#we did in the end have a shared grief event like 9 months after

[star-anise]

"Don't grieve for me when I'm go—" listen up here asshole. If you wanted to tell me how to feel about your death, you shoulda fucking stuck around. You're not here so you don't get a say anymore. You're not the one who has to deal with the emotional and logistical consequences of your passing. You are the missing piece in my life now, so you have (had) neither the knowledge nor ability to predict the best way for me to cope with it. And frankly, yes, I would have felt better if there'd been some kind of massive event where I could join everyone else grieving your loss and we could say to each other the awful hollow things that can't make it okay but can make it better, and then we could go get drunk about how much we missed you. So frankly, go fuck yourself. I miss you like hell. Hopefully you can take this criticism on board the next time you die. xo.

[foreverwcnter]

cardigan / p.p

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

summary: “you thought i was dead?” after you go missing with no leads to what happened, you are presumed dead and peter writes letters addressed to you, to help with his grief

word count: 3k

requested: no

warnings: semi character death, heartbreaking angst :( , fluff

a/n: this is for @ariistotles​ lovely writing challenge! i am using prompt 9 for my fic and i hope you guys enjoy!

two days. forty-eight hours. two thousand eighty minutes. one hundred seventy-two thousand, eight hundred seconds. that’s how long you had been missing. the team of avengers, including desperate peter parker sat around a table, staring at the very little evidence they had of your disappearance. it was only two nights ago when you and peter had been cuddled in bed and you had left to go home. 

evidently, you never returned home. 

peter ran his hands through his hair with frustration, eyes bloodshot red from crying. he was terrified and guilty, knowing if he had just walked you home, he wouldn’t be staring at the picture of you on the screen in front of him.

“we have no leads,” sam wilson stated,” the only evidence is this cardigan.”  

peter knew you were wearing it when you left. he recognized the cute patches of stars scattered on the knitted sleeves and the oversized buttons along the ends. it was always so big on you, he didn’t think you would have bought it from that thrift store, but the moment you laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it. you had fixed up the holes and messed up seams, it looked like something someone would shove under a bed. but you took it into your care.

“she was wearing that after she left my apartment,” peter explained, voice cracking. the entire time he had been silent as they investigated your disappearance. “she almost forgot it but i reminded her.” 

peter took a glance at the cardigan, instantly taking notice of the blood-stained sleeves. 

“we have to find her,” he finally added, one tear slipping down his cheek. tony hadn’t spoken at all, and peter knew why. peter understood what it felt like to lose someone. there was a chance you’d be found again, but it was slim. you were just gone. 

the next few days were hell for peter. they hadn’t found anything and all he wanted to believe was that you were at least alive. everyone around him seemed to be giving up already. peter had even overheard tony talking with the other avengers, thinking that you weren’t alive and he’d have to plan a funeral. peter refused to give up, he couldn’t believe the idea that you were dead. there was only a glimmer of hope left in some of the avengers. every day that passed, the more likely it was that you were dead. it wasn’t until two months of searching, they finally gave in.

tony kept the funeral private. it took everything in peter to just crawl out of bed that early morning and may had to help him tie the tie for his suit. his hands trembled too much to get it straight. he didn’t want to believe you were gone, but by this point, he was giving up himself. everything at the funeral was dark, the opposite of what you were like. you always had the brightest of smiles, your hair would always smell like fresh daisies from a meadow. everyone who gathered around was silent, staring at an empty casket, watching it get lowered into the ground. 

peter found himself alone after the casket was six feet under and collapsed to his knees in front of the gravestone. tears openly fell down his face, as he stared at the name written on the stone. y/n stark. he wanted to stop making events like this so familiar. first his parents, then uncle ben. now you. the love of his life, the person he dreamed of marrying. some people see this as an unattainable fantasy because when you are young, they assume you know nothing. but peter was sure. you were supposed to be the one. his endgame. but you were gone. 

a hand tapped his shoulder revealing the familiar face of tony stark. seeing him made peter fall apart as tony pulled him into a tight embrace. peter finally let it all out. with his shoulders shaking with sobs and soft cries leaving his breathless lips, peter parker was finally showing his grief. 

grief was a fickle thing. it constantly changed. peter had been in such disbelief for the past months you were gone, but now he was trying to bargain with what happened. he gave his suit back to tony, he moved on from being spider-man, and tried living normally. he was trying to change himself for you. but it was hard. it took every amount of effort to bring himself out of his bedroom. the only thing that kept him going was the desire to do things you would want him to do. it didn’t take long for aunt may to take peter to a therapist. they could help him sort out the pain he was holding onto.

“tell me about her.”

“y/n was the perfect example of joy,” peter admitted with a desolate tone. “she was always looking to help anyone before herself. something she got from her dad. her hair always smelled amazing, like a garden almost. she liked to braid it, and stick flowers in it. y/n got the idea from tangled…” he paused, staring at the ground. he had planned a date before you went missing. he was going to take you to a lantern festival. where you could recreate the scene from tangled. peter knew how happy it would have made you. but you were gone. you’d never see the lanterns, you’d never live that dream.

“she had a cardigan… something she found at a thrift store, on the ground without a price tag. it had holes in the sleeves and she chose to patch them up with little stars. it was always too big on her, y/n always wore it with everything. i never saw her without it. she once forgot it when we left for a road trip, made me turn around to go get it for her but i was happy to,” a rare smile came onto peter’s face as he thought about the dimples on your cheek when he had put the cardigan around you. the smile faded,” it was the only thing they found when she went missing. it had blood on it and i know something bad happened.”

“i couldn’t stop it. i couldn’t save her.”

the woman in the chair across from him said nothing, just stared at peter as he avoided her gaze. after a couple moments, she began speaking,” you need to figure out a way to say goodbye to y/n. i understand how hard that may seem, but there are ways. i want you to write letters addressed to her. just start with something normal, you don’t have to address her death in the letter, just make it between you and her. the more you write these. the easier it’ll get to let go. “

peter stared at a blank piece of paper for hours that night. he didn’t know how to start. every time he picked up the pen his hand started shaking and he was too scared to write your name. with a frustrated groan, he jumped onto his bed, face buried in his hands. normally, peter would go to you to talk out his stress, to feel your arms around him but he couldn’t have that now. 

that’s when he took notice of your cardigan hung on the corner of his bed frame. he took it into his hands, letting out a sigh. it was the only thing he had left out you. the only part of you that was left behind. so peter put it around himself, pulling his arms into the sleeves. it felt like you had your arms around him again and gave him the boost he had been looking for. 

so he wrote:

my love y/n,  

i don’t want to talk about you being gone yet, just let me have this moment to tell you the things i didn’t say. you were perfect. you are still perfect. i know that sees unbelievable to you, but every moment i shared with you, i cherished like a child would cherish a new toy. 

except i never grew tired of you. you always came with new surprises. whether it was the time i thought you had never watched star wars and you admitted to being one of the biggest star wars nerds there is or the time i caught you crying to rom coms when we were friends, wishing you had that kind of romance. you were a hopeless romantic. mj said you were always looking for a disney prince of your own. i hope i was good enough to earn that title. i hope i gave you your dream love story. because every moment i spent with you was something exhilarating and i ever wanted to pass it up. 

 i just hope i was enough for you.

peter knew the letter was short, but he couldn’t bear to finish. tears marked the page with scratched out words and messy handwriting. he was supposed to write a letter every day. every day until he was able to say one word. goodbye. 

slowly he started getting there. very slowly. 

every day he wrote a new letter. they consistently got longer, but there were days it got short. he tried his best to avoid talking about you being gone. sometimes the letters were simple, saying i went to the grocery store for the first time in awhile. i saw your favorite snack and ended up buying it. i never liked it until now. i guess you influenced me so much.

there were harder days though. these days the paper would be stained with tears and may would come into his room and would find him crying. those letters always had the words “i miss you” and questioned why you had to go so soon. 

there was only one thing he always did when he was writing these letters. he was always wearing your cardigan. he even began wearing it just around the house or to school. may never failed to notice and would wash it for him to wear the next day when peter forgot. having the cardigan around him made him feel comfortable and safe. almost like you were right with him. he even wore it to his second visit with the therapist, four months after your disappearance 

“it’s getting easier to write the letters,” the brunette boy admitted, fiddling with the ends of the sleeves. “i’ve wrote so many already. it’s almost like i can still talk to her, even when she’s gone.” 

the woman smiled. “that’s good peter.”

“but remember, the goal isn’t to hold on, you have to let go. you have to say goodbye.” 

peter hated the sound of it. he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, he couldn’t imagine moving on from you because every day he still missed you more than anything. 

it took another six months for him to finally write a final letter. ten months after you had disappeared.

my love, y/n, 

this isn’t an easy one to write. these past few months have been hell but i’ve rolled with the punches. i just left flowers at your gravestone. chrysanthemums, your favorites. it’s always been hard seeing your name on that stone and not seeing you next to me.

i miss every inch of you, y/n. i miss the feeling of your lips on mine and the tender kisses you’d press on my neck. i miss watching you fall asleep, i miss running my hand over your back while you snored. i miss seeing your beautiful face, the one that never failed to make me smile. every time i see a star wars movie come on, i’m reminded of your constant rants about padmé and anakin’s romance and how badass all the women of star wars are. i even still think about the day i met you. we were just kids, and you pushed over some other little kids for me. i think that was the day i knew you were important. it only just now dawned on me.

and the best part about you was when i felt like an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite. just like the one you used to always wear.

but i think the one thing i miss the most is just your voice. you always talked me to sleep on rough nights. it’s the same voice that got me through the trials of being a hero, the one that comforted me after hard patrols and nightmares. it was the one that sang ‘i can see the light’ from the lantern scene from tangled everytime we watched it. it’s the one i miss the most and i’d do anything to hear it again, y/n. 

but for now, it’s your turn to listen to me. and listen closely. i love you. you were my soulmate and i still think you are. i loved you then. i love you now. and i’ll love you forever. we’ll see each other again, because you always come back to me. you’re my angel. my love. my dream. my soulmate. my darling. the love of my life. we’re meant to be together. i know one day we’ll find each other. and when we do… i’ll never let go of you again. 

y/n stark, just do me a favor. keep on being you. wherever you are. i’ll keep on being me. i’ll carry on for you.

so now i just have to say one more word. one more word that isn’t forever because i know i’ll be with you. you’ll come back to me. i’ll come back to you. because loving you is like being drunk under a streetlight. it’s the thrill of living life and some kind of light near you. even without the light being right beside you. being in love with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

so here it is, y/n. here it is.

goodb- 

peter was interrupted as he wrote, a hard knock from the door of the apartment. for a second, he waited, but it came again. it sounded urgent by how heavy it was and how frantically the person was knocking. he stumbled out of the chair, leaving the open letter on his desk as he fumbled with the lock. once it opened, peter had begun thinking he was dreaming.

because the person standing in front of the door, was you. 

with his jaw slacking, peter rubbed his eyes trying to process what was in front of him. and to think he was about to write the word goodbye, and here you were, back from the dead. his eyes watered slightly as he opened his mouth to speak but no words came. he couldn’t comprehend the fact you were alive. “ y/n… no… how? how are you here? you were dead… this can’t be real.” everything hit him like an oncoming train, he was convinced he was dreaming or hallucinating. was this a test? was this testing him to see if he was actually prepared to say goodbye?

“you thought i was dead?” 

this was what brought peter back to reality. he fell to his knees so fast in front of you, the tears falling down without a doubt as sobs left his thin lips, the ones you used to kiss. everything from the past few months came pouring out. “you were dead. everyone gave up and i didn’t want to but i did. i gave up, i failed you. i did the one thing you told me not to do because i was weak. and i couldn’t hold myself together at your funeral…” you knelt down as he sobbed and choked out every word, pulling him to your chest. “i wanted you to be the one to help me, but you weren’t there. you weren’t here to hug me before and i tried holding on for you. i tried and i thought i was never going to get over it and move on and i never did. i never did, y/n ,because i love you and you are the only person who will be constant in my life even if you were to fall out of love.”

“and i wrote you letters. i wrote you so many letters. i was writing one… just before you came… it was the last one, y/n, the one where i was going to say goodbye and now here you are,” peter’s arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer.

“you don’t have to say goodbye anymore, pete,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before he finally got a clear look at you. you looked no different than before. you had a a few bruises here and there, but you were alive. peter couldn’t believe just how much time passed and you were still the embodiment of beauty in his eyes. 

a smile formed on his face, a dimple showing on his cheek,”i knew you’d come back to me.” 

with that, he pressed his lips against yours, a hand moving up to cup your cheek as yours moved to his hair, running your hands through the messy brown curls. your lips were soft, just like they used to be and they tasted just like your favorite cherry chapstick that you used to always use. peter relished in the tender moment, butterflies coming alive in his stomach as he pressed his other hand on the small of your back. you both pulled away gently, eyes still closed with foreheads resting against each other.

“i love you,” you said gently, pressing a kiss to the tip of peter’s nose.

he returned it with his own, murmuring,” i love you more.” 

his heart fluttered in the comfortable silence and the air still held the same amount of love and adoration for each other as it did before. peter never wanted to give it up and he never wanted to let it go. with the cardigan still wrapped around his shoulders and your arms around him, for the first time in months, peter finally remembered how it feels to be secure and safe. 

you both finally stood up, fingers interlocked and right before you both headed inside, you glanced at peter and asked with a laugh:

“is that my cardigan?”

permanent taglist — @ariistotles​  @saturnpeter​ @skymoonandstardust​ @hey-its-grey​ @pufflypuffle​ @uglypastels​ @learning-howto-be-myselfx3​ @simi11​ @abby-blxck​ @pxterbpxrker​ @euphoricmads​ @neverlandparker​ @fairytaleparker​ @dahliaspidey​ @thegirlwiththeimpala​ @pterprkr​ @cosmicholland​ @theamazingtomholland​ @xoxohollands​ @screamholland​ @beiroviski​ @sunflowerhollands​

peter parker taglist — @myslightobsessions​

[amimons]

Miraculous Sweet-ember (Sept. 30th)

September 30th: Chat Blanc, Félix, & Ladybug

Chat Blanc emotionally scarred all of us I think we can all agree to that. Everything we could’ve hoped and feared for was wrapped in this heart-aching episode. We’ve seen a possible outcome for a premature one-sided reveal which leads to the end of the world. After Adrien saw Ladybug place a gift for him in his room with an attached note from Marinette he instantly put two and two together. We all joke that Adrien is oblivious but in reality, once he gets the puzzle pieces he puts everything together rather quickly. Not only did he put together that Ladybug was Marinette he also knew that meant he was the boy she loved. Discovering that Ladybug was Marinette and in love with him brought him an immense amount of joy. He was basically on cloud 9. He ran off to confess to Marinette his love for her but made sure not to disclose to her he found out her secret identity. And then they finally dated yay!...until his father ruined it. Gabriel being his usual unpleasant self made Marinette break up with Adrien so he can manipulate her into being akumatized. 

Adrien wasn’t going to just let Marinette go so easily so as he went after her he saw an akuma making its way over to her. He knows she is Ladybug so the threat of her getting akumatized was even greater so he transformed of Marinette revealing himself to her...and Nathalie. The two heroes without seeing how discovered Hawkmoth’s identity...which lead to Chat finding his unconscious mother...and...eventually him being akumatized bring the end of the world. Chat Blanc is a cautionary tale of revealing information too suddenly. It’s neither of their faults for the destruction of the world but because the timing was off. Information was being withheld it caused the communication between the two to be incomplete. Their relationship was a good and happy one but because their added responsibilities of being a hero and having a supervillain trying to defeat them it adds complications normal relationships don’t have. So they have to be cautious not to let things slip up too suddenly. Chat Blanc was a great example of why we should take their secret identities more seriously and not get frustrated as to why they cannot share them yet. At least with Chat Blanc we had confirmed information that Adrien does suppress feelings for Marinette deep down, that Gabriel will do whatever it takes to get the miraculous even harming his son and that Marinette and Adrien would be happy together.  

Félix was about Adrien’s trouble-making cousin who happens to look a lot like him. It’s also the first time we’ve seen relatives of Adrien on the show with Félix being from his Mom’s side of the family with his mother Amelie Graham de Vanily who is Emilie’s twin sister. Both Adrien and his cousin can relate to losing parents but how they were shaped by their loss is a lot different than one another. Adrien sees the best in people and wants to make friends. Unlike Adrien, Félix is mischievous and has malintent with his interactions with others. As soon as he got to the Agreste mansion he was already trying to ruin Adrien’s reputation and steal Gabriel’s ring. Through Félix and Adrien we saw how grief can impact people in different ways. 

