Ironically enough…

…(and I just used the word “ironically” incorrectly)…

Ironically enough, as much as Tumblr is focused on “Random Stupid Shit,” I still feel obligated, now, to cease doing that over there on my Tumblr blog. It’s a new year, and I’ve done that since March.

Over here on WordPress, however, I still feel like I can do what-the-fuck-ever. So here’s a story…

Once upon a time, there was a queen…
























Okay, I guess she feels it’s unnecessary to describe her.  Anyway, she lived in a castle…










And Eris couldn’t find a picture of a castle so let’s pretend she lived in Dalaran.

Anyway, this beautiful queen couldn’t get anyone to come to her parties because they were kinda afraid she’d murder them.









So she was all like, “What did I do wrong? I only killed 10,000 people. I swear that’s it (for now).”

Everyone in the court was like, “Fuck, we gotta get some guests for this party before we lose our heads too.”










They weren’t quite sure what to do about it, though.







“Can we really just force people to come? By law?”









They decided to ask the Queen’s ex-girlfriend what to do.

The Ex was no help.








“Really? After she firebombed that whole city? Who will come to the party? Aren’t they all dead already?”







“It’s up to you,” they said. “You distract her while we think of a plan.”








“By distract,” the Queen’s ex-girlfriend said, “Do you mean have sex with?”









Meanwhile, the Queen was like…








but tried to give Emma an equally amazing orgasm and she was like…









Her ex-boyfriend was peeking in the window all like…










The Queen’s advisor was like











“Okay okay, listen up. We considered having some kind of party gift for every guest.”

And so the Queen’s advisor started naming shit like…








The ex-boyfriend shot that idea down, all like…













“What about a panda cub for every guest?”











“Aren’t those going extinct?” he asked.






Meanwhile, in the boudoir, stuff like this was going on:










And things like this:












It was decided that the only reasonable path to a successful outcome would be…


Word went out throughout the kingdoms that there would be the kegger to end all keggers at the Queen’s castle that night.













Even Maleficent was all like…












This required obtaining some, however.












Facebook check-in’s were flying back with, “We’ll give it a shot,” and “We’re taking our best wizards with us just in case and our fire proof underwear,” and “It better be fucking open bar and not BYOB…”

The Queen’s court was relieved but also in even more urgent trouble. Not only would the Queen be mad if things went south, but so would the people from all over the land (or rather, all the neighboring kings within driving distance).

“Where are we going to get enough food and drinks to cater a ball like this?”











“We’ll go get you some and be right back!”










But then it didn’t work…












“WAIT! I know another guy who could help us…” one of the kitchen staff.












The others laughed at her and at the ex-boyfriend.

“If we can’t get a lift to the store in his stupid hat, what makes you think we can get help from an invisible ladder?”

Then a wild Doctor appeared.







“You need booze? That’s not really my department. I don’t really drink the stuff…”

“Oh, no!” cried the Queen’s advisor. “You were our last hope!”












“Please, Doctor! We just don’t want to lose our heads…”








“I’m just fucking with ya,” the Doctor said. “I have a time machine that’s bigger on the inside. I will get us the liquor and food you need before the guests arrive.”












The Queen’s advisor was all like…












The girl from the kitchen was all like…







Off the TARDIS went to prepare the festivities















The court started drinking early for courage












But the ex-boyfriend heard the Queen coming back down from her sexins with her now-girlfriend-again








“You fools,” he said, sexily.








“I just got laid,” the Queen said. “And I’m in love.”








Her girlfriend wasn’t really sure what to say about that…











The Doctor returned with a bunch of bewildered guests and surprised the Queen enough for all to resolved later, however…









There would be no murders that night. Everybody was having too good a time.






















Except the Queen’s advisor, who was still all like…











And  the Doctor was all like…

“Peace out, yo.”










And Eris was like








and went to bed.




You took me on a date to Ankh-Morpork? Are you fucking kidding me?

So last night I jumped from writing a fanfic about Jefferson’s late wife, to writing it about sneaking around cheating on King Leopold, to writing about oral sexy tiems, to writing about Regina wanting to go in the hat, to re-writing my scenario where Jefferson takes her to the Discworld. (Wut.)









It’s more amusing to me with GIFs, and it’s a shame I don’t save Regina ones and just re-blog them like a good Tumblr kid.

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or Discworld, nor the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

…Regina sucked in a breath – she felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her – and opened her eyes. Disoriented, she squinted into the dark. She stood inside a large, circular chamber lit by no visible source, its walls covered in doors. Each was the same height, same dimensions, but with a wide variety of styles, materials and elaborate ornamentation.

Regina looked up and perceived there was a ceiling but saw none.

She felt embarrassed at her lack of knowledge and at how much she took Jefferson for granted.

“It’s magnificent.”

Jefferson shrugged. No hat in his hands, Regina reached the conclusion that they were inside it. The portal jumper turned, examining each door, reminding himself which worlds he had access to and recalling the ones to which he was still welcome.

“Take your pick, Regina.”

The sorceress headed for a mirror that looked strangely familiar and left an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She felt Jefferson’s hand on her shoulder, stopping her abruptly. Instinctively, she turned on him, right hand glowing. (She had to stop doing that.)

