#i od be quirky like that sometimes

[tzar-jpeg]

Reigen I tried to sneak into a magazine as a editorial ilustration (it didn't work 😔)

#i od be quirky like that sometimes #mob psycho 100 #reigen #reigen arataka #mob psycho #mob 100 #arataka reigen #art #ilustration #fanart

[greghatecrimes]

Autistic!Thirteen Part 2, Electric Boogaloo!

(Part 1, 1.5)

(I said this post was just going to be "traits without concrete evidence" but I lied. There's more canon supported traits first.)

Traits with Canonical Support/Evidence Part II:

Often gets lost in own thoughts and zones out (5x12: Not paying attention to what Cuddy & House are talking about in Rachel's nursery, and then abruptly and loudly blurting "non-motor seizures" because she was zoned out thinking about the patient.)

Often struggles with and is confused by the unwritten social rules of accurate eye contact, tone of voice, proximity of body stance, posture in conversation (Specifically with tone: the entire argument about Foreman telling Thirteen in 6x03 "Dinner tonight at 7:00. I already made a reservation." Foreman thinks it's no different from any other time he's asked her to dinner and doesn't see why she's upset. Thirteen explains that "It felt like an order. Your tone of voice was—". Yes, Foreman has work-personal life boundary issues in this episode, but because she was so fixated on and confused by the tone, Thirteen wasn't able to parse that the frustration behind Foreman's words and tone of voice was directed at the case, not her personally.)

Other Potential Traits

These are traits that we don't necessarily see in canon– so I have no episodes to cite– but I think these fit her character extremely well. I would not at all be surprised to see her have them. The lion's share of these are based on observations from my season five rewatch.

Frequently imitates (takes social cues from) people on television or in movies. (I think her dialogue specifically is extremely ‘TV show witty’-- not unlike House’s-- whereas other characters have lines that feel more natural and awkward instead of smoothly scripted. Like Chase’s yo mama joke lol)

Visualizes and practices how they will act around others (I have no way to prove this, but I 100% believe she rehearsed her speech in The Dig about a date OD-ing before telling it to House.)

Sense of humor sometimes seems odd, quirky, or different from others. (She matches House's quips and sometimes off-putting sense of humor, and he's also very nd/autistic coded)

Questions next steps and movements continually. (I feel like we can see this sometimes after she's been wrong in a DDX, and with interactions w/the patient & parents in The Softer Side)

Often sounds eager or over-zealous at times. (idk if this counts, but the sort of eagerness in her voice when she says “It’s a felony” in Joy always makes me laugh)

Eye contact often takes extreme focus, which may lead an individual's eye contact to be darting and insufficient, or over the top staring/glaring. (I think there are moments where I remember her eye contact not being typical, but I’d have to go ro rewatch and see if it’s actually flag-able as ‘unusual’ or if it was something only I’d notice)

Often highly adapted to social imitation.

May observe and question the actions and behaviors of self and others continually.

Conversation, specifically small talk, can be exhausting.

Trained self in social interactions through readings and studying other people

Has a continuous dialogue in mind that tells them what to say and how to act when in a social situations.

#autistic thirteen #remy thirteen hadley #house md #meta #autistic thirteen my beloved

[princelydisaster]

I have the inexorable urge to rant about a character I’m obsessed with that much of the fandom hates

Anyway fuck it.

I understand that a lot of people dislike Charles Quigley (for good reason) but I keep getting burned by finding fanfics and posts tagged with the character that only feature him to make fun of him or something

Honestly if you are writing a fanfic in the Harlots ‘verse and don’t want to include him, there is no shame in writing him out. (Or any other character for that matter.)

Have a throwaway line where someone says he went to visit a friend for a month or something.

That could also introduce things like more tension because Lydia might be more stressed / worried about having her precious baby mid 30s boy out of the house. Maybe she’s more prone to lashing out. Maybe she’s distracted and her rivals like Margaret get more bold about taking action against her.

It introduces a lot of interesting things that could work for a number of fanfic plots.

…Okay that’s it for people who don’t want to include him in fanfics, I’m gonna discuss things I think could be explored in fanfic below.

Note that because this show has a lot of interconnected characters I also talk a lot about Lydia, Emily, and Nancy for some reason.

TW: discussions of abusive relationships, incest, sex trafficking, kidnapping, murder (stuff that’s in the show)

I’ve seen someone say before that Charles is one of the few straight male characters on the show who’s important because of his part in fleshing out female characters via relationships.

I can see that. I think the nature of the show means that he as a man - a passive one at that - wouldn’t get a lot of screen time.

The point about him being important relationship wise is really interesting. Tbh, the early-mid season 1 interactions between Emily and Lydia remind me of the trope of a dad running to chase away his daughter’s boyfriend with a shotgun.

There’s that gender flipped part where women aren’t usually given as much sexual agency in tv/film etc, but also I like that it’s not played off as a kinda quirky “overprotective” parent thing, but the show recognizes how toxic this dynamic is.

You can argue in the gun toting dad example it’s sometimes bc the daughter is underage, but still, there’s often that undercurrent of a parent being threatened by their child getting a romantic partner and “replacing” them.

This is a big part of the Lydia and Charles relationship imo. I would characterize it as a nuanced depiction of an emotionally abusive relationship with elements of covert / emotional incest.

Emotionally abusive because she tends to manipulate him - isolate him from others, like potential partners.

When she feels he “replaced” her by choosing Emily - she immediately replaces him with Charlotte, a surrogate daughter.

Note: covert incest is not actual, literal incest. I do Not think their relationship has an actual sexual / romantic component to it. (but idk if you think that would be interesting to explore in a fanfic, go right ahead.)

I’m referring to unhealthy parent/child relationships where the child is expected to take on a role similar to the parent’s spouse. Such as where the parent expects the child to comfort them emotionally (even from a young age), or to prioritize their relationship over other forms of relationships, like friendships or dating other people.

I can definitely see that, especially with Lydia’s line to Rasselas in season 2 after he talks about losing his partner to an unknown disease. He says something like “I lost my precious boy”.

And she says, “so did I”.

This is due to Lydia being self centered as fuck, sure, but remember how she reacted to Charles nearly dying of an OD because of Emily? She was nowhere near this mopey about it.

(Ofc she had to make sure he was safe but once he was in stable condition she immediately struck.)

In that case at least she could react with violence and use Emily to boost her own standing.

In the case of Charles moving out to live with her, she’s kinda screwed, her old methods of dealing with a situation by attacking others to her own benefit don’t work.

It’s not really actionable. She can’t just go after Emily at the moment.

Lydia is finally stuck having to deal with the idea that her son - who she’s made part of her identity, especially if it means she can say she’s a Good Mother so she’s winning at Patriarchy - maybe chose someone else over her. Or doesn’t want to be close to her anymore.

—

Okay yeah I have talked about the relationships a lot but I could also talk about Charles himself.

Again, he’s a very passive character in a show about very active - or even aggressive - women.

I think his scenes in the show serve an important role of providing some levity or respite from the more intense drama (ie kidnapping, psychological torment, etc). It kinda breaks things up so you can fully digest how awful the other scenes are.

Not to say that he’s a totally innocent guy.

He’s still a shitty person, very self centered and privileged and willing to take advantage of others for his own desires.

I feel like sometimes I’m tipping the scales in his favor too much, as Charles is a morally grey character who likes to think he’s a good guy, but… it’s much easier for him to continue being awful or allow others to suffer for his benefit.

I think there’s a lot of interesting stuff at play with him, the ways Lydia’s parenting makes him see her as a role model and also a negative role model.

He starts off wanting to follow in her footsteps, to impress her. When Lydia starts intimidating Margaret for Emily coming to her, he backs up Lydia by remarking that Emily’s pretty bangable.

(Which is… kinda a stupid thing to add, but it still has an effect on Margaret, which is what they want.)

But once Charles starts to get into what it really means for Lydia to be a bawd - and him by extension - he doesn’t want to continue in the same way.

It’s not just, maybe he can keep Lydia from lashing out at the girls, or maybe if she does he can help them out by sneaking them food.

Once Emily nearly kills him via OD to escape, he doesn’t feel like going after her. Maybe he has a realization from that near death experience. Maybe he’s just too passive to want revenge. Maybe he knows that if he tried to get revenge Lydia would just take it to an eye for an eye levels of intense.

Maybe you could argue that he’s got some kind of guilt around what he did to Emily.

He seemed to almost have a moment of self awareness when (iirc) he told her he’d want to move out some place without Lydia, where she wouldn’t have to have sex with anyone… except him. Oops.

I think the relationship with Emily - because she’s a lot more pro active than he is, and she’s willing to talk back to him despite the power he has over her - forces him to realize his role in things.

And the development with the whole kidnapping people and giving them over to sadistic cultists to murder thing gets him firmly off Lydia’s side.

(Well, that and the line where iirc Nancy says something like “you can’t be on everyone’s side”.)

I think also there’s a lot that could be said about Nancy’s role in nudging him in the direction of a redemption arc in season. Maybe more like pushing him, idk.

Nancy is one of the only people who’s really patient enough to help Emily, even when she lashes out because she feels vulnerable.

She’s one of the first people who really treats Charles as an adult now that I think of it. Like even when Emily rocks the boat, she still plays into his childish side to keep his favor.

I think it’s largely because he’s the exact kind of guy Nancy is used to seeing - a rich dude who wants a dominant woman to take care of him and guide him - and the added history with his mother helps.

You could also argue that while Lydia fits patriarchal ideas of the ideal mother - being nurturing (unless you piss her off), delicate, feminine, lacking her own romance / sex life in lieu of caring for her child (usually) - Nancy is more like the reverse of all these traits, but she actually cares for and guides the people she takes under her wing.

When Emily lashes out at people she thinks are condescending to her, Lydia just doubles down on punishing her, but Nancy gives her the benefit of the doubt and offers her aid.

Was this post a Trojan horse for Nancy birch?? Maybe??

I think that the contrast is also interesting, with Nancy lacking all the conventionally feminine things that make Lydia appear to be a good person on the surface, but actually nurturing and wanting people to grow and providing good coping mechanisms and a shoulder to cry on. Often at the expense of herself.

(So basically Lydia is cloth mother and Nancy is wire mother? Yeah)

I realize I went way off the mark here but I think there’s a lot of potential in exploring the relationship between Charles and Nancy too.

Like he’s more used to seeing women who try to fit into social roles men place on them (whore, virgin, mother, crone etc archetypes) so seeing a goth butch lesbian who tells him to get his shit together… kinda breaks his brain.

It’s a really interesting dynamic I wish we saw more of.

—

There’s a lot more I could say, and maybe will say at a later date, but I’m getting kinda tired of writing this post. I tried to focus on the stuff that was touched on in canon + my own interpretation of it. Or different ones you could run with.

