It’s quite uncommon for anything larger than an insect to be trapped in tree sap, since most larger creatures can just wriggle out (including larger insects, hence the great rarity of large spiders or scorpions). Sometimes though, something out of the usual turns up, such as this critter trapped in Baltic amber, the remnants of 44 million year old Eocene tree sap.
Summary: Kurt is drifting through his senior year of high school; he bothers no-one, and finally no-one bothers him. In the four years since his mother’s death when he was thirteen years old, Kurt and his father have become strangers living in the same house. Until one day an overly-enthusiastic transfer student from some private school is asking him for directions, and his father brings home the mother of his once-tormentor.
Lynne’s review: A friend rec’d this fic to me and promised me I could handle the angst. Ok, she was right, but BARELY. Gotta say the angst between Kurt and Burt was devastating - heartbreaking. It’s a beautiful story, very well written, but yeah, tough. Despite the massive amounts of angst, I really did love it and read all 130K in a few days.
sorry to the anon who posted this, my internet is crap and I can’t answer directly
Dipper: I guess I like how tall he is.
Bill: We’re barely two inches apart. And the question was about my face. You just don’t want to admit that you like my eyes. What was that I read in your diary again? “Iridescent irises, like sunshine trapped in honey amber - ”
Dipper:Aaaaaaaaaaaand that’s quite enough from you. As for his personality, when he isn’t being a narcissistic jerk, or reading through my journal -
Dipper: - private journal, I guess he can be nice at times? And he always know how to cheer me up whenever I’m stressed so that’s a plus.
Your platitudes about defying harassment are great and all but none of you comic pros are listening to the real complaint that kicked all this up in the first place. The work is BAD. Characters with long histories are being awkwardly changed to fit a political agenda instead of servicing a good story. Marvel doesn't feel like Marvel so fans are fleeing. Sales are down. What are you going to do about it?
First off, they’re not “platitudes.” Either you believe other people should be treated with respect and be free to exist online without being stalked or fearful for their safety or you don’t. It’s cut and dry. Condoning that, whatever your end goals may be, camps you out with people who are disrespectful at the top end and downright criminal at the bottom. Decide if this is the hill you really want to die on with the “allies” you have on your side.
Okay, on to your other point-
The comic industry is going through upheaval, absolutely. If we have to be honest though, so is all of media. Piracy is slamming into instant access entertainment and that’s splintering our attention more than ever before. New comics (dozens every week) aren’t just competing with each other, they’re competing with streaming movies/TV, video games, craft beers, and newly accessible deep archives of the best (and worst) comics from the start of publishing through to now. That doesn’t even count foreign content like manga, also available for deep dives and also fighting for your dollar. I don’t think it’s fair to just say sales are low because the work is bad and not acknowledge that almost every media is going through similar rocky times. People are reassessing where their entertainment dollars go across the board and things are shaking up - period.
The single issue format does seem to be taking a beating as of late, it’s true. Corporate decisions made in the past in terms of format, distribution, sales outlets, and pricing seem to be coming to a head and I have no idea how that will shake out, especially in a world that’s understandably distracted with natural disasters and a political divide as bad as it’s ever been.
Marvel of the 70′s wasn’t Marvel of the 60′s.
Marvel of the 80′s wasn’t Marvel of the 70′s.
Marvel of the 90′s wasn’t Marvel of the 80′s.
You get the idea. We can’t trap this stuff in amber. The Marvel Universe is a dynamic creative sandbox that reflects the time we live in while also carrying decades of continuity on its back. It’s wonderful and ridiculous, and can’t be fully encompassed in one character, one series, or one time. The stories that inspired me color my work in the same way the stories that inspired you color your perception of what’s happening now.
There are people reading Marvel Comics right now who are being inspired by these current stories. Whatever you may think of it, this is their Marvel. If that goes down a road where sales can’t sustain it and things need to change, then I expect that’s what you’ll see. It’s happened before. Implosions and new initiatives. Experiments. The best parts get carried forward, the bad bits become footnotes and the creative journey continues.
I don’t run Marvel. If I did it would reflect my creative ideas more intensely, but it would also need to incorporate other people, other ideas, and the twists and turns the world throws at it. Compromise and collaboration is how this stuff gets done. It’s how the world actually functions. Acknowledge that not every title needs to fit your personal sensibilities in order to be “worthy.” Variety is an important part of the search for quality.
As one writer working with a team of skilled and passionate people, all I can promise is that I’ll write stories that I as a reader would enjoy. I’m a dyed-in-the-wool Marvel fan who loves incorporating continuity while also moving stories forward with new ideas. That’s my jam.
I don’t know of a single creator who sets out to tell a bad story or wreck a character they’re tasked with working on. There are comics I read that I do not enjoy and would absolutely have done differently, but my first instinct isn’t to assume the people involved are on a mission to destroy it. I move on and look to other titles for my fix. I check back in every so often to see if things have improved.