“What is it?”

“That is Wonderland, and I highly recommended we never go there.”

“Scared?” Regina sneered.


“It’s just as well,” she said, gazing at her reflection. “It gives me a bad feeling.”

She blushed. Hid it and then gave him a haughty look.

“I fear none of the challenges these lands present me. We will pick the most interesting door and enter that one.”

She marched across the chamber, the usually confident Jefferson trailing her cautiously. Regina wasn’t sure which he feared more – what the natives would do to her, or what she would inflict upon them.

“What is this?” she said, touching a stone door engraved with a ludicrous tableau. It was not the most striking or beautiful, but it was an image of a giant turtle, four elephants astride it, a flat land balanced atop them with a continent, mountains and cascading waterfall. The door seemed to faintly glow purple and green, and she sensed the man behind her relax.

















“That is the Discworld. It is a safe enough place. Not very different from our own. If you seek adventure, it will not be found there.”

Regina turned around.

“And why do you say that?”

Jefferson scratched behind his ear. Crossed his arms.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Hatter.”

The portal jumper clapped his hands together and approached the door.

“You caught me. It’s just…last time I was there, the fabric of reality seemed a little…”

“A little what, Jefferson?”

“Thin.” Jefferson shook his head. “It’s not that I doubt we’d be safe, I’m just wondering if ripping more holes in the Discworld is wise.”







Regina looked confused.

“But you are not ripping a new hole. This is an already established portal to the realm.”

Jefferson still looked uncertain.

“You’re right. We have nothing to fear. Although the realm may still bore you.”

“We shall see,” she said. “Are you coming or not?”

Jefferson opened the door. An ordinary-looking, foul smelling city lay beyond the threshold.










The sorceress stepped through and no passing pedestrians noticed the door they emerged from had an echoing marble chamber of portals behind it. They exited the side door of a wooden building and stepped into a grungy alley. Jefferson shut the door behind them. Underneath a patina of grime, the same symbol – turtle, elephants, disc – was etched in the wood. A surprisingly easy way to find the way home.

“No one will enter it unknowingly, leaving us stranded?”

Jefferson re-opened the door and they peered into a busy kitchen. A cat hissed at them and fled. A large cook, apron covered in either sauce or blood, shot them a glare. Stoves bubbled and a pig roasted on a spit.

Regina held her tongue until they shut it before angrily whispering, “What have you done, Jefferson? Where have you stranded us?”

Jefferson rubbed her upper arm comfortingly. He touched the doorknob again, shutting his eyes and concentrating. He opened it a crack to allow Regina to see into the Portal of Doors.

“See? It’s fine. It is enchanted so you may only find it if you know it’s there.”

Regina pulled away and sighed in exasperation.

“Why could you not place it at the end of the alley like a normal magician?”

“The hat picked a scullery, not I. Come. Let’s explore this land and get back in time for tea.”

“I still don’t know why you think I will not enjoy myself here.”

“Well we’re not stealing anything and I am not letting you kill anyone…”

“I don’t require your permission. Besides, how could you stop me?”










“…so that leaves very little else to do. Except get a room and fuck?”








“Not a chance. The smell of this city is a turn off as it is.”

The pair walked down the street and wandered into a market. Regina felt a sort of static, a feeling like right before a lightning storm, and the air tasted like tin. She felt a tingle in her belly and his flippant offer of sex suddenly didn’t seem so repulsive.

“Can you feel that?” she asked, licking her lips.










Jefferson, with a familiar theatrical flourish, gestured above and pronounced, “Behold, Regina, the Unseen University!”










The sorceress looked up…

aaaaand Eris forgot to finish the rest of it because it was 2 a.m.

My ex is in town, and…

…I see him in a half hour and I am dreading it.

Navy Boy would loathe that I feel that way, considering we always had great love and affection for each other, ever since we were only 7 years old.

But he makes me feel the same way my older uncle does – inadequate.

Then again, they always have a point: I am wasting my life. Every hour that passes that I am not paying back my debt or contributing anything to society or forwarding my career or seeking out myself and my future. My best self. (My self that actually pays my bills and has no debt collectors knocking on the door.)

Last time I saw Navy, he thought I should quit my medication. Again. Ha! I was talking at length with the Bicyclist last night about bipolar (which, as The Musician told me, is a problem that requires a solution. It’s an explanation but not an excuse?) because we went to see Silver Lining Playbook, the romantic dramedy with Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper. Brad’s bipolar and it’s implied Jennifer is, and there was one scene that especially disturbed me and Bike had to put his arm around me. It didn’t really disturb anyone else in the theater – they knew the characters (Robert DeNiro and Bradley) would resolve the conflict civilly after this, which got very heated and physical (punching) – but it felt very familiar. Bradley becomes manic and very distressed trying to find he and his ex-wife’s wedding video, waking up his parents (DeNiro plays his father) and leading into a very heated confrontation where Bradley loses his shit. He accidentally hits his mother and so DeNiro punches him quite a few times. The shouting draws attention from the neighbors and police and for some reason this random dude with a video camera (did I mention it’s a dramedy?). Bradley – who had been in a psychiatric hospital serving an alternative sentence for a violent attack on his then-wife’s lover – hasn’t been taking his medication and it shows. Luckily the friendship of a good woman (Jennifer Lawrence) who is just as damaged, and a dance competition, and a football team, lead to Bradley’s recovery and a cheesy ending. (The pair fall in love in the book it’s adapted from, but their final scenes in the film are schmaltzy.) Anyway, when Bradley became manic, I turned to Bike and told him, “Now you know what it’s like in my world.” He hugged me and we got through the scene.