If you got this far… thank you for reading! I give you a sugar pig (whatever that is) for your efforts

#princely squeaks #harlots on Hulu #Charles Quigley #Lydia Quigley #Nancy Birch #Emily Lacey #in the end?? #why couldn’t I fixate on characters who have merch OTL I have to make my own or write long shit like this

[godsrejectedmartyr]

i hate that i can’t relate to friends my age.

they all like to brag about being the average tv teen drama show teenager.

we all have boyfriends but even the way we treat having boyfriends is different. “omg you guys my boy is the hottest most sexiest man in the world 😩””we fucked on the first date 🤭””i’m taking back the kinkiest friend in the group title 😜”

pls stfu 😭 first of all that’s nasty i don’t need to hear what you do with your boyfriend (sex repulsed asexual here 🤮), second of all having sex doesn���t make you cool and you’re actual children for thinking that it does💀 also what’s kinky about having the most vanilla sex in the world 😭 idfk bruh

not just that but the mental health stuff gets to me too and i hate that it does. cuz i don’t wanna be invalidating to their negative experiences, and i also don’t wanna make it a competition on who has it the hardest. but they think they’re so cool and quirky when they have a bad mental health moment and impulsively chop off their hair or dye it or something. meanwhile i’ll be going through episodes of literal psychosis for days on end and on occasions even weeks, oding, cutting inches, and no one will know.

and it’s not just that kind of stuff but sometimes they’ll also talk about other things they do, like signing up their band to perform at these events, or going out with friends and doing drugs or going to school events with their dates and what not. i don’t find this particularly annoying but i feel disconnected cuz i feel like i have no life or any involvement with the world around me. not to mention i feel like i’m being rushed into adulthood and never really having the chance to be a teenager due to being literally cripplingly suicidal all throughout my highschool career.

maybe i only feel this kind of resentment out of jealousy. just they just get to act like normal teenagers i guess. and not just that but they’re always so open about the things they talk about, so much so that i know they’d shit their pants if they really knew me.

i feel like no one irl knows me. my boyfriend is the one irl who knows me most, and even then there’s things i keep from him.

i like the friends my age, they’re funny and they’re good people, but i’m not like them. i know i could change that if i really wanted it instead of just brood in jealousy while locking myself away in my room while i starve myself, but adult responsibilities will start to hit me in just a few months. i won’t even have turned 18 when my teen years will be seemingly over.

i know life’s hard for everyone, i don’t know why i always think i have it worse or why i alway get upset when my friends talk about the outings they have or the shit they do. not to mention, how am i to know that they’re really telling the full story? as far as they know i probably have the easiest life known to man being the happiest person there is. i should know i’m not the only one who hides things.

i hate for people to know the things i do or have gone through because it makes me feel pathetic. not to mention i don’t like the attention, and telling people about all my business feels like i’m trying to get people to feel bad for me or like i’m bragging about having a hard life that in reality probably isn’t that hard. i’m just a cry baby little bitch to likes to make things harder for themselves for no reason. but even after all of that i sometimes wish for certain people to realize and find out how fucked up i am. even more fucked up than i let on in my diary blog. cuz sometimes the things i think, do, and want are truly disgusting. i wouldn’t even feel comfortable posting about it all on here.

my account is supposed to make me anonymous. but am i really anonymous when the name “godsrejectedmartyr” now has a personality attached?

[aro-ace-from-outer-space]

👀, 🦀

(for the wip asks)

🦀 - A favourite piece of dialogue

“Never fear, valuable citizens of this astonishingly cheap apartment. For I, Mister Disaster-” he broke off into laughter. He took a deep breath and composed himself. “I, Mister Disaster, have a Plan.” He held up a finger. “Now, now. I know what you’re thinking.

His eyes went wide and his voice raised an octave. “But Mister Disaster,” he said in a voice that wasn’t his own, “your plans are always, well, disasters!”

His voice dropped back to his own. “Ahaha!” He grinned. “But you are making a crucial error. This plan is not like the others, for this plan will work!” His voice dropped to a stage whisper as he addressed his enthralled audience of succulents. “You’ll like this plan. It’s not like the other plans. It’s quirky and different.” He unrolled a piece of paper. “Behold,” he declared. “Exhibit A.”

👀 - An excerpt from my WIP

So I have a couple I'm working on right now, but here's something I'm pretty sure I was high while writing.

The pencil’s name was Theo. He lay in the shop, packaged alongside another dozen Ticonderoga 2s, all awaiting a human to claim them. The pencils quietly chattered amongst each other – it was late at night, and no humans would hear them now. The pencils closest to the front of the shelf were most likely going to find their humans tomorrow.

Theo sighed dreamily, as he imagined what his human would be like. Would they sharpen him every week and keep him in a soft case? Perhaps they would be an artist. Their steady hands would carry him across the paper, producing a magnificent work of art. Or maybe, he would be part of a romantic love story, used to pen odes to the depth of his human’s lover’s eyes. What if the one who bought him was a spy? Theo shivered in excitement at the very thought. Well, whoever they were, he hoped they were nice.

He’d heard horror stories, mumbled from the pencils in the older humans’ pockets, about small humans who scarred pencils irreparably or broke them and sharpened them down to tiny stubs. Some particularly grizzled pencils had regaled him with tales of great woe. One such pencil, highly regarded in the Ticonderoga 2 community for his longevity, was Maximillian. He lived in the dark, having fallen behind the shelf a few years back. He spoke sometimes, warning the pencils of how terrible humans could be. His rough voice reached Theo now.

#anon #long post #sorry this got long #thank you for the ask! #writing #writeblr #writer #writer things #creative writing

[lesbiancarat]

Oohhh nicee!! I know March, ash, don are major fan favorites from what I have seen? But it flip flops alot because then we have about you and shadow sometimes popping up at the top bside wise and I think its just fun to see what fans like and enjoy from bsides! Especially with how sometimes different they can sound and it fits peoples tastes and such. For me I'm leaning towards ash and March along with shadow but hot? Omg my most overplayed song rn like YouTube is very much side eyeing me with how many times I watched the mv, dance, 8d version, everything lol xD it is a fun song and yes, I cannot help but do the body roll while humming the song and doing the dishes lolol. I believe the comeback was short? Sorry am a bit behind with svt news as I'm all over the place personally which is a shame but also I do know they have their tour so maybe that could be why as well? Despite it being short promotion wise, I am happy with it because of all the praise this album got and as mention, jun, hao and seungkwan are all getting alot of attention!! Don't get me wrong, I think everyone very much owned this era and everyone is chefs kiss but those 3 to me are the most stand outs if you will? Like their aura on stage is just SOOO fun to watch and I always hold my breath as cliche as that sounds xD (funny about the no showing with seungkwan jdjwjdjsj he showed a lil bit according to boo fans so he has joined the dark side lol) especially since like for seungkwan and jun they aren't always like, shared outside of their bubble of being performers more like the funny people with the memes ya know what I mean? (Idk if I am explaining this correctly fnsndjsj) people are being drawn into their performance and its so nice to see people going 'why hello there who is this!?' And I get all giddy and happy because its nice to see them being praised as performers! Like you said, jun's fancams are getting alot of love and as he should! Its cute to see him get flustered about the praise but I hope he feels proud of the hard work ya know? (Also jun being a fboy!?! Jesus i never knew this was a thing nd I joined the fandom during DWC lolol. Maybe I wasn't deep in the fandom and thats why? I always saw fans calling him handsome but the funny quirky guy? Which fits him i mean he is attractive but this guy just lives his life peacefully and with a hot dog machine while giving heart eyes to seventeen members but I am a baby jun bias so correct me of course!)

I saw you got tickets and so happy for ya!! Congrats to everyone that got tickets and to those that didn't, don't feel bad!! You can get them resale or its also ok if not! Doesnt make you less of a fan and they are holding an online concert as well I believe so you can try that as well! To everyone seeing svt the first time, super fun and hopefully this time we get luck with a full svt again this tour jfjsjdjs. As for me, we got tickets!! We checked both ticketmaster and vividseats on the day of general and we got better pricing for vivid so we got those there! Granted idk when my friend will get them so if anyone has advice do share! I hope we get them because I will feel bad if she paid and we don't get them. But interesting? I know from my experience at ode in Chicago when we got the day on the time they open doors, we went to our seats and got in line and lightsticks were instantly gone and sold out so I guess the best thing is to either arrive super early OR instantly go in line? I bought mine before so I'm good there!

lol i also do the point choreo whenever i'm listening to it and i'm by myself, it's just too addicting dfkjhg yeah the promotion period was a bit short most bc of concert preparation, their seoul concert is in like a week believe it or not. but it also it seems like their last several comebacks have had shorter promotional periods, which i'm guessing is a combination of them being an older/well known group + focusing more on western/international promotions in recent years

yeah i mean not everyone was explicitly calling him a fuckboy all the time. tbf i also joined the fandom in 2017, but from what i've gathered predebut through 2016 was when the worst of that kind of stuff was going on in the fandom (including other just... bad jokes lmao). but his image even back in 2017 was definitely more along the lines of "handsome guy who's really confident/narcissistic" than it was "funny goofy guy". like it's not to say that ppl didn't talk about him being goofy back then but it just wasn't his main image if that makes sense. and even if he was seen as goofy he definitely wasn't seen as innocent by the majority of the fandom back then lol

thank you! i'm not familiar with vividseats but yes hopefully it works out and you're able to go! and yeah if you want a lightstick you have to rush straight to the merch booth as soon as the doors open, no time to go to your seats first lol! but me and my friend did manage to each get one. we were near the doors when they opened but not like the first ones to go in and we went directly to the merch booth. i think there were like ~8 lines at the one booth we went to and maybe 10 or so people in each line before we got there? i was with 3 other people and only me and one other friend wanted a lightstick but all 4 of us each got in separate lines to placehold in case one moved faster. my two friends that weren't buying anything got out of line once we all started getting closer to the front. but it ended up working out and me and my friend both got lightsticks!

#melia.ask #📖 anon

[star-consultant]

Bright are the stars

You need a Beatle song that perfectly encapsulates your sign? Of course you do. (Spotify playlist) 

Aries—“I Saw Her Standing There” 

One two three FOUR! An eager and intense song for an eager and intense sign. Aries falls hard and fast, with a tendency to rash vows that everyone doubts they mean—but Aries doesn’t doubt. Paul (who later styled himself as a "ram” at a key point in his creative development) makes good on the Cardinal Fire vibe with his exuberant vocals, and John of the Aries rising contributed the street-smart innuendo that utterly makes the song: And you know what I mean. Fittingly, this song kicked off the group’s first album, which itself has plenty of Aries “HELLO I AM HERE TO MAKE A MARK ON YOUR WORLD! (like me plz ok? this is my heart and i am Doing My Best??)” energy. 