Back in the day, I collected Amazing Spider-Man from issue #231 through to #363. I loved reading Spidey stories. He was (and generally is) my favorite Marvel character. I have so many memories of those stories and key moments are indelibly burned into my brain. Even still, by the time the book hit #350+, I wasn’t feeling it any more. The book had changed. I’d changed. I eked out collecting for another year and then realized I’d missed a couple months and wasn’t worried about it at all. It was time to walk away.
Many years later, I was reading about Dan Slott’s Big Time story arc starting with Amazing Spider-Man #648 and thought “What the heck. I’ll give it a try.” Just like that, I was back into reading Spidey. I’ve been enjoying it ever since. This stuff is cyclical. I could spin my life away obsessing over why the books weren’t “good” in that long gap, but I’d rather read comics I enjoy. I don’t want you to leave or stop collecting, but I do think it’s important to allow that to happen if necessary. Find other books that tick your tock.
I don’t know Marvel’s deepest/darkest future plans, but I do know that Marvel Legacy is an attempt to ratify the past and present. To keep what works from the past while moving things into the future. Will it work? I don’t know. Keep reading and we’ll find out together.
I hope you stick around and boost up titles you feel hit the mark while letting other titles succeed or fail with the readerships they cultivate, even if they’re not the same as you.
She stares into eyes of warm honey, finds herself stuck in the them like a bug trapped in amber—suspended in the moment. Cosima smiles back at her so sweetly that it’s impossible not to crave forever with this woman; they’ve been denied here and now from the get-go, separated by space and science and secrets, but now she finally sees a future for the two of them and it tingles on her tongue, dissolves into a taste she’s unfamiliar with yet craves more than anything. Her heart swells, fingers brushing against flushed cheeks as she brings her hands to cup her lover’s face.
She had stared up at the painting, at the wonder Felix had miraculously produced with mere brushstrokes, and nearly buckled beneath the weight of its gravity. Were it not for her arm slung around Cosima’s neck propping her up, she’s certain she would have crumbled to the floor in a pile of reverent tears; she sees her love staring back at her in all of her unassuming wisdom and vulnerability. She accepts it all—accepts this rendering of a shared face that’s become so singular to her.
This Cosima is soft yet vibrant like the one she remembers when they first met—the one that had slowly withered with each betrayal, with the progression of her disease. This Cosima is the one that stands before her now—open and vivacious and thriving once more.
She reaches into Felix’s breast pocket and retrieves a sticker, marking it as hers.
(Because she’s earned this much).
(Because they both have).
“Sold,” she declares with large smile plastered on her face.
Cosima quickly pulls her into a kiss, confirming what they both already know—
The gesture is merely a courtesy.
She already bought this image so long ago—here, in this very loft, making tearful promises to each other in the dark. She bought it again the next day when she stormed into Leekie’s office, blood samples in tow and a fire in her belly. She’s bought it every day since, paid for it with blood and a bullet and tears.
“You own me,” Cosima grins as their lips break, as she’s pulled away by Felix.
“Yeah. You’re mine.”
Drunkenness aside, there’s a sincerity to Cosima’s voice and she feels it deeply. She watches as the music starts up again and the crowd cheers, watches Cosima glow as she giggles and bows to her adoring fans. She brings a hand to her lips which still buzz from their contact, her mouth splitting at the seam.
There will be more smiles, she thinks.
There will be more sun and laughter and playful banter, more wine and hand-holding, more helium highs and promises made.
Cosima knows this too.
She can see it in her eyes as as they search hers later in the shelter of her bedroom, seeking comfort and reassurance. She can feel it in the gentle hand that settles on her own, guiding her finger to the touchpad on the laptop as they cross the finish line together. She can taste it in Cosima’s tears as kisses them away, lowering her softly on the bed.
There will be so much more, they both know—but there will be no replacing what they’ve lost.
Even still, she watches Cosima at rest, curled into a tiny ball at her side as her chest rises and falls steadily for the first time in months, and thinks that she’d do it all again in a heartbeat if it means they can have this; she’ll face whatever battle any titan sends her way; she’ll fight through the lies and heartbreak all over again.
She’ll buy a full set of matching faces and hang them all around their bedroom to remind her that they’re finally home.
Finally got to take my camera out to my first event thanks to Focus OC! This isn’t my first event, but with a camera it was. Found out Mija was going to be playing in town and I’ve always wanted to see her so I figure I take some shots. Here’s my short experience on this night! It’s pretty tough shooting in this kind of environment.. especially because of the ocean of hands i’d have to maneuver around just to get a perfect window to squeeze in a picture. I really wish I could have gotten more angles, but getting around the crowd was near impossible, so I worked with what I had especially since I didn’t have a back-stage pass! Most importantly though, i’m satisfied with my photos and I enjoyed the new experience. I don’t think i’ve ever had this much fun shooting someone or someone djing haha. The eye contact with Mija, the random smiles, the candid poses and photos, those were genuinely my favorite things about shooting an actual person for the first time. Definitely will be doing this again! Oh yeah and Mija, you slayed Orange County tuesday night. Thanks for throwing a killer show.. Till next time! @mijaofficial