But like The Musician said last year – last Thanksgiving was my last major manic/mixed episode – it’s a problem, not an excuse. It requires a solution. That solution, my professors shrewdly told me (and my uncle, and Navy) was to move on with my life and do shit.

I wonder sometimes if it would be prudent of me to work for NAMI or something, even as a secretary, but considering it’s a nonprofit organization, money isn’t forthcoming for any employees any time soon, especially one with a film degree and NOT psychology. When I spoke on the phone this fall to that guy from the Massachusetts Cultural Council, he pointed out that I could get into arts advocacy, but not in his office. He had a tight team of ten, and had no plans on expanding. He apologized but told me good luck.

The chick at a TV network – my grandfather’s friend’s daughter – was sort of confused and amused, I’m sure, that I called her up and rambled at her about work and life and crap, but accepted an email of my resume (my production resume! oops) and lied she would get back to me.

The true connection would be my cousin (something removed) who I saw at the big family reunion and impressed with my singing voice. We are (/chuckles) Linkedin “friends,” but she said that of course, me being family, I could message her anytime about media work. (She’s in PR.)

But I quite intentionally crawled into my shell for an ENTIRE MONTH and let my obsessions with fictions consume me, which was still healthier than my delusions a year ago (in the midst of a genuine health emergency with my grandmother; the only reason they kept my grandfather’s health emergency from me, even though he was on death’s door, was probably to not freak me out; then again, they didn’t tell my older uncle either). Remarkably.

I’m supposed to see Navy in 15 minutes but I’m nervous and dreading it. I want to talk about food and movies and past memories, but then remember what he said to me at Christmas (?), about how worried he was about me. I HIT HIM. And he was stunned, and felt betrayed and offended. I half expected him to never forgive me. I thought of how The Kid would take it with a grain of salt, because he knew me this year, and how I would never, ever do such a thing to The Bicyclist. But I gripped my steering wheel… (it was this summer, wasn’t it? I don’t remember)…and the rage rose up in my belly that he would ever dare suggest I go backwards (as I’m doing right now; ha!) and go off meds. Since it was a disaster every. single. time.

But I have no excuse. I take the correct dose every day, and the only reason I’m miserable is because I am secluded and sedentary and make no effort to contribute fucking ANYTHING to this household.

Ugh, I need to go pick him up. /sigh

That’s why I enjoy my brief obsessions. Every obsession of mine passes, eventually. Sort of. Mostly. Considering Once Upon a Time isn’t even a particularly good show or piece of art, it still raises so many (quite fucking dark) questions that fairy tales always tend to do, (and that Lost did), that it’s still a worthwhile endeavor (in moderation!!) to deconstruct (?) it and give it some thought. Dumb. This all started because I wanted to make pretty people make out.


The problem with fanfiction (story time!)

Wrote this fanfic, sort of, in my notebook during my brief break from the Internet. I made my relatives hide my Internet-accessible devices for 24 hours, for the duration of Thanksgiving, so I once again grabbed a notebook and started writing.

But I wrote fluff, and writing (/sigh) fluff about Regina is really strange, to me. I imagine Regina in the following fluffy situations, canon-wise:

-Sneaking off to have picnics and make-out with Daniel

-Raising Henry like a normal mother (or as normal as Regina is going to get)

-Gardening, or something

-Watching “The View,” or something

-Learning to ride horses and shit with her Dad, growing up

Some fucked up fluffy:

-Hanging out in her evil castle chilling out all evil-like, like a female, magical Tony Montana (before he gets killed)

-Playing Texas Hold’em with other evil sorceresses, or something.

Other than that, I can’t really see Regina being fluffy. Her years in Storybrooke were relaxing, I can only assume. I bet she decorated that office of hers, because I’m not totally certain what designer could have come in with a crew to do it. Surely someone did most of the painting.

I’m sure Regina’s life was kinda miserable, however, before she adopted Henry. Sure she was sleeping with Graham, but in my head!canon (Eris, seriously, stop with the head!canon), he and the other citizens of Storybrooke had really faulty, bad memories that would reset every so often, so even if their relationship progressed in a normal way people in love (or in this case, in a creepy arrangement of *very* dubious consent) do, it wouldn’t be entirely normal, because he wouldn’t perceive all those many, many years going by.

Sure she had Sydney to hang out with and stick in the Friend Zone, but I can’t really see them chilling at Granny’s Diner or something. Regina had no one to talk to about her past, but then again, part of the reason she transported them somewhere like Maine was to get away from that past, wasn’t it?

Sure she enjoyed seeing Mary Margaret squirm and be sad and away from her husband and child, but that doesn’t really pass the time, does it?