Taurus—“All I’ve Got to Do"

A song that takes its sweet time but burrows deeper than the average ear-worm into your consciousness. It’s a patient song that is unassuming but knows exactly what the hell it’s doing. The intensity builds bit by bit, so that you’re unaware when the power of the bridge comes crashing down. Describes the Taurean romantic ideal: lazy, loyal, cozy, constant, tender, and ever-so-true. Also, “All I’ve Got to Do” is featured on the second album, With the Beatles, which has plenty of other Bullish touches, noticeable even with a casual glance at the tracklist: “Don’t Bother Me,” “Not a Second Time,” and “Money (That’s What I Want).” 

Gemini—“She Loves You”

Paul is a Gemini Sun, and throughout his catalogue it shows. But perhaps he never topped the Twinniness of this energetic, optimistic, breathless, gossipy classic. It was composed “eye-to-eye” with John, a truly dual-authored song, and one the rare Beatles numbers where the two lead vocalists double up on every single line, in true (Nerk) Twin fashion. Also the first but definitely not the last of their many “third-person narratives,” Paul’s novelistic instead of confessional slant being distinctly a Gemini thing. The speaker in this one couldn’t be more enthusiastic about this relationship if it were already repaired, and he couldn’t be more enthusiastic about it if it were his. Love is great! People reconciling is great! You should be glad, dumbass! But the real corker? What makes this so Gemini that it hurts? Yoko has confirmed that in the early 70s, during her separation with John, she actually had Paul play agony aunt. Then, during that meetup in L.A. where they were last photographed together, Paul urged John to “apologize to her” and get back together... which he did. That’s right. "She Loves You” is not merely a Gemini’s song: it’s a Gemini’s life. 

Cancer—“Octopus’s Garden”

Ringo the Crab’s musically-complex fantasy about an underwater sanctuary where children are “happy and safe,” he and his lover can be together, and there’s “no one there to tell us what to do.” George (a triple Water sign himself, probably not-so-incidentally) always insisted that his best mate’s song Had Depths, and he himself supplied a lot of them: check out his lead guitar lines. They function as emotional counterpoint. When Ringo’s vocal line is especially wistful, the guitar is bright; when Ringo ends on a confident note, the guitar is quirky, ironic, even stiff-upper-lip pessimistic. Result: a shifting kaleidoscope of FEELS. The Moon approves. 

Leo—“Good Day Sunshine” 

Paul perfectly expresses his own Leo moon with a sublime, vibrant ode to laughter, love, and pride on a cloudless summer day. The bit in the lyrics about she knows she’s looking fine and I’m so proud to know that she is mine? That’s not marring the high tone of the song: that is part of the tone. Hear us roar! And by “roar” I mean "laugh and canoodle, coz Leo is about living the good life, bitches.” 

Virgo—“Please Please Me” 

What’s fair is forkin’ fair, mate! A exemplary blend of Virgo’s Mutable passive-aggressive sensitivity with its Elemental directness... half-critical, half-begging... plus the very sign-typical humblebragging. About their sexual prowess. Damn, Virgo. People forget how Earthy you really are sometimes. But here we are. In very Virgo fashion, instead of ditching the girl he’s decided to harangue her. On a more meta note, the Beatles were still studio virgins when they first began crafting this song, and it took several passes and incorporation of George Martin’s feedback before it became the bursting pop hit as we know it now. There’s that Virgo work ethic paying off.

Libra—“Strawberry Fields Forever”

The imagery of the title suggests an eternal harvest. But the star sign resemblance goes deeper than that: Always, no, sometimes think it’s me, but, you know, I know when it’s a dream. I think, er, no, I mean, er, yes, but it’s all wrong... that is, I think I disagree. Did you just hear your Libra roommate rambling after a joint, or did you listen to verse three of “Strawberry Fields”? Same difference. The song is absolutely lovely, as anything associated with the child of Venus should be, and innovative, as befits a Cardinal sign. Most of all, even in all of Libra Sun John’s weighing and weed-wandering, he knows one thing: he’s got to take someone else along with him. A companion, stat! 

Scorpio—“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”

George of the Scorpio moon and Scorpio ascendant had to really lean into this side of his nature to even get this damn track properly recorded. He resorted to the social power play of inviting Eric frickin’ Clapton into the tense post-India studio just to get Lennon, McCartney, and Martin to give his song proper Beatle recording magic. Which it deserved. The dark drama of the hard-won arrangement is the perfect Scorpio accompaniment to the moody, reflective lyrics about “all the love there that’s sleeping” in this weary world. There’s tender, horrified pity here for those who are stifled into inauthenticity: I don’t know how nobody told you how to unfold your love. I don’t know how someone controlled you; they bought and sold you... Bonus points for the Watery ‘just can’t even’-ness of not being able to so much as pick up a damn broom. 

Sagittarius—“Something” 

You’re asking me, will my love grow? I don’t know, I don’t know! A deeply instinctual lover knows that Cupid has done hit a bullseye. He remains emphatically ambivalent about the future, but he knows what he feels in this moment, and in that moment is romance and wonder that is as deep as the earth is from the heavens. Sags are intense, but of all the Fire signs they are most far-seeing and detached (due to their Mutable quality, which makes them see the world a bit more like an Air sign does). “Something” keeps trying to capture that je-ne-sais-quoi, and despite the speaker’s happiness he can’t help but circle back again and again to take another shot at that the mental target. A philosopher even when in love. Ultimately, however, he doesn’t want to leave her now... which for a restless Sag is already saying a ton.

Capricorn—“Revolution”

John let his unfashionable midheaven Capricorn off the leash with this blunt, pointed savaging of radical and violent revolutions. (Given the tanks on Tiananmen Square and the millions dead on the killing fields of Cambodia, I can’t say that his cautionary note about “destruction” and “minds that hate” was unnecessary.) Few things are more Capricorn than ‘Oh, you want my money? Yeah, first show me that you’ve done your fucking homework, mate.’ Bonus Earth points for the fact that he somehow worked sex—a lot of sex—into this political track. 

Aquarius—“Come Together”

John of the Aquarius moon’s decidedly loony attempt to write a political campaign song in order to stop Reagan. (The result was too weird for Timothy Leary, whose reaction was pretty much ‘wtf? I don’t think even I have enough residual acid in my system for this one... ’) John invokes the ideal of collaboration, but his call to solidarity is built around fantastical lyrics that no one can comprehend: He wear no shoeshine, he got/Toejam football, he got/Monkey finger, he shoot/Coca-Cola, he say/I know you, you know me... Oh, right. The lyrics contain exactly one discernible message: One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. How Aqua. Also in true collaborative Water-Bearer fashion, the arrangement really makes the song (special mention to the tight, tight work of the rhythm section). Bizarre genius that attracts a true team effort—it doesn’t get much more Aquarius than that.

Pisces— “I Want to Tell You”

The wall of sound builds up thickly enough that soon the words seem to be traveling through the sea to reach you: I want to tell you my head is filled with things to say... But when you’re here, all those words, they seem to slip away. A gorgeously, emotionally tongue-tied song... about being tongue-tied. Written by George, a Pisces Sun, this absolute mystery of a lyric is all emotion and no logic. If he seems to act unkind, it’s only him, it’s not his mind. Okay, Fishboy. Good thing the track is compellingly lovely and utterly relatable. Which suits the Pisces life exactly: ‘I don’t know what I mean, but it’s exceedingly beautiful and I want you to share it with you very, very much.’ 

#zodiac #beatles

[castillon02]

Groundhog Day AU

1. There once was a spy with a view Of an arse attached to a man, Q.  Said the spy, ‘Listen here,  We’re both sexy and queer,  Let’s find a nice room and go screw.’ 

This poetical masterpiece was more of a poetical disasterpiece.  A bullet from afar pierced Bond’s skull, offering him sweet release. 

2. There once was a spy with a chance  To make up for his first crude advance.  Said the spy,  ‘Roses are red / Violents are blue / I’d love to fuck you / What do you say, Q?’  Q said nothing, but looked at him askance. 

An arrow pierced Bond’s heart And he was back to the start. 

3. The spy started to think with his head,  And said, ‘Perhaps a nice haiku instead:  Limbs splayed across sheets,  Sowing pleasure like springtime,  Root swelling inside.’  Said Q, ‘Not quite what I’m into in bed.’ 

A piano played its last toothy refrain Crashing on Bond’s body from a passing aeroplane. 

4. An acrostic just might do the trick, Though Q’s name was as long as his dick.  

Quirky and quintessential  Unceasing    Arrogant asset  Ridiculous clothes that would look better on my floor Tricky brain steering through twists and turns   Essential excellence  Restful control  Mine to frustrate and obey  Acidic replies  Swift diligence  Territorial protectiveness  Easy to please  Really, we’d be great in bed together 

Said Q, “Oh yeah, like I’ll fall for that schtick.”  

This time, blunt force trauma  Freed Bond from his poetry drama. 

          5.   Said Bond, Maybe Concrete’s 

      The                                                     True 

Way                                                                To                                                   

Show                                                                    Q                                               

   That                                                                   My 

        Love                                                        Will 

             Stay                                          That I’m No 

                           Double-Oh Quitter 

                Said Q, his face bitter,                   

                                                 ‘You’re 

                                              just 

                                       showing 

                               your  

                           love 

                       of 

                  word 

                play.’

A train ran into Bond with a smack.  What the fuck? thought Bond. There weren’t even any tracks!  

6. By this point, Bond was quite decided---  No more would his odes be derided.  A sonnet would do  To show his dear Q  That Q’s love wasn’t only one-sided. 

Shall I compare thee to a blazing fire?  You are as hot, ashing hearts like wood.  Rough sparks do fly, as though from cars inspired  By embers burning all that prior stood.  Sometimes too close your eye of lightning shines;  Your gaze alights on traits I’d wish to dim.  So fair a nerd could hardly be inclined  To light beyond the bed of a man so grim.  Your warmth supports the ones your aegis knows, And your eternal kindling shall not fade,  Sustained by lives you’ve saved that further grow---  Don’t let this agent cast your flame in shade.  But permit the heat and scarred hands to touch; One night of fire is surely not too much? 

Q snorted. “And have you put me out the next morning, as is the fate of all fires?” 

Not all, Bond wanted to say---some hearths were tended to with care, the flame never allowed to die. But he found he was yawning, his body heavy, like the mysterious force that kept killing him was, this time, getting him ready for a long sleep...carbon monoxide poisoning, maybe, but at least that was better than the train.  

7. 

If experience had shown Bond anything, it was that hesitation and obfuscation killed, and he should go after what he truly wanted. 

“Q, I’d really like to get to know you better. After we finish this mission, would you like to take a turn around this rodent-based festival and marvel at American ridiculousness with me?” 