When Félix pretended to be Adrien his goal was to make all Adrien’s friends hate him after making mean comments to them. This made Alya, Juleka, and Rose become reakumatized and go after Adrien (who was Félix) as revenge for what he has said to everyone. Ladybug who already thought something was off with ‘Adrien’s’ (aka Félix’s) video message went to save him from the akumas. When the rescue was completed she was ready to go back intake them on that's when Félix tried to pressure her into a kiss. Even though she was uncomfortable he still cornered her in and tried to land a smooch. But then the greatest thing happened...Ladybug told him all about consent and punched him right in the face. A great thing to see. Seriously consent is extremely important and Félix was crossing major boundaries. Adrien never would behave in such a way so it was also very telling her that this isn’t Adrien. Ladybug punching a man who was not taking no as an answer was very empowering and I’m glad a younger audience will see this and understand that if someone is making you uncomfortable then you don’t need to put up with it.

Ladybug was another intense, jam-packed episode. It focuses on Lila’s lies, Marinette’s near akumatization, and exploring the depths of sentimonsters. We saw the alliance between Gabriel and Lila in action and the extremes Lila would go to get Marinette's reputation ruined. We finally started to understand why Hawkmoth was so hellbent on akumatizing Marinette. People view her as a good and trustworthy person that it would cause a lot of emotional response if she ever did a bad deed. Alya stuck by her friend and tried to investigate who would’ve framed Marinette. Adrien with such intensity threatened Lila to leave Marinette alone and forced her to clear Marinette’s name. It was also confirmed that Marinette’s akumatization would be a justice theme and seeing her be almost successfully akumatize was a big moment.

With Mayura we saw that it was possible to recreate human life with the Peacock miraculous which was showing this miraculous in its most powerful form. She created another Ladybug to trick Chat Noir so she can take the miraculous from him. This took such a huge physical toll on Natalie and just added more curiosity about what could’ve Emilie used the peacock miraculous for. We discovered that even though sentimonsters are real human beings they act and experience feelings just like humans. The deep insight on how sentimonsters operate was very intriguing and it was cool to see that through a Ladybug version. Hawkmoth also made another appearance after discovering Mayura was off on her own giving us another in-person battle with our heroes. This confrontation ended up being a showdown between Hawkmoth who was holding on to Chat Noir and Ladybug who was holding onto Mayura. We saw that Ladybug valued Chat’s safety over the peacock miraculous and Hawkmoth valued Mayura’s safety over cat miraculous. It was a good faceoff and I’m looking forward to more of them in the future.

About Sweet-ember:

For the month of September I wanted to spread some positivity and praise Miraculous Ladybug on the things I’ve appreciated/enjoyed from the show.

Everyday I’m going to select one particular moment, event, theme, etc. from an episode of Miraculous and shared what I liked from that episode. Each post will discuss 2-3 episodes (from season 1-3; 78 episodes in total).

Whether its something big or small there is something positive that I can take away from every single episode of Miraculous.

Please feel free to add a moment from these particular episodes that you loved to this post as well!

Salt towards the show, characters, ships will not be tolerated!

Sweet-ember posts

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

[18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter III

 AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I finished the third chapter! Made with love and care for your enjoyment. I know this one is shorter, and I'm sorry. But I trust you will like it despite that detail! I made it extra fluffy, after the angst of the anterior, we all deserve a sweet.

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter IV coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 111

TW: None!^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was clear something changed in Kurapika after that night. It didn't go unnoticed by Melody. She noticed in the rhythm of Kurapika's heart that the man's grief was lighter. Not to mention discreet short glances the young man sometimes gave (Y/n) when they were in the same room or how he tended to stay closer to them. Kurapika's heart longed in the days when (Y/n) was not at the Nostrade mansion. 

And for Kurapika? He was neither oblivious of that change. He taught about how (Y/n) would serve him tea or coffee each time they did for themselves. He noticed the characteristic small manias no one else appeared to remark about (Y/n); like the silly way they stood with their hands in front of their chest when nervous, they touched their hair when they were concentrating on their work. Or even their nervousness around crowds. Despite the warmth that thoughts about (Y/n) gave him, they also filled him with doubts and fear. That person saw a side of him that very few had seen. On one hand, it made him feel less lonely, and he shared the burden of his soul with someone who, seemingly, comprehended him. On the other, it was his ugliest side. Don't get me wrong, at no point did he believe his cause was erroneous. It was the fear of lowering his defenses further, which had allowed him to survive so far, to at the end losing someone dear again.

There laid the dilemma. 

~

On Saturday evening, as was customary (Y/n) went to "keep her company"-as Neon referred to her therapy. Neon, her bodyguards, and (Y/n) were in the girl's room; while she just played with her stuffed animals. Neon being herself, talked a lot about her pastimes and trifles. And then it happened. The trigger pulled. "You know, (Y/n) you're dumb sometimes." Neon said directly in the face of the mentioned. Kurapika did not appreciate the insult to his "darling"- Being his boss he couldn't face Neon directly nor punch her, although the desire was not lacking. In the end, Kurapika ended up saying, with a slightly irritated tone, sincerely "Neon, it's time for the pause, we'll all go take a breath" Without Neon giving any value to the subject, she permitted everyone to go. (Y/n) sticking to their routine, headed to the employee kitchen to prepare coffee, and began to boil water. Kurapika also followed, aspiring somehow to comfort them-only something lost in how- stated "That was rude. Are you upset?"

(Y/n) turned to see him, inclined their head, smiled, and denied "No at all! She's right. When I was a child, someone throws a rock at my head, and I ended up like this." - responded teasing, possibly to relieve Kurapika's worries- "Plus, it's not her fault... I mean... she said it, but she's entirely unaware of the impact of her actions on others... Not because she's mean, I'm not trying to be impolite."- they added, gaining a disconcerted look from Kurapika.-"Neon has a dissociative disorder. She has lived in her distorted bubble all her life. Consequently, she disconnected from the consequences that her actions may have!"- (Y/ n) explained excitedly to Kurapika. Their enthusiasm, more than their tone of voice, was also reflected in small movements that (Y / n) made with its hands. Inadvertently, Kurapika smiled, considering their enthusiasm adorable. To finally recognize how charming (Y/n) was to him. 

~

Kurapika was sure he wanted to decide the whole condition with (Y / n), but he was still confused about what to do. He inferred that the wisest choice was to request advice. Next, he led towards the only other person he recognized as his friend in that place. Melody knew that Kurapika was young and inexperienced after all.

"I'm unsure about what to do, Melody. They've greatly helped me with something crucial to me, and I'm appreciative. (Y/n) is charming to me. They're so patient, thoughtful, and kind. I enjoy their company.

But what if it's not worth the trouble? It's illogical; we have known each other for roughly three months. They might not accept it or disappear. I can't permit myself to get disturbed." -Kurapika voiced all the insecurities he had. After a moment of meditation, Melody replied.

"I believe you like them. (Y/n) appears to make you happy, that's true. When they helped you, did they judge you, did they left?"-Melody tried to make Kurapika question his insecurities.

"Not at all; they were pretty reliable."-Kurapika answered, staring away. Melody gave him a sweet smile and continued-"If they proved themselves trustworthy, they merit a chance. I think you deserve to allow yourself a chance. I believe it will do good for you."

"Thank you, Melody." And he returned a sincere smile.

Likewise, Kurapika decided to take his chance. 

~

Already 7:30 pm and the workers of the Nostrade house were leaving. (Y/n) was preparing their bag when they felt a slight touch on the shoulder. Kurapika quickly took a step backward when (Y/n) instinctively shrunk in surprise at his touch. They promptly looked at Kurapika, who cleared his throat before speaking. "(Y/n) do you care to stay a little longer. I require to tell you something."

The mentioned one gave their sign smile as they hummed and nodded-"Sure!"

"Accompany me to the kitchen please, it will be quieter." request (Y/n) fulfilled. Already in the empty room, Kurapika took a deep breath. So many details made him nervous at the minute. He doubted himself. He had no idea how to approach sentimental topics.

(Y/n) 's gaze was on him, but without meeting his eyes. Which caused him to not decipher what they were thinking. He had no idea if they would reciprocate, get angry, or react. If there was something that intrigued and delighted Kurapika, was (Y/n)'s way of being. For him, it was mysterious and transparent at the same time. Genuine but selective in what they showed. And he wanted to ascertain more.

"(Y/n), since our time together has been relatively short, this may seem illogical to you. However, for me, it has been remarkably important and enjoyable. So I reasoned: I like you." 

(Y/n) still without seeing him in the eyes and without changing their smile, blinked a pair of times and sang, tilting their head "Thank you! I like you too; you're quite nice as well!"- Maybe they were a bit foolish after all...

"No, no! It's not that... I mean... I also do like you. I alluded to like you romantically." the young man amed to the person in front of him. Whose eyes widened making and making an O with its mouth. And while a flush creeped their cheeks , also rectified. "I do... too... like you romantically."-(Y/n) proceeded to put a hand on their forehead, the face visibly darker and embarrassed, to tremble-"I... That is much more logical... I am very sorry...I'm truly ashamed. I'm not good at those subjects!"

As (Y/n) felt bad, Kurapika also felt bad. He raised his hands, shaking them and little in denial "It's alright, it's alright. Worry not!" It was an embarrassing disaster. But they were a disaster together.

After some shame whines, (Y/n) sigh and continued "In this case, please allow me to invite you to morning tea tomorrow. It's the last I can do. I beg you." In an attempt to not make things more awkward, Kurapika quickly but joyfully added -"It would be splendid!"- to obtain a -"Marvelous!"- from his newly obtained sweetheart. They both went home ashamed. If something is clear, it is that neither of them stopped thinking about that event throughout the night. Also that the more they reflected on it, the more fortunate they felt.

~

The date was settled! The sole issue was that, due to the embarrassment, they both forgot to arrange an hour. And they both felt ridiculous. 

Kurapika wondered what time would be proper to present, to ultimately arrive at 9:30 a.m. While (Y/n) was waiting for him since 8:30, worried they were going to be late. Since (Y/n) always wore some kind of embroidered floral ornament, Kurapika assumed they liked flowers. And showed up with a bouquet, plus it was the first time (Y/n) saw him with his traditional Kurta clothing.

"Good morning (Y/n). I bring you these, I hope they'll be of your taste." Kurapika greeted, handling the flowers. The (h/c) gladly accepted them as they made a sign to come in.

"Greeting Kurapika! They're splendid. Please come in and get comfortable." they told. Kurapika sat on the couch, and (Y/n) arrived with two cups, a teapot, and a kettle. "Do you prefer tea or coffee?" 

"Tea, please." followed by the answer, (Y/n) poured tea into the cups and sat next to Kurapika. As if it were a silent understanding, neither mentioned anything regarding the incident on the schedule.

"I like your clothes. They are gorgeous!"- a little remark that touched the boy, who muttered a gentle -"thank you." Kurapika reflected a lot about his choice to confess, but he never repented it. The warmth he felt in that moment was pure for him. 

(Y/n) raised his hands to their chest and, fidgeting with their fingers, modestly asked -"I apologize if my inquiring is stupid, but... are we lovers?"- They had their gaze concentrated in their hands. The first thing that people usually think of when meeting (Y/n) is that they were a serious, refined, and intelligent character. This was partially true, but it had a somewhat childish side, more intimate, and it was what Kurapika was witnessing at the time.

"Naturally," he answered.

"I'm sorry if I don't fulfill your expectation for me. You are the initial lover I have. In fact, also my first friend." Despite being a relatively sad statement, (Y/n) had their grin stamped on their inclined face. That smile. That it always seemed the same regardless of the emotion her voice conveyed, with certain narrow exceptions. Kurapika felt the obligation to if they were blue, comfort (Y/n). Just like they had done. 

"I discerned that you invariably smile, and the smile is identical. Can I request an explanation?" He asked, knowing what his goal was. His partner was a bit uncomfortable with the question and shrugging their shoulders uttered.

 "It's quite complex to elucidate... I have some challenges expressing emotions to others. Not because they are not explicit to me.  Just my facial expressions don't mirror my sentiments.

Regularly, in addition to smiling, I can take a serious aspect. It does not cause me much trouble, since people consider me as someone friendly- not that I am not. Though may cause others to judge me uncanny. I'm sorry if it's the case." 

"Do not apologize. It doesn't appear eerie to me." Kurapika assured with a sweet smile. (Y/n) looked him in the eye again, showing their happiness in their distinctive way.

"You are a kind person, thank you." following their remark, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Kurapika and (Y/n) were two shy souls enjoying each other's company. Although everything happening was alien to both of them, they appreciated it.

They needed a little kindness and company, which they seemed to have finally gotten.

Who could have guessed? Neon did something helpful for once!

[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! So I’m rewatching TAB atm and it’s giving me feeeels. Do you have recs for after the get off the plane where John deals with Sherlock and specifically his overdose? I wish we’d had a part 2 where the show went into it, but I’m hoping you can give me some amazing fanfic instead! And Johnlock as friends is good as well as slash!

HI NONNY!!!

AHHHH I love TAB SO MUCH. It’s my favourite Sherlock Ep, and I wish I had more fics related to it :( I don’t have anything new since then, but all these fics are from my S3 / TAB / S4 [FIX IT] Fics list from last March, but because I love y’all, I’ll separate it on its own because it’s pretty far down and hidden, and I know other people would like to read some separate, so here you are!

And friends, if y’all have any TABlock, PLEASE give them to me!! I need more!!

THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE (TABlock) (APR. 2020)

See also: 

S3 / TAB / S4 [FIX IT] Fics (March 2019)

Victorianlock 

ACD Canon

The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.

Loudly Unspoken by Mount_Seleya (M, 1,871 w.,  1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Love Confessions, Vulnerable Sherlock, Frottage) – John confronts Sherlock about the words he left unsaid on the tarmac. Set immediately after TAB.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) –  “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

Journal of Truths by Goddess_of_the_Night (T, 2,317 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV / TAB, Pining, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Declarations of Love) – When John escorts Sherlock back to Baker Street from the tarmac, he discovers a journal that Sherlock has kept secret...that he has kept secrets in.

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

The Trial of Sherlock Holmes by jenna221b (G, 3,015 w. across 3 works || TAB!lock, Metafic / TJLC, Victorian AU / 1895, Christmas, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Oscar Wilde) – Scripts based on speculation that Sherlock will be put on trial in The Abominable Bride to parallel the Oscar Wilde Trials of 1895.

I Love You (Is All That You Can't Say) by theSeventhStranger (T, 3,147 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Post-Tarmac Scene, Fix-It, Dev. Rel., Retrospective, Angst and Fluff) – “Sherlock. On the tarmac. I got the feeling that you were going to, um. To say something else.”

five times sherlock holmes lied to john watson (and one time he finally told the truth) by miss_frankenstein (G, 5,948 w., 1 Ch. || TAB Compliant || Homophobia, Pining Sherlock, Oscar Wilde Trials, Happy Ending) – Set in "The Abominable Bride" universe, this piece adopts a familiar format to chronicle Sherlock's quiet suffering in the wake of the 1895 Oscar Wilde trials and the particular way they affect his relationship with (and feelings for) John.

Drawstring by May_Shepard (E, 7,412 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, UST/RST, Fluff and Smut, Post-TAB, John POV) – John is bothered by Sherlock’s slowly-falling jim-jams… as in hot and bothered and he is trying to deal with a sexy dishevelled Sherlock while also keeping his pining in check.

Never Been This Swept Away by estalita11 (T, 8,531 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Mary is Not Nice, Drug Use, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Set immediately after TAB, Sherlock visits his brother to definitely not apologize about earlier and ends up finally learning a few things that would have been nice knowing about months ago. Mycroft never wants to deal with lovestruck idiots ever again.

Out of the Darkness by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (M, 12,165+ w., 2 Ch. || WIP || Death, Overdose, Heavy Angst, Whump, Mary is Not Nice, Post S3/TAB Compliant) – John Watson has long assumed Sherlock Holmes is immune to sentiment, “doesn’t feel things that way.” Sherlock, however, would do anything for the person he loves most in the world, including putting himself in danger while keeping John in the dark in hopes of keeping him safe. Tired of being left behind, John is running a strategy of his own. Unfortunately things do not go as planned for either of them. And as John lays bleeding, Sherlock finally allows himself to say the things he’s always meant to… This is the story of love, forgiveness and finally making right all the wrongs in these two men’s lives.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

MARKED FOR LATER

Stay for Me by Itsallfine (M, 17,310 w., 7 Ch. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss/Time, Bed Sharing, Mental Health Issues, Not-Nice Mary, Divorce, Angst with Happy Ending, Parentlock) – 221B was packed into boxes and bins, and that was when John knew, really knew—Sherlock had planned to be gone forever.

Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes.

