: One Punch Man Zine (completed) - I was a Social Media Mod and a Writing Mod for this zine. I helped with creating and proofreading social media posts. Additionally, I was tasked with overseeing a team of collaborating artists and authors as a Writing Mod. I betaread and gave feedback to writers regarding their zine pieces and facilitated communication between the writers and their partnered artists. In this way, the art and written work paired well together and told a coherent story.

❁ Cellular Activity: Cells at Work Zine (completed) - This one was a unique role due to the subject matter of this zine! I was the Science Consultant. Cellular Activity featured a few OCs (original cells) not yet featured in official materials at the time. As such, I advised and gave feedback to the artists designing OCs such that the design of the cell reflected their real world counterpart in both form and function. I also gave feedback on other pieces to assist in making their artwork more biologically accurate.

❁ Objectopia: Original Object Head Zine (completed) - Again, I was the Social Media Mod. The head mod had developed a mascot (Lolly Cottonpop) for the zine, so the social media posts I made for this project were written in the voice/character of said mascot while also conveying relevant information in a way that is easily understood. The art pieces that often accompanied my social media posts were of the head mod’s creation, not mine. I also advised the head mod during the project, as this was their first time organizing a zine.

❁ Premium Gala: Granblue Fantasy Fashion Zine (production~shipping phase) - I came onto this project as the Finance Mod. As such, I made spreadsheets to keep track of production costs and revenue, as well as contacted and ordered merchandise and zines from the majority of our selected manufacturers. Unfortunately, we hit several snags during the production phase but have since resolved most of them. During this problematic period, I continued to update and respond to the inquiries of our contributors, as well as convey my concerns to the other mods. At the moment, we are waiting for an artist to expand on art provided for a merch item upon the request of the manufacturer. Once this is done, our shipping mod will be able to fulfill all orders.

I have also written for a handful of zines, including, but not limited to:

❁ Al Dente: Food Fantasy Cookbook - Ducks in a Row and The King & I

❁ Le Petit Amuse: Food Fantasy Zine - Bittersweet

❁ LOVE: Undertale Zine - Home is where the Hearth is

❁ LOVE SONG: Valentine’s Day Vocaloid Zine - Hold me in Contempt

❁ Crosswinds: A Granblue Fantasy Tarot Project - A Glass All Full

Additionally, I have served as a convention staff member in the revenue and public relations sector for four years and for one year in the operations sector for a second convention. I cannot say which conventions (for legal reasons), but rest assured that I have been involved in many successful projects and put forth my best effort to assure that issues that arise are quickly addressed and resolved professionally.

I will continue to call myself Mod Tea for the remainder of this project, as I feel it goes with the zine theme nicely, but I do hope knowing this information eases questions regarding my identity, experience, and qualifications.

Yours Brew-ly,

Barista Tea (with a sprinkle of Cereal)

Note: Image in this post is sourced from mindful.org.

SomeCereal’s socials:

Twitter (where I am most active, other than on Discord)

AO3 (semi-active on here; I keep the majority of my written pieces in a folder on my personal Google Drive account for zine applications)

Tumblr (not active on here; I spend most of my time on Tumblr operating zine accounts instead of my personal one)

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations - How to Crack the Code

Now that Season Three of A Series of Unfortunate Events has aired, I feel it’s about time to finally tell y’all the Code from The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations- for those of you who can’t get the book, haven’t read it yet, can’t figure out the code, or who just don’t wanna spend time finding it out yourselves. 

On page 188 of The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations, the key to cracking a code sprinkled throughout the book is provided: 

WARNING → THERE IS A SECRET MESSAGE IN THIS BOOK

You may have noticed a cross-referencing technique that appears throughout these pages, looking as such: (See: Notorious Researchers, pg. 30). This device is a helpful way to direct readers to relevant information that can be found elsewhere in a text. 

It is also a handy way to send a secret message. 

Every librarian knows that books contain secrets, and hiding a secret message in the pages of a book is a frequent VFD tactic. Volunteers who cleverly cross-reference will discover the message, while their enemies, who rarely finish a book, remain unaware. 

If you have read this far, you may be wondering how to discover this message yourself. First read the book carefully, making note of any parentheticals shaded an unusual hue. This is no printer error; it is a key informing you that part of the message can be found on the suggested page. Follow the references and locate the letters colored a corresponding hue. These letters are scrambled, not unlike an anagram. Once you have unscrambled the word, write it on the color-coded line of this telegram. Completing the telegram will reveal the answer to a question that has stumped philosophers, police inspectors, and even Lemony Snicket: 

What comes after the end of The End? 

Next to this description is a photo of a telegram, which is fourteen words long: 

___ ____ __ _______ 

____ ___ __ _____ 

____ ____ _____

__ _____ _____

And, indeed, each word is underlined in a different color. 

Now... onto cracking the code.

As referenced, there are occasional cross-references in the text. And sometimes, the See: is in the color you need to look for. 

If you follow each See to its corresponding page, you’ll find letters scattered across the text that are in the color you need to find. These letters make up each word. 