“That sounds...surprisingly nice. I’d like that.”   

Bond braced himself, but the only thing that hit him was the smile on Q’s face.  

#007 fest #team00 #castillon writes #groundhog day was the hardest prompt ever and this isn't perfect but it's DONE and I am GETTING those PROMPT TABLE POINTS #00Q

[ladyloveandjustice]

Winter 2020 Anime Overview: Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

Keep Your Hands off Eizouken! follows three high school girls: Midori Asakusa, Tsubame Mizusaki and Sayaka Kanamori, as they work together to create their own anime. They form a club on their high school campus, which they dub “eizouken” (the rough meaning of which is “film association”).

Awkward and spacey but endlessly creative, Asakusa takes on the job of director and also handles background animation. Mizusaki is a part-time model who has to dodge her parents disapproval over her pursuing anime, but she’s a whiz at character animation. And finally, there’s the tough-as-nails, blunt-as hell Kanamori, who doesn’t have much passion for animation itself but has a lot of passion for selling a good product, and she wrangles the two artists and reminds them of the bottom line.

Eizouken! is a vibrant artistic triumph bursting with wonder and ingenuity. I can’t really communicate just how good it is- this is truly a show that speaks to the existence of nerds, creative weirdos and (if you identify with Kanamori), the poor souls who have to deal with how ridiculous creative weirdos can be.

 The show finds great visual ways to express the creative and planning process for an enterprise, having the girls literally climb around in the settings and concept art they create, struggle to fly the planes they’ve designed, and so on. By doing this, it transforms what could have been a more standard narrative into a more unpredictable tale that switches between being a a thoughtful meditation on the different aspects of the creative and production process and a rollicking, wacky adventure story.

And it’s all carried by very strong characters. Even their designs are bold and distinct- its very rare to see a main protagonist female character in ANY sort of animation have a constant, unflattering grimace like Kanamori does, but it suits her cynical self perfectly. Eizouken! focuses on female characters, but unusually for anime, and let’s be real, animation in general, it doesn’t sand off any unique edges to make them as  generically cute’ as possible. Mizuasaki is the closest to a standard conventionally cute design, but that suits the fact she’s a part time model.  Thanks to the great animation, the girls also have a wonderful expressiveness that matches their striking designs. The great article The Glorious, Geeky. Goofy Girls of Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken goes into this more in depth. 

(As the article mentions, the storyboard director of episode 1, Mari Motohashi, said they animated the characters in a consciously gender neutral manner too, saying of the original manga that“ she liked the "gender neutral" feel of it. She described Asakusa as like an elementary schooler, Mizusaki as having some girlish aspects still left in her, and Kanamori as like an intellectual yakuza. She said that Kanamori's pragmatism was refreshing, and felt true to life regarding how the anime industry works, which may be why creative people tend to enjoy the manga. “)

It’s not just the main three! Side characters are distinctive too and unusually diverse for an anime taking place in Japan. The setting itself encompasses this diversity, you see signs in many different languages and so on. The mangaka has stated it was based on her own experiences attending a public school, saying on twitter:  "I was attending a public elementary school. There were Japanese, Chinese, Koreans, Americans, Iranians, Brazilians, Egyptians and Nigerians. Those are normal. And there were various skin colors, religions, and various names."

Of course, strong designs and animation need strong writing to match them and Eizouken! provides. All the characters are deeply loveable in their quirkiness and struggles, and they play off each other well.

Kanamori became particularly beloved with the fandom- she could have easily been a one-dimensional greedy producer type, but while she takes no shit and wants that money (oh boy does she) she also really genuinely hates seeing great small businesses fail due to poor management, and knows how harsh the world is and wants people to succeed in it.

 Also, because the student council leader genuinely smart and take-no-shit pragmatic too, her rivalry with Kanamori actually becomes fun to watch instead of being the usual generic one-sided battle we typically club anime- they’re equals.

Asakusa and Mizusaki also have really strong character focus too-for example, when we get into why Mizusaki loves animation, you find a surprising attention to detail and practicality hidden behind her starry eyed passion. One of Eizouken’s greatest strengths is how, while its brimming with joy and love of artistry, it doesn’t bullshit its audience and try to define artists in vague, idealistic terms, or act like it isn’t incredibly tough out there for animators, or anyone trying to make doing something they enjoy. The anime is defined by the tug of war between the wonders of imagination and the harshness of the actual world.

But it also acknowledges that like, sometimes high schoolers just wanna animate a girl fighting a tank with a sword cuz like how cool is that.

It makes for a message that’s still hopeful and inspirational to people who want to do what they love, but more in touch with the actual world (and the dire conditions of a lot of the anime industry, even if it doesn’t directly talk about it). Like with it’s characters, the show doesn’t sand off the rough edges of trying to make and sell art!

In the end, Eizouken! is both an ode to and a peak example of incredible creativity and all the effort that goes into getting art out there The only real flaw in it is that sometimes the info-dumps on the animation concepts can get overwhelming, but even that just means more cool stuff to comb through if you’re in the mood for it.

And there are a million strengths to offset it. Like how It’s funny and smart, striking a great balance between snappy, relatable moments and deeper musings on artistry and trying to make it in a confusing world. It’s got a lot for animation and anime geeks to snack on and is clearly made by people who both know what they’re talking about and don’t feel the need to sugarcoat it. It captures both the ridiculousness and loveliness of nerdery (you WILL see these dweebs arguing about giant robots in wonderfully/horribly specific detail). It’s a visual feast that switches art styles to express different feelings, and revels in every colorful detail. It’s full of great girls being awesome dorks.  

It’s likely to stand out as among the best of years to come and I wouldn’t be surprised to see it still going strong in “anime of the decade” lists when we hit 2030. I definitely recommend this series with no reservations- not just for artists and lovers of animation, but anyone who wants to have a blast. 

So please feel free to use this humble Tumblr post to spread the word about this show, though never forget Kanamori’s wisdom:

For we must always hold this knowledge deep in our hearts.

#keep your hands off eizouken #eizouken #sayaka kanamori #kanamori sayaka #tsubame mizusaki #mizusaki tsubame #midori asakusa #asakusa midori #anime overview #winter 2020 anime #my reviews

[rmichaelwahlquist]

It's been an intense week but I've finally been able to post all the recordings from last week's sessions for my musical takes on the #28PortraitChallenge. I hope you'll give some of them a listen, it is basically an EP worth of diverse tracks that include:

Day 8 "Adorable" – Bare Feet on the Concrete (a light, jazzy take)https://youtu.be/lJNQRoUxhQM 

Day 9 "Chaotic" – Apophis vs Mehen (some chaos + its reverse)https://youtu.be/NOola3B5-E4

Day 10 "Shy" – Carnivorous Wallflower (spiky with a soft center?)https://youtu.be/1vrTkNA8pLA

Day 11 "Loner" – L'Anchorite (something like a hermit's song)https://youtu.be/2TW4FgAtBPo 

Day 12 "Dreamy" – Arpeggiare (um...arpeggios. Augmented+M7)https://youtu.be/1SC21Vmffmc

Day 13 "Vain" – Procession of the Suit of Cups (100 plastic cups)https://youtu.be/3BpOVQLJ59k

Bonus – The Four of Cups (four plastic cups in the piano)https://youtu.be/2XWqlJ0cKj0

Day 14 "Kind" – Epicedion in memoriam S.W. (see below)https://youtu.be/h6txTmfpy9I

Day 15 "Spiritual" – Prayer on a Mountaintop (prayerful)https://youtu.be/KPVRSh_ADVo

Day 16 "Cunning" – Air of the Artful Heir (quirky)https://youtu.be/89lrXjJhwA0

I especially draw your attention to Epicedion, here's the writeup:

  While technically created as part of my ongoing #28PortraitChallenge project for February 2021 (for day 14's prompt 'kind'), I dedicate this improvisation to the memory of a relation who passed away suddenly, as I would learn later, at basically the same hour I was recording this session. They went doing what they loved - hiking, an activity they felt drew them near to God something like worshiping in a temple.

Epicidion (sometimes Epicedium if you want the more Latin word instead of Greek) is a funeral ode, similar to a threnody, dirge or other poem/song honoring the dead. I feel that the elegiac yet optimistic mood of this song fits the attitude towards death in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Death, while still always a sad loss, is nevertheless tempered by hope in the universal resurrection of the dead made possible through the resurrection of Christ. I wish that hope for all because I firmly believe it is a reality. Death is not the end and we will be with our loved ones again.

"Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection. And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them" (Doctrine and Covenants 42:45-46)

You can check out the full playlist here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLolvBA2NVD39Qx0aK7zlLnMm7mLQtqwaL

#28PortraitChallenge #piano #improvisation #wahlquist #composer #R. Michael Wahlquist #michael wahlquist

[killian-whump]

COLIN DREAM! :D

Okay, so this was a really long, really detailed and totally WILD dream, full of lots of celebrities (both real and completely nonsensical) and I was even a bit of a celebrity myself :D I’m only going to write up the parts about Colin and anything that’s required to help you understand those parts, because this beast of a dream was LONG and weird. For example, I spent a big portion of the dream dating Bruce Willis, who eventually proposed, but said “Will you marry me, Jeff?” and I was like *record scratch* “My name’s not Jeff. But THIS GUY’s name sure is!” and I pulled Jeff Goldblum, like, out of nowhere and then Bruce was like, “He’s perfect!” and they ran off together. I mean, just remember, this whole thing is a product of your pal KW’s subconscious mind. It’s probably best not to ask too many questions... I know *I* don’t...

Okay! So necessary background. The dream was taking place at what was essentially a County Fair of some kind. I was a minor local celebrity, mostly because I had a tiny bit role in something that got me associated with Brucie Poo (I kept calling him that? I dunno, don’t question it). I also had a stalker of sorts, who showed up periodically, claiming she was me and causing trouble. Also, there were some... size issues. Like, sometimes everyone was the same size, but then there’d be these windows of time where everyone morphed into different sizes based on how popular/famous they were.

So I knew Colin was at the fair, but I didn’t see him anywhere. He was listed as being an attendee, but there weren’t any events listed with him in it, so I figured he was just attending as a “normal person” and not as a “star” and someone just decided to add him to the attendee list to take advantage of his presence. But, you know, I was everywhere at this fair, sticking my nose in everything, lol, as one tends to do when it’s one’s own dream and they’re basically the star of it. So, of course, I found that rapscallion...