NO! by Tildathings (M, 50,043 w., 36 Ch. || Homophobia, Bed Sharing, Military Uniforms, Past Abuse, Jealous John, Stalking, Violence, First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Coming Out, Sherlock’s Past, Shower, Cuddling, Grief and Sorrow, Hugs, Character Death) – Sherlock has been in a coma in over 8 months after he overdosed on the plane at TAB, during which time Mary and Rosie were killed by Vivian Norbury.  This story starts 3 weeks after Sherlock has woken up. John is asking to move back to Baker Street.

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

[freddiesaysalright]

Beautiful Mess Part 9

A Brian May x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader works in a bookshop. She meets Brian May and they have an instant connection. It seems to be a fairy tale romance. But, things are seldom what they seem.

Word Count: 3k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @mrs-jack-murphy​, @not-john-watsons-blog​, @simmisblog​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @thosequeenboys​, @lv7867​, @maymacca​, @rethought​, @brianslittlepet​, @jinxy93​, @stephydearestxo​, @mrcleanisthicc​, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​, @readinghorn​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @reedusteinrambles​, @borhapqueen92​, @1204-moonchild​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: I’m so sorry this update took so long! Things have been crazy between dance, my niece being born, my grandmother getting surgery, and then I got sick! I hope you all enjoy this next part :)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  

Part 9 here we go!!!

AIDS.

Your head spun with how hard that hit you. You didn’t know much about it, only that it was essentially a death sentence. There was treatment, but no cure. How? How had this happened to Richard?

Several emotions went through you. Shock at the news that Richard was gay. Hurt that he had this diagnosis. Anger that he was cursed with this. Devastation because you were going to lose him. Sooner or later, he would succumb to it. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a complete loss for words. What could you say? 

“I’m so sorry,” Brian said.

That didn’t feel like enough.

“Thank you,” Richard replied. “Y/N, I...I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to worry. I’m still going to take care of you.”

You found your voice at last.

“Jesus Christ, Rich,” you said, barely audible. “You come in here, tell me you’re dying, and you’re worried about what’s going to happen to me?”

“Well, there’s no use worrying about myself,” he said. “I know what’s going to happen to me.”

You heard bitterness and anger in his voice as he said it, though it bubbled just below the surface. Richard was not an emotional person, so even if he wanted to scream and cry about this, he never would.

“What do you mean you’re going to take care of her?” Brian wondered.

You were hit with a wave of gratitude for him. He was moving the conversation where it needed to go instead of lingering on this terrible news. His lack of emotional attachment meant he could be logical and get the information. You, meanwhile, were still frozen with shock.

“I’m leaving everything to her,” Richard explained. “My entire share of my inheritance will go to Y/N upon my...departure.”

This snatched you out of your daze of grief.

“What?”

Richard looked at you. 

“You have been the one person who really cared about me, Y/N,” he said gently. “You saw me as a person, even more than my mother and father, who looked at us as pawns. Means to an end. Everything I have would have been yours anyway.”

You blinked back fresh tears.

“Hold on,” you said. “You’re talking like you’re going to die tomorrow. There’s treatment and -”

“I’ve turned down treatment,” he said.

Your hand snapped to Brian’s. You needed something to hold onto or the continuous blows from Richard were going to knock you on your back.

“W-why?” you breathed.

“I don’t want to prolong anything,” he began. “I don’t want to drag out my life when there’s no point. I’m going to meet my fate head on and with dignity.”

You weren’t quite sure what to make of that. Did he think that was some sort of bravery? You felt like he was being selfish. But it also felt like it was selfish of you want to keep him here when he could be at peace. What was the right way to feel right now? Too much was happening all at once.

“That’s not all,” he said.

“Don’t tell me anymore,” you winced, and you felt Brian squeeze your hand. “I’m about to fall apart as it is.”

“This isn’t too terrible,” he said and a small smile flashed briefly across his face. “I’m going to the estate in Switzerland to live out the rest of...well, the months I’ve got left.”

“Months?” you questioned.

He nodded. “I want to have some peace and quiet and...solitude. I’ll get word to you when I think it’s close, and I hope you’ll be there with me when…”

The thought of it made your heart feel like it was being clawed to bits.

“I’ll be there for you, Richard,” you promised.

It was the last thing you wanted. But you felt you owed him that much. He cleared his throat and got to his feet.

“I’m sorry to have utterly ruined your morning,” he said. “Especially after the recent events. I’ll let you take all this in.”

“When do you leave for Switzerland?” you asked quickly.

“In a month,” he answered. “That gives me enough time to get my affairs completely in order.”

“Alright…” you trailed off.

A surge of emotion was brimming up inside you.

“I’ll see you, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and striding over to you. He leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Please don’t be sad for me.”

You could only nod. You could hardly even look at him. You heard the door close, and he was gone. Part of you wanted to call him back. You needed every moment with him you could get because soon enough he wouldn’t be here.

Brian’s voice pulled you back.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You shook your head as your lower lip began to tremble. Then, you completely broke down. You fell into Brian, who just gathered you up in his arms and whispered comforting words to you while you sobbed. He held you tight, stroking your hair, and showing you the utmost love and support. All you could do was wail and soak his shirt with your tears.

It was several minutes before your breathing evened out enough where you could talk. Even then, it took you a while before you could get any words out. 

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you whimpered. “I’m such a mess...everything is such a mess.” 

“Dove,” he began, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You’re the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.”

You half smiled at that.

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He leaned forward and kissed your lips sweetly.

“You’re not a mess,” he said simply. “You’re human. A lot has happened to you lately. You’re allowed to cry and be upset. This is a lot to take in.”

You tried to smile, but it faltered. Then you let yourself rest in his embrace. You remained on the couch for hours, holding tightly to Brian because he felt like the only solid ground left. Everything else was crumbling beneath you.

The next day, Brian returned to the studio. You went with him, not wanting to be alone. Cat came along too, which delighted Freddie when you all arrived. They were also thrilled to see Brian, and embraced him warmly. Freddie and John greeted you, but Roger still seemed to be holding a grudge. You understood it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Roger was one of Brian’s best friends, and you wanted him to like you.

“Welcome back, mate,” Roger said warmly to Brian.

“Thanks,” Brian returned, same as he had with John and Freddie. “Have I missed much?”

“You’re going to love what we’ve done with Roger’s song, darling,” Freddie began, and he led Brian away, leaving you alone with John and Roger.

“How are you, Y/N?” John asked politely. 

“Alright,” you replied.

You were still reeling from everything Richard had told you.

“Look, I wanted to apologize to you both,” you said, deciding to just rip the metaphorical band aid off. “I know I’ve put Brian through a lot, even physically - he could have died that night - and it’s hurt you guys as well. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” John said. “But to be clear, Brian May will die when I’ve killed him out of petty malice and not a moment sooner.”

You both chuckled.

“Thanks, John,” you said, and he nodded. You looked at Roger.

“I…” he began. “You hurt him really badly, Y/N. I’ve never seen Brian this...I dunno, this affected by someone.”

You looked down. If only Roger knew how deeply you felt his words. You still had some of that guilt placed on yourself.

“I understand,” you said. “I know I acted selfishly. But please believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to keep Brian from getting hurt again. I love him so much. Honestly, Roger, I’ve never been this affected by someone. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Brian and I plan on spending the rest of my life showing him that.”

Roger heaved a sigh as he looked at you. He ran a hand through his blonde locks and bit his lip.

“Just...take care of him, okay?” he said. “He’s the most absentminded fucker in the world, and he needs someone to look out for him.”

“I’ll guard him with my life,” you promised, a smile slowly forming across your lips.

Roger stuck out his hand, and you shook it. He was hesitant, but willing to accept you for Brian’s sake. That was the best you could hope for right now.

The band got to work, and you watched them. For a moment, you were transported to a place where you had no worries. No Richard, no store, nothing. It was just music. Before meeting Brian, you had never had an appreciation for rock music. But he showed you now and during the show you attended that it could help anyone escape for a time. Seeing them all work together and create such a sound was a pretty incredible thing to watch.

As the hours passed, you became more restless. The urge to occupy your mind with your own work was overwhelming, but you had not seen the shop in days. When the band took a break for lunch, you told Brian you were going for a walk.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he wondered.

For the first time in days, you wanted to be alone.

“I’m alright,” you said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at you but he didn’t argue. You slipped your coat on and disappeared down the hall before popping out the door. The frigid air felt refreshing on your face. It was crisp and sharp. You walked down the street and saw the shop before you normally would have. There was still police tape around the window and glass littered the sidewalk. The window was covered by a large piece of wood. It looked like it was shut down permanently.

Your heart broke at the sight. It looked so...sad. Standing alone, dark, and empty. All those books with no eyes on their pages. You took your keys from your pocket, unlocked the door, and went inside. 

This sight was even worse. Glass was still all over the floor. The spot where Brian lay was still stained dark from where he bled. There was also spatter from the confrontation by the counter. And drops leading from where Brian was laying to the front door, showing the path he’d stumbled when the intruder let him go.

You also noticed that the place was still decorated for Christmas. The holiday had passed nearly a week ago, when you and Brian were still hiding away from the world. You hadn’t even realized. You normally loved Christmas, and spent it with Kimballs, caroling and opening presents. Would you ever find that kind of joy again? You hoped so.

Without really thinking about it, you began to take the Christmas decorations down. Although, you found yourself avoiding the back of the shop. As painful as it was to look at the ruined front, a fear of another ambush plagued you and it was as if an invisible wall confined you to the front half.

You packed all the Christmas decorations into a box. Then you retrieved cleaning supplies from the bathroom and started to wipe away the stains. The police had given you the go-ahead for this, since they had already collected the evidence they needed. You started over  by the counter, wiping up the intruder’s blood first since it was easier. You tossed the rags in the bin. You took a brush over to the place where Brian lay.

As you knelt down, you tried not to picture the way he looked that night. How the color slowly drained from his face and each time he winced with pain. You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, forcing the image away. You began to scrub. Back and forth and back and forth. The suds turned red, and yet there was still more stain.

You dunked the brush back in the soap bucket and started again. The brush swished over the wood, soaking it with warm soapy water. Still the stain remained. No matter how hard your pushed or how many times you scrubbed that spot, it would not come out.

Tears of frustration stung your eyes. Just when you were ready to start screaming, the bell on the door tinkled. You sucked in a terrified breath and whipped around to see who it was.

“Sorry,” said Brian. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You…” you trailed off. “You didn’t. I just...how did you know I was here?”

“Well, you were taking so long, I figured there was nowhere else you could be,” he said. “I just...knew you wanted to be at the shop.”

You sniffled.

“I can’t get this stupid spot up,” you confessed.

You dropped the brush and it clattered loudly to the floor.

“Well, it’s had some time to soak in there, hasn’t it?” he replied.

A beat of silence passed between you.

“What’s the usual turnaround rate between everything falling apart and when you need to start picking up the pieces?” you wondered. 

“I think that depends on the person,” he answered.

He sat beside you on the floor.

“I wish I wasn’t so…I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know what I am right now. I feel sort of numb.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “You’ve lost a lot. And you’re going to lose another big thing, you just don’t know when.”

“I can’t even clean up my shop,” you said. 

“You don’t have to right now,” he told you.

“I want to,” you insisted. “I want to start feeling normal again.”

“You mean you want everything to go back to the way it was,” he said.

“Yes, exactly.”

“It won’t ever be that way again, dove.”

You leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. 

“I know,” you said quietly. 

He kissed the top of you head.

“I love you very much, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too, Brian,” you returned.

You looked up at him and he kissed you properly.

“Come on,” he said when you broke apart. “Come back to the studio. Cat misses you.”

You smiled. “Well, I can’t very well leave him alone, can I?”

Brian helped you to your feet and you left the shop, locking the door behind you. 

Over the next few days, you returned to the shop for short periods of time, getting it back together in small doses. That way, you didn’t get overwhelmed again. You arranged to have it open again after New Year’s, when the new window would be installed.

Brian helped in any way he could, but you insisted he prioritize the band. He had surely missed a lot, and you didn’t want his work to suffer for your sake. Besides, now you had your whole lives to be together. Two days before New Year’s Eve, you had just put the final touches on the shop, when someone walked in. You turned, expecting it to be Brian, but your great surprise, Charlie stood in the door.

“P-papa!” you gasped. “I...It’s good to see you.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so absent, Y/N,” he said. “But as you know, Susan and I have had quite a shock from what Richard told us.”

You looked at the floor.

“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t -”

“I’m not here for an explanation,” he said. “What’s happened has happened and we cannot undo it. Even more important, Richard cannot change who he is.”

You waited for him to go on.

“I…” he took a deep, shaky breath. “I know that my son is going to die and I know the reason. I also know he still plans to leave everything to you.”

You swallowed.

“Is that alright?” you wondered.

His eyes watered as he gazed at you. “Oh, my darling girl. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You both stepped forward and embraced. Relief washed over you. So, you had not lost as much as you thought. Charlie forgave you. You still had your family.

“You really forgive me, Papa?” you asked.

He stepped back and looked at you.

“No,” he said with a chuckle. 

You frowned, brow furrowing at him.

“Because, Y/N, there is nothing to forgive,” he explained with a soft smile. “It’s me who should be doing the apologizing.”

“What?” you wondered. “What on Earth for?”

“Because we forced you and Richard into something neither of you ever wanted,” he said. “And in doing so, doomed you to a life devoid of happiness. We were so desperate to appear like these great lords with their old money, that we forced some archaic tradition onto our own children. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Oh, Papa,” you sighed, hugging him again. “There is nothing to forgive.”

You held each other for a long moment. A lot of unsaid things went into this embrace. With his arms, he showed you that his love for you was unconditional. You did not have to marry Richard to be Charlie’s daughter. You already were. You had been for years.

At that moment, the bell chimed again. This time it was Brian.

“Y/N, I couldn’t find the -” he stopped dead when he saw Charlie. “Oh. Hello.”

Charlie smiled. “Hello, Brian. I’m glad you’re here.”

Brian looked confused. “Are you?”

“I am,” Charlie assured him. “I wanted to invite both of you to me and Susan’s New Year’s party. If you’re sticking around, Brian, we’d like to get to know you better.”

Brian’s precious smile claimed his lips.

“Well, I plan on being around for Y/N forever,” he said. “So, I’m pleased to hear it.”

They shook hands and started talking. You watched, feeling steady on your feet at last. It wasn’t just you and Brian on a little piece of land by yourselves. There was a way forward. A clear path that was forming in front of you. Now, you were stepping into your future together. Despite all the terrible things you’d experienced and heard the last few weeks, you had that to look forward to.

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for Third Sunday of Lent (Dominican rite)

Eph 5:1-9; Luke 11:14-28

There seem to me to be many signs that 2020 is a significant year, an apocalyptic year, a year of the closeness of Christ, the King who is to come. Barely three months ago, as the year began, we watched as Australia burned with terrifying fires; many new year celebrations were subdued or cancelled. And then, news started coming through of a new virus in Wuhan, which has now, like a tsunami, engulfed the world. In Africa, an ongoing swarm of locusts is the harbinger of famine, and in the Eternal City of Rome, the Holy See announced last night that the Holy Week liturgies would be celebrated by the Pontiff in private – something unheard of for centuries. Meanwhile, the stock market is tumbling, the economy is shaken to its foundations, our sick and elderly are dying, and our leaders struggle to understand what to do, as many argue about how to control the public health situation. 

On a personal scale, too, we each strive to find ways to normalise our lives again so that we can once more be in charge of our lives and do as we planned and as we please. For many Catholics across the world, for example, the changes necessitated by efforts to contain and mitigate the spread of the virus, including the suspension of public Masses and other liturgies, has led to sorrow and disappointment but also, anger and dismay. For That which should comfort us has been taken away from us in so many places – not yet in England, but perhaps soon – and this deprivation, for many, is a further indication of the loss of control and normality in these extraordinary times. Hence the indignation and anger and grief, which are symptoms, often, of our love for ourselves and our self-interested desires. 

But, my friends, in these apocalyptic times, in these end times – for if not the end of the world, we are certainly experiencing the end of an era, the end of life as we know it for none of us have ever experienced a pandemic of this scope and virulence before – in these times, much is demanded of us. The Lord Jesus himself has said: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” And this is what I remind you and remind myself of today. So, keep the faith. 

What does it mean to keep the faith? It means to believe that despite everything that is taking place, and everything that you will see and that will happen, and through the sufferings and hardship that you will experience, know and believe that God is good and God is love. Therefore the merciful God desires and wills your salvation, and the salvation of all sinners.  Hence, these signs will sift the wheat from the chaff, and these happenings will challenge our faith. But stand firm. Remember the words of today’s Gospel: “He that is not with Me is against Me; and he that gathers not with me scatters.” To whom shall we go? We have no recourse but to God, who is our refuge and our hope. 