Word-by-word, let’s see what we can find: 

The first word, in dark purple, is on page 133: The Reptile Room. To be honest, this is the hardest word to find: the dark color is very close to the color of the actual text. There are three letters here, in the following sentences: 

You always want to do something new, but at the same time, I wanted to see if there were clues I could integrate into the design. 

This flips it so the priority is the reptiles, and his own living space is sort of diminutive. 

And in “The Reptile Room,” [Monty]’s delighted to share his world with these kids. 

otw

The second word is on page 99: Toupees for Toddles, in an orange-ish color. There are four letters, which can be found in the following sentences: 

“Well, we can’t put a wig on a baby.” 

It’s one of the oddest things I’ve ever done in my career, applying a little wig on a baby. 

When we started the second season, Presley had grown her hair long enough that we could actually create the ponytail with here own hair, which was a relief. 

ests 

The third word, in a hot pink, is on page 130: Mr Poe’s Office. There are only two letters, which can be found in the following sentences: 

It can be goofy, but it’s never goofy-stupid. 

He’s the guy that’s literally standing between Olaf and the Baudelaire fortune. 

of

The fourth word, on page 110: How to Dress for a Masked Ball, in a gray-blue color, can be found in the following sentences, with seven letters: 

The flashback that opens “The Carnivorous Carnival” is set at a Venetian-style masked ball, where masks conceal a number of familiar faces. Cynthia Summers designed each mask with the character in mind, including Dr Orwell’s “eyeglasses,” a Medusa-inspired snake mask for Uncle Monty, and theatrical comedy/tragedy masks for the Snicket Brothers. (Jacques wears the comedy mask, while Lemony, of course, is tragedy.) The ball also marks the first on-screen appearance of the mysterious Beatrice, described in the script as “a beautiful woman dressed as a dragonfly.” 

eidnrsf

The fifth word, four letters long, is on page 45: Olivia Caliban/Madame Lulu, is in gray: 

A dangling thread from Season One was a certain book on secret organizations discovered by Justice Strauss - a book whose title will be familiar to anyone reading this. 

Still, they liked the idea of a character finding The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations and having the book change your life, as it will no doubt change yours. 

While the book’s version of Olivia is a veteran agent of dubious morality, the show reinvents her as a noble school librarian struggling against institutional corruption. 

There, disguised as Madame Lulu, she fulfills her mission of passing the book to the Baudelaires - and sacrifices herself at the lion pit to save their lives. 

jtsu 

The sixth word, colored light orange, is on page 109: How to Dress for a Career in Food Service. The three letters can be found here: 

Author Daniel Handler explains that the VFD agents we meed in the show are the types of people whom children notice by adults overlook. 

You’re going to notice things that are invisible to the adults talking over your head. 

Take a good look at the restaurant’s terrifying logo. 

uto

On page 141: The Miserable Mill is the seventh word, in two red letters: 

“The Wide Window” left us with no more stage space, so it forced us to shoot the mill at a real location, an old dock building which we then tried to make look like a stage. 

Klaus comes back from the eye doctor, but he isn’t quite himself. 

fo

The eighth word is on page 97: The Real Sugar Bowl. There are five light purple letters: 

According to Esme, it was stolen from her by Beatrice, and according to Olivia, it may have been the reason for the VFD schism. It’s not the first sugar bowl to play a vital role in a work of classic literature (interested parties may seek out We Have Always Lived in The Castle at their local library), but Daniel Handler muses on another possible inspiration: “There a whole sugar scene in the movie Midnight (See: Snicket, Jacques, pg 44) that must have seeped into me when I was a child. Somehow I think that was one of the sugar bowls of literature that ended up sneaking in.” 

The existence of four identical sugar bowl [props] may be of interest to Esme Squalor, or at least her actress, Lucy Punch, who requested to keep one when the series wrapped. “My character was so desperate for it,” says Punch. “It seemed appropriate.” 

eahrc

The ninth word, in blue, is on page 172: The Carnivorous Carnival. There are four letters: 

There’s literally no program you can watch that’s any wierce. 

The aesthetic of carnivals and circuses is naturally creepy and absurd to begin with. And then you add the overlay of our material, where everything is filtered  through the Baudelaires, so the sets are designed to be seen as if you’re a vulnerable child glimpsing this horrible world and trying to maintain hope. 

Count Olaf arrives at Caligari Carnival, where he hopes the fortune-teller can help him. 

wlli

The tenth word is on page 89: The Many Faces of Barry Sonnenfeld. There are four green letters: 

and in “The Vile Village,” he’s the fire chief posing with his Dalmatian int he firehouse-turned-saloon. 

A common ancestor to our series’ interconnected families? 

Barry birthday is April Fool’s Day, and for his birthday, I decided to knock off a painting with him in it. 

We’re shooting the Hotel Denouement right now, and the whole hotel isi based on the Dewey Decimal System, and each floor is a different subject. 

eetm

On page 64-65: The Sinister Songs, you can find five magenta letters for the eleventh word: 

“I was a huge fan of the books in my twenties, and I  was also a huge fan of Barry Sonnenfeld, so to see those two come together and actually be a part of it was unreal.” 