HE WAS LITERALLY WORKING ONE OF THE BOOTHS. Wtf, Colin. Why are you like this, even in our dreams??? It was a music/memorabilia stand, so he was selling vintage LPs and CDs and photos/posters of celebrities - mostly musicians. And he’d lightened his hair to a medium brown, and was clean-shaven and kinda styled his hair a bit different, so for some reason I thought he was “lying low” or something. So I was at the booth and he came ‘round and I was like, *quiet, conspiratorial voice* “Hi, Colin” and he was like, *equally quiet, conspiratorial voice* “Hi” and that was all, but he was ringing people up and, like, singing under his breath, kinda absent-mindedly, and he was just so chill and relaxed and had such a warm vibe, I was just... soaking it all in like a big, grinning idiot. I think I might’ve spooked him though, because he eventually skedaddled to the back of the booth, where I noticed HELEN was at, as well, and I was like “ahhhh precious Holin in my dream, I am blessed” (I tend to always be semi-lucid in my dreams, so I often know it’s all a dream).

Anyway, so while Colin was busy working literally hiding back there, I perused the wares a bit and found some EPs of The Enemies that nobody knew about, and Colin was on the liner art of them and I was like, “Oh, I better buy these...” and I was looking for more of them, because I didn’t want to miss any of them, but they weren’t filed correctly. Someone had put them in the B section - some alphabetized under “Band, The” and some sorted under “Boys, The” and it took me a minute, but then I was like, “COLIN, NO. COLIN, WHY DID YOU DO THIS. COLIIIIIIIN. You’re the only one here who calls them “the boys” or “the band” - like, you have to alphabetize them by their actual name, what, why are you like this, I love you so much” and I was almost crying, because it was so hilarious and adorable and I literally could not handle it, because it was such a Colin thing to do T_T

So then this totally super Irish fellow comes up to me, and he’s like, “Can I help you?” and I was like, “Wellllllll, I’m kinda just hanging around, because I was hoping to get to properly meet Colin and maybe get an autograph.” and the guy was like, “Oh! Oh, you’re a fan of our Col! Okay, alright, we all thought you might be a nutter...” and he was like, “Lemme go tell him.” and meanwhile, I’m here thinking, “I mean, all of Colin’s fans are basically nutters, so you weren’t wrong... but, you know, we’re good, well-meaning nutters...”

So I wait for someone to come back. Either the Irish guy or Colin. And I wait. And I wait. And somewhere in the midst of this, everyone reverted to their “fame” size and I got super big and everyone working the booth and shopping at the booth stayed small, and I was like, “Oh, good, now I can easily find Coli- Where the fuck did Colin go?” And I’ve got my magnifying glass and I’m like, “OH MY GOD, you’re kidding me, Colin, why are you still tiny?! You’re WAY bigger than I am!” and he’s like, “No, no, I’m just a normal guy” and I’m like “YOU’RE FUCKING RIDICULOUS, IS WHAT YOU ARE.” And then I felt bad for literally spying on him with a magnifying glass, so I put it away and I was just stood there, shaking my head, because WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?!

Then everything’s back to the same size again, and I’m perusing the wares some more. Suddenly, there’s Colin on a stage, and he’s introducing some band-I-don’t-know to come onto the stage, and he says “There’s a fan of mine here that I’d like to recognize...” and then he invited me on the stage to introduce the band, and just as I open my mouth to do so, my stalker suddenly does it instead, and nobody even noticed it wasn’t actually me. I was pissed, but I didn’t want to ruin Colin’s nice gesture with a scene, so I just... frowned, but let it slide. Besides, at least my stalker knew who the band was. But then Colin inerrupts the band and the song they’re playing and he’s like, “WAIT. Something’s wrong here. I wanted to let [my name was Angela in the dream - as part of my semi-lucidity, I’m often “role-playing” as people who are somehow me, but also Not Me, because it’s fun to be different people :)] do this, but someone jumped in and did it for her. So since that didn’t work... How about I sing a song I just wrote for her?”

AND I’M LIKE, OH MY GOD, WHY DON’T YOU T_T

And he starts singing this ridiculously adorable song all about ME and how awesome I am, and I’m like “I better remember EVERY detail of this, because I gotta tell everyone about it when I wake up, because this is RIDICULOUS.” And, guys, it was adorable. It was, like, this quirky sort of ode to everything about me, but done in this tongue-in-cheek way that was just kind of sassy and silly and very flattering and I was like, “YOU ARE THE CUTEST TEENY TINY MAN IN THE WORLD, I WANT TO PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU IN MY POCKET, LIKE LITERALLY” and Helen was like, “Please don’t.” and I was like, “Okay.”

So then his song was over, and Helen was teasing him about this one stanza, because she thought he was complimenting himself in it, and she was like, “So... you think you have kissable lips, huh?” and he was like, “No, no, I was singing about her, not me. It was just a line, yeah? She’s famous and known for that,” and Helen was like, “Right, but you sang it like it was about you... are you sure it wasn’t about you?” and he was like, “No, no, shut it, nooooooooo” and it was the cutest thing ever? Blessed Holin teasing T_T

Then Colin got wind that I wanted an autograph, but didn’t have anything for him to sign. I mean, I had a Tic-Tac box, lol, but who asks someone to sign a Tic-Tac box?! So he disappeared off somewhere, and it took me a second to spot him, digging through the Celebrity Photos box at the booth for a photo of himself to sign, and I was like, “WHYYYYYYY are you like this?” all over again, because I could’ve done that myself, but he wanted to surprise me T_T

So I’m standing there, waiting for him to come back, and Helen’s there, looking lovely. She’d darkened her hair a bit to a nice light brown, and was in a 50s style A-Line dress with a stylish necklace and I was silently fangirling over her, because she was SO pretty and lovely, and I wanted to say hello, but didn’t want to make her feel weird. But then she looked like she might walk away, so I spoke up and said, “Are you Helen?” And of course I KNEW it was Helen, but I didn’t want to freak her out. Well, she gets a little suspicious/wary and goes, “Could be. Why?” And I played it cool kinda, and said, “Well, if you ARE Helen, I just want you to know that I really respect and admire you, and think you’re just lovely, and I know it must be hard to have to “share” your husband with the world, and I know you’ve had some bad experiences with Colin’s fans in the past, but I want you to know that he has a lot of fans who just think the world of you and are really rooting for you and Colin in every way, and we just want you two to be happy and healthy and we wish you both all the love in the world.” and she seemed touched by it and gave me a hug <3 BLESS

Then Colin came back, and he had a really nice picture of himself, and he signed it for me and everything, and then the fair was closing, or at least their booth was closing, so there were goodbyes and hugs and then I was all alone in their booth, because apparently they all just fucked off and LEFT THE ENTIRE THING BEHIND, with all the albums and photos and everything, and that is NOT how you run a profitable business, Colin.

Anyway, the dream continued, and I turned the booth into an Irish Ski Slope for some bizarre reason, I mean, the Irish part was to honor Colin, but I’m not sure where/how the whole skiing thing came into it. I don’t know how to ski? And then Brucie Poo came back around to rekindle our romance, or at least appreciate my breasts some more (he was a big fan, apparently), and there was no more Colin... (woe).

And now I have to go eat something, because I’m STARVING!!!

Hope you enjoyed my dream :) I sure did! <3

#colin dreams #dream colin #holin #BLESS #not whxmp #kw has dreams #wholesome colin is wholesome

[louandhazaf]

I’M THE LUCKIEST BETA EVER!

Can you believe I get to work with some of the very best writers in this fandom?????

I was going to write an end of the year ode to my writers, but they’re cranking out the fics this year, so instead here’s a 3rd quarter round up. Everyone should go check out these fics because I love them all!

🐠 Never Been Knotted Harry doesn't mind that he presented as a beta. It mostly just makes his life easier and more convenient. There's just one small problem: he'd really like to be knotted. (by allwaswell16)

🍺 Breathe In, Breathe Out Louis Tomlinson begins visiting a new pub on his lunch break, mostly because he really fancies Harry, the cute, curly-haired barman. As Louis gears up to ask him out, he doesn't realise that there is a huge stumbling block in his way: Harry is taken, and by someone rather familiar.(by dinosaursmate)

👕 walk, walk fashion baby He couldn’t give a fuck about impressing these people, he’s only there to play the supportive boyfriend. But as he searches high and low for said boyfriend, one thought keeps gnawing at him, the sinking suspicion that Nick had dressed him up not so that Louis would feel more comfortable at the event, but so that Nick would feel more comfortable with Louis at the event. // Maybe this assignment is starting to fuck with his head. // Louis loves his supportive boyfriend, his passionate and interesting band of friends and coworkers, and his pair of quirky and dedicated dogs. What he doesn’t love is his job as co-editor of the Lifestyle section at a popular site aimed at millennials. But he was getting by until a new assignment landed in his lap: Let Your Boyfriend Dress You For A Week. His best mate Harry assured him it’d be a laugh, a bit of fun, but Louis was sure that Nick would dress him like an utter knob and his mates would take the piss all week. // He didn’t expect to actually learn something about himself. (by disgruntledkittenface)

🧛 we should open up (before it's all too much) “I’m not–” Harry breaks off, his voice strangled as he clutches his phone in his hand. He takes a breath and looks up, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill over at bay. “Louis, I’m not very good company these days. I–” // “Harry,” Louis interrupts, his raspy voice soft and soothing. “I get it. Sometimes it’s just easier to be alone, yeah?” // Harry nods, blinking back the last of his tears. // “But it can get lonely,” Louis states. Harry nods again even though it wasn’t a question, finally looking back at him. “So why don’t we try being alone, together?” // Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people. // Then he meets Louis. (by disgruntledkittenface)

♌️ Leo Season “Didn’t catch your name earlier?” he asks, tilting his head to go along with his lilting voice. //  “Nnrg,” Nick replies smoothly, failing to meet Louis’ hand with his own as he realizes just how garbled his smooth reply actually was. He overcorrects and vaguely slaps Louis’ hand before managing to wring it in his own, much to Louis’ apparent amusement. // Carefree. Confident. Over the top. Nick may be a bit of a disaster, but no one can deny the mood for Leo season suits him. (by disgruntledkittenface)

🧞 Rub Me the Right Way As the owner of a second hand shop, Harry comes into contact with a lot of strange and unusual objects. There is, however, a first time for everything. (by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie))

🔥 Down on the Farm 🎶🎵🎶 // Every Friday night there's a steady cloud of dust // That leads back to a field filled with pickup trucks // Got old Hank crankin', way up loud // Got coolers in the back, tailgates down // There's a big fire burnin' but don't be alarmed // It's just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm— // “Down On the Farm” by Tim McGraw (by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie))

🆘 Home Remedies Louis’ hiccups just won’t stop. Harry, his roommate and best friend, is willing to do anything to help. (by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie))

☕ Caffeine High Louis really just wants a cup of coffee. Life and Liam Payne have other plans. (by justalittlelouislove)

🌷 Stealing Flowers The one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn. (by lululawrence)

🌼 a garden in bloom Louis used to live the quiet sweet life of a small business owner in the English countryside. // Then Harry Styles came along. (by momentofclarity)

🐱 one more pine (or five) Louis is pining. Harry's cat is a good listener. (by momentofclarity)

🇸🇪 the sound of my heart needs the sound of another heart In the summer of '83, Louis is fifteen years old and in love. (by momentofclarity)

#2019 that beta life #that beta life

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Review: The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep by H. G. Parry

I am a complete magpie for books about books, bookshops, libraries and bookworms. I’m not actually a big fantasy reader nowadays but when it has a bookish slant, I’m powerless to resist.