So anyway, Regina’s life isn’t very fluffy back in her youth either, since she was constantly getting shit from her mother Cora. She got her fun and escape from being anywhere away from Cora she could get. I’m sure she snuck off as much as possible, getting her Dad to cover for her.

But I wrote something fluffy, because I suck, and it came out as Not About Regina At All, which one might say is forgivable, because I’m supposed to be writing original fiction anyway.

It ended up including Jefferson, but with a distinctly different personality than he had in the series or in my previous angsty AU-y fanfic. In that, he pretty much treats Regina like crap, in a very subtle, insidious way. I get that across in a couple of short chapters.

In the fluff I scribbled yesterday, he doesn’t act like that, and he actually does her a favor. Inspired by the creepy threesome ‘fic I found, Regina hasn’t bumped uglies with anybody but Leopold, sooo….

It’s a bit too fluffy, because they treat each other like equals, and we know from the show that, at this point, she is already a heart-crushing murderer. I have him take her to the Discworld, because it’s my “fanfic” and shush.

It would stand to reason that the Discworld would be one of the places you can access in the Portal of Doors. It is a big time fantasy world, in contemporary literature, and it was really the safest place he could take her. The ‘fic in my notebook is ALL OVER THE PLACE. It goes from fluffy sex to angsty potions to meeting Rincewind and trying to steal his magic. It’s fucking ridiculous.

My story begins…

Continue reading

‘Ship List (Why are we fascinated by romance and sex?)

Wrote this on Tumblr:

Because I have the uncanny ability to transform myself back into a 16 year old girl, here’s a list of ‘ships:

Old ‘Ships

Cid Highwind/Tifa Lockheart – I can’t for the life of me remember why. I think it was this epic, amazing fanfic I read years ago.

Reeve Tuesti/Yuffie Kisaragi – Because they’re total opposites but they used to hang out when he was Cait Sith and he’s a hot dude in real life and eventually she turns 18 and he needs to lighten the fuck up and she’s the head of his core of spies anyway.

Auron/Rikku – Gross gross gross, but I read this amazing fanfic about it. I am gross.

Auron/Braska/Jecht – Because they are the slashiest.

Cloud/Zack – Practically canon. (Cloud/Sephiroth was so overdone it made my eyes roll to the back of my head.)

Discord/Ares/Strife/Deimos – Why? Because they’re incestuous as fuck and it’s just a fact.

Andrew/Warren – Why? Because it was practically canon. (Ok, so Andrew’s abiding fucked up love was canon. Warren’s was not.)

Buffy/Spike – Because it was toyed with so long and then happened in Season 6 and I and everyone cheered at yet another fucked up but amazing ‘ship.

Angel/Spike/Drusilla/Darla –  (But Angel and Spike have never been intimate! Apart from that one time…)

Xena/Ares – Because even Xena and Gabrielle’s love can’t erase the oodles of UST that was, in fact, canon. Ares’ abiding fucked up love for Xena was canon. Xena’s occasional make-outs with him were, too. Come on, people. You can hate him all you want, but they are smoking hot together. (RIP Kevin Smith)

Frodo/Sam – Because they have been slashy since 1954.

Merry/Pippin – Because incest is best.

Ford/Arthur – He rescues Arthur from the Vogons and then endures his bullshit for years. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. (Platonic love, but Ford’s pansexual in my head!canon, anyway.)

Moderately Old ‘Ships

Starbuck/Leoben – Because it is impossible for me to like any pairing that’s remotely healthy.

Baltar/Every Six ever, but mostly Caprica – Because it is impossible for…etc etc, see above. And it was canon anyway.

Luigi/Amber – Obscure movie. More incest. So wrong. Very likely. (Not if you used to read “Luigi’s” old Twitter feed, however, where he pretty much explicitly stated Pavi was just kidding.)

Doctor/Romana – Because it happened, dammit! Even if it’s not canon, we know it was. But that’s probably because he acted ‘shippy with Lala Ward ‘cuz they were married. (Fun Fact: Lala Ward and Baker divorced. Later she married Richard Dawkins. Yes, big time atheist guy. I sort of met him one time.)

Doctor/Sarah Jane – Didn’t happen, but now we know she was in love with him her whole life. Sarah!! /hugs

Doctor/Rose – Because it’s canon and they’re darling. But now I want to punch them in the face. Yes, we know, we know. Your true loves are, basically, your late wife (I assume), Rose and your new wife. (And River will pretty much out-do the other two because she’s stuck in an epic time loop with you.)

Doctor/Donna – Because it squicks everyone in Doctor Who fandom ever.

Doctor/Amy – Because we were all in denial and that’s why fanfiction exists anyway.

Doctor/Master – Because it’s obvious.

Xev/Stan – Because someone has to squick out everyone else in the world, and that person is me. This would even squick out Xev and Stan, and Stan spent the entire series trying to get her to fuck him. I think the shock of her actually doing so would do him in.

Fairly Recent ‘Ships

Jeff/Annie – Because it’s canon and it needs to happen for real and I suspect the show will end with it happening but it’ll really end with Jeff/Britta happening and I will cry.

Regina/Jefferson – Because it happened, dammit! And if not, it still happened in my fanfiction.

