#im not musically inclined so i could not tell you what thats called

[yixiangs]

finally listened to the tiot highlight medley i think goosebumps is my favourite song so far

#rock thang sounds insane too #my jaw dropped when the beat did that little thing before the chorus #im not musically inclined so i could not tell you what thats called #so seated for the full album #dabae speaks #tiot

[honeeslust]

Toji Fushiguro | The box

🖤 I'll be honest. I drew inspiration for this after watching Dexter. But initially,  there was that comment from a reader on wattpad asking for a fic where homeless Toji fucks us in a box.

… Also, @biscuitsngravie @blkkizzat @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen have me stuck on Toji who calls you mama/mamas. Like are you kidding me?? I'm folding immediately!

Anyway….

Challenge accepted!

🖤I suck at TW’s but maybe this Toji is manipulative and posessive. Its not crazy but just know its implied.

🖤 WC 3K+ (it’s a bit jumpy cause i really didn’t proof read. My bad. Im tired 😩)

Wait!!

is that..?

No that can't be.

I'm trippin'.

In all of .5 seconds, that's what races through your thoughts when you caught sight of him. No way that Adonis-looking creep who just winked at you was your toxic AF ex.

The one who got your car towed last year, maxed out your discover card and put your boss in a cast for 6 weeks. All that after you had bailed him out for. Although…your boss might've had that coming to him.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He just had to be at this bar of all places?

Eyeing... NO!  Eye fucking you, as you moved your body to the music. How long had he been watching you?

Toji stood back, confident that he had stolen your attention away from your date. He hated the way he was touching you, but wouldn't cause a scene. Not unless he had to.

He preferred this anyway. He knew what he was doing. Getting under your skin a little before dragging you back into the 3ring circus that was his life. How could you blame him? You'd left him so suddenly and he couldn't handle that. No! He refused to handle that.

He just wanted you to know how bad he wished he could take back all the dumb shit he put you through before. It wasn't his fault. The only reason he maxed out your card gambling was to get the cash he needed to buy back that Cadillac Deville he stole from your uncle. He didn't know it was a prize winning collectors item. too bad you never gave him a chance to say that.

Meanwhile, there you are on the dancefloor. Acting as if you didn't care.

Nope! There was no familiar pang of excitement rippling through you. There wasn't a need to feel those hands on you instead of the ones that were touching you now. You were easily ignoring that tight black tee he wore. Your eyes were not drawn to that faint line running down the center, barely concealing that line between his abs that you loved to carve out with your tongue.

Pathetic. You're fucking pathetic y/n. Thats what you thought as you ground your hips against the guy you were dancing with, wishing you had any substantial amount of will power in you to just disappear out the back door.

Shiiit! Suddenly the hands on your waist brought your attention back to them. Ugghh. you weren't in the mood to dump him. You were more inclined to hurry this along to let your ex scratch that itch that only he could.

Maybe......

After all, he didn't know where you lived now. Just one night wouldn't hurt. Yeah. Fuck it!

Uhh, my friends here, sorry I gotta go. you hollar  into your dates ear.

As what would likely be the dumbest decision you could ever make had your feet moving in his direction. You could almost see the 4th wall breaking and a little blurred out blip of yourself screaming over your shoulder, look at this big bobble headed ass dummy!! Bitch! What the fuck are you doing?

You ignored the blaring red flags and ear ringing sirens going off in your head and proceeded to exit the sea of swaying bodies.

You make your way to the bar where he sits, a conceited grin on his face, that scar on his lip pulling to the side damn near making you forget just how much he was all kinds of wrong.

He stares you down, not a hint of shame in his eye as his enamoured gaze swept from your lips to your chest and down to your hips.

He pulls you into a soul pleasing hug,  chrushing your body against his, nuzzling his nose into your neck and telling you how good you looked. You shuddered, feeling a tattooed hand possessively gripping your ass and squeezeing too tight.

Cmere. Missed you mamas.

He smells all cedery and sweet, probably some expensive shit he stole from someone elses gym bag. Ether way, the scent clouded your judgement with the memories of the damage he could do with just that hand alone.