Count Olaf introduces himself to the Baudelaires with this song and dance - ignoring the fact he’s already met them. Handlers says, “Singing is perfect for Count Olaf because he imagines himself so wonderful.” 

All of the dance numbers were choreographed by Paul Becker, who pulled double duty in the first half of “The Carnivorous Carnival”.

She’s had quite an exciting / Time on the road

agina

On page 24: Violet the Inventor, there are two gray letters for the twelfth word: 

But now those inventions, like the Baudelaire mansion itself, are gone. 

She promised her parents she would always look after them, and while Count Olaf’s schemes have put that promise to the test, Violet’s managed to stand strong in even the most unfortunate situation. 

on

Pages 116-117: Deciphering Code: Using the Dials of the Spyglass, has five purple letters for the thirteenth word: 

As a volunteer, you already know why and when the spyglass was created (See: Motion Picture, Pg 10) but we will briefly recap its history here.

A permanent mark has its advantages, since even the most absent-minded member rarely leave the house without their ankle (See: Peg Leg, pg 86), but it has its drawbacks too, particularly if the organization undergoes a schism, so that the same symbol that once stood for comradery and literacy suddenly represents treachery and pyromania now that it is inscribed on the ankles of your enemies. 

But just as a movie might be more than a movie, a spyglass can be more than a spyglass. 

Critics called these films terrible, which was the point: Sebald wanted to ensure that no one would want to see them besides other volunteers, who would be more interested in their secret messages than their artistic value. 

The cinema’s projectionist assigns the film a production code made up of a unique combination of numbers and symbols. 

riynb

The fourteenth and final word can be found on page 32: Who is Lemony Snicket? There are five pale green letters: 

He is currently investigating the lives of the Baudelaire orphans,  though his reason for doing so is unknown, as are his whereabouts. 

Mr. Snicket can be identified by his dry wit, his tailored suits, and his ankle tattoo, as well as his tendency to launch into wordy monologues containing Very Frequent Definitions. 

But when developing the series for Netflix, Barry Sonnenfeld and Daniel Handler independently felt that their Snicket should be seen as well as heard. 

And they both independently thought of Patrick Warburton, a frequent Sonnenfeld collaborator whom Handler had loved in a little-seen film called The Woman Chaser. Volunteers who track it down will note that it features Warburton speaking to the camera in a suit and a deadpan style that one might call Serlinig-esque - or Snicket-esque. 

haebc

The Code

So now we have all the words:  

otw ests of eidnrsf 

jtsu uto fo eahrc 

wlli eemt agina 

on riynb haebc  

Which do not take a long time to unscramble... 

What comes after the end of The End? 

Well, it turns out... the code is a couplet... 

Two sets of friends, just out of reach 

Will meet again on Briny Beach.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

What the Rain Can’t Wash Away- Chapter 2

*FINAL PIECE IN THE LOOK IN HER EYES TRILOGY*

Sixteen years after Lucifer rose, and Dean lost his wife he finds himself with a teenager, a Nephilim, an angel, and his brother living out a Full House rerun with some seriously dark undertones. How will he be able to raise his daughter, fight monsters, and deal with the loss of the love of his life? Sometimes moving on is the hardest part, but with the Winchester’s there’s always something harder around the corner. Isn’t there?

Chapter Two, I See it in Your Eyes

Ella

My converse slapped the wet concrete as I ran. I can make it. I pushed forward, harder. I ran with everything that I had. I didn't know what was wrong, but I knew wherever I was going I had to get there. The rain was cold on my face. Just a little bit more. My heart pounded and with every beat I felt further and further away. My shoe caught a hole in the ground sending me flying forward. I caught myself on my hands, but not before scraping the skin on my palms. My forehead smacked the ground and I groaned, trying to shuffle back up to my feet. Trying but I couldn't... I just couldn't.

I sat up straight in bed my heart pounding. It felt so real. I could still feel the water on my face, the burning on my palms. Claire was sleeping peacefully at my side, curled up, hugging her pillow.

I slowly threw my legs over the side of the bed, my feet on the cold floor of my bedroom. I crept out, shutting the door behind me. I pulled out my phone and dialed Rowena. "Auntie Ro," I murmured.

"It's the Wee Winchester. It's late, what can I help you with sweetie?"

"I need your help," I whispered into my phone, trying to hold back my emotion, my fear.

"What's wrong, Wee One?"

"I... can you come here? I can't really talk about it on the phone."

"I'll be there tomorrow."

"Meet me after school?"

"I'll be there," Rowena said. "Don't worry, Wee One... whatever you're afraid of, we will figure it out."

"I know... and Auntie Ro... please don't tell Dad."

"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."

——————————————

I met her at the local coffee shop. I needed somewhere that she couldn't flip out, if it were necessary. I had no idea what was going on with me, but whatever it was, it was getting worse. It was growing.

"What seems to be going on Eleanor?" Rowena asked, leaning forward. She gripped her cup full of hot tea.