Literary prodigy Charley Sutherland has been able to ‘read’ fictional characters off of the page for as long as he can remember. His ability has always been kept a secret from everyone, save his immediate family, including his older brother Rob. Rob is a lawyer with a nice house in Wellington, a beautiful fiancee and a normal life but he has been tasked with protecting Charley from the dangers of his ability and the real world. When a few characters begin causing trouble and talking about the arrival of a new world, it becomes apparent that Charley isn’t the only person out there who can do what he can. And that person seems to have some less than savoury plans...

This book is very witty. I didn’t laugh out loud at all but I did smile a lot several times. The humour is very subtle so I can possibly see it going over the heads of readers who aren’t familiar with the characters that appear. However, if you’re reasonably well-read in the English classics, particularly the Victorian period, you’re in for a fun treat!

Rob and Charley’s relationship is a realistic one that is lovely to watch. They bicker but they’re so protective of each other. In the midst of the uncertain chaos and impending danger, Rob decides to read more Dickens in order to be able to help his brother, which shows his loyalty and commitment to Charley’s cause.

There are several passages in the novel that read like an ode to reading and literary criticism. As a former literature student (and of course, an eternal voracious reader), I really loved this appreciation of the power of reading yourself right into a book. The brain pathways start speculating, connecting and understanding true meanings and subtexts. It’s real life magic!

The differences between the five Mr Darcys reminded me that every reader has a slightly different experience from the same book. Mr Darcy is a character who has been interpreted in so many ways. Some see him as the ultimate romantic hero. Some see him as a spoilt rude aristocrat. Sometimes he’s a secretive introvert and other times an emotionally damaged, cautious lover. These interpretations are often shaped by the reader’s own experiences, thought patterns and personal tastes, which I find fascinating. Parry offers a unique opportunity to see all of these versions of Darcy interact, which was so much fun!

We also meet versions of Dorian Grey, Heathcliff, Sherlock Holmes, The Artful Dodger, The White Witch, Matilda and of course, Uriah Heep. Obviously, these characters have never had the chance to meet in their stories but watching them team up and fight together actually provoked quite an emotional reaction in me. I was so invested in their wellbeing that I raced through the final nail-biting 10% of the book!

The Unlikely Escape of Uriah Heep is a brand new fun, whimsical adventure for book lovers. The concept is mad and incredibly unique. I went from really wanting Charley’s ability to realising the dangerous ramifications of having said power. The book reminded me of why I love reading deeply and delving into multiple interpretations of the same stories. Fans of The Invisible Library and Mr Penumbra’s 24 Hour Bookstore won’t be able to put down this quirky, literary romp.

‘You know when you read a book, sometimes, and you realise that you’ve been missing something your whole life, and you weren’t even aware, and all at once you’ve found it and are just a little bit more whole?’

#the unlikely escape of uriah heep #h g parry #fantasy #books #review #book review #bookworm

[emma-poole]

Maryanne.

You’re in my prayers every morning, she tells me on the sidewalk, casually slipping my 65 pound pitbull, Robin, a treat from her fanny pack. She tells me this every time we cross paths, which, if I am lucky, is a weekly occurrence. Maryanne should really have an ‘outfit of the day’ column in the New York Times. She is easily spotted a block away, not only by my dog’s nose, but in her perfectly coordinated clothing choices; bright red rain boots, wide-brimmed red hat, cherry earrings, and the color red lipstick that reminds me of my grandmother, who resembled Marilyn Monroe, smelled like old perfume, and never left the house without it.

Sometimes I wish I could shrink Maryanne to barbie-doll size and carry her around in my pocket. Maryanne never shames Robin for her plump figure. Her very spirit elicits joy- on evening walks in the neighborhood, when my mind jumps fifty years into the future, I think, when I grow older, I’d like to be like Maryanne.

Tell me about your outfits, I say one day, on the corner of Pinehurst and 184th. She recounts her days as a nurse in World War II, how although she loved her work, she was required to wear white every day. Now, I can wear whatever I want! She looks up at me with watery blue eyes lined in brown pencil, tiny, delicate hands roped in purple vein and beautiful. I have the overwhelming desire to scoop her into a hug.

Maryanne is a widow. She saves animals around the neighborhood and always carries treats in her purse. We commiserate about the state of the world, how humans don’t deserve dogs, and sometimes, my dating life. I often imagine her as the girl she used to be, fixed up in nursing whites, young and in love. And yet, how grateful I am to experience her in this phase of her life, just barely five feet tall, aged only by a number but towering in presence and charm.

I would like to think the universe created Maryanne as a reminder of the magic that exists here on earth. There is something about her aura- otherworldly, fairy-esque, that makes my breath catch in my throat each time I see her. As if the trees she passes suddenly begin to sway. And the light the sky emits at once becomes softer.

24 Hour Deli.

I don’t care about cohesion. Aesthetic is a non-issue. I want my salads big and overflowing, a picasso of flavor, texture, and crunch. Some (most) days I request a side of blue cheese dressing to use as dip for the potato chips I will inevitably buy no matter how many times I tell myself you don’t need them. I leave the store, plastic bag in hand, excitement stirring at the enjoyment to come- quiet room, a cornucopia of television options, peace to consume my masterpiece as if I am animal who has been deprived of food for months.

The 24 Hour Deli— I don’t know why I call it that- it’s actually called the Gourmet Deli, is approximately a one-minute walk from my apartment. Its marquee, bright, blocky and red, thrives with activity at all hours of the day. The 24 Hour Deli recently got a makeover. It now has more than five fancy gelato flavors and the miniature containers of cabot sour cream I like to destroy in one sitting. On the outside of the door, there is a clear no pets allowed sign. Yet magically, each time I walk into the deli with Robin, who suffers from separation anxiety, the cashier says nothing. Robin is no more than a sweet-demeanored curvy burrito, but being a pitbull, people tend to act strange at the sight of her.

The staff at the deli understand us. They let Robin sniff the endless line of Little Debbie snack cakes, and even sometimes offer their hand for a lick. Robin is overjoyed anytime she is allowed to enter an establishment, and this small gesture does not go unnoticed. The man who makes my salads sees me. He doesn’t laugh when he tosses in the eighteenth vegetable choice, rather tilts his head to one side and softly, almost lovingly, asks what else miss? I am always in awe watching him mix the ingredients together and making the whole ordeal fit perfectly under the flat plastic lid.

The 24 Hour Deli, like most local New York City bodegas, is more than just a deli. It is a meeting spot for conversation, gossip and respite from the street. It contains everything from beef jerky to pregnancy tests, the latter which I have sheepishly purchased among familiar faces that gave me kind smiles and a paper bag to carry it out in. It is run by a family whose hospitality has held me for the seven years I’ve lived in this gem of a neighborhood, quirky but inviting, not without its rough history and continued adoration of pungent marijuana and backwoods blunt wrappers, the latter which I have had my fair share of romantic neighborhood partners purchase before heading to my room on balmy summer evenings, knowing they’d be promised candlelight and a soft body.

Perhaps I will go to the deli soon to buy fresh flowers for my bathroom. They are not the best quality, but I like the way they look perched in my windowsill, trying mightily to stay alive.

The ladies at the Nail salon.

I have a paper card in my wallet that keeps track of the number of times I get my nails done. It is a rewards card, promising half off after I have completed six sessions. Over the last seven years, I am probably on my tenth card. The ladies at Diamond Nails know me by name. They compliment my hair, smile when they see me walking Robin, and massage my shoulders generously. They are motherly and kind, always assuring me of my nail polish color choice and warmly welcoming me into their establishment for however long I choose to stay.

I often get my nails done on days I feel sad. The budding of a new relationship gone awry, boredom at the state of things, the staggering injustice of healthcare in this country. Maybe I will get a manicure! Suddenly I am walking out the door, a quick left, the smell of acetone.

The ladies are drinking coffee. I smell takeout in the back room. I grab a handful of People magazines, propping myself in the oversized cushy chair and its complementary foot basin that will transform my toes into appealing seashells. Two women walk in- one is disabled and blind; her aid walks beside her. I take in this odd pair and am immediately brought back to my childhood, accompanying my dad to the house for the deaf he briefly worked at. My memories are mini movie reels- Sheri, a redhead, walking on the treadmill, calling my father Toli instead of Tony, over and over. My six-year old eyes, wide and observant, taught not to judge but understand. The blind woman chooses hot pink for her nails. The ladies tell her it is a lovely choice.

One day, while waiting for my nails to dry, my scalp tingles as hands weave in and out of my hair loops. I think perhaps I am receiving an extended shoulder massage, and close my eyes. The fingers move swiftly, repeating patterns and directions. I realize my hair is being braided, unsure as to why or if I should interject. I decide to let it happen. When she is finished, she proudly holds up a mirror so I can see the back. Beautiful! I reply. I laugh on my way out the door- amused that I came in for a manicure and left with a french braid. One month later, it happens again. I accept that it’s a package deal, and look forward to the next time.

I don’t know the lives of the ladies beyond the four walls of the salon, but I would like to imagine that they are filled with loving families, and warm homes that nurture them after a long day’s work. Their work is so giving, and far underappreciated. Having one’s nails done, similarly to getting a haircut or sitting at a bar nursing a cocktail, is never just about the monetary exchange. It is therapy. And the ladies, with their strong hands and tender demeanors, are my therapists.

Do yourself a favor and go to Diamond Nails. Make sure to tip generously.

An Ode to Morning Coffee.

If I collected all of the money I spend each day on neighborhood coffee, I’d have a jar amassing thousands of dollars by now. This is both depressing and impressive; on one hand, I’ve procured an awfully expensive habit. On the other, I honor my commitment to ritual. It all began when I adopted Robin. Robin wakes up each morning around eight am. It takes me approximately thirty minutes to make the bed, shower, get dressed, throw together some hair and makeup, and toss my keys in the mini purse I carry, along with plenty of poop bags and of course, coffee money.

Hudson Heights is lucky to have a rich coffee culture. There are multiple cups of coffee on each street corner, from the rudimentary but delicious cafe Bustelo at the bodega (low on ambiance, strong on flavor) to the cozy hole-in-the-wall, beloved Cafe Bunni. Nestled on the corner of 187 and Pinehurst, Bunni is a locally owned Ethiopian dream, serving everything from feta scones to frothy oat milk lattes. Tactically, it is the place I choose most often, mostly because Robin can rest her loins on the bench outside while watching my every move once I am in line to order.