He'd once clocked a guy so hard he swallowed his own teeth. You remember the way he just couldn't stand it when someone thought they could have what was his. It was brutal. But damn, that look in his eye was everything... fuck.

He apologized for that didn't he?

If memory served, and it did now that he was standing in front of you looking all kinds of tall tan and handsome.

Yeah, he did. With his tongue until you thought your heart would actually stop if he didn't.

Now you were thinking, Was what he did really that bad? It was just uncle Earl. Who didn't even come to your 3rd grade dance recital cause he had the flu.

Your morals had died about two shots ago and what ever self preservation you had left had fucked right off into oblivion.

Now, instead of that nervous ache in your gut telling you he'd hurt you all over again, there was a fire burning. The flames stoked by the thrill of not knowing how this would end up. But you simply didn’t care. As long as tonight, you ended up on underneath him.

Hmm. If that dress was any tighter I might have to actually get a fancy job to buy you more.

Maybe you should just buy a shirt that ain't so fucking tight it's screamin I don't fit you!

Ouch he mocks you, laughing at your terrible dis. You're agitated already. Just what he hoped for.

Hmm. He nods drawing his lower lip under his teeth.

That's too bad.

What's that? You asked leaning to hear him over the music.

It's a shame. He ain't fuckin' you right. I can tell.

'Fuck. Why did he have to say that? Here we fuckin go!'

Excuse me. The fuck is that supposed to mean?

Half yelling, your world tilts a little and suddenly you're aware of the light buzz that seaking up on you.

You need some dick just ask.

Your eyes rolled skyward. His smart ass mouth getting to you more than you expected it too. You were getting ready to tell him exactly how far he could fuck off. But you froze, feeling Tojis eyes still on you like all he was waiting for was even the slightest indication that you were ready.

You don't know shit Toji.

You gonna leave your boyfriend hangin like that? He teases.

You follow his gaze to the guy across the way who was likely realizing your "friend" was stealing you away. Damnit! You didn't mean for that to happen like that.

Sorry, you mouth out with a shrug before turning your attention back to the dark haired man damn near breathing down your neck.

Everything happening was so irrational. You were imagining the taste the cheap beer on his breath. Normally the prickly ale scent would turn your stomach, but now you were about 30 seconds from letting him drag you off into one of these restrooms. Just to get a taste of it off his lips.

What's the matter? Can't decide on which it's not you it's me speeches to give him?

Fuck You! you blurted out fighting the smile coming to you lips.  You think you know every fucking thing, thats your fuckin problem.

His laugh rumbles in his chest. That smile too beautiful to accept coming from such an asshole.

He leans in, placing his hand under your bar stool and pulling it closer. A sly hand slips over your thigh, touching just under the hem of your dress. Please do. He teases, brushing his finger back and forth until your pulse staggered behind your ribs. Tell me how I'm wrong then, mamas.

First of all I ain't fuckin him. You breathed out when you fully intended on yelling it. You assumed wrong. That's not my man.

Yeah? He says with a darker look about his eye, causing a moment of prolonged eye contact. Ok. Guess I stand corrected then.

Guess you do! You agreed, the look you gave telling him everything your body already did.

You ready to go?

You scoff, playing off your immediate will to jump up and down screaming yes.

God you're such a fuckin creep. Does this usually work for you?

I think we're both about to find out.

I can't stand you. Is what you said but you were making your way toward the door with him.

Once you're out of the building his impatient lips descend upon you. Hungrily and breathlessly.

Why don't you get us an uber so we can go to your place. He says lining your collar bone with kisses.

You almost pulled your phone out. But for once you listened to that voice. Stick to the plan. He doesn't know where you live so keep it that way.

You push against his shoulders, you get the uber. And we're going to your place.

I'm banned from Uber he says moving his hips against yours causing you to wrap your legs around him.

God Toji you accidentally moan when he clutches your nipple between his teeth and follows the searing pain with his tongue. He carries you along, kissing and marking your neck and chest as you clung to him.

Fine. Your choice. We're not far anyway.

What does that mean?

His mouth is so good to you, and your overly sensitive body to really question anything. He kisses and nips, leaving you to barely notice the awkward empty hallway he sneaks you into.