"I've been having... dreams. Visions, I think." I bit my lip.

"And you don't want your Dads to know?"

"I don't want to be just another thing that they hunt."

"Oh, darlin you must know that they wouldn't ever hurt you,” she said reaching for my hand. She squeezed my fingers supportively.

"I hope." I shook my head. "I don't know though. What if whatever inside me is dark... what if it's evil?"

She tilted her head to the side knowingly. "How long has this been happening?"

"Since before we lost Jack," I admitted. "I thought they were just dreams at first... it wasn't until I saw Jackie die..." I swallowed hard, over examining her red polished nails.

"You saw him die?"

"It was so vivid. Then it happened just like I saw it."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"It was too late to save him," I said desperately. "I should've said something after my dream. I should've... but I didn't. I was too scared. Scared of what I saw. Scared of what I was becoming."

"You didn't know, Wee One. How could you have?"

"Then the other night... I think I saw my mom die. Dad... he was dreaming and I think I was seeing his memory. I don't know." I put my face in my hands. This is too much.

"Is there anything else?"

"Last night I had a dream that I was running. I was trying to get somewhere but I fell..."

"Going where?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it felt so real. It was terrifying. What's happening to me?"

Rowena reached forward and wiped a tear from my cheek. "Don't worry. We will get to the bottom of this."

"Do you think it's a spell? A curse?"

"I'm not sure,” she admitted. "It could be something that's always been in you. Most psychics are born, not made, but..."

"But what?"

"They can be made."

"How?"

"Sweetie, I really think you should talk to your dads."

"Why? I told you... they won't understand... I want to make sure I know what's happening before I bring it to them."

"Did you know that the Giant used to have abilities just like this?"

"Sam?"

"When he was twenty three he had quite the abilities... or so I've heard," Rowena said, running her fingers along the lip of her mug.

I looked down at my glass of water intensely. I could see my distorted reflection within the glass. "They never told me that."

"It's been a long time for them. The boys don't like to dwell."

"Guess not." I said, squeezing my glass in my hands. How could they hide something that's so relevant to my current situation. But then again, what did they not lie about? That'd probably be a shorter list.

Dean

The Night Lucifer Rose

"Dean, Dean listen we've gotta go!"

Ava laid in my arms, limp. She was gone, but I couldn't move her from my arms. How could I let her go?

"This place is gonna blow!" Sam shouted.

I finally turned to him, he held Eleanor in his arms, against his chest. He was right. The room was shaking, white light was pouring in the windows. Lucifer was rising, and we would be screwed if we waited around for him.

I stood up, slowly, holding Ava bridal style against me. Her head hung over my arm. Her blood was still warm against my forearm. My chest squeezed. She was really gone.

"Come on," Sam said, pushing me out the door. He kept one hand on my daughter and one on my arm, leading us out of the church and into the fucking storm.

We fastened Nel into her car seat, and I held Ava against me in the backseat. "You drive," I told him, tossing him my keys.

"Dean..."

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Sammy," I murmured, pushing her curls out of her face. I ran my fingers over her eyelids shutting them, seeing her eyes for the last time. There was no more life in them. I watched them fade away right in front of me.

If there was ever a time to say goodbye, now was it. It was over. I ran my thumb across her chilled bottom lip. She could have been sleeping this time. I took her hand in mine, running my fingers over her wedding ring. Mom's wedding ring. I knew I should keep it, but it felt so fucking wrong taking it off of her finger.

Nel whimpered in her car seat. "Hey," I said, resting my palm on her baby belly. "I know," I whispered, my heart aching.

Lacey fed her demon blood. Ava was dead in my arms. Sammy started the apocalypse. I didn't even know how I was going to keep going, let alone where to start with this fucking mess I was left. I twisted my fingers in her curls. "I'm so sorry, Ave," I whispered. I was fucking broken.

Rain pounded on the roof of the Impala, a large blast of light erupted behind us.

"Shit, do you think that's...?"

"Satan." I said sharply. "Yeah. Yeah I do."

————————————————

Eleanor was asleep in her carrier at my feet. Ava's body was wrapped in fabric. She was faceless, but it didn't matter. She wasn't in there anymore. Her wedding ring felt heavy in my pocket.

Sam and I sprinkled salt over her. Maybe what's dead should stay dead. It was a lesson that was impossible for me to learn, no matter how much I tried.

"Should we say something?" Sam asked, gently.

There was a thousand things I wanted to say to her, but she wouldn't ever get to hear it. I pulled out a piece of paper, a goodbye letter. I walked it to her and rested it on her chest, where her hands were crossed. "Bye, Ave." I pulled out my zippo lighter and I flipped it, igniting the flame. A hunters funeral. It's what she would've wanted. No, I thought. She would want to be alive.

Her body lit up fast. My face was hot from the flames licking up toward the sky. I turned and caught a tear as it rolled down Sammy's cheek. He loved her, too. Maybe we both lost a piece of ourselves that night. A part we probably wouldn't ever be able to get back.

"Let's go," I said, picking up Nel's carrier. I turned away from her, biting back my urge to just fucking lose it. I didn't have time to mourn. I had a daughter who needed me, and I had a fucking world to save.