So, hear the words of the Entrance antiphon: “My eyes are ever towards the Lord: for He shall pluck my feet out of the snare: look upon me, and have mercy on me, for I am alone and poor.” And the snare that the psalmist refers to isn’t the snare of physical hardship and pain. No. The snare refers to the trap of the Devil who tempts us, in times of distress, to despair, to distrust God, to lose faith. So, in these difficult times, we must cling to God and ever look towards him. As the Tract put it: “To Thee have I lifted up my eyes… As the eyes of the handmaid are on the hands of her mistress, so are our eyes on the Lord our God, until he has mercy on us. Have mercy on us, O Lord, have mercy on us.” And what does it mean for God to have mercy on us? Not, as many might think, that he will save us from inconvenience and suffering, and restore to us our normality and accustomed comforts – not necessarily, in any event. No, mercy, as I have said before, means that God will give us time in which to repent of sin, in which to change our lives, and so begin to live not for ourselves but for Christ. Thus St Paul exhorts us today: “Be followers of God… and walk in love… Walk then as children of the light.” So, walk by the light of your faith which shines, however feebly but still necessarily, as a beacon of hope in the darkness. Follow the light of faith. 

Therefore, know that, in every circumstance of our mortal lives, God repeatedly offers you and me the graces we need to respond with charity and with humility, with patience and surrender to God’s will, in a spirit of penance. It is not by mere coincidence that the whole Church is being taught during the holy season of Lent that we do not have control of things, but we must surrender to God, and do penance for our sins, and offer up our sufferings for the salvation of souls. All too often we waste the graces of God by complaining, by speaking out against the hierarchy of the Church, by venting our anger and frustrations. But none of these are pleasing to God. Rather, we must mortify our sinful, worldly desires, and die to our sinful selves. Yes, these are end times, because we are called to die to our old selves, and life as children of the light, to walk in the way of love. As a myriad opportunities now present themselves for our sanctification, you can be sure that Christ is near. He is at hand with his grace to purify our desires and to make us his saints by intensifying our faith in God, and above all, our love for him above our self love. 

To this end, I want to share with you the example of a Saint I befriended recently. Earlier this month I had the grace of praying the Rosary in the house where he was born, and in the room where he died, and I felt this instant connection with him. He is a great Saint of the Rosary, and his name is St Francisco Marto. At the age of 8, he had the great privilege in 1917 of seeing Our Lady of the Rosary at the Cova da Iria in Fatima. He did not hear Our Lady – he just saw her speaking – but he couldn’t hear her because God wanted to humble him by making it necessary for him to ask his sister Jacinta and his cousin Lucia what Our Lady had told them. She told them, for example, that Francisco would go to heaven if he prayed many Rosaries. Why? Because the Rosary is how he grew in an intense and deep love for God. And so is it with us. In this time, and in our pain and confusion, keep praying the Rosary as St Francisco did. 

Two years after St Francisco saw Our Lady, he caught the Spanish Flu, the last great pandemic to affect the world. So, in our time, pray for his intercession and ask for his help – he knows what we’re going through. Above all, ask him to help you love Jesus as he did. As he lay dying in his house, he was asked if he was in pain. He replied: “Quite a lot, but never mind. I am suffering to console Our Lord, and afterwards, within a short time, I am going to Heaven!” This great young Saint, only 10 years old when he died, can teach us this most profound truth: that our sufferings are not pointless, and that even in hard times, we can, by God’s grace, unite our sufferings to Christ’s redemptive suffering, and we can console Jesus with our sacrifices. “Nothing else matters”, St Francisco said, except to be united to Christ in heaven, and he longed for this, he said, so that he could console Jesus in heaven! And St Francisco said and knew all this - he acquired such sanctity and love for God - even though he had never received Holy Communion. 

This is worth noting because many people are fretful about not being able to receive Communion at this time. But we can be consoled by the fact that God is not bound by the Sacraments, and so his grace can act upon us, even without the Sacraments. St Francisco in fact received first Holy Communion the day before he died, and he received what he called the “hidden Jesus” in the Eucharist. But Jesus, although hidden, is clearly not absent from his life. And so it is for us. With faith and indeed, through charity, through the divine love active in our lives, evidenced by what we say and what we do, we know that Christ is present and with us.

Therefore, in the dark days to come, be children of the light, and walk in love. Lift up the lamp of faith, and console Jesus - go to him in prayer, pray the Rosary, and do penance for sinners. Then, no matter how apocalyptic things become we need not fear. For nothing else matters, as St Francisco says, except to be close to Jesus, the King whose coming is imminent. 

[aklindap]

Transition in Crisis Podcast

Transitions in Crisis Welcome to Words to Lead By. I’m Linda Parkhouse. Thank you for listening in. If you weren’t listening, I’d just be a voice in the wind. (haha) Let’s talk about transition again as we move toward reopening in many parts of the world. If you didn’t get to listen to episode 10 - The Change Process, you might want to go back to that first. I shared an overview of the book by William Bridges called Managing Transitions. It’s a business-oriented book but the principles apply to all of life. In summary, every change produces loss that needs to be grieved. Then we go into a nowhere between two somewheres, that place where we aren’t sure about what the future looks like and are uncertain of where we fit in whatever future arrives on our shores. Finally, we get a vision for our future and move into the new reality, adjusting to more changes that require grief. It’s a cycle of transition. So, taking these ideas step by step for where we are today, first, change causes loss. All change is a loss of some kind, even if it’s good change. Haven’t we all experienced some loss!? Some of you have lost businesses or significant income. Some of you have watched the company you work for close its doors and you wonder if it will reopen. Some have lost someone they love to this awful illness. Some of you have had to stay away from people you love because of where you work or your risk factors. We’ve all lost any normalcy in shopping, unless of course you always did all your shopping online. Most of our kids have experienced the loss of a rhythm of school and friendships. All of this loss requires that we grieve, that we take the time to feel the feels, yet with the new reality of working from home and schooling your kids, that time hasn’t really been available. Yet we all need to pause and let the feelings come out. It won’t be wise to bury ourselves in a bed and not come out for a week, even if that sounds attractive to some of you. If we suppress our feelings they will come out in anger or bickering or depression or worse. So let’s let ourselves feel. Let’s face the feelings, analyze them and figure out what we can constructively do with them. So that’s step one in transition. Grieve losses. You might want to make a list of losses so you can see what you’ve lost and develop a plan for how to process those emotions. We are all in the nowhere between two somewheres, aren’t we? It’s the Neutral Zone, Bridges talks about. We are in a new and different world and the future isn’t clear for most of us. We can tell the changes we’ve experienced will change the future, but we can’t see with clarity what is around the corner. I don’t think anyone really knows. Lots of people are guessing, but no one really knows the future yet. What we do know is that we will find ourselves in a new reality as it emerges. This phase of transition creates another set of emotions. Uncertainty, lack of control, fear, loss of motivation.. you fill in the blank. Again, it’s imperative to assess our emotions and figure out how to constructively deal with them. In times like this, I am comforted by the fact that God identifies Himself as I am. He says in Matthew 22:32 ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead but of the living.” In this moment Jesus tells us God is eternal, outside of time limits. The reason this brings me comfort is I need to know someone that loves me who sees out ahead and can help me navigate what’s coming. God sees the future and loves me, so I can rely on Him, give Him my emotions and ask for strength and help in this time of need. There are some incidents from my life that illustrate how this dependence on God can work for you. For most of our marriage, my husband flew search and rescue helicopters for the 210th Rescue Squadron in Alaska. This was a high risk job and we both understood that each time we said, goodbye, could be our last. One morning he left for a normal day of work and a friend came over with her kids for a visit. I had a moment of unusual alertness while we were talking and knew that something had happened to Ron. Very shortly a well-meaning co-worker of his called to ask where he was and mentioned there had been a helicopter crash. Of course that wasn’t approved protocol, but he meant well. I remember walking to the big picture window, gazing out across our city to the mountains beyond and asking God how I should respond. My first emotions and thoughts were dramatic. Should I move closer to family? Where would we hold the funeral? And on and on. After a few minutes of these wandering, worried thoughts, God reminded me I didn’t have to make those decision yet. I needed to let God love me and give me peace. So I did. Many hours later, the official call came and I was told Ron was okay. He’d done an amazing job of crash-landing the helicopter with no injuries to the crew and minimal damage to the helicopter. I was relieved and thankful. I was also glad I hadn’t moved past God’s kind instruction to trust and be at peace. The second instance was when Ron left on a rescue mission, leaving a short note that said, “Leaving on a mission. Don’t know when I’ll be back.” The reason this jumpstarted all my emotions and made me wonder about my future is, he never left notes like this and he left a National Geographic Magazine open to a story on Ellesmere Island in Canada. This was way out of the ordinary. I again had a choice. Would I fear, worry, plan his funeral, plan my move, wonder how to tell my kids, OR would I lean in to God and let Him comfort, give peace and carry me through. I chose the latter. 52 hours later Ron returned from one of the most difficult missions of his life. In those 52 hours, I went on with life. I was even out for dinner with our neighbors when he got back. He joined us at the restaurant and was, needless to say, the story-teller of the evening. The third was when I was surprised with a work change that was not welcome and turned my plans upside down. It happened 18 months ago. I couldn’t see ahead and had many emotions that surprised me. I didn’t travel through that season with the same grace as the first two events I mentioned. I think it’s because this was personal. My value and worth were challenged, my plans were upended, a dream had to die and much more. My husband says this was the worst season of our 35 years of marriage. He braved the storm with me, but the emotions raged, the fears came up frequently, the struggle was real and difficult. Through it all, God reminded me He loves me and He is with me. He was not surprised because He can see the future that I can’t. When I let God comfort me, my emotions stayed in a reasonable range. When I tried to solve my pain by myself, it became difficult for me and for my husband. I’m on the other end of all of it and find myself settling in to a new normal I hadn’t planned. I can tell you with confidence that God is with you, He sees you, He is willing to give you peace and strength. He’s a gentleman and won’t force these things on you. It’s your choice to receive those gifts and use them to your advantage. I hope you’ll do a better job than I did at appropriating God’s peace and strength as you navigate an uncertain future. A final example is the terrorist attack of 9/11. That event altered many things in America. We experience fear, grief, loss, anger, frustration, uncertainty - frankly, all the feels of this present time. That event ushered in changes we consider normal now. I remember when we could wait in the airport at the gate with our departing family and friends. I remember when there were no security checks, we just showed our ticket at the gate and boarded. What is now normal was once prompted by an event that created a new future we’re now living in. We’ve gradually adjusted to what 9/11 caused and we will all adjust and adapt to the changes the pandemic creates. We will all move into a future we may discover one step at a time. We will see hope and some possibilities and we will move into them. Let’s plan now to move into those with kindness to others and to ourselves. Let’s acknowledge now, and when we move into it, that even that future will produce change and we will have new things to grieve, accept and adapt to. We don’t know what those changes are, but I believe we will find ourselves with a different social culture, restaurant culture, travel culture, business culture, and more. We can decide now to transition to that new future, with anger, fear and unrest or with peace, grace and hope. Will you join me in facing the future with peace, grace and hope? If this was helpful to you, I’d love if you would leave a review in iTunes or wherever you access the content and share it with your friends. New episodes will come out twice/month on Thursday afternoon. Bonus content will be mentioned on my social media accounts. Just look for, Linda Parkhouse LLC. Catch you next time on Words to Lead By.

[hecallsmehischild]

Grieving the Good

Beyond Boundaries by Dr. John Townsend claims there are six components for grieving a lost relationship. Most of the steps are already inherent to how I deal with pain, and I recognized each as I went through them. One, however, took me off guard. It makes sense, but it hadn’t been said to me before.

3. Name what you valued.

When you value someone, you affirm that he or she is important to you. When the connection is over, there are certain aspects of the person and the relationship that you miss the most. There are the values you have to grieve. {List of examples follows}

Sometimes, the value you need to grieve is connected to specific memories as well. It could be a trip you took or a private joke you shared. It might be a time of deep intimacy in which you were very close. Perhaps it was good times with the family.

Why is it important to name the specific things you valued? Because you must say good-bye to the entire person, not simply the negative parts of the person. You cannot walk away from the things you disliked, which may be the things that ended the relationship, without also saying goodbye to the things you loved as well. A half grief is never a healing grief.

It has been seven months since I ended a ten year friendship. Things have been better. I feel more healing every week that goes by. However, I am still stuck some days. I still cycle fruitlessly through each thing that hurt me. In my head, I argue and shout and scream until I’m acknowledged. I deliver biting, sarcastic lines designed to cut. I make it so that this time, I’m not the one in a thousand pieces on the floor.

I can’t seem to move on from this simmering anger on the back burner. I want it to protect me, but I know that’s not what it will do. It will turn into bitterness and a permanent wall that will hinder me from connecting to new people in my life. I also know, though, that if I try to suppress or ignore it, it will come back to bite me in other nasty ways down the line. So I continue to try and find ways of legitimately dealing with it, torn between letting it run its course and trying to find ways to let go.

I have grieved the negative parts and events for months, now, though I have not publicly disclosed all the specific events that led to this dissolution. It is time to grieve the good. I will grieve the good without asking which parts were lies and which were truths, because I’ve already asked myself that untold times and there is no answer to be had. At the time, it was all true, and I will grieve that.

My friend,

You are one of the two people that I know who writes at what I call a college-Lit-class-level. It’s a very specific compliment that carries a great deal of my awe. I know many truly wonderful writers who floor me every time I read their work. But I do believe your work, if published, could be taught in college classes. Not everyone would get it. You probably will not have a broad readership. It took me years of reading your writing to start to understand what you were getting at. It’s a small niche, but people who understand what you’re saying, well. Their conscience will be smitten. Your wordplay and sensory overload descriptions are brilliant. I will miss getting to read your work in advance and offering what I could to the editing process. I will miss cheering every time you got accepted for publication. I will miss collecting any printed piece you got published and begging for your autograph. I grieve that I will never hold your published novel and say, “See? I knew you could do it.” I still know you can.

We made two books together. Did you know how fun that was? Yes, there was some pain in the process, but we made two children’s books. You crafted two lovely stories. You weighed in on design ideas and I illustrated them. I am much more comfortable with my tablet and Art Rage after 9 and 6 months spent on the respective books. I have some concept of character design, simply by doing it over and over. This isn’t something I ever sought to pursue myself, but I learned a little of it through trial and error and repetition. Perhaps you will take the stories and have someone else illustrate them for publication. That is okay. I have my copies. They are the only two I can’t part with, even now. I will miss creating children’s books with you, friend. I grieve the ones we will never make. I grieve these ones will never be seen, but for the few copies that exist among friends and ourselves.

I miss sharing music with you, trying to find songs you would enjoy and occasionally finding for you one you’d searched for without success. I will never hear many of the songs you would have sent me, a lifetime of accumulated musical taste we could have traded.

I miss your passionate conversation about topics that interested you. You were never annoying, in spite of your concerns about being so. I could have listened to talk about your passions for hours. I miss how, when we got together, we could (and did) literally talk for hours, as if jamming together all the time we hadn’t spent together. I miss our long-distance communication. The wall-o-text emails. The few months we did Marco Polo, when we thought it would revolutionize our communication to be able to pick up on tone and facial expression. I miss getting to show you the cool little mundane things about my day. I grieve the loss of our communication.

You and I shared our deep sorrows and victories. We shared vulnerability and acceptance. We both mourned friendships that didn’t last or people who used us and wondered why people were so quick to cast loyal friends aside. I thought I could talk to you about anything and everything that hurt. I kept that belief very shielded from the things I knew I absolutely could not bring to you. Fortified heavily with denial was the belief that you were a safe person, and during the time I believed it, it was a good thing for me. I grieve the loss of that. I grieve the loss of trusting that you were really going to tell me the truth once you confessed to your lies, and that there were and would be no more lies between us.

I saw a great beauty in you, and I wanted so desperately to see that beauty bloom and grow, and to have been a small part of that because I felt you were so much wiser, smarter, more talented than me. I grieve that I will never see what becomes of you in this life up close. I hope, desperately, that you do heal and grow.

Once, when I really needed it, you stood up for me. Though details have come into question, now, in that moment I fully believed I needed it, and you were there for me. In the very early years of our friendship, you provided a friendly and safe-feeling place to talk with you. We talked about anything and everything. I grieve that.

I grieve the gifts I could not keep, chosen with care for every birthday and every Christmas. I grieve the joy I took in picking out gifts for you as well.

You loaned me your knowledge. Knowledge about health and food, theology and psychology. Book recommendations that were dead on what I needed to know and what my brain was able to process correctly. Articles you sent that made you think of me. You have had your head more in the real world than I ever cared to, and when I was stymied about how to even research, you shared your store of collected knowledge with me.