Brodie/Carrie – Because I can’t ever like a functional couple ever.

Annie/Mitchell – Because they were a lovely, tragic couple and now they’re both dead and make me cry.

Hal/Cutler – Totally banged once. It was rough and there was biting but Cutler loved it. Yup. I should write that fanfic.

Eric/Sookie – I am unapologetically Team Eric, which is pointless now since Bill is a demon and it’s obviously Team Eric from here on out, so…

Jaina/Thrall – Come on. Totally tragic.

Rincewind/anyone – Because that guy deserves to get laid.


Nick/Jess, from New Girl!


Nancy/Andy, from Weeds – Because of their bond…which was sooo dysfunctional

Bernard/Fran, from Black Books – Because it’s criminal

Roy/Jen, from The IT Crowd – Because it would never work but I wrote fanfiction anyway

Tim/Daisy, from Spaced – Because it’s quirky love

Vince/Howard, from The Mighty Boosh – Because they’re slashy

Jess/Jason, from True Blood – Because they…they…They care about each other and are drop dead gorgeous! (Also, apparently, Jess got over her hymen issue with him. Um…Retcon, maybe.)

Dumb 3 a.m. questions one season later

Wrote this on Tumblr:

So…I am certain that we could take what Jefferson says at face value and that he really was, literally, trapped inside his house for 28 years. (I’m sure if the writers were ever asked they were like, “Duh,” and it’s also how Sebastian played it.) But where did he get food? Well, probably because he was also stuck at 8:15 – Every day, things would reset, including whatever was in his ‘fridge.

Regina makes a comment that he could have killed her 28 years ago, but she possibly/probably just doesn’t know he was physically incapable of leaving the house. Or was just being a b*tch. (Their encounter also strongly indicates there was no hate!f***ing in Storybrooke. Also this is a family show. Then again, based on my very limited understanding of Swan Queen, everyone thinks Regina is hate!f***ing Emma.)

It would also be no reprieve from his mental breakdown in Wonderland. And he’s not very good (which is an understatement) at being around other people, from having been alone so long.

So, let’s say, Emma Swan rides into town in her Bug. Suddenly he can leave the house! (Now he has to actually get groceries for real. Oh, well. Maybe he just eats a stash of macaroni and cheese.)

However, I wrote three fanfics in which this is not the case.

It makes me nervous, even though I have founds all kinds of uber, AU, crossover and just plain odd “Once Upon a Time” fanfiction. One of them was titled “Voting for Obama.” Seriously.

The past is free reign for all kinds of speculation/crazy crap/sexy tiems that will get jossed later, but we have a solid explanation about his life in Storybrooke. He is not only Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day,” but he is imprisoned with no other company. (Except books, maybe a TV, films. Whatever. He has windows and lots of outfits. He’s still in that same state of mind he was in Wonderland, obsessively making hats. But he also has this life in his head of this other man, this rich man, who moved to New England and wasn’t from a magic land at all.)

So if he’s stuck in his house, there’s no sexy tiems with Regina, unless she visited, or something, nevermind hanging around the hospital taking anti-psychotic medication and creeping everyone out, like in my fanfics.

But I don’t think I was the only one who tweaked his curse and let him leave the house. I forget. I think other people f*** around with canon, though, anyway. We are not the writers of the show. We just kinda take these characters and have them make out with each other do other stuff with them.

Even though Lana and Sebastian are gorgeous people and I’m suddenly crushing hard, on both of them, I’m embarrassed to re-watch those episodes…(Hat Trick. Pretty much just Hat Trick), even though I have spent the last few weeks enthusiastic about the show, re-watching episodes of the show (yay Netflix), writing/reading fanfiction, and ‘shipping him and Regina hard.

Then again, I suppose you can still watch it, despite the face-reddening shame you have of writing them going at it canine style in the Evil Queen’s castle and having drunk make-outs in Storybrooke.

I don’t think I was the only one to have him leave his house in a fanfic. Was I? Maybe I was?

Stuff we conveniently ignore

Posted this on Tumblr:

So, when I first watched “Once Upon a Time” upon its premiere last year, I took at face value the fact that Storybrooke was frozen at 8:15 for 28 years.

But then you consider Henry, who has left Storybrooke to find Emma, and other than his suspicions that his town is bizarrely fucked up (my words, not the child’s), it seems he has had a “normal” childhood. He has quite obviously aged from a baby to 10.

Regina has also experienced 28 years, and we can assume the reason she adopted Henry was because she was lonely. And the reason anyone let her adopt Henry was because his bio-mom could break the Curse.

While Regina has been young for 28 years, and had a peaceful life, which is what she wanted, ultimately, along with Snow White being punished by being separated from Prince Charming, and all the people of FairyTale Land once again under her control, it seems Regina has also experienced time normally, especially while she was raising her son. She enrolled him in school, and tried to get him to play with other kids, and go to therapy. If it really was 8:15 until Emma crossed the border, how was such a thing possible?

Henry would, I assume, notice being stuck in a Bill Murray movie, and not only grow up with a strained relationship with his mother, but a bit of a craziness as well. You can only erase someone’s real memories so much. And since Regina is so protective of her son, I can only assume she wouldn’t fuck with his brain like that.