Dear Ava,

I guess I know how it feels now. How you felt when you had to watch me be ripped apart in front of you. I think we just keep taking turns. We are running in circles, Ave.

Being with you was indescribable. It was more than I could ever want. It was more than I'd ever let myself want, but I did. I wanted you. I wanted this life. I used to watch you sleep, ya know? In the motel, before we ever were in love. I'd wake up early when I was on those goddamn pull out couches, and I'd see you there, curled up, and hugging your pillow like you did with your curls spilling out all over your pillow. You're the most beautiful woman I'd ever met. I knew then that I could watch you sleep forever. I wanted to.

Now, I ask myself every day if you'd have been safe if I hadn't walked into that bar. If I hadn't let myself want you.

But then again, if I hadn't then we wouldn't have Eleanor. She's sleeping next to me when I write this. She's just so effortless. I want to give her everything I never had, stability and a home. But there's something I can never give her, Ave, and that's you. How can I raise her without you? How will I know what to do? How can I deal with this demon blood situation with her? How can I be my best self without you?

I was never able to say it, before you, not to my Dad or Sammy, not to any other woman I'd met. But you, Ava Winchester... I love you. I love you more than I love pie or beer. More than I want to fight monsters. I love you more than my fucking car. I love you, and I wish I'd said it a thousand times over. I wish I didn't lose so much time with you being an idiot. I wish I'd met you when we were kids, back when things were simpler, back before I was who I am now, before I was broken.

I guess there's no sense in dwelling. You won't get to read this anyway, so I don't know why I'm shouting into the void. There's no changing any of this. It's over. You're dead, and if it weren't for Eleanor, I'd be dead right next to you. I hope you know that, Sweetheart. There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you. I'll do what I can. I'll try my best to do right by you with the husk of myself that I'm walking around in.

I love you, Ave, and I will love you until the last breath in my body. I'll see you on the other side if they let me in.

-Dean

Sam

Present

"Sam? Can we talk?" Eleanor asked, poking her head into my bedroom.

I was leaning over my desk, pouring into lore, trying to find a way out for Dean with no avail. He was getting anxious, and was insisting pretty intensely that it was almost time to drop him in the ocean.

"Sure, Kid," I said, stretching. "I could use a break anyway."

"I just... I had a question."

"Hit me."

She walked into the room and sat on the edge of my bed, pulling her feet under her. "It's kind of... you can't tell Dad. I know what that sounds like, and you're all so close but... but I just need you right now."

I watched her eyes, her nervous expression. She was the perfect combination of Dean and Ava. She had learned mannerisms from Dean, but there were some things about her that was all Ava. It was effortless. "You can tell me anything, El. You know that."

"I may have heard about your... whole psychic thing."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? From who?"

"I don't want to rat anyone out."

"Sure."

I sighed. It wasn't exactly something I wanted to rehash, but Dean's words echoed in my head. "It's like we had the same dream last night. Like she was tapped into my head."

It had already started. "What's going on, El?"

"I just... I've been having dreams, too. They seem so real. I just don't understand it. I don't want to be a freak, Uncle Sam."

"You're not a freak, kid," I sighed. "Listen to me. I had visions. I could see things before they happened, and everyone thought I had a dark side."

"Like what people think about Jack?"

"Exactly. We make our own destiny, El. We choose if we are going to be good. I'm not saying we have the same thing, but if you are having visions you aren't a freak and you aren't bad. Okay? You're just.. goin through something."

"I want to believe you, Sam. Were you ever able to do anything else other than just see things before they happened?"

I stared at my niece. She was always so old for her age, but I still remembered the day she was born. The day she laid in her mothers arms, and I wrapped mine around both of them tightly. I would've protected them from anything, but I fucked that up. I could at least tell her the truth now. "No. Just the visions." I'm full of shit.

Eleanor sighed, looking down at her lap. "Crap."

"What's wrong?"

"I was hoping... well, Micheal is in Dad's head, right?" She asked desperately. "If I'm tapping into his dreams what if I could get in there... and..."

"And what?" I asked, leaning into her, gripping the edge of the chair. "What could you do to an Arc Angel?"

"I don't know, Sam. I really don't. I'm just so helpless here, and then this start's up..."

I sighed, standing. I lowered myself next to my niece and pulled her into my arms like I did when she was little. "You're just like your mom, you know that?"

"How do you mean?"

"She was always trying to help. No matter what it took."

"Sounds like Dad."

I smiled a bit, kissing the top of her head. "They were pretty similar."

"Think that's why they were soul mates? Dad always says they were."

I closed my eyes. I didn't think about her much, not anymore, but sometimes when I'm asleep I can still feel her rested against my side. I can still see her cuddled next to me on the couch watching How I Met Your Mother. I can still feel her in my arms on the beach that first day. That first case that changed everything. "Yeah. I think that's why."

She turned and looked up at me. "Did you ever find out why you were having visions, Sam?"

"Me? Oh.. I don't know, kid. I guess I just grew out of them, because I don't have them anymore."