You had such insight. I felt that you “saw” me, and you phrased what you saw in me all so beautifully. I thought I was so fortunate to be friends with someone like you, who would point out my strengths in such a healing way. Do you even comprehend what a balm your words can be, when you want?

I remember playing the What-Does-M-See game. Because you said you could see the spiritual realm. Now I don’t know what to believe, but at the time, I was always in awe when you saw or described something. Especially if it was about me, and especially if it was accurate to something in my life.

I miss praying with you in the early days, when we first got to be prayer partners in the huge house.

I’d never had a delicious vegan meal before. You astounded me by cooking incredible savory 100% vegan dishes. And I got to cook one dish for you that you fell in love with. And even when we lived apart, it was fun to cook with you over Skype, creating the same dish across several states’ distance.

I’d only recently begun reading aloud books for you. Books I thought spoke to your situation, or books that I hoped held some answers for you. I grieve that I will not be able to share with you like you shared with me.

Slumbertale was a short story born out of our friendship. I wanted to sustain you from week to week. Give you something to look forward to. I miss coming up with a new few paragraphs of the story each week and waiting for your reaction to the next twist in the tale. I miss picking out a weekly treat to mail you. I miss making gestures of Philia (deep friendship)--nearly Storge (familial)--love and having them received. I grieve the loss of the times I was able to shine a little light into the darkness for you.

You actually got me to like parenthesis. With a super creative poem. How even? I was so anti-parenthesis in fiction and storytelling, but you did the thing. I liked it so much I had to literally paint the poem.

Some of my most beautiful artwork and poetry were inspired by something you said or wrote, or a part of who you were. You influenced my poetry style. You twined into my craft sphere. We even started a mini-partnership about my trees, remember? I wanted to start writing micro-fiction, but was having a hard time titling the trees. Your titles were spot on and creative and always inspired a fabulous story. I offered $2 per title if the tree sold because I wanted to. Now I title them myself, and have only just returned to the micro-fiction, because the grief was so sharp.

I believed you were someone worth flying out for on as short notice as I could afford during the absolute worst times. I did this three times. I grieve being able to hold the belief that you deserved this, and much more, from me. I grieve the image of you that I had and refused to release for so long.

I grieve good times in Seattle, the city I never want to visit again because the painful associations now outweigh the good associations. You were the last remaining reason I ever wanted to return there.

I remember one time, during a visit to you, I spiked myself into a panic attack. I had ordered a mocha from one of Seattle’s hipster one-off coffee shops. I could tell from the first sip that the balance skewed way more toward coffee than chocolate, and that it might be too strong for me, but I drank it anyway. And shortly after, my heart was hammering and my breathing was shallow and every dread in my heart came screaming up to the surface of my skin. And I asked you for a hug, and in the middle of the coffee shop, with no embarrassment, you held me. Spoke gently into my ear. Helped me regulate my breathing. Helped me back down to a tolerable level of anxiety (it would be a few hours before the caffeine totally left my system).

You wrote me a journal in response to the one I wrote to you. Then you spent months helping me decode your handwriting so I understood all of what you had to say.

You wrote the single piece of derivative fiction (or fan fiction) that exists for my still unfinished novel. You accompanied it with components of a visual piece of art for me to assemble, one that directly related to the story you’d written, in spite of you “not being a visual person.” It had so much meaning to me.

You gave me a deeply meaningful nickname, and called me that almost to the exclusion of my name.

I miss your laughter. I miss your sense of humor. I miss your warmth.

I grieve the good in you, and I grieve the good I received from you. I grieve the good we made together, and the good we shared with each other. As hurt and furious as I am, I still miss you. But I will not return this time. I cannot express to you how much I hope you heal, truly heal, and learn to relate to people. I wish you well. I wish you healing. I wish you true joy. I wish you a life where you do not have to leave claw-marks behind.

Goodbye.

[charlie-minion]

Hello! I have been following you for a long time and i don’t want to pry but would you like to share what your spiritual awakening was? I am very curious Thanks 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Hey, Nonnie! I... don't know how to explain it, but I'll try. It will be kind of long, though.

As you might know, I spent all of last year journaling and doing my best to recover from the excrutiating depression I'd had for most of my life (including suicidal thoughts). I learned a lot of stuff about myself, and I even had it in me to forgive my mom and deal with lots of traumatic events. However, despite doing all that, I still had a victim mentality (without being aware of it).

Last December, I got myself some poison, but I couldn't bring myself to take it and threw it away. In January of this year, I took a lot of pills again, but they didn't cause any serious harm. I was having a really hard time, and I was at the end of my rope. So, one night, it was like 9 p.m. and I dropped to the floor and started crying like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I did what I hadn't done in months, maybe years: I prayed.

My prayers have never been memorized. I always used to talk to God, but I stopped doing it when I became convinced no one was listening. So, that night I had a long, painful conversation with God and said that I couldn't do it anymore. I begged for help because I knew I wasn't able to do it alone, and if I continued like that, I was certain I was going to end up killing myself. I didn't want to, but there was a part of me that was trying to destroy me and I felt too tired to keep fighting. I was almost ready to give up. I cried and prayed for like two hours and nothing happened. I went to bed.

Then, the strangest thing happened. I woke up at around 2:00 a.m., Monday, January 28th. And when I woke up, I sat down in my bed and there were so many emotions in me that I couldn't express through language. It was like neither English nor Spanish were enough to put into words what I was feeling. The only things I could express through vocabulary I was familiar with were "God is love", "Humanity was created in God's image", "I am love". The rest, I felt but had no words for. I just knew and felt peace and real love. Not the kind of love that we're taught as humans, but the kind of unconditional love that God, Source, or the Universe is all about.

The day before I had that weird experience, I had received a meaningful message I'd been expecting for hours. The message had arrived at 11:11 a.m. and that was the first time such number caught my attention. I had my awakening a little over 15 hours later.

After that day, I started reading about this sort of thing. I started to find vocabulary to express what I had been taught through emotion. I understood why I'd been in pain for so long and how to surrender. I've come across the teachings of Eckhart Tolle, Sadhguru, Dandapani, Dr. Bruce Lipton, and Dr. Joe Dispenza since then, and I've learned how science and spirituality go hand in hand. My transformation started soon after that.

A couple of weeks later, I was able to come face to face with my shadows: my own arrogance and other emotions of low vibration. And I felt such love and compassion for myself as you cannot imagine. I found the root of my fear and understood humanity in its entirety is taught to be fearful since birth.

We are love. All of us. And we spend our lives looking for love without realizing love is who we are. That conditional love we receive from parents, that conditional love we are taught we may receive from the God of religions (only if we obey), all that is human conditioning (aka crap!).

Suddenly, I started to see the patterns in my own thoughts and actions and in the actions of others. Everything became so obvious! And I cried some more, but not out of grief anymore; it was out of compassion for myself and the rest of the world. I understood that God is not out there; Source of energy or God (the word is just a concept anyway) lives within me and within everything and everyone else. One big consciousness.

After that, it took me a while to feel like Karla again. I knew who my body and mind were supposed to be based on my accumulated experiences, and I still play my role when needed. But, I'm aware now of what I do and say; I'm not reacting in auto-pilot mind anymore (or at least not 100% of the time lol).

Every day, little by little, I've re-programmed my mind to find reasons to be grateful where before I used to find reasons to complain. I am not ashamed of my shadows anymore. I acknowledge every aspect of me, and I know each one was born out of a need to protect myself when the environment wasn't safe. I shouldn't consider that part of me an enemy.

I don't play the duality game anymore, where something is "good" or "bad". Things are neither good nor bad. They just are. We are the ones who assign meaning, so I'm training my mind to stop being a victim and become a master.

All of that has been my spiritual awakening. It was a shift in consciousness. I let go of the thought patterns and behaviors that didn't serve me anymore. And I started to work on re-programming my subconscious mind to the best of my ability.

I hope you find this response useful. I know a year ago I wouldn't have been able to resonate with this sort of thing, but look at me now. The Universe works in mysterious ways. 😉

[greywindys]

It’s that time of year again! I, and possibly a good number of you reading this, just spent the whole of 2018 in the Gorillaz fandom. Congratulations! You made it! Because this year...kinda sucked. Not just for the Gorillaz fandom but, if this Washington Post article is any indication, for the rest of the world too. Maybe on an individual level there were moments of light. Maybe Gorillaz was your moment of light. If it was I’m genuinely happy because that means you probably found a way to avoid or ignore all the chaos that went down this year. But overall? Fandom was rife with disappointments, confusion and conflict with some good parts (for me, at least) sprinkled in here and there. Below is a personal reflection on the top 10 significant events in fandom of 2018.

1. Murdoc Goes to Prison

2018 started out peacefully for fandom. We were just finishing up sharing our scans of G-Magazine and theorizing over the next album when we’re treated with this - a nineteen second mocap of a frantic Murdoc accepting a Brit Award with an “oh by the way I’m going to prison.” We didn’t know why or for how long, and, though fans were confused and Murdoc going to prison is a tired, overplayed storyline at this point, it was cherished as any new Gorillaz content, especially animation, is cherished. Memes were made, most notably the #FreeMurdoc hashtag complete with a petition which was acknowledged by creators and caused the first big outburst in fandom for its messy tag. I did what I always do with Murdoc videos and went through the entire thing frame by frame to collect screenshots. Little did I know that this would be the only time I would get to indulge in this beloved past time. Little did I know that I would be wearing the same expression as Murdoc is in this screencap this entire phase.

2. Murdoc hate

Murdoc hate has always existed. It’s also generally accepted. However, when it was confirmed that Murdoc was going to be in prison for an undetermined amount of time and that he may not even speak this phase (thanks a lot, phase 5 plot!) it reached unprecedented levels of viciousness. Some fans took every opportunity to drag him in the main tag, start debates with anyone who might mention one positive thing about him and expressed how they genuinely wanted him to die and/or never come back. It kinda reminded me of this season of MTV’s The Challenge when everyone ganged up on Johnny Bananas. Like, yes he’s an asshole and yes this was probably long overdue but also omg when is there and end point? Is there an end point? It was like some people hated Murdoc more than they liked Gorillaz. For some additional context - this tense environment was born out of an astoundingly severe conflict that happened in spring where three separate fandom storms that had been brewing since late 2017 collided into one huge mess. Discords were raided, friendships were lost, the police were called (I’m not even exaggerating). I won’t go into it more but if you were there, you know what i’m talking about. Murdoc wasn’t the cause of this, but his character was at the center of one of those storms and the canon sending him to prison only reignited the ire towards him. For awhile Murdoc fans weren’t sure were exactly they stood with the greater fandom, and new fans were confused as to why this one green character was the source of so much grief for haters and fans alike. This continued for most of the year (and still continues today), hence why it’s getting a mention now.

3. Ace

Believe it or not Murdoc and Ace are confirmed #friends. You wouldn’t know that from all the Murdoc vs Ace content that sprung out of this year but Ace was the one who joined Murdoc for hot chocolate after he got out of prison, “they go way back” etc etc. Ace was a big deal because it was probably the only time the fandom guessed something correctly this entire year. Jamie began posting cryptic pictures of Noodle with this unidentified man, then another with only the Ace card visible. “It a Powerpuff Girls crossover!” Some people claimed. But that seemed so random? Really? A B-list cartoon villain from a cartoon targeting an entirely different demographic? More likely than you think! Ace never spoke a word and he wasn’t allowed to smoke or have sex. People obsessed over him anyways. To this day I still have no idea who he is or what kind of personality he has or really anything. But he wasn’t a bad guy (more on that later) and he was Murdoc’s friend so he’s alright with me.

4. Messaging Denholm

By now the fandom was fraught with distress on so many levels. We were lost. We needed someone to guide us, to show us the way, to show us the #truth. I don’t know exactly who started this trend but it soon spread around Reddit and other social media sites that Jamie’s son Denholm was replying to dm’s on Instagram and soon, he was graced with a deluge of of inquiries from casual fans and Murdoc stans alike. The thing is though - he actually *did* answer them. Many of us had spoilers re: Murdoc and Ace’s friendship, Murdoc getting out of prison, etc. MONTHS before they happened. I believe he even told us that 2D was fine back in like, June or something. Denholm knew! Eventually we pissed him off but it didn’t stop him from answering. He just answered angrier. It also caused fans to argue more because people started accusing others of photoshopping his responses and nothing can ever be done peacefully here. I haven’t followed up on this story singe the end of summer but I think fans have finally scaled back on the messaging. But I hear he’s working on a Gorillaz documentary for 2019 so...I’m sure we’ll be talking again soon.

5. Noodle

I want to take a moment here to also acknowledge the struggle AMA Gorillaz hosted on, of all places, Youtube. Thankfully, diligent redditors compiled a google doc of all the answers otherwise they would lost thanks to Youtube’s confusing interface. ANYHOW. The answer that stirred up the biggest milieu of debate and confusion came from Noodle. This isn’t exactly my lane - I don’t wade into Noodle issues and I don’t id as part of the LGBT community - so I’m not going to say much here other than, at the very least, this was the second or third time she has officially denied any interest in dating her bandmates.

6. 2D’s journal/2Doc

Okay first of all: 2DOC...jk, jk...jk? But no, honestly, this actually did become a big story this year, much bigger than expected. The release of 2D’s journal was the catalyst here, revealing a number of drawings and images of Murdoc. “Souk Eye,” a song that came with visuals featuring close ups of Murdoc’s face and vaguely romantic lyrics was depicted in 2D’s journal next to yet another drawing of Murdoc. We were confused! 2D didn’t care that Murdoc was gone, right? 2Doc shippers were intrigued. I was hesitant. We were all called delusional. However, “Souk Eye” was later confirmed to be a love song by Damon Albarn, and Murdoc and 2D have both claimed their relationship is “better” since the end of phase 5 (hhMmMmM). Obvi, take this with a grain of salt because it’s Gorillaz but the journal was instrumental in confirming how closely The Now Now (and the entire plot of phase 5, really) was tied to Murdoc and 2D’s relationship, particularly what 2D thinks of Murdoc. Think of it as platonic if you want but they share a closeness on SOME level and the content of 2018, from interviews to the Murdoc chats to the album itself, supports this. I rest my case.

7. Lost theories

Pour one out for all the lost theories. If you were a new fan this year you probably came up with a theory, or you got really invested in a theory. Some examples: HIM from PPG orchestrating the destruction of Gorillaz by possessing 2D and getting Murdoc framed with Ace as a double agent, or Murdoc’s imprisonment being tied to his trouble with EMI from phase 4, or phase 5 being about time travel, or Murdoc crashing Demon Dayz fest and fighting El Mierda on stage, or 2D being the one to frame Murdoc or Murdoc’s inmate number (24602) being a Les Mis reference implying that he’d get a character arc similar to Jean Valjean...you get the idea. But there are dreams that cannot beeee, and there are storms we cannot weather. You can argue about the budget or G-Shock or whatever but the truth is Gorillaz is just disorganized. This is their Brand™.

8. The Murdoc Chatbot

Gorillaz did an interesting thing this year - it let us talk to Murdoc! Sometime around June, he writers decided that the plot of phase 5 would be best spent, not on exploring the band’s dynamic with Murdoc gone or developing Ace’s personality, but on Murdoc! Fandom spent most of the summer following Murdoc’s experience in prison and helping to “free” him via a chatbot you could access through Kik, Instagram or Facebook. Basically, Murdoc was Paddington from Paddington 2, and we the fans were supposed to be the Browns trying to break him out and prove his innocence. Other fans begrudgingly used the chatbot to make fun of him or tell him to die and follow along with the story (it was the only place you could get plot updates). It was a neat idea as well as a funny experience to pretend to be talking to him, and the plot was very engaging at times. It was the chatbot that revealed the very dissatisfying (albeit happy) conclusion that Murdoc is no Paddington and had lied about everything - being framed, El Mierda etc. - but felt really bad about it. His apology was basically this. I’m going to also tag the #FreeMurdoc merchandise debacle, how overpriced it was and how it ended up being pointless anyways because Murdoc wasn’t framed and didn’t need to be “freed” onto this, because it all falls under the same event. Oh, and you got to talk to Noodle sometimes, too. 

9. G-shock ends phase 5

I put “ends phase 5″ in strikethrough because G-Shock on its own is actually pretty cool, and made up for the lack of videos (2 in total) that were released this year. The now Murdoc inclusive band goes to space and starts an alien war! That’s fun! Completely removed from whatever phase 5 was, but fun! (And I say that genuinely) What was messy about G-shock was that it came out of nowhere. The final Murdoc chat, that was SUPPOSED to reveal the ending to the prison arc, hadn’t even happened but suddenly, Murdoc was back to sell watches to aliens with the rest of the band and Ace was gone. But the final chat was delayed by a month and G-Shock came out anyways. Out of this came memes about how phase 5 ended so Gorillaz could try to sell us watches.