So it can’t be the exact same day, over and over and over. It doesn’t make sense for Regina or Henry. Surely she would get as sick of it as Bill Murray, and her son would be adversely affected as well.

So that was confusing, to me. You could say everyone in Storybrooke was frozen – literally frozen, and not just young forever – but that just is so very strange if Regina and Henry had a normal 10 years.

Then you have Jefferson. He is literally the only other person in Storybrooke, other than Regina, to (A) retain his memory and (B) experience all 28 years fully, merely frozen young. And (C), unique to his own predicament, have memories of a life born and raised normally on Earth as well.

(It’s really fucked up I ‘ship the two of them, considering she hated him so much to curse him with, basically, being Bill Murray in that Groundhog Day situation. Except hot. And dissociative. But I ‘ship young!them, so it’s okay. Sort of. Not really.)

Emma talks to Jefferson and gets the impression he is in that very situation – Sonny and Cher song and all. He seems that way, as well. He conveys it that way to her. But it still doesn’t make any sense if Regina experienced those 28 years and, for the most part, actually enjoyed it.

Imagine you are Regina and you are stuck in such a condensed time loop. You’d go mad, as well.

So I don’t think it was the same minute or same day. I think it was more nuanced than that. But it doesn’t make any sense.

We all ended up writing fanfiction with scenes from during that 28 years that conveys it differently, like I did, that they’re stuck in the sort of time loop that doesn’t fuck with your head quite so much as Bill Murray’s is in Groundhog Day, or totally frozen at 8:15, either. I could have accepted it having been 8:15 forever if Henry hadn’t aged. But he did.

I dunno if the writers said something about it, or if I even want to know. Anybody know?

Tumblr and the Mad Queen

Took to writing about television and movies on Tumblr, because that’s where it’s at. Mostly teenage girls, but regardless, everyone clusters over there for fandom-type things. I think I wrote somewhere, too, that professionals cluster on Tumblr. It’s pretty much THE hippest website out there, if you think about it, for posting media like photographs and artwork. At least, in the same manner as a Twitter feed. Not anything to compile an archive with, or anything, where it’s easy to navigate from entry to entry, but certainly easy to share, by “reblogging,” and “liking,” which they do on Twitter and Facebook. Social media, which sucks us in so powerfully it’s startling to me, even to this day.

In the dark, during the hurricane, it was a relief to get away, but then again, I was still wrapped in fictions, wracking my brain writing a story. I edited and re-edited the story today and yesterday, which is pretty lame and kinda sad. I don’t think other people would like it. I know it’s not “in character.” I don’t know how to still convey what I wanted to convey without stomping on canon – that foolish restriction that comes with playing with other people’s copyrighted work. You can make your own characters do what you want.

Other people’s characters – their thoughts are mere speculation. I know that in canon, Regina wouldn’t let herself be seen as vulnerable in front of Jefferson. If they fucked, it would be impersonal. Fun. A challenge. A sort of contest, competition, struggle for control. If anything, she’d pull him apart, leave him broken and hating her, because that’s what we see, so far, in the show. (Of course I’m talking about that ABC fantasy series Once Upon a Time.) 

It’s heavily implied that once she lets go of Daniel, realizes he’s lost to her, truly deceased, that she begins to unravel – old Regina is buried, replaced by a vindictive dictator that would go on to manipulate herself into power, wearing a mask of compliance until she had the opportunity to kill her husband and send a huntsman after her step-daughter. We know this about Regina’s past, from all the Lost-style flashbacks over last season and this season. All we know about Jefferson is he’s shattered in the present, and he was once haughty and kind of an asshole in his youth. Anything in between is pure speculation, at this point, and because Regina is one of the five main characters, we see all of her, and her development. Her origins and how she’s evolved.

“Evil is not born, it’s made.”

For about five minutes, we see a naive Regina put her faith in Jefferson, despite the fact he’s a brusque businessman who feigns sympathy so obviously it’s shocking she doesn’t notice. But this is an origin story, after all. Of Regina’s final push into evil queen territory. Of their relationship, if we get to see anymore of their history together. In the final scene of the episode, she kills a woman in cold blood, to the giddy delight of her tutor Rumpelstiltskin. Like two flashbacks earlier, she’s crying over her dead boyfriend, crumbling with the agony of crushed hopes. She’d been hugging onto Jefferson in fear of Victor’s lightning just a second ago. (BTW, worst fake-out ever. Victor spent like two seconds pretending to resurrect Daniel. You’d think he and Jefferson would put a little more effort into the act, but Regina saw what she wanted to see.)

It came out and nags at me, that she’d still be uncertain about her evil-queen-ness just after this incident. But Rumpel cheerily tells Victor and Jefferson they successfully helped him make his monster (Victor Frankenstein objects to people saying he’s created a monster back home; he’s just trying to resurrect his own brother, or at least he thinks he is) and sends them on their way. Victor gets his heart, Jefferson gets his money, and Rumpel gets Regina.