She frowned. "That isn't what I asked."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "It was something that happened when I was a baby."

"You're being pretty shady, Sam. What's going on with me? You know more than what you're saying. I can tell."

"You should..."

"Talk to Dad. Yeah, I know, but I'm not talking to him. Am I? I'm talking to you." Her turquoise eyes almost seemed to glow as she stared into my soul. She was getting upset, flexing her hands at her side.

I can't tell her about the demon blood. Dean will never forgive me.

"What about demon blood, Uncle Sam?" She asked, crossing her arms.

—————

Chapter Three, The Hero Always Gets a Beer

Get caught up!

Tag list:

@deans-baby-momma

@xjamiedennettx

@linki-locks11

@sonnierae26

[procellasdracon]

 So a almost two months ago, an anon asked me this particular question:

And I answered it but I was not satisfied with what I wrote. So, here’s round two.

  I didn’t get across the points that I wanted to, and quite frankly, it was written poorly. So I hope to actually answer the question this time in a more clear and concise manner. As before, this is just how I interpret this question and of course my own viewpoint on why some may feel that certain Jerza fanfictions feel awkward in terms of personality. We may share similar views, some others may disagree, and that’s that.

Personality-wise, I think that it’s straightforward why they seem OOC - they behave like two different people when they are around each other. The times that they are around each other, it’s just for romantic fluff, especially after the Nirvana arc up until the end of the GMG arc and then sprinkled again in the last arc. We get so much time of Erza behaving ‘like Erza’ - loud, brash, silly in a serious way, but when she switches to thinking of Jellal, Erza becomes someone else. Most people don’t know how to write for that so they take characters and scenarios that they know and superimpose them onto Jerza interactions - making them fit into the ‘slot’. A few people may be able to pull this off but most casual writers don’t know how to do it.

When not around Erza, Jellal can be a dynamic character. He has charisma and he uses it. His magic (that I have my fair share of problems with), is extremely powerful as well. He is decisive and driven for his end goal. Very broad statements to be sure. The only time his quirks show up is when he’s with Erza and that may be seen as being cute in that he only gets his guard broken when he’s around her or when it concerns her. But really, his only quirk is that whenever Erza shows up, he turns into some little bashful kid. Okay… and?

As I said previously in my first post, taking the both of them out of the context of the Fairy Tail narrative and a potential relationship between them is all but assured. Everything lines up between them on paper - they are a textbook couple - it would be ludicrous NOT to think of them as a potential couple. He’s taller than her, older (by more than just 1-2 years), handsome and roguish, a dark and troubled past but he’s still earnest and innocent and is trying to fight the sins of his past. Textbook, am I right? Of course, throw them back into the Fairy Tail story and you get one of those sins being that he mentally abused the woman that he loves so earnestly. Because of this, he deems himself as being unworthy to love her, despite her wishes to try and foster a relationship between them, and it seems that everything is working against them being together. Romantic, isn’t it?

The thing is, a good romance story doesn’t necessarily mean that it will end up a good relationship, and Jerza is one such relationship. Too much of their ‘romantic fluff’ has been pushed onto them - ultimately at the will of Mashima. Too bad that Mashima dropped the ball on them. They have not been shown to really interact with each other outside of a scene not framed to be ‘romantic’ in some fashion. The crux of their entire relationship is building off of the lingering feelings that they have for each other. A few romantically charged moments with each other should not be enough to proclaim a long lasting relationship from. How they are written in canon is forced to hell and back - just ask Ultear, Kagura, and Milianna. There was a lot of issues not only between them, but between people that they both knew and had a prominent place in Erza’s life that was just ‘dropped’ in favor of pushing them together for angsty romance and angst is a dangerous seasoning for a storyteller. Angst may cover up some problems but it doesn’t fix them - similar to how putting hot sauce into food can cover up how it initially tastes but it doesn’t fix the actual seasoning/taste  problem.

Another thing is that Jellal went through several character overhauls during the course of the story, and that has hurt him as a character. At first, Jellal was the dangerously handsome bad-boy that had a possessive streak with Erza about a ‘dirty little secret’. And then thanks to some story amnesia, he gets ‘reset’ to a brooding dark prince character who is both edgy and handsome but still good. Erza has to become his ‘shining knight’ ready to defend him against any and all comers who would dare try to take Jellal away from her, because ‘romance’ that is hard fought is obviously worth it.  And then at the end, he tries to become the shining prince for her, rushing to save her from across time and space the battlefield. Its like every time you see him, he has become someone else… The truth is - we don’t know enough about Jellal - no history aside for Erza, no real motivation other than to make up for all the bad things he did to Erza, and no real purpose in his life other than Erza. He’s an accessory to her - he’s not a character. He’s amounts to no more than a piece of jewelry to be added only for ‘certain situations’. There is very little substance to him and what substance he had was torn away from him with that little personality reset. So what is there to build his personality off of - not a whole lot. This is why his character varies a lot between writers - he’s a blank slate that they can fill with anything they want. We all know how Natsu is suppose to be, we all know how Gray is suppose to be. The lack of a consistent character standard in Jellal makes it easier for people to just write out whatever for him - but as long as its romantic in some fashion, then it is validated just because.