10. Cass Browne Tells us the True Plastic Beach Ending

We ended 2018 with not one but two major interviews from the fancast, Hallelujah Monkeyz but I’m choosing to cover their latest interview with Cass Browne, writer of Rise of the Ogre. If you were new this year you probably heard older fans mention ad nauseam how much they missed this guy name Cass. Well, Cass came back and dropped actual bombs about the true ending of phase 3, Murdoc’s lost backstory and the Plastic Beach book he found AND that a sequel to ROTO was planned and dropped. Understandably, this sparked a lot of discussion and also revealed just how important Cass was to the continuity of the Gorillaz storyline. Back then, we had ROTO and Plastic Beach. Today, we have “Murdoc drowns in poop and reunites with the band offscreen”

And that’s the year! And look I’m not saying this because I’m a stan but this was a Murdoc year. He was at the center of like, at least 80% of the angst and joy of fandom and I could make separate “top 10 Murdoc moments” or  “top 10 2Doc moments.” I guess for me, on an individual level, it was an alright year. For one, I actually talked to more people this year and met some really great friends (something I don’t typically do in fandom). I also get to check “write a fanfic” off my bucket list (it’s still a WIP but it’s the first WIP I’ve ever had so I’m counting it). And personally, my life has changed and without getting into too many details I’ve overcome a lot, grown professionally and...I think I can be kinda proud of myself for that. I expect 2019 to be a slower year than this one, and, I think the fandom needs that. Hopefully I’ll still see some of you around because I’m going to be here for at least the next few months while I finish up you know what. 

Honorable mentions: 2D “Dies” of Ligma and other 2D memes, 2D writes The Now Now, Benjamin Clementine says he regrets working with Gorillaz, Noodles old VA confirms Jamie ghosted her and recast Noodle without telling her, Gorillaz delay the final Murdoc chat by a month, Demon Dayz doesn’t get streamed, Music video releases - “Humilty” and “Tranz”, Cyborg Noodle returns with boobs and causes debate, the “Let Ace Speak” petition,

[doomedandstoned]

Closer to the End

Depression is my nemesis. Eventually it will kill me.

...if I let it.

By Billy Goate

Art by RusoTsig (@rusotsig)

Life's falling away from me. The visual evidence is all about. Unopened mail builds up at random spots around the room like mini Towers of Babel. Even things that normally give me great delight -- a recently delivered set of vinyl records -- lie undisturbed in their brown cardboard packages. Meanwhile, my email continues to multiply exponentially: 200 unanswered today, 400 tomorrow, 800 on the day after that (for the curious, the tally stands at 2,359 today). The very thought of opening my inbox makes it equivalent to walking out into open traffic, so I avoid it like the plague.

Meals have become simplified these days -- if it can't be eaten out of a package, forget about it. And all those empty wrappers? They, too, join the general disorder, decorating the landscape of my solitary hovel. Eventually, messages from friends and family go unread. Bills go unpaid (even when there are sufficient funds). The yard turns into a veritable jungle of tall grass, weeds, and sprawling bushes. Clothes go unwashed and hygiene is neglected for days at a time. Weekends are spent pouring over regrets about what might have been, brooding about the end of days.

As any doctor will confirm, these are classic symptoms of depression. What they can't tell you is how hopeless hopelessness can feel.

Karl Briullov - The Last Days of Pompeii (detail)

Black Sabbath’s final show in the Pacific Northwest. Usnea's album release party. Saint Vitus reunited with their first singer, Scott Reagers. The return of Sasquatch. Once in a lifetime small venue appearances by international bands, such as Cult of Occult. A rare hometown gig by Yob. Visits from Goya, Primitive Man, and countless others. Ceremony of Sludge. Even events with the Doomed & Stoned's own name stamped on them. All of these are things I've missed out on in the past year or two because of depression.

It's not that I was too down to even consider going. On the contrary, I was actively planning to go. I RSVP'd, bought tickets, and even checked out the camera equipment to film the shows. In most cases, I'd gotten dressed and readied, even told people to expect me, but for one reason or another I fell under the unyielding grip of depression and came up with an excuse for why I couldn't go. Then one day I just got tired of making excuses and stopped going out altogether.

In one case, I was halfway down the road on a two-hour trip to see Saint Vitus and Witch Mountain perform at Star Theater, when suddenly a wave of grief washed over me from head to spine. As soon as I spotted the nearest overpass, I exited, turned around, and returned home. Even shows I knew would be cathartic (Bell Witch playing their titular Mirror Reaper at a local watering hole) just couldn't cause me to drive a couple miles down the road. The few times I managed to go out, it was because I absolutely forced myself. I practically fought with my inner man all the way there, too -- teeth clenched, hands tightly gripping the wheel, rehearsing in my mind a myriad of reasons why I should just turn back and stay home.

For me, Alice in Chains captures the frustration perfectly in "Excuses":

Everyday it's something Hits me all so cold

Find me sittin' by myself No excuses, then I know

Depression has robbed me of so much. I've missed opportunities to collaborate with musicians and artists because of it. I've pushed away friends and family, until contact between us has become more and more scarce. I've even stopped celebrating my birthday. I have become a shadow of a man.

What's worse, there's been a new development: anhedonia. I remember only casually looking up the meaning of that word when reviewing Undersmile's album by the same name. Anhedonia basically means that you stop finding pleasure in life. As I browse through my friend's timelines, I find it difficult to relate to their happiness. I think quite often of the emptiness of it all, of being alone and growing older, and the ultimate futility of human pursuits. I often feel more of an observer than an actor in the great drama of life.

As you read all of this, bear in mind that I've managed to hold down a steady, full-time job for decades, right up to the present day. You see, some cope by drinking, others by eating, and others still chase the fleeting high of romantic love, but I found my copacetic in work (as absurd as that might sound). I’ve damn near worked myself to death over the past couple years, too, taking precious few "mental health days" or vacation. At one point, I stopped accruing paid time off, because I'd reached my limit and my boss had no choice but to mandate that I take two days off per month. Can you imagine? I’d been known to come into work on the weekend, rather than spend it alone with my thoughts. At least at work, I can stay distracted with something I feel makes some kind of difference.

I can't feel my life Makes me want to cry How bad i feel inside Like I wanna die

Destination unknown Wreckage in tow Depression grows I have no home

Lately, all I've wanted to do on the weekends is sleep. When I'm at work, I'm fine. I'm in the zone. I have purpose. Things make sense. I'm needed. When I'm home, I always have a list of to-dos, but no matter how busy I try to make myself, I find myself suffering with a lonely, aching feeling. It hurts to be alive. That's the only way I can describe it. So I go to sleep early -- and sleep and sleep and sleep -- without so much as the aid of melatonin. All I want to do is go to sleep and forget and wake up the next day and start fresh, hoping all of the oppressive feelings of darkness have left me. I'll sleep 9 hours, 10 hours, 12 hours is not unheard of, then curse when the alarm wakes me up to face the day. I haven't slept so much since I was a teenager.

At least some of my depression seems linked with sunlight. While the sun is out, I'm mostly okay. When I'm taking my meds, I feel possessed with purpose and I'm busy chipping away at a dozen assorted projects, networking with bands, record labels, and PR reps around the globe, auditing new records, editing submissions from my team, and occasionally summoning enough nerve to write an album review of my own. But when the sun sets and darkness takes hold, bathing the landscape in its sinister shadows, everything changes.

In the heart of winter, there is an existential dread that overtakes me when the sun sets. It's almost primitive. There seems to be no rational basis for feeling this way, unless we factor in some kind of code passed along in the evolutionary programming of the reptilian brain over the millennia. You know, that thing responsible for our fight or flight response -- the urge to either take a swing or get the hell out of Dodge.

Loneliness is not a phase Field of pain is where I graze

Saw my reflection and cried So little hope that I died

That cryptic note of horror hints at what happens when our coping mechanisms stop working for us. For me, it was burnout. I worked and worked and worked, and then I came home and did Doomed & Stoned in the evenings and weekends until I inevitably reached a point of absolute and total system overload.

We've seen a spate of deaths in recent years in the heavy music world stemming from depression. It seems to be the creative person's curse. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Linda Nygren of the Wounded Kings. Dozens more artist deaths are listed as "N/A" in Metal Archives, but you always wonder. Even an accidental drug overdose can owe its underlying cause to depression. Often it's hard to untangle addiction from the need to escape acute emotional pain.

Though it is tempting to buy into conspiracy theories linking suicide to pharmaceuticals, chemtrails, fluoride in the water, gangstalking, and covert government ops, it's important to recognize that suicide is nothing unique to our life and times. Narrowing the focus more specifically to musicians and other artistic types, we've had many historic instances of depression. Think Beethoven, Franz Liszt, and Tchaikovsky -- three people who pioneered much of the musical language that doom metal utilizes for expression. Each experienced prolonged periods of melancholia for various reasons, from physical malady and loss-fueled grief to unrequited love and the utter rejection of society. Arguably, Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky died at his own hand.

Perhaps it won't surprise you that many of us who have an affinity for doom metal (though certainly not all) are also at risk for suicide. A recently published study by the University of Manchester found a correlation, though not a causal link, between members of "alternative subcultures" and "the risk of self-harm and suicide." There was no definite conclusion drawn from the piece, other than to point out that a problem exists (no kidding) and that more long-term studies are needed.

I've got a notion as to why heavy music draws the heavy-laden: misery loves company. We're drawn to the mysteriously compelling ability that doom has to commiserate with our feelings, from lyrics that deal so honestly with sadness to the solace of sharing a joint with those who are on a similar path.

But sometimes depression is so severe that you don't want to go out on the weekends at all, not even for your favorite band. Before I get too deep into my own story and how I'm treating my depression, some of you may wonder why I am writing this piece and have decided to share it publicly. I can assure you, I have nothing to gain from this. I'm not crying out for help (I'm too stubborn to ask for it when needed, anyway) and I'm certainly not trying to sell you on anything.

To be truthful, I've been chipping away at this piece (currently standing at 53,726 characters) for two years. I revisit it when the depression hurts the most. It acts as a kind of release valve for me and since that's at least providing some relief, I'll keep scribbling words upon this page. So before you leave thinking this was all just a self-indulgent slab of depression porn, stay tuned. There really is more to the story, including some valuable insights I'm learning about dealing constructively with my depression and its underlying causes -- physical and psychological.

To be continued...

  ★ Read Part II

  ☆ Read Part III

Here I sit writing on the paper Trying to think of words you can't ignore

See the cycle I've waited for It ain't like that anymore

[hiddlesgirl]

SH 311: Lost Souls

After a torturously long 9 month hiatus, Shadowhunters is finally back! I am so excited. This was a great mid-season premiere: packed with action, heartbreak and tender moments. Now it was slightly choppy, jumping from scene to scene and almost ending certain scenes too abruptly, but that’s understandable because we have eight main characters to catch up with in a short amount of time. That being said it was still an amazing episode that made me cry, laugh and smile.

The episode opens with Alec, Izzy and Jace on a mission together; even though it was a short scene I really liked it because I love seeing these three siblings on missions together, and it’s a little reminiscent of Season 1. Plus, they haven’t really been on a routine mission together (that hasn’t involved life threatening situations for at least one of them) for quite a while.

It is abundantly clear that Jace is spoiling for a fight; his moves are more aggressive and uncoordinated than usual; even though he is up against what appears to be a Seelie Knight he is bested much faster and easier than usual. His emotions are getting in the way and interfering with his concentration.

With no hesitation he runs head on into the Seelie’s spear with the clear intention to injure himself even despite Alec and Izzy’s presence, he is in complete self destruct mode. Before walking away he tells Izzy that if it wasn’t for him Clary would still be alive. We all knew that he was going to take her ‘death’ extremely hard, especially with the actions of the Owl hanging over his head. He feels that her death is his fault and is determined to punish himself for it in whatever way he deems fit right now.

I would like to touch on the fact that we seemed to have completely glossed over Alec’s injury at the end of 310, for it being such a big emotional thing in the last half of the episode it is slightly disappointing that we didn’t get to see the direct aftermath. I understand a small time jump but I also don’t like Alec being hurt simply for the sake of an emotional scene and then not seeing the moments after. But it seems like whenever a Shadowhunters gets injured lately an Iratze completely erases it a moment later (e.g Clary landing on the car and now Jace getting run through with a spear).

Also, it also bugs me a little the inconsistency with the Parabatai bond; such as in Season 2 Alec felt Jace cut his hand but in this scene Alec doesn’t even flinch at Jace being stabbed. It just is a bit annoying that they keep placing this huge emotional weight in the bond (especially from Alec’s side) and then being inconsistent with the details of it. At the end of the day it’s something I can put to one side to enjoy the show, but it’s still a little annoying.

The next scene is an absolutely heartbreakingly beautiful montage of Simon, Magnus and Jace thinking about Clary. It’s so beautifully put together from the editing of the flashbacks, to the amazing acting, to the breathtaking song that they use (Lost Without You by Freya Ridings). It hasn’t failed to make me cry yet and I’ve already watched it five times.

Firstly, Simon’s absolutely devastated and swimming in guilt; he believes that he killed Clary, that the mark on his head killed her. You can clearly see how much it is weighing on him and his desperation to be rid of it is clear when he takes a carpenters knife to his forehead. I also think the music was timed brilliantly because as the mark glows the lyrics ‘to have no control’ are sung and that completely encapsulates how Simon is feeling right now.

It completely breaks me to see Simon like this; he is in so much pain with losing Clary and his mother within hours of each other. Once again I am in awe of Alberto, he is so amazing at emotionally charged scenes and whenever Simon cries I cry too.

Magnus has covered his balcony in candles in tribute to Clary, all lit by hand, and his pain at losing her is clear. She was like a little sister to him, he watched her grow from child into the woman she became. We all know that Clary is one of those that he took under his wing (like Raphael, Simon and so many others). I hope that we get some Magnus and Simon interaction in the upcoming episode because I love their dynamic plus I think that they would be a really great support for each other right now.

Seeing Jace cry really hits me because he presents himself a such a stoic character that anytime he breaks down I break down a little too. You can see how much he loves Clary and how much he misses her, plus he feels like he can’t properly grieve because of his guilt. Again, the song timing is brilliant because during his scene the lyrics ‘I’ve been strong for so long I never thought how much I needed you’ are sung, and that is so true for Jace.

Clary is alive! (But we knew that already). She is definitely not happy that Lilith’s plan to resurrect Jonathan has succeeded, he may be her brother but after everything he has done and all the hurt he has caused she is not welcoming him with open arms. Jonathan on the other hand seems to be very eager to please, with multiple offers of breakfast; referring to her as his little sister, his family, more than once. He is trying to endear himself to her by using words that evoke positive feelings in her, he knows how strongly she feels about people she calls family so he is hoping that by driving home their blood connection she will come around to seeing him as such.

When Clary returns his sentiment of them being the only family they each have left you can see the micro-expression of hope of his face, Luke Baines is definitely very good at expressing without much facial movement and I am looking forward to his portrayal of Jonathan. I also noticed that Clary and Jonathan have the Iratze rune in the same place, the right side of the neck, just flipped; I think that this is a very interesting little detail, I wonder if it is something from the books or was a choice made with the makeup team? If anyone knows please let me know.

First Malec scene of 3B! Who else is screaming? Just me ... okay. Although it is only a few seconds long it is a beautiful little moment, we are getting our first look at how much Magnus life has changed now that he is without his magic. Alec reassuring him that he doesn’t need to go to the trouble of applying makeup because he is beautiful the way he is, is everything I needed; I love that Alec is reaffirming that he finds Magnus beautiful. Also that cheek kiss is adorable and long overdue in my opinion (we have waited so long for a sweet cheek kiss).

I also like that when Magnus explains, in a roundabout way, that having eyeliner makes him feel more like himself Alec accepts that. He knows that with everything that has happened Magnus needs some semblance of normalcy, even if that means taking an eternity to apply eyeliner.

It is clear that Simon is absolutely drowning in his guilt over Clary and believes that her death is his fault, Maia is trying to reassure and help him but it seems that she may be struggling with knowing how to help him best. She has never seen him in the state before, and didn’t live through these events with him, so is a little lost about how to help. For Simon, while he understands why she left and need space, really needed support and the person he was dating wasn’t there; he isn’t accusing her or trying to make her feel guilty, just expressing his feelings of needing her.

For Maia, she definitely needed that time to process and I don’t blame her for that at all, the situation with Jordan is messed up and she needed to do what was best for her at that time. But I think that she also understand that she wasn’t there when Simon needed her which has caused a bit of a rift. While they are sitting near each other the scene lacks intimacy and there definitely feels like there’s a slight disconnect.

This is a difficult situation because Maia did what she needed to do and in that time Simon went through some terrible things during which he need support from those he cares about. There is no one to blame, life just happened and it’s no one’s fault.