Regina swans in and kills the girl. And maybe she’d still fuck Jefferson anyway, for fun, but in my story she worries, throughout internal monologue, that this rebound sex (Leopold doesn’t count) will crack her mask. I partly wrote it because it’s happened to me in real life, and partly because they wear dual identities in Storybrooke, anyway. Everyone there tells Jefferson he’s insane, that he’s imagining the 28 years repeating over and over and over, with only subtle differences and fake backstories. No one aging, until Emma walks into town.

Regina could swan in and confuse him. She’s a lawyer. She’s a sorceress. He’s had a mental breakdown. Or…he’s had a mental breakdown in another universe, in Wonderland. She broke him and he had to slowly patch himself back together, unsuccessfully, because no one understood or believed him. An even worse fate, he thinks, than anything else that she’s done to him.

So it’s such a delight to see him so very, very different when the two of them were young. Sebastian Stan is the hammiest fucking ham in the show, after Robert Carlyle, but it works, I think, even though I cringe a little at it. He’s a smarmy fake, and that’s the point. So if anyone could get into young!Regina’s pants, it would probably be him. In the present, it seems obvious they used to fuck. I hate that few others see it.

I don’t know why we hope for non-canon pairings to be canon so badly. For one thing, about every fan – mostly lesbians; some straight, I believe? – slashes Emma and Regina. They find the pairing undeniably obvious, but I never saw it. Yes, I saw the slashy vibe, but I don’t slash them, myself. I don’t know if it’s because they’re women, or because I honestly don’t see it. I think it’s because they’re women, and I’m a straight woman, because if it was a man and a woman, or two men, I’d probably be ‘shipping/slashing it as loudly as anyone else.

It IS a relief that this show has strong female characters who pass the Bechdel Test. But that’s par for the course in an adventure show, where there are much more dire things at stake than your love life. One romantic comedy that passed the Bechdel Test with flying colors was Bridesmaids, which was refreshing as ever. (It also had people shitting in sinks, and they were women, and they could be as crude as any guy from the Hangover.) It was about female friendship. And Once Upon a Time is about female friendship and family. Sure, Snow White spends most of her time running around trying to find her husband, but she also spends most of her time running around trying to fight evil. Trying to survive. Trying to find justice. Her daughter, grandson and husband, her friends and her kingdom, all take turns in her heart, as her priorities. Snow White is a strong woman. Mary Margaret spent a lot of time whinging over David, but in her flashbacks, she didn’t always need him. She fell in love with him, not because he awakened her with a kiss, but because he was there fighting by her side during the years before it.

Or maybe Snow White just whines about her man. I dunno. But Emma and Regina fight over their son, and Regina’s hold over the community, and her schemes against Mary Margaret, and her general evil attitude. Emma and Regina, if they were men – their slashiness would be obvious to me because of that tired trope of Foe-Yay. I’m a straight woman, so I see two straight women duking it out.

I will admit that Emma wants to see some good in Regina, but it’s next to impossible. It is impossible to feel sympathy for her, I have Jefferson say, in my fanfic’s narration. Others start to feel it, though, and see behind her carefully constructed mask. Archie does. Now David does. Henry may, in the future, if she treats him better and stops bullshitting him. Stops trying to force her love, buy her love, and merely nurture that familial love her neglected son always needed. Stop lying to him. Even Victor did something selfless for her, out of a stupid notion that lost him his arm. I’m sure he’ll go back to hating her again, especially since he got his arm ripped off.

Ugggggh, this show makes me want to tear my hair out, just like Lost used to. A part of me wants to marathon through Season 1 again, but then that blush would rise to my cheeks and I’d feel embarrassed, like I always do, about the fanfiction I wrote. Which is strange, because plenty people write playfully bad fanfiction and they don’t get worked up about it. They have “real” writing to do, elsewhere. Essays. News reports. Press releases. Research papers. Advertising copy.

We know how they first met, and we know how he first fooled her into trusting him. But what was their relationship like after that? And why do I care so much? The Mad Hatter is kinda douchey, though you do feel sorry for him. So sorry for him, until that cathartic moment he’s reunited with his daughter. His story has come full circle – leaving his daughter in EF (“You don’t abandon family”), because he had to do one. last. favor. for Regina. Trapped in Wonderland and driven crazy, trapped in Storybrooke and convinced he’s sick, counting the hours until he either got his old life back or died.

Some people wonder if, perhaps, it was karma, that the smarmy conman tricking a young Regina for money would end up so undone by the evil sorceress he unwittingly helped create. But that’s not really fair. The responsibility for how she turned out rests on Cora and Rumpelstiltskin. Victor and Jefferson just did as they were told. They couldn’t even conceive what Regina would become. It’s not fair to think they should be punished so harshly for it. But it’s kinda funny, in a twisted way, that Jefferson was.

I see why they wrote that this season. And perhaps you can stomp your feet and get mad about it – excuse me; angry – but it doesn’t not fit him.

This crush is embarrassing. This ‘ship is embarrassing. I wish I could feel like this:










but mostly I feel like this:






But remember when we had this:







and then I feel like this:






Anyway, we can wonder about other people’s fictional characters all we want, but I have a feeling I’d have trouble constructing a romance from scratch, anyway. My uncle said if I’m so damn keen on writing erotica, then I should give it a shot doing my own Fifty Shades, because me and half the Internet would do such a better job, and now that it’s acceptable, people would eat it up.