Aesthetically pleasing bags of coffee beans line the cafe walls. Baked goods are displayed at the register, flirting with their puffed edges and swollen buttery insides. A long, communal wooden table is the main source of seating in this intimate space, as well as a window-seat bench. Robin, my oversized croissant, is perfectly visible on the other side of the glass. The whites of her eyes loom above seated coffee drinkers.

Cafe Bunni is approximately two hundred steps from the apartment of the first guy I dated when I moved to this neighborhood. He lives with his mother and drives an obnoxiously yellow pick-up truck. He asked me out while I was carrying laundry home. I should have known better. I was twenty-five and easily wooed by street flattery. He was twenty-one and desperate for attention. Bunni is a wonderful place to duck into when you spot ex boyfriends you’d rather not interact with. It is large enough to blend you into other bodies, and small enough that the whole event is not a big to-do. On many a summer morning, my eyes still waking to the day’s light, I have sought out anonymity in a paper coffee cup.

Perhaps my favorite fixture of Bunni is the way it inhabits the neighborhood. Between these walls, customers feel the understated, off-beat energy of the Hudson Heights residents. It is a tiny artist’s colony smack in the middle of a spa and a chinese restaurant. A place for those of us with less traditional jobs to post up, writing our dreams down in journals, people watching to feel less alone. We can sit there for hours, seen and supported by the comings and goings of both the patrons who fill the space and the baristas who are its undercurrent.

It’s difficult for me to pass Bunni without purchasing something. Sometimes I buy iced coffee just to have a cup in my hand while walking down the sidewalk. Other days, I never make it in, choosing to sit on the bench outside while watching the bustle of foot traffic go by. I once met a lady there who collects and sells crystals. She seemed a bit lonely, and happy to talk to anyone who’d listen. I complimented her necklace. We shared stories of moving to this neighborhood, coffees in hand, until Robin licked my ankle, alerting me it was time to go home.

Fort Tryon Park.

Imagine a maze. Giant and sprawling with lush greenery, gothic stone arches and secret roundabouts. Large enough to get lost in, small enough to find your way out.

Things I have done in Fort Tryon Park:

Cry. Clean up poop. Sing. Pick grass from the lawn while staring at the Hudson River. Smell flowers. Unintentionally photobomb a photoshoot. Meditate. Light sage. Sunbathe. Witness a quinceanera. Smoke weed. Talk to strangers. Watch a man masturbate behind a tree. Breathe deeply. Drink coffee. Pet dogs. Think about my life. Sit. Wait. Walk.

When I describe Fort Tryon Park to, say, a downtown person, I feel suddenly blessed, as though I am the keeper of a privileged secret that only a part of this city knows. Fort Tryon doesn’t belong to me, but it feels like it does. It is where my neighborhood ends, and Narnia begins.

On a good day, the park is about a fifteen minute walk North from my apartment. Each time we visit, I coerce my dog into posing for pictures. In the Fall, our earth-toned scarves blend in with the foliage; blankets of copper leaves illuminate a walking path, boots deliciously crunching with each step. In the summer, walks last up to two hours, trudging slowly from humidity and necessary water breaks. The park is both home, and home away from home. It receives me however I choose to show up. Nothing makes me feel more like a local than giving a visitor directions to the park, or its love child, the Cloisters. A simple head nod or wave in the right direction sends them on their way. I have paid forward Hudson Height’s most prized possession. My good deed for the day is done.

Years back, during one of my first visits to the park, I met a beautiful young woman roaming the grass with her giant snow angel, Zoe, and miniature tan taco, Zeta. Zaza, the owner of the eccentric dog duo and I became fast friends. We continued to meet for iced coffee and park walks. We watched my dog kill a gopher, and cried with hands held firmly as we heard it take its last breath. Meeting this Z trio changed my life; in the coming years, I would no longer feel like a mere resident of the neighborhood, but a fixture, with beautiful, lifelong friendships and last minute dinner dates to Refried Beans for oversized burritos and chips and salsa.

I am convinced the juju that permeates Fort Tryon is emboldened by the people who inhabit it each day. Much like the park itself, we span an array of colors and history, stories that give us character and scars to prove that although our lives haven’t been easy, we show up each day to smell fresh air and tilt our heads back to the sun. Thank you, Fort Tryon, for being my heartbeat at the tip of Manhattan.

The Lookout on Chittenden.

You know in the movies, when the grieving family member goes into the hospital chapel to pray by themselves? The lookout on Chittenden Avenue is Hudson Heights’ very own outdoor church, where on any given day, individuals can be spotted looking out the river’s horizon, asking for guidance from whatever higher power they believe in.

At least that is what I do. Usually at sunset, and most always, with Robin. Picking her up requires a deep squat and a tight grip around the underbelly. However, once I have it, we perch like bobbing lily pads in the ocean, peering out at New Jersey, waiting for a gust of wind or the smell of someone’s fried chicken to waft toward us.

The lookout is the kind of friend who doesn’t require every day interaction, but will always show up when you need them. Tucked away beneath a small hill, its presence is found rather than known, adding to its charm. Sometimes I imagine the narrative of the people who perch there alongside me- who is breaking up with who, who misses their mother, who also talks to the sky. Do they seek refuge here the way I do? At times not knowing what is being sought out but pulled to arrive anyway?

Or the residential voyeurs of the block, who put up fliers warning against drugs and littering, Chittenden’s silent army. My heart goes out to them. They know the real estate they live upon is neighborhood currency; they are only trying to preserve it.

I recall a visit to the lookout after a particularly painful heartbreak. The setting sun was so beautiful, it hurt. I couldn’t fathom how the world continued on as mine closed in on me. I knew in that moment that I would be ok, as I have always known, deep in my bones, that my small world spins within something much greater than me. It’s the staggering irony of life, that beauty can be found anywhere, even in the midst of agonizing pain. Nature has always known better than us. Embrace change, she whispers, and you will experience awe each day. It’s hard to walk yourself home with a broken heart. But then the sun sets. The skyline sparkles beneath a black sky. I smell the changing of seasons as the breeze hits the trees, releasing a single leaf on the ground beneath me.

Charles.

Charles has short white hair, olive skin, and piercing blue eyes. He is long-limbed and svelte, appearing almost fragile. Charles wears neutral colors and has long, elegant hands. He likes to eat dinner solo at the neighborhood restaurants, and always says hello to my dog.

I wonder often about Charles’s backstory. I have never asked, though I am confident if I did, he would share freely. There is a sadness in his demeanor that makes me want to reach my hands inside his chest and untwist the hurt. It is always the sad people who are kind, I’ve noticed. I have no idea if Charles is sad or not. Maybe melancholy is a better word. Or maybe it’s the way the deep lines around his eyes make him look like an etched painting, and the tiny blue half moons beneath them reflect longing, or wisdom.

I must have passed Charles at least ten times on the street before asking him his name. Now, I can’t stop using it. Hi Charles, I smile, walking down the giant stairs on 181st. He is on a bench with coffee, reading a newspaper. How’s it going, Charles? At 181 Cabrini, a spread of charcuterie and cheeses half eaten at his table. Robin sits down on his large feet. He pats her head. Oh, hi Charles! At the park, outside the laundromat, on my way to work.

I wonder how long he has lived here, what he does all day, if he has some large sum of money he lives on that pays for all his dinners out. I wonder if he is happy dining alone, savors it ritualistically, as I do my morning cup of coffee or the heady aroma of fresh cut flowers. Or if he longs for a partner, relying on the immersion of himself in the neighborhood as a way to feel more connected and less alone.

Of course, I could ask him. I think he would probably be flattered to know I’m thinking this much about the intricacies of his life. And yet. The mystique of not knowing somehow compels me. I have always imagined the inner lives of strangers; and though I am a truth seeker in nearly all aspects of my life, I am not sure I need to know the answers to the stories my brain creates. It’s like...foreplay. Or the titillating anticipation of an event nearly being better than the event itself. The hot sting of desire felt on the lips before the kiss. Must we spill over all our secrets? Or is the pleasure of them contained in the withholding?

The last time I saw Charles, he was sitting alongside a homeless man with pock-marked skin and gentle eyes. Another familiar face. They appeared to be friends. I smiled at the man, and said hello to Charles. Perhaps I will work up the courage someday to ask what brought him to this city. For now, I am grateful he is here, embedded into the scenery I call home.

Bennett Park.

Fun Fact- you’re standing on the highest natural point of elevation in New York City, I tell my soon-to-be boyfriend at the time. He is spending the weekend with me. It is our first time meeting each other in person. Ha.

I have probably spent more time in Bennett Park than any other place in Hudson Heights. When I first moved to the area, it was an all day stomping ground for the boys who perched on stoops and asked if I was from the heights. I’d walk Robin at midnight, letting her run laps in the grass while they rolled fresh blunts and skateboarded badly. I didn’t often take part, but I loved the camaraderie of these gatherings, how the park always felt like it belonged to someone, and in turn, that I belonged to it.

Bennett Park turns into a carnival on weekends; kids appear from every direction, dogs take refuge under shaded trees, the ice cream truck’s melody echoes in our brains- da da da da da da dum dum dum DUM dum dum. Orthodox Jewish women sit in clusters on the grass, dressed in long skirts and soft hats. I wonder if they know I am one of them, that despite my tattoos and nontraditional dress, I, too, can chant Hebrew prayers in my sleep, and recognize Saturday as their Sabbath. That I see a part of them in a part of me, though I will always wonder if they are happy, or have dreams bigger than motherhood, or spend moments in solitude wondering of a different life. The air smells of weed and cut grass. Children squeal on the swings. Someone plays hip hop out of a loud speaker while a parent bandaids a scraped knee. We coexist in our separate corners, together.

That boyfriend never visited my neighborhood again, though he did love the park and my attempt at impressing him with trivia. We made out on the grass under a moonlit sky, the boys of years past watching in the background, their silhouettes only vaguely familiar now. I was in love with the idea of him more than the individual I never truly had the chance to get to know, except through distance, and time zones, and continents. The agony of physical separate-ness gnawed at me; I fell asleep for an entire year existing on memories of a savored few nights together and future projections of what our life could be.

And so Bennett Park became my steadfast companion to get through each day. Every morning, with a cup of coffee and Robin at my feet, I walked aimlessly around its perimeter, noticing what was familiar- Bench. Tree. Water fountain. Rock. Lending Library. The grass where Robin likes to roll.

Ritualistic habits, I have learned, are a form of meditation. You can mend a broken heart by entering the same place each day while watching your perception of it slowly change. One day, almost magically, the flowers appear more potent, the sun, brighter, and your breath, which has been lodged somewhere between grief and hope, escapes into a singular, joyous exhale.