We know that the escaped prisoners play a big part in 3B especially for Izzy and I think that this is going to be a very interesting storyline; Izzy has always rebelled against the Clave’s view of Downworlders and is very steadfast in her beliefs about justice. I am looking forward to her investigating these allegations of torture at the Gard, it will be great to see her get a complex and important storyline that will impact the Shadow World greatly.

I feel a lot of sympathy for Jace because not only is he grieving for his grandmother (who he only knew for a few short weeks) and the woman he is in love with but he is also trying to process all the memories from the Owl. He knows that they weren’t his actions but he has to deal with the memories inside his head and the knowledge that his body was used to hurt people. He is a whirlwind of pain, anger, grief, guilt and is at a loss at how to deal with it all; especially because in the past he has repressed emotions.

I love his moment with Izzy, she misses Clary too; she was her friend, her sister. She knows that Jace needs comfort and someone to share his grief with, but she also knows that she can’t understand the full extent of his grief. I think that her expressing these emotions with help Jace a lot, that someone is acknowledging his pain and effectively saying that everything he’s feeling is okay. The little kiss Jace bestows on her hand is so adorable, and I love seeing their bond more because we have had some wonderful moments between Alec and Jace or Izzy and Alec, but not so much between Izzy and Jace; so I really look forward to seeing more scenes between them and their sibling bond.

I absolutely love the scene between Magnus, Alec and Madzie; it is so cute, Alec reading to her and Magnus watching fondly. I also love that Madzie has come so far out of her shell since we first met her in 205, she has become much more outgoing with the support of Catarina, Magnus and Alec.

I feel for Magnus when he cannot create a nightlight, you can feel not only his sense of loss for not being able to perform magic but also at not being able to do it for Madzie. But he is so proud of her when she creates her own, you can see his love for her and their goodnight exchange is so sweet. My whole heart is bursting at the adorableness of this scene.

Alec is once again expressing his support for Magnus adjusting to his new reality, validating his feelings and making sure Magnus knows that he is there to support him. I giggled so much at Alec’s expression when Magnus refuses to kiss him because of Madzie, he is so put out at not being able to kiss his boyfriend. It really shows how far he has come in that he feels so comfortable using the word boyfriend and that he hates being denied kisses; when in Season 1 he couldn’t comfortably occupy the same space or the same sofa with Magnus.

Then I outright laughed at Magnus’ line ‘Oh, you know how we get.’ Implying that they easily get carried away when kissing, it’s so funny (as is Alec’s reaction) but also hints at the passion they have for each other which I love.

Unfortunately, Iris interrupts their cosy night in plans by trying to take Madzie; what I really like is that despite the fact that Iris had raised Madzie she does not want to leave with her, telling her ‘Nana, no’. This shows that Madzie is happy with Catarina (plus Magnus and Alec) and that given the choice she would choose her new guardian; she has this new support system of people who love and support her whereas before she really only had Iris.

My heart clenches when Magnus throws out his hand and nothing happens, you can see the confusion change into disbelief, realisation and then defeat at not being able to defend Madzie. She runs straight to him, clearly feeling safe with him powers or no powers, but Magnus is clearly devastated at feeling helpless and failing in protecting her.

In planning to find Iris Alec wants Magnus to stay behind, he has just seen the reality of Magnus losing his powers; him not being able to defend himself. Alec is afraid of Magnus getting hurt, especially because they know how ruthless Iris is and that she will do anything to get Madzie back. But Magnus refuses to stay behind; he is not willing to stay on the sidelines and is prepared to do whatever it takes to protect Madzie. Alec relents because he knows that if he was in Magnus’ position he wouldn’t stay behind either, they are so similar in that respect; when it comes to protecting the people they love they will do whatever it takes no matter the risk to themselves.

I like that Alec makes the point of telling Jace that he is acting irresponsibly; so many people made sacrifices to save him from Lilith, Magnus lost his magic, Luke and Simon risked their lives (not to mention Izzy and Alec risking their lives, and Alec the Parabatai bond, in 308). It would be disrespectful to them to throw away his life after everything; plus Clary would not want him to do this to himself and using his grief for as an excuse to hurt himself is a disgrace to her memory.

I know that some people didn’t like how Alec handled this scene and that he should have been easier on him; but I think that Alec handled it perfectly. Jace needed someone to tell him the truth, not to sugar coat it, he needed a firm hand to snap him out of his rut. In addition, Alec cannot just act as a brother but also as a leader, as the Head of the Institute, he cannot allow an emotional and reckless person into the field especially when they are showing self harming tendencies. He knows that for his health Jace needs to take a break to process.

Plus, Izzy has already reached out with comfort and I don’t think Jace would have responded to it from Alec at that point. I like that the two scenes also sort of reflect Izzy and Alec’s relationships with Clary. For Izzy, she was always there to comfort, support and love Clary; they had a very close friendship. But with Alec, his relationship with Clary was more reluctant siblings; but their bond was always based on honesty, even if it was brutal.

Izzy tells Maia about what happened with Heidi, it is understandable that Maia didn’t know about this because it’s not something Simon would have felt comfortable talking about, especially so soon after. Again, this was a scene that divided opinions for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, I don’t think Izzy was accusing her when she commented on Maia not being here; I think that she was simply stating that she could not have known the entire situation because she wasn’t there to witness and live through it. This situation was always going to be difficult and awkward because I think that they understand that Maia needed space to be by herself and process her own things but she didn’t live through what happened.

Secondly, the slight contradiction of Izzy saying she has needed to be alone but that she is the sort of person who needs to be around other people, like Simon. I know that some people felt that it was more about further pushing Simon and Izzy together by giving them things in common rather than it being true for Izzy. However, while it is a little contradicting I think that Izzy does and has felt both.

When she was going through her addiction she needed that space for herself in the beginning but she began dealing with her recovery with Alec, she was able to recover better when she was surrounded by people she loved. Just because she has felt the need to be alone, and has sometimes acted on those feelings, doesn’t mean that when things get difficult she deals with it best when surrounded by people she cares about.

I need more Izzy, Alec and Magnus going on missions together; I just need more Izzy and Magnus scenes full stop. They always have such wonderful little interactions that I really want them to have a more in depth scene together. I love Magnus with a sword, and the holster he is wearing is gorgeous; I love how he deflected Iris’ attacks with it.

Jonathan and Clary have a conversation about how being raised influences who you become; Clary, raised by Jocelyn, has a strong moral compass and is generally a well balanced person; Jace, raised by Valentine, is a good person but he has some difficulty with emotion and the prejudices he was raised with (those Valentine instilled about Downworlders, I’m referring to Season 2 when under trail of the Soul Sword he said ‘yes and no’ when asked about believing in Valentine’s quest to eradicate the Downworld); Jonathan, raised by Valentine and Lilith, is emotionally stunted and has a very skewed moral compass.

When you look at how he was raised and what he has been through you can understand why he has difficultly showing emotion appropriately, issues with anger and a desperate yearning for love but not really knowing how to get it. I read that Luke actually worked with a profiler to help construct a profile for a real person who would have experienced the kind of traumas Jonathan went though. I think that this is brilliant because it helps you get a better understanding of a person and gives real world context; it also shows his dedication to portraying him authentically.

Luke is breaking my heart, his desperation and hope is clear in his wall of clues, his demeanour and his stuttering when rushing around to show Jace his work. He seems to be in complete denial over Clary’s death, has been working for three days straight to put together all these little clues on the small hope that his daughter is still alive. He loves her so entirely and he is not ready to let her go easily especially so soon after losing Jocelyn.

I’m a little sad to learn that we won’t be seeing Ollie and Sam again as they have been relocated, but it is understandable character wise. But Luke being so separate from the pack, and later leaving to find Clary, is going to cause a real strain on his relationship with the pack and is going to put his status as Alpha under threat.

We get a small glimpse into Magnus’ past when Iris infiltrates his memories; there is so much pain in them that it breaks your heart, moments from his childhood with blood on his hands are interesting because did they happen while he was with Asmodeus? I love that when he thinks of Alec and the Omamori charm it effectively kicks Iris out of his head, Alec said it would protect him and it did. I really hope that we continue to explore Magnus past.

Alec feels guilty about Magnus being taken because he didn’t insist on Magnus staying behind, what he feared has happened. He is scared because he knows how ruthless Iris is and that she is probably hurting Magnus right now but there is nothing he can do.

We find out that Raphael has taken up residence in Detroit and he seems to be genuinely remorseful for not only his direct actions but Heidi’s actions too; he feels responsible for all the hurt she has caused because he is the one was made sure she turned. I in no way excuse what he did, it was terrible and cruel, but he does appear to want to make any amends that he can to start to repair all the hurt he has caused. I would really like to see him apologise to Magnus for lying to him because we know that have an extremely close bond and we all felt betrayed when he lied to him, especially involving his sister.

Is it just me that finds it a little hilarious that the oldest vampire in New York, possibly the world, lives in the sewers? I get the need to hide away from other but surely there’s a more comfortable place? I guess we’ll find out in 312.

The second round of Magnus’ memories really hurts because they are all about his losing people he loved; the necklace he gave Camille, George, Alec in 2B and his mother. I also find the order of the memories interesting, are they in the order that hurt the most? I wonder if this was intentional or if they were just randomly put together.

This time he uses the memory of defeating Iris in 208 to kick her out of his head; I admire him so much in this scene because despite how much pain he is in he refuses to give up and is determined to keep Madzie safe. When Iris gets the note from Catarina he does appear genuinely worried but I think that he doesn’t completely realise it’s a trap because he is confused and in pain from what Iris was doing to him; if he was thinking straight I think that he would have know right away, but you can’t blame him for being disorientated. Plus being faced with the possibility of Madzie going back to Iris, which he has endured so much pain to prevent, would feel devastating.

Of course it’s a trap, Izzy being a complete badass rescuing her brother in law. While I did find it a little out of character for Magnus to seem to go after Iris after she’s been restrained I think that it was because he was in pain, angry and feeling humiliated; all that emotion was directed at Iris and he wanted to lash out.

Alec holds him back and they have a sweet little reunion moment; Magnus’ desperation to make Alec understand that he did everything he could to protect Madzie is heart breaking because he feels the need stress that he tried to protect her. Alec is just relieved he is back and knows that Magnus would have done everything in his power to prevent Iris finding Madzie, that was never in question.

Iris is taken back to the Gard, now I do feel that this storyline was a little rushed but I also understand why. There is going to be a lot happening in the coming episodes so they really needed to get this out of the way beforehand; if they hadn’t have gotten Iris out of the way now we would have questioned where she was and why she hadn’t come for Madzie in later episodes.

I am so happy that Consul Penhallow pardons Clary of her crimes and you can see the relief from Alec, it is going to mean so much to everyone that her memory isn’t burdened by those charges. However, she is not a fan of Alec’s which is slightly understandable but not justified; which is clearly felt in Alicante. When Izzy brings up the torture of prisoners the Consul denies it, but there is a hesitation and definitely something off about her demeanour; this storyline is definitely going to be very interesting.

We see the Seelie that they captured being restrained by unknown individuals, he remarks that it isn’t the Gard; it makes you wonder if they have taken him somewhere separate because of what he told Izzy and they are worried. But what the fuck are they doing to him? I have no idea what they are injecting him with but the way his body reacts reminds me of Luke from the Freeform trailer, he also had glowing veins and eyes which makes me extremely scared.

The speculations of Luke becoming a Shadowhunters again did make me wonder if the Clave are testing way of purifying demon blood as a way of getting rid of Downworlders? Instead of killing them, they turn them into mundanes? This may be completely wrong but it was just a thought that I had when connecting the Seelie with Luke and those rumours.

Alec is so proud of Magnus for being able to withstand Iris and keep Madzie safe; he knows that it must have been so difficult for Magnus to partially relive those memories (parallel to 212 anyone? Ouch). But Magnus feels ashamed that he wasn’t able to stop her directly and got injured because he wasn’t able to defend himself against her attack. He isn’t used to being physically vulnerable; it is frustrating and makes him feel more vulnerable than he has in long time.

Alec doesn’t allow Magnus to avoid the conversation and follows him around the room, he won’t let Magnus shut him out or believe that he is useless; he knows that Magnus is so full of inner strength and power, he needs to make Magnus understands and sees that as Alec does. You can see that Magnus is grateful and touched that Alec sees him that way and that kiss is wonderful, plus we finally get to see it in a wide shot; we see them embracing each other, Magnus’ hand on Alec’s waist and them moving into each other. It’s such wonderful soft intimacy that I just wish they had better lighting, it is very annoying that time and again their kisses are ruined because we can’t see them properly. Get an extra lamp in there for angels’ sake.

When Magnus pulls away you can see Alec’s face fall, he wants to be able to comfort Magnus and is trying everything he can; from verbal comfort to physical comfort. He keeps questioning Magnus to get to the route of Magnus’ emotions, he wants him to open up and stop bottling up his emotions. He knows that getting them out in the open will make him feel better, plus Alec may be able to understand better and even help.

Magnus feels humiliated because he is so used to being the caretaker that it is a complete reversal to have people take care of him; he has always been so self sufficient that it is an alien feeling to rely on others so heavily. He doesn’t want to feel like a burden to anyone. I adore Alec, ‘You’ve been taking care of others your whole life. Sometimes it’s okay to let others take care of you’. He understands that feeling because he also used to refuse to let people help him but he knows that it’s better to take help when you need it and to let people be there for you. Again, this shows how much Alec has grown that not only does he allow other people to help him and rely on them, but he is advising Magnus to do the same and wants to be the one he leans on.

Magnus is determined to hone his fighting skills so that he can protect himself better because while he can fight he is so used to relying on his magic that he needs to retrain his body to defend himself without it. Alec, of course, offers and I love the flirty way he says it and the flirty vibe they both move into; plus I love Alec’s little accent slip ‘So, what d’ya say I help ya out’, definitely more New York than his usual voice. I am so excited for the training scene next week, we’re not going to survive.

While Simon and Izzy try to find the vampire in the sewers Maia is going to check in with the pack; she knows that Luke is going to be struggling right now and after being away for about a week she wants to see how they are. The whole scene feels a little awkward and stilted, like they don’t know how to be around each other. Even though they reassure each other they will always be there for the other there definitely seems to be a disconnect. Apart from their initial hug they haven’t really touched each other, even casually; you can see that a rift has definitely formed in their romantic relationship.

Clary, in a bid to escape, stabs Jonathan in the jaw; unfortunately she inherits the wound. This is the absolutely confirmation that when Jonathan is injured Clary will get the same injury, it is yet to be seen if the reverse is true; if Clary is injured will Jonathan inherit it? You can see the horror on her face when realising that they are so intrinsically connected, that it is not going to be as easy to get rid of him this time around.

I have a lot of questions about steles though, when I first saw the scene I presumed he was using Clary’s stele but it actually looks like Alec’s. Is that the generic stele style? Are there a few different styles and all Shadowhunters just have one of the few designs? Because Alec, Izzy, Clary and Jace’s stele’s all look different.

Plus, where did he get it? Did Lilith acquire it? Did the Owl steal it? Where is Clary’s stele? Does Jonathan have it (I presume he does)?

So, to sum up, yes the episode was a little rushed but that it completely understandable with the amount of characters we had to catch up with in such a short amount of time. I think it was a great episode, with emotional scenes but also some very sweet moments. Definitely a fantastic start to 3B.

In 312, Morgenstern siblings in Paris, Clace reunite (hopefully Luke and Clary too), Sizzy on a mission and the long awaited (a whole freaking year) Malec training scene. I am screaming!

[jbuffyangel]

Exhausted: This Is Us 3x05 Review (Toby)

This Is Us focuses on the Pearsons’ significant others in “Toby.” It’s an extremely packed episode, which probably means they need to focus on the supporting characters more frequently. There is a connective thread with Toby, Beth and Miguel, beyond just being married to Pearsons, finally being explored, which I am excited about. They each carry their spouses to the point of exhaustion.

Let’s dig in...

Toby and Kate

Chris Sullivan carries this episode on those big, broad shoulders and gives us a side of Toby we haven’t seen. At his core, Toby is caretaker and in that way reminds me of my husband who is also just as amazing.  But there are times I want to ask Toby, “Aren’t you exhausted? I am a glass half full, rainbows and unicorns type person, but even I cannot compete with Toby’s energy, positivity and enthusiasm. Toby is always on. He’s almost superhuman in that way.

Well, it turns out Toby is not superhuman and yes, he is exhausted. We see flashbacks of Baby Toby, who is the very definition of the cutest, and we learn Toby’s sadness has always been part of him. In fact, he’s very similar to his mother. Is depression genetic? If yes, then I didn’t know that. 

Anywho, Toby’s mother is overwhelmed with a new baby and fighting constantly with his jerk of a father.