I have this inability to write PWP. Or to separate sex from emotion. Not from love, necessarily, but from infatuation, certainly. I can’t really see any of these characters in Once Upon a Time not caring, inside, about what they’re doing. Blah blah blah, Regina is an awful person with a cold heart. Yeah, I know. But we know her Achilles Heel was Daniel, blah blah blah. If you won’t let me have her feel conflicted over fucking Jefferson, then give me some great PWP with none of that. But I recently read the greatest PWP to ever grace my screen in years, and still, in internal monologue, the two of them had thoughts about what it was like before they were so hateful. Blah blah blah, being a ‘shipper is messed up and so…

What a rough draft looks like – Trina and the Wizards

Title: Figure of Eight – Chapter 6 – The Trouble, or What You Love (ROUGH DRAFT)

Author: BostonEris aka newengland32

Rating: Teen

Characters: Rincewind/OFC

Word Count: 4,226

Summary: Rincewind, an orphan from the streets of Ankh-Morpork, now in his early twenties, has high hopes of becoming a wizard and learning magic. A mysterious benefactor gives him the opportunity of a lifetime, and a puzzled faculty at Unseen University is forced to permit him entry. Meanwhile, he falls in sort-of-love with a Mary Sue who calls him on his shit and can drink him under the table.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Discworld series, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Author’s Notes: Would normally go right here, but mine were a bit lengthy. This here is the rough draft of the middle part of a long, incomplete, wicked OOC fanfic describing a version, in the Trousers of Time, of Rincewind the Wizard’s twenties.

Figure of Eight – Chapter 6 – The Trouble, or What You Love

One of the first lessons a human learns in Ankh-Morpork is not to drink with dwarves.

Rincewind was twenty-one years old and it was still the era dwarves and humans stuck to separate bars. Several decades later he would be rubbing elbows with a myriad of humanoids from trolls, to werewolves, to dwarves and even vampires. His best friend would be an orangutan.

At thirty, Rincewind could tilt his hat (embroidered with the word “wizzard”) and lean on the misconception that he could defend himself with a flick of the wrist and blast of pure magic. It wasn’t until he slipped into a pathetic drinking habit, paying for it with transparently common confidence games, that his peers would start calling him a “gutter wizard.” Even so, he could sit in the back of an establishment like The Broken Drum and usually not get harmed. One such risky afternoon led him to Twoflower, after all, and completely changed his life.

That would come later, and in the present, selecting a pub in Morpork was always a gamble. In the daytime Rincewind could get away with entering just about anyplace and leaving with all his organs. Pubs served meals as well as drinks, after all, but pub food stuck to very basic selections: sandwiches, pies, chips, sausages, various pickled things and various fried things. The quality of the food depended upon the ingredients available that day, and whether or not the cook wanted to put in the effort. Any hungry customer still left satisfied, even if he hadn’t. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Ankh had nicer places, but those had higher prices and required nicer clothes.

Still, Rincewind could find a tavern that wasn’t dangerous but still presented a lively atmosphere. This included mingling with other humanoids. Segregation in the city wasn’t mandated by the Patrician, but it was encouraged. It was no secret Lord Winder was speciesest; most humans were as well. The dwarves stuck to one part of the city, but their presence was steadily spreading with every immigrant. Walking down a dwarf street was not tantamount to Ankh-Morpork suicide, but trespassing was still treated unkindly.

People will always feel odd – if not hostile – interacting with those who are different. Rincewind, however, hadn’t been brought up with much parental guidance or education; he didn’t harbor much racism or even much speciesism. Drawn to the supernatural and “other,” Rincewind wasn’t a typical Ankh-Morpork human himself. He could also, like any other survivalist, recognize his own predjudices well enough to keep his mouth shut around people who could cut your legs off before you even knew they were there.

Even if your best friend is a dwarf, you don’t drink with dwarves. A dwarf has a remarkable constitution and doesn’t mess around. If a dwarf is going to challenge you to a drinking competition, you had best steel yourself for a marathon. Preferably, you’ve been training yourself for months, if not years, building up a tolerance just short of killing your liver. No human was quite sure why this was, but even if you sat down for a half-glass of sherry with a dwarf, he was going to propose a game, and you were going to accept, because there would be a mad glint in his eye that made his machismo contagious.

(Though dwarves could be men or women. However, you couldn’t tell under the hair or the armor; it was a matter reserved for couples and their matchmaking parents to sort out. Rincewind didn’t know this, but a female dwarf would challenge him to the contest and a human woman would step in to complicate the situation even further.)

Most dwarves concluded the workday by filling up their taverns and singing about gold. They would quaff their ales from slightly smaller mugs and a human would smugly take on a challenge on account of the diminished glasses. They were misleading, however, since the volume of ale consumed could easily be balanced by the amount of glasses served. (Additionally, the rules of any formal drinking game between a dwarf and a human dictated that mug sizes could not be mixed, on penalty of axing.) Basic geometry could sort it all out, but that was beside the point. Dwarves took drinking about as seriously as they took mining, if not moreso.

The first lesson a dwarf learns is how to pass out upright.

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