Jellal’s redemption would make for a decent side story if it was handled better. Unfortunately, his angst was given to drive his romance, not to drive his redemption. Some may say that his romance with Erza is a part of his redemption but they interact so very little during the course of the story that it does not lend enough credibility to it. That and his actions outside of her just didn’t add up for me. He still could have tried to reach out to Wally, Sho, Milliana and the others to try and apologize for what he had done - that alone would have been far better than him destroying cults of Zeref. That and a romance-driven redemption story isn’t something that would feel right in Fairy Tail. It was a story that touted friendship and familial bonds - Jellal broke those with several people, not just Erza. So where is their context in the story? The lack of time focused on his actual redemption really hurt him as a character, especially since the time he got were given to panels to just develop those angsty romance feels that made people go ‘d’aaaww, it’s so tragic~’ Until he forgives himself, every time he looks at Erza, all he will probably see is what he did to her (and some of the others from the Tower - maybe). If he doesn’t forgive himself or if he doesn’t earn the forgiveness from those he actually wronged, then he’s going to go into self-loathing and probably try to kill himself. The entire world is forgiving him but what is he actually doing to ‘earn’ it? Some will say that you ‘earn forgiveness’ and they are right - you don’t ‘earn’ it - but that doesn’t mean that the trust that was once there is just as easily rebuilt. Make his redemption about trying to rebuild those bonds with the Tower of Heaven people - THAT would have made for relevant story. Learning how to extend that which he just learned with the Tower of Heaven people and extending it to the OS - also a good direction to go in instead of the ‘I beat you, now I own you’ angle. Erza looking at all of his earnest efforts to try and make amends for what he did and falling for him all over again - THAT I can accept. Those types of actions are what would validate her having feelings for him and not having to rely on how she felt about him years and years ago.

The harder one has to struggle to get what they want, the more satisfying the payoff - I get that aspect. Most of us will root for the underdog just because we want to see someone beat the overwhelming odds. I can’t deny Jerza’s ‘potential’ - it’s everywhere - but it’s no less valid to me than Erza discovering that she has developed romantic feelings for Natsu as the story went on and there was plenty of opportunity and potential for that as well.

[misakishishido]

Project #3 - Android/Clone (Teaser)

Hello hello :D

I hope everyone has seen my Project #1 post prior to this but if not, please do so here, as I won’t go through most, if not all, of what I’ve said over there haha. Sorry for being lazy. 

Anyways. This is the third ‘project’ from my long lost document of drafts I had prepared in the past for WMatsui that I have decided to revive especially when I think it’s well... sort of a waste to never publish it. I spent quite a lot of time on this back then and what you will be seeing is pretty much a part of the actual first chapter of the story. 

Moreover, I decided to revive this project in conjunction with the release of the Playstation 4 game Detroit:Become Human. Seems like a good time to put this out there especially if you readers out there have actually played the game and loved the whole android plot though I highly doubt mine will be that much related to existential crisis nor the state of the world in the near future and whether having androids is a good or bad idea.

Then again mine’s more on cloning so... I dunno why I just HAD to mention the game. Oh well~

This is basically, tl;dr, a love story for mainly JuriSaku *laughs*, so no deep stuff. I hope. Maybe sprinkles of it, who knows? :v Also note how I say mainly ‘cuz there may be other ships in this thing with Sayanee relevant in it hehehe.

Okay, I think I’ve said my piece. Again, it’d be great if you all can let me know which project you’d like to read as a priority so I can be a lot more focused on one than splitting my attention to all three and screwing things up in the process >< 

Hope you enjoy this little teaser! 

“I’m back.”

“Welcome back, Jurina dear.”

Matsui Jurina, an adolescent who had just started her first year of high school who sported striking red frame glasses that protected her cool black, but slightly lifeless, orbs, shrugged off her backpack which made a soft thump onto the floor as she swiftly took off her shoes and handed her mother a folder.

“Got my results. Straight As as promised.”

Her mother flipped open the folder and read through Jurina’s results, smiling at what her daughter had produced and gave her a loving pat on the head.

“Well done, Jurina dear. I’m sure your father would be proud of—“

“Don’t bother telling him. As if he cares about me anyways,” Jurina quickly grabbed her bag that was still lying near the entrance and walked past her mother when suddenly her mother grabbed her by the hand, stopping her daughter in her tracks.

“Jurina… about your father. He has something urgent to tell you at the lab. Please go see him.”

Jurina, as bright as she is, noticed her mother’s eyes turning slightly reddish as if she was holding back her tears. She knew straight away it was not going to be good news. She sighed and just gave a quick nod to her mother before heading towards her father’s lab which was in the basement of her bungalow.

She used to be close with her father until one day he got too immersed with his research that he began neglecting both his wife and daughter and had always stayed cooped up within his laboratory with a few of his assistants that would come every day but leave every evening. It all started when his thesis for cloning was recognised by the government and not only he got a status in society because of that, but he also got more and more projects relating to cloning research by the government which made his life rather hectic, hence causing a rift between his wife and daughter.