“There’s so much of her in you it scares me.”

THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR CHILD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Unfortunately, Toby’s father does not view depression as a medical ailment and simply advises his son to get his “mopey” attitude under control because it won’t play well as an adult. What a prize this guy is.

Toby used his wonderful sense of humor to cheer up his depressed Mom as a child. Ugh my heart. As for Toby’s mother, just speaking from experience, sometimes you really just need “one damn day.” You’re doing great, sweetie.

Toby’s last live in girlfriend wasn’t able to handle his moods and she left him, which sent Toby spiraling deeper in his depression. Eventually, he started seeing a therapist, started taking meds and then he met Kate.

I would classify Kate the same as me – high maintenance. This works well with someone who gravitates more towards the caretaker role. But the focus needs to shift time to time, so your partner doesn’t feel short changed.

Toby spends a great deal of time cheering Kate up, cheering Kate on, and being her “rock” as she earnestly put it. However, Toby’s need to be Kate’s hero has led him down a disastrous plan of going off his meds. The sadness is coming back and Toby doesn’t know what to do other than pretend it’s not happening.

However, once Kate announces she’s pregnant (YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FINALLY SOME GOOD NEWS FOR THESE TWO), Toby’s rock wall of positivity and joy goes tumbling down. He sobs into wife’s arms. 

Letting go and succumbing to the depression isn’t weakness. It’s strength. Sometimes you need to drown before you can swim.  Sometimes you need to go deep into the hole before you can figure your way out.

It’s also a hugely important moment in Kate and Toby’s marriage. I always say marriage is not 50/50. Sometimes it’s 90/10 or 40/60. What you and your partner need day to day and year to year shifts. 

I think it’s fair to say though Toby has been carrying his share of emotional burdens. Toby can’t be sad because Kate is. Toby can’t worry because it’ll make Kate worry more. Toby can’t be angry because Kate is lashing out from pain and grief, so he just has to take it. It goes on and on and on, which is why I wanted to ask Toby, “Aren’t you exhausted?”

This isn’t Kate’s fault either. We can only know what our partner shares with us. Toby kept Kate out. He wanted to be the rock and she needed a rock. It was a mutually beneficial relationship until it wasn’t. That’s marriage. You have to grow and evolve with your partner.

Now it’s about what Toby needs. Toby needs to know he doesn’t have to be in control all the time. He needs to know Kate isn’t going to leave him when the sadness comes. Toby needs to let Kate all the way in. It’s her turn to be the rock.

Randall and Beth

I love you Randall. You are a deeply good human being. You are a blessing to all the lives you touch, but sometimes my friend, you leap before you look.

Randall and Beth are preparing for his first campaign event and my first thought was...

Beth just lost her job. Maybe this isn’t the best time to be piling on. Are they independently wealthy? That house is huge and it must come with a serious mortgage. Do they not have bills to pay? Everyone seems very calm about the whole no income situation. I would not be this calm. Then again, maybe Randall listens to Suze Orman and has 12 months of savings.

Side bar: Every time my husband and I saved whatever monthly sum Suze Orman said we needed she would then add another three months. For example, we’d save 3 months and she’d say save 6 months. We’d save 6 and she’d say 9. And so on. It made my husband very cranky and now I’m not allowed to watch Suze Orman because he says she turns me into a crazy person. End side bar.

Unfortunately, Randall just dives right in and tells the people who came for free barbecue all the ways they are wrong about their current council man. He has a bit of a faceoff with the restaurant owner who explains the current councilman saved his business years ago. People don’t owe him loyalty. They owe him their lives.

Yeesh. Yeah, probably should have put some quiet feelers out there Randall. Maybe a poll Jed Bartlet style. I don’t know what this means for Randall’s future as city councilman, but he’s not off to a great start.

What I really want to talk about is BETH. My queen is not doing great. She is putting up a good show of confidence in front of Randall about interviewing for new jobs and fielding six figure offers. 

Source: livelovecaliforniadreams

However, she broke down crying in an interview. She’s not expecting a call back and Beth is right.

What’s sad is Beth doesn’t feel like she can share this with Randall. She constantly has to be on like Toby. Beth is so busy nurturing Randall’s dreams and easing his anxiety there’s very left over for her – both in the relationship and within herself.

Of course she broke down in an interview! Beth honey you were fired from the business you helped build. Grab some booze and take a week off girl. You need it.

But Beth can’t do that. She has to support her family. If she’s worried then it means Randall will worry more. And on and on and on it goes.

Miguel and Rebecca

Poor Miguel. I think he’s been given a bad rap. He’s trying to so hard to be there for the kids and Rebecca, but he’s not trying to take Jack’s place. That’s impossible. He’s simply trying to keep his promise to Jack. 

Source: @livelovecaliforniadreams

There are people who are such a force in our life that it's difficult to imagine them ever dying. It's impossible in fact.

It’s an exhaustive effort from Miguel. Literally. He carries a piano upstairs and spends the better part of the day fixing Rebecca’s refrigerator. Then he gives a pep talk to Randall (which is not well well received) and lets drunk Kevin crash at his place. This was just one day. I’m sure it makes Miguel feel for Rebecca on a whole other level.

I understand the kid’s reservations to Miguel. Their guard is up. They are protective of their father and the hole his passing has put in the family. But I’m fond of Miguel for the same reason the Pearson children are guarded around him - he is not biological and he reminds me of my grandmother. 

My mother’s mom died when she was 19. Her father (my grandpa) eventually remarried. My mother liked her step mother and even grew to love her, but the day my sister was born my father had a tough conversation with my mom. He said, “I know this is going to be hard to hear, but Jeanne will be the only grandmother our children will ever know. So, I think you need to think seriously about the kids calling her Grandma.” My father’s mother was also gone by this time. 

My mom said it was hard to hear, but she knew her step mother would be an amazing grandmother. And she was. My Grandma Jeanne wasn’t my biological grandmother, but she was the only one I had and she was truly wonderful. I like to think she was a gift my Grandma Noella and Grandma Sara sent to us.

So, when I look at Miguel I think what a gift he is to the Pearson family. And it’s what Jack thought as well. It’s why he asked Miguel to look after his family.

Kevin and Zoe

This is a safe space. I am going to raise my stupid white person hand and say I too did not know what the pillowcase was for. So, thank you Kevin Pearson. Your ignorance illuminated my ignorance and I learned something! 

The scenes between Kevin and Don Robinson, Jack’s army buddy, are truly wonderful. 

Source: livelovecaliforniadreams

There’s so much pride in Robinson’s voice as he reveals the truth to Kevin. Jack hid this piece of his life for a good reason, but there is so much to be proud of as well. It’s really a defining moment in the series, where Kevin realizes how much of a hero his father was and how little he really knows about his time in Vietnam.

I was kind of scratching my head when Robinson said Jack never wrote him back. Does that sound like Jack Pearson thing to do? I shrugged it off though and just chalked it up to Jack trying to leave the war behind like Don said. But then, he finds Kevin and gives him the letters. Robinson had to measure the promises he made to Jack versus the wishes of his son. Not an easy decision, but I think he made the right one. Those letters are going to be illuminating.

Source:  wondersprince

As for the photograph and the woman with the necklace, the same necklace Kevin wears with his father’s dog tags, I’m not sure what it means. Obviously, this person is incredibly important to Jack or else he wouldn’t have kept the necklace for all these years. Could it have been romantic? Sure. If it was does it mean Rebecca wasn’t Jack’s true love? No, not at all.

Keep in mind Vietnam was pre-Rebecca. Jack was pretty clear when he met Rebecca he knew immediately she was “The one.” However, we love many  people in our life. It’s okay to carry pieces of them with you, which is what I think Jack has done. He kept a piece of this woman with him, just like he kept a piece of Don Robinson with him when he place his hands on his children's’ faces and said, “Breathe.”

Stray Thoughts

I think Randall’s dual culture upbringing is strength. He is a black man who was raised in white culture. I think it gives him unique perspective and he belongs in both worlds. It’s not an either or. Maybe this makes me naive but it’s what I think.

Holy crap is this how in vitro really works? It’s so friggin expensive and the success rate is so low! Wow. Sending snuggles to everyone who has every struggled with infertility. You are not alone.

Randall unbuttoning his shirt is all the reason I need to vote for him. Done deal.

Randall: All his lemonade froze Beth.

Beth: Yeah but he was stupid baby.

I love everything about them. I ship it like Fed Ex.

Three hours to get ready Kate? Just as an FYI - that’s all over when you have a baby. You’ll be lucky to get a shower.

Nobody had fun at prom? Man, can teen Pearsons catch a break at some point?

A+ on the prom dresses. Absolutely what I wore in high school. We were slaves to fashion in the late nineties. ;)

I’m super confused. So, Randall’s date wouldn’t go to prom with him because her dad is a racist asshole? How does that work? You are in the dress. The hair is done. Randall Pearson is looking gorgeous in a tux and has a corsage ready to go. You tell dad to go to hell and get in the damn limo kid. Where is her mother in all of this??? What is wrong with people????

Kate’s impression of Adele is dead on.

Rebecca is such an amazing mom. Kate doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Interview with the Writer #2

Hello lovely people,

welcome to my second episode of Interview with a Writer. 

Apparently there are others who enjoy talking about writing. 

Today we want to shed a little light on @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse who is one of my favorite writers on tumblr and someone I look up to when it comes to writing, planning and other things.

Please welcome her warmly.

As you can see in her name, the blog is manly a star trek blog, but don’t despair if you’re not a die hard trekkie, because you can find a lot of other treasures too.

Just take a look at her Masterlist . You will find Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy and even Supernatural (even though I don’t know that fandom) and I’ve also seen some Top Gun, Agents of Shield and all the tiny little fandoms Karl Urban has stumbled into during his acting career. 

Q: Did I sum up your blog right, dear or do you have something else to add? Please correct me if I’m wrong, this is your chance to compliment yourself.

Oh my god, Wow. I’m still so incredible floored when someone says I’m one of their favourites. Uh, yeah, that sounds about right. I actually started writing fanfic (well, fanfic for public consumption) in the Marvel universe. I think you’ve got me covered - essentially, it’s a whole ‘oooh, he’s pretty’ kind of fanfic world over here.

Q: Now I know your writing is very diverse. I’d like to dive deeper into my favorite fics in another interview (if you’re up to that) but for now, your writing style: I’m amazed by it. I’ve bought and borrowed a lot of books in my life so far and I can tell you that it’s a rare thing to pick up a book which writing style catches you and won’t let you go until you’re done. You write like that. Captivating, humorous and with a lot of empathy. You hint at things that happen (or not), make me believe something only to make me see that I’ve been a fool. And, something that is very very very important to me: You make me want to read it again. There are a lot of your things that I go back and read again, just because I know how I will feel at ease in your stories…. but I’m rambling…. 

The Question I have for you: What makes your writing style different? What do you see in other stories that you’d like to be able to write and what are things that you don’t shed a light on? I, for example, struggle with dialogues and just don’t write about smut. What about you?

First off - sure, we can totally go into specifics on your favourites sometime!

What makes my writing different? Facetiously, I’d like to say it’s because I’m old. But the honest truth is that is probably actually true. I always wanted to be a writer, which means I started writing when I was about 9 or 10. I wrote my first ‘novel’ at 11. I filled countless notebooks full of stories as I grew up, and honestly, never stopped. I also took as many university creative writing courses as I could get away with, sucking up as much as I could from each writer that taught me. And I read a lot, and when I really love what I’m reading, I will go back and read it again, simply to dissect what it was that resonated with me. I used to struggle with description. So it was something I spent a lot of time working on - telling a story about communication between two people without allowing any dialogue. Forcing myself to show and not tell a story. When I felt that I was competent with that, I allowed myself to start allowing dialogue in again. Dialogue has always come easy for me. I wish that description came as easy. 

As for my HUGEST discomfort? I seriously sit and blush the entire time I write smut. You’d think for a woman with two kids and never mind how many partners in the past, I wouldn’t be so awkward about it, but it never gets any easier. 

Q: Thank you. Now, there’s something else I want to ask. Your stories have that feel to it that when I read the first word of the first chapter, the end is already decided. Are you really that good at planning? What is your trick to that? Do you only write if you know what’s going to happen?

Sometimes! Sometimes I start and I know exactly how many plot points there are, what the conflict is, where the climax will happen (uh, no pun intended). Other times I go off on my own merry path, uncertain what will happen. For example: Always On My Mind (Gavin) - I know EXACTLY what is going to happen next, I know what happens after that, and I know how it ends. On the flip side, Lead Me On got away on me and the characters switched gears and I have no idea what the fuck is going on there now.

Q: Now I know that you’re a hardworking woman and I also know that you have children, am I right?

I do. I have two kids - an 11-year-old girl and a 4-year-old boy. The boy’s birthday is in 2 months! We just did kindergarten orientation today!!! And my girl just had her first period. So she’s not my baby anymore. Gah. It makes me feel so old. I also work full-time as a nurse, am the seneschal (president) of our local SCA branch, and have just been appointed Bethel Guardian of my daughter’s Job’s Daughters group.

Q: Well, how do you do it? How do you make time to write this much? Or do you just write really really fast? Or very very slow and there’s a giant databank from where you pull your old stories? 

Both? My Five Minute Ficlets started as a desperate attempt to squeeze a quick drabble out. I usually write them when I’m waiting in the car somewhere, or watching a kid’s activity that doesn’t require my full attention, or on my breaks at work. Which is why they vary in length so much. The average FMF actually takes 20-25 minutes, if I am truthful about it - but that doesn’t sound as enticing as Five Minute Ficlet, does it? Imagines are something else - I used to carry a 5-10 request waitlist but that got overwhelming to the point of anxiety attacks, so I don’t often take requests anymore. Technically my inbox is always open to them, but your mileage may vary, depending on whether inspiration strikes. Any of my fics with an OC are from back ‘back catalog’ - I used to post everything on FFN, although I recently pulled down everything from there. And it’s still up on AO3. So the Marvel stuff is older - none of it is older than my boychild though - I started writing again when I was on bedrest during my pregnancy.

Q: Where do you get your ideas? Do you have to look for inspirations, prompts, plots and other little bunnies or are you the type of person who puts her feet on the ground in the morning and has a mind filled with ideas?

Again, I think the answer is both. I don’t necessarily wake up with a mind full of ideas, but I pull inspiration from every day life. I can almost guarantee that every story with a nurse character in it is drawing from personal career experience. Some of the more embarrassing experiences some of my characters have had occur are that much more vivid because I have lived through them myself. And other things come up because I love the absurd - I think you need to be able to imagine the ridiculous as well as the sublime to actually truly capture realistic characters. And so I will sometimes play with the characters in my head just to see what silliness will occur.

Q: Do you have any other secret to share? About writing, your favorite character of all fandoms ever or just a wish for more (or less) requests? 

I wish my followers understood how important this blog has been to my grieving and healing process. Something I’ve learned in the last couple of years is that I really pull back when I am hurting. I didn’t really get that before my Mum died, but I was sitting in my living room the other day, thinking about how lonely I am for social contact - I have my kids, and the manthing, and I have the girls at work, but when I was at my lowest after Mum passed, I pushed my closest friends away because I... I don’t really know why? Because I am ashamed of my grief? That sounds really stupid, but I suspect that might be it. Anyhow, I pushed a lot of my really close friends away, and bless them all, they were good friends because they just let me, and now that I’m functioning again, they are right where they’ve always been, just waiting for me to be a ready participant in our relationships again. But I have been lonely, and this blog has been my support. This blog is where I wrote out the tears. This is where I made friends that didn’t have to see me ugly cry, which was somehow less embarrassing. So I think that’s my big secret. That my followers have helped me make it through the past few years. From June of 2015, to November of 2016, to now.

My favourite character of all time? Thor. I just... I don’t write him well, but that might be because I like to keep him to myself. 

Finally - My inbox is always open. I love receiving random commentary. Tell me about your tuesday, or tell me about biology exams, or what you’re eating for dinner. I’m into that. Bug me for head canons. I love that shit. Ask me what I thought of Kevin Smith (he was SO cool) or Karl Urban (smelled amazing) or Nichelle Nichols or Sean Astin. Tell me I’m an obnoxious whore (you won’t be the first, won’t be the last, and I guarantee I’ve probably been called worse by better... :D). I seriously love hearing from my followers. Those interactions are precious to me.

Thanks dear. Time’s running out and we’re thanking you for this chance to get to know you and your writing a little bit better.

Well thanks for asking me to do this. I feel like a real live legit writer now :D

Have a very nice writing time.

This weekend I’m off to a medieval event. When I inevitably need time away from people because I’ve become more easily overwhelmed my crowds, I will try to come up with something good :D

Thanks, @dirajunara-archive, for inviting me to do this! <3