[letterboxd]

Murder, He Wrote.

“They say casting is 90 percent of directing and it was really true in this case.” Knives Out writer and director Rian Johnson tells us about the intricacies of whodunits, the joys of over-analyzing movies, and—yes—Star Wars.

From Hercule Poirot’s debut in an Agatha Christie novel in 1920, to the hard-boiled detectives of the 1930s, to the Pink Panther comedies, the whodunit was a perennially popular film genre—until its decline in the 1980s, when true-crime re-enactments took over. But, with Knives Out, writer/director Rian Johnson (Looper, Star Wars: The Last Jedi) is on a mission to reaffirm the whodunit’s rightful place on the big screen—and casually reinvent the form while he’s at it.

Knives Out has a gobsmacking ensemble, with Christopher Plummer (as writer Harlan Thrombey, the victim), Ana de Armas (as Marta, Thrombey’s nurse and confidant), Daniel Craig (as Benoit Blanc, the famous private detective who shows up to query Thrombey’s apparent suicide), and Lakeith Stanfield (as the investigating Lieutenant Elliott). Making up Thrombey’s extended, entitled family are Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Chris Evans, Michael Shannon, Toni Collette, Riki Lindhome, K Callan, Katherine Langford and Jaeden Martell—all well fed by his wealth and determined to protect their piece of it.

It’s a Rian Johnson movie, so Noah Segan shows up as well, in perhaps his meatiest role yet, as a cop working with Stanfield. There’s also a delightful cameo from Frank Oz.

Rian Johnson directs Ana de Armas on the set of ‘Knives Out’.

Despite the lack of big-screen whodunits of late, there’s no shortage of audience enthusiasm for them, as evidenced by our ‘Murder Mystery’ Showdown, a great starting point for anyone looking to delve into the genre. Letterboxd members who have already seen Knives Out are very much enjoying what they see, with the film boasting a giant 4.2 average rating (at time of writing).

This is one of those films where you can just tell how much fun the cast is having, an aspect that Letterboxd member Wes nails in his review: “I’d really, really, really like to believe that Rian Johnson gathered all these actors in this giant house, hid some cameras everywhere, hit record, and none of what we saw was fictitious.”

Demi Adejuyigbe writes—in his charming Letterboxd review of the time he lunched with Johnson (!)—that the film is “absofuckinglutely phenomenal”. He marvels at how Knives Out stays one step ahead of what we expect from a whodunit: “How do you fool an audience that has come to be fooled? Johnson is so deftly able to get that joyful, wondrous reaction out of me by expertly controlling every aspect of the script and the direction in a way that makes it clear he sees the entire process as a symphony that he’s conducting, where the audience is just another instrument being played.”

Or perhaps Patrick Willems best encapsulates the joys of the film when he writes that Knives Out is “a movie as good as its sweaters (the sweaters are excellent)”. (The most popular sweater has its own story, here.)

When we got in a room with Rian Johnson recently, we naturally wanted to learn how he juggled such an impressive ensemble whilst navigating the twists, turns, and more twists of Knives Out’s plot.

Chris Evans and Ana de Armas wearing sweaters, Rian Johnson not wearing a sweater, on the set of ‘Knives Out’.

You’ve often talked about your lifelong love of the whodunit genre. How did you go about making your own? Rian Johnson: It’s very interesting, the whodunit genre. It’s one of my favorite genres. I love all the things about it. I also kind of agree with Hitchcock. Hitchcock hated the whodunit genre. To Hitchcock, the danger of the whodunit is: it’s a lot of build-up for one big surprise at the end, and that’s not very satisfying or fun. That’s why he was all about suspense. He would give the audience information early and then you’re in suspense and not just crime-solving. He would also mislead the audience, so you’d think you’re getting all the information early. And enough so that you’re leaning forward, you’re not sitting back. That’s Hitchcock’s whole deal.

So for me, what was interesting is: can I put the engine of a Hitchcock thriller in the middle of a whodunit? Have a whodunit that then turns into a Hitchcock thriller that turns back into a whodunit? That was kind of the starting point for me, from a genre-wonk point of view.

So then I started filling out, okay what would that actually mean? I’m talking around it because I don’t wanna spoil anything, but, okay if we did this and then that could be interesting. And then I started zooming in bit by bit and filling out what characters I would need for what plot points. All the details come later but it’s as ‘big picture’ as that.

Jamie Lee Curtis, Christopher Plummer, Don Johnson and Michael Shannon in ‘Knives Out’.

Were there ever any alternative outcomes in play? Not really, because I didn’t really work, like, “if this happens, then that happens, then that happens”. I worked it like a satellite map. I zoomed back. I work in little notebooks and I have to draw one line and see the entire plot along that line. So it’s not like a game of Clue where I can pick out different solutions at the end; it’s kind of set because the shape of the whole thing determines a different kind of ending from the very inception of it.

Watching this, I thought about your film The Brothers Bloom, as that’s another ode to a somewhat specific genre—the con-artist film—in which your affection for that kind of film was also evident. How challenging is it to write and shoot films in genres you grew up loving? Any time I’m attacking a genre it’s because I deeply, deeply love it. The heart of it for me is always trying to distill the thing I love about it and set that as the goal-post and then find my own way to it. Whether it’s the con-man movie with The Brothers Bloom, or Star Wars as a genre, or this, it’s always about trying to get to the heart of what I love about something and then trying to put that on the screen so the audience will have as pure an experience of it as possible. And sometimes to give the audience the purest experience, you have to shake it a little bit, because… we’ve seen so many versions of it over the years that the audience can kind of ignore it. So sometimes you have to put it in a different context, like with Brick, with film noir or something. But the intent is always to give the audience the most sharp and vivid experience of what’s at the heart of it for me.

This film is a blockbuster of chemistry. Was it difficult to cast? Once we got Daniel on board, no. Once he was the centerpiece, I think everyone wants to work with him so it was like a snowball. Because then we got Michael Shannon, and everyone wants to work with him. And Lakeith Stanfield. So, no, the cast came together very, very quickly, just like everything else in this project. With these actors, my job is easy. They show up on set, they clicked in so easily. They’re such pros. They say casting is 90 percent of directing and it was really true in this case.

Lakeith Stanfield, Noah Segan and Daniel Craig in ‘Knives Out’.

Speaking of Daniel Craig, his character is a microcosm of the film in that he is not in any way like any detective that has come before, yet you cannot help but think of precedents. Were you consciously trying to make him unlike Hercule Poirot? When I started writing, I actually kinda got myself in trouble because I was thinking too much about Poirot. I love Poirot so much and I think I was thinking too much like: how do I make my Poirot? And so I started doing all this sort of quirky stuff, and throwing all these quirks in there, like maybe he has an eye patch and a peg leg maybe. It was just silly. And so finally I said “this is so stupid”, and I pulled all that stuff and I just said: “I’m gonna write this character very straightforward. The way that he needs to be for the script. And I’m gonna give him a Southern accent, because then he’s a fish out of water in New England. And then whoever I cast, I’m gonna believe that they’re gonna inhabit that character in such a way that he’ll be unique.”

I think what Daniel found—that is exactly what is at the heart of Poirot—is Daniel found kind of what’s funny about the character. Beyond the accent. He found the self-inflated, clownish aspect of him, while still maintaining a humanity and an intelligence, which is really what Poirot is. It’s why Peter Ustinov is my favorite Poirot—he gets what’s funny about the character. And like Columbo or like Miss Marple or any of the great fictional detectives, it’s that element that makes you not quite take him seriously until it’s too late and they’ve solved the whole case. I think that’s what Daniel keyed into more than anything else.

This feels like a film that people are going to pore over the details of, as they did with Looper. I love it because that’s part of what I love about those kinds of movies. First of all, let’s separate them, because with time-travel movies, the notion that a time-travel movie can make sense is absolute nonsense. So time travel is much more like the spells in Harry Potter than science, and anyone who thinks otherwise is fooling themselves. Except maybe Shane Carruth. Shane is the one person who can actually figure out time travel. Everyone else, it’s kind of like a fantasy element more than anything else.

Ana de Armas in ‘Knives Out’.

So with Looper, I felt like I had to have it make narrative sense, but I didn’t feel the pressure of it having to work in every little detail, because it can’t. Whereas, it’s a little different with a whodunit because every screw has to be tightened and I can’t leave any loose ends. I do want people to be able to re-watch and dig in. But I’ll be a little more sad if they find things that don’t make sense. I’m sure they will, but it’ll actually make me a little sad if they do, because I’ll be like: “I messed up there”.

How do you feel about your films being subjected to that kind of scrutiny? I think it’s fun! That’s the thing: for a certain kind of moviegoer, that’s the pleasure you get—it’s almost like the kid who if you hand them a radio, you’re gonna wanna take it apart. If that’s what someone loves about watching a movie then I think that’s fantastic. I’ve done that with certain films. I’ve watched them over and over and tried to analyze, so I get [that] that’s part of the pleasure of it.

How are you feeling about your Star Wars experience? As a filmmaker, as a Star Wars lover, it was the best experience of my life. Everything about it. Writing it. Making it. The people I got to meet. The places I got to go. The experience I had putting it out. The last two years interacting with the fans has been so rewarding and so fantastic.

I feel like I always have to say that the bad part of that gets written about a lot because it’s interesting to write about. From being in the middle of the hurricane, I can tell you that 95 percent of my interactions with fans are absolutely lovely. That’s not to say they all even like the movie—some of them don’t, or some of them have issues with the film—but they’re all engaged and respectful and so deeply engaged in it in a way that when you make movies you only dream that people will engage with something that you made on that level. So no, for me, the whole thing top-to-bottom has been the most beautiful experience I can possibly imagine.

Rian Johnson directs Joonas Suotamo on the set of ‘Star Wars: The Last Jedi’.

Something that I know in my bones from being a Star Wars fan since I was five years old: everybody has a slightly different version of what Star Wars is to them, absolutely. That’s why I’m excited that stuff like [new Disney+ series] The Mandalorian can exist. The more Star Wars stuff we make, the more there’s gonna be a spectrum that gives different people the things that they want. But we also have to recognize that nothing is gonna give everybody what they want, and somebody is always gonna be upset.

What George Lucas did originally was make a movie that was straight from his heart, and expressed exactly what this world was to him. And expressed emotional truths in this world in a way that was resonant for him personally. I feel that every filmmaker who comes to Star Wars, that’s their job. Their job is not to take a survey and to see what is going to have the broadest demographic appeal. Their job is to speak from their heart and make a thing that resonates with what Star Wars is for them. And I think the more diverse filmmakers we have doing that, the more diverse Star Wars movies we’ll have, the more people will hopefully be happy and the less yelling there’ll be all around.

‘Knives Out’ is now in theaters. Comments have been edited for clarity and length. With thanks to Studiocanal.

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