Jurina’s mother was more understanding but Jurina, being the only child of the family, wanted to feel even more loved deep down, and acknowledged by her father. After all, when she was asked to write about what she wanted to be when she grows up when she was still a kid, she had made being a scientist her first choice due to how cool she thought her father was and then a teacher as her second choice since she liked teaching people things that they were having difficulty with. She used good academic records as an attempt to impress her father but to no avail. He used to praise her back in what, kindergarten? And it all ended after that.

At the lab, she could see all of her father’s assistants busy with their work. Some were running around from machine to machine, some were busy at their own ‘station’ tapping away on the keyboards before them and some were busy asking one another questions, obviously relating to the experiment at hand.

It was just another normal day for Matsui Jurina’s father, Matsui Junichiro, a man who has the status of a world renowned scientist. Jurina, despite her strained feelings towards her father, would always be in awe whenever she stepped into his lab. It wasn’t every house that had a huge laboratory with huge machines or capsules that could fit people in their basement. Sure, she was thankful she was living in such a special home provided by the government but… she still wanted that one single element that her father had not given her expressly in a long time.

Jurina felt a pair of eyes which noticed her presence in the busy room and quickly nudged the head of the experiment that was in front of him. Jurina’s father turned around abruptly and gave Jurina a stern look, a look that would always make Jurina clench her fists involuntarily. Don’t give me that look… stupid dad…

“Jurina. You’re here.”

“What do you want?” Jurina shot back, returning the look that her father is giving her but the latter did not pay his daughter’s current attitude to mind and just closed his eyes calmly.

“You will be leaving this house for the course of six years and will be studying in UK.”

The adolescent could not believe what she just heard, “W-What did you just—“

“Your aunt has already been notified and you will be staying with her,” Jurina’s father turned his back on his daughter after finishing his piece.

“O-Oi! You just blurt all that without telling me a good reason why?!” Jurina exclaimed.

“This project… was personally asked by a government councilman, as well as my best friend,” he looked over his shoulder with cold eyes, “It required your DNA. And the clone to be produced would be you, six years earlier.”

“Y-You’re cloning… me…?”

“And as such, there could not be two Matsui Jurina living under the same roof. Especially when this project is for a ‘patient’ suffering from anthropophobia.”

Fear of people… “Why me and not someone else?!” Jurina pressed on.

“Because when you were ten, you were quite the Good Samaritan. Many have learned good qualities from you and adored you as a perfect example. An angel. My only daughter too, of course,” he turned back to face his daughter once more, “… Henceforth, you are perfect for this experiment.”

“That wasn’t even a good explanation darn it!” Jurina felt like wanting to storm out of the lab immediately after giving her father a few punches but held it in, inevitably bursting into tears in the process.

The man did not budge but instead, handed Jurina an iPad that an assistant quickly handed to him after he had subtly nodded. Jurina bit her lips, looking into the screen and a video footage of a young girl was shown. She assumed she was about six and felt chills down her spine when the footage showed how violently she acted in front of a group of people who tried to approach her, which included footage outside of her home and inside, where it seemed like a family gathering. Another footage showed how she was in her room. She would be at a certain corner of her room with the lights off, hugging her legs without doing anything, just, sitting there. Her parents enter her room periodically and individually. Fortunately, she does not retaliate violently and acts rather lifelessly when her mother feeds her or cleans her up.

Jurina pitied the poor girl. Just what happened to her that made her this way?

“The patient’s name is Miyawaki Sakura. She had been diagnosed with that phobia after being kidnapped once. I heard they were child rapists. But her father, being a councilman, managed to cover up the story and prevented any leakage of the story being published on the media. The men have been jailed but the horrifying experience she had to go through remains,” Jurina’s father began explaining after the video repeated itself.

“It would explain as much then…” Jurina’s sympathies for the girl managed to overwhelm her anger and frustration towards her father. 

If cloning me would help her and give her a brighter future… I would definitely sacrifice myself... even if it’s for someone I don’t know… but that’s what I would have thought as the ‘me’ from years ago... now I......

“You do understand the situation now then?”

Jurina looked upwards into her father’s eyes before looking away, having mixed feelings circling around within her, “… When am I leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he handed the iPad to an assistant who just passed by him, “Your contribution would help society and change the life of this girl if everything is successful. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Jurina ignored his question and turned around, facing the exit, “… I hope your experiment succeeds. Goodbye… Father,” and she left, taking big steps towards the door.

“… Sir, weren’t you a bit too direct with your daughter just now…?” A female assistant squeaked when she approached him. She had heard everything, working rather close to where the father and daughter were conversing a moment ago.

“A scientist must let go of his emotions and attachments if he wants to succeed. Do not pester me with insignificant familial issues. Get back to work!” He glared at the woman and she quickly bowed apologetically and returned to her ‘station’. Jurina’s father massaged his temple and felt a burning sensation starting in his eyes. 

There is no time for tears. This project must succeed.