Hold it. Let me get the key. He says setting you on your feet. Imagine your surprise when he goes for the padlock in the door.

The fuck is that. You say gasping for air as your eyes struggle to focus. The hell are we??

Toji, are we in a fucking storage unit??

You ask eyes still searching the place.

He cups your face, kissing your lips once again. Shut up. Once I'm fucking you it'll feel like the ritz baby.

He raises the sliding door and the loud ricochet makes you jump as you plucked your lips away from his.

Wait. There's no fucking way Im about to do this. Am I? That's what you said grinding against his palm the moment he shoved his hand between your legs, expertly nudging that answer towards a yes.

Every moment you stood there questioning how low you were setting your standards was a second too long for him. You got away from him and now he needed to show you exactly why you found your self ready to be slutted out in a fucking box.

As soon as your foot crossed into that tin square, he shut the gate behind you. He had a point to make. That much was evident in the way he shoved your skirt up over your ass and dragged your pussy into his face where he inhaled the scent of your arousal.

His nose tickles, making you giggle out loud.

Do that again. -shit makes me want to fuck you till you can't stand pretty slut.

his words registered as a million little tingles in your core. All of which needed to be sought after, one by one until everything wrong about this felt right.

He tears  the lacy thong from you waist. Slipping his fingers through the wetness, he drags a slick path between your folds. Making your soft moans rattle from your chest no matter how hard you tried to quiet them.

Mmmmhmm. I knew you missed me. He groans shoving his digits inside you.

Fuck y/n you're tight. When's the last time you fucked.

Your cheeks burned as you looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you hadn't been with anyone since him.

You'd be able to take me by now if you hadn't left me. He rasped out as if he wasn't damn near busting out of his pants at the chance to eat you six ways to Sunday.

He brings his tongue down gently against your clit at first. Giving soft intenttional flicks meant to test how sensitive you were. You writhed and twisted, shivering away from his tongue, making him force your trembling cunt back to his lips. Sssss-stop fucking runnin' in y/n, I need you dripping if I'm gonna fit Mamas.

You did more than just drip. You came down in torrents. You were elated, manipulated by satisfaction blooming in those those impossibly emerld eyes. His fingers working madly against the tight wet womb seizing up around them.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. It was so much robbing you of your sanity, so many sensations overwhelming you. The slurp. The smacks.  His middle and index fingers pulsing in and out. His tongue tending to that aching clit. A pleasurable heat swelling and releasing, over and over again.

Every climax up until now has sent so much satisfaction through you that every muscle in your body is wrought with exhaustion. But he doesn't care that you can't move.

He lays you on the cot in the corner. Making you side eye him a moment before. Damn. This was the the most outlandish shit you'd ever done. But shit. Toji looked so fucking good it hurt. His shirt comes over his head and those jeans come off.

He gives himself a few preparory strokes before smacking that heavy cock head against your clit, laughing as you jolted again and again and cried out for him to finally fuck you.

He arches, guiding himself inside, your swollen cunt pulsing and pulling him in. The slow descent into your gummy wet entrance warrants him the chance to really get to see the way he spreads you.

When he finally bottoms out, youre lustful mewls are echoing out through the hollow metal walls, putting a certain emphasis on the sound of his name erupting from your lips.

Sssss fuck mamas. He stills, tucked deep inside you, his dick jumping at the sound of your voice.

You can't keep this pussy away from me baby. His hips rock steady, fucking you into the sorry excuse for a mattress, loving the way he can fuck you plain stupid. Fuck, I could break you right now y/n.

You were always the prettiest little slut when you took this dick. Baby. Look at you. Why would you ever take this pussy from me Y/n?

The harsh slaps to your tits drags you back into your body. He ruts into you, teasing your clit back and forth, breaking you all over again until you were dripping once more, this time around his cock as he slowed the rock of his hips.

cmere he says flipping you onto your stomach and dragging your hips back. He pushes your shoulders to the bed, and slips his finger around and around the messy display before him.

Sssssss You'll take me back won't you?

Shit. You're ready to say it. But you bite bike your moans. No no no. Do NOT take him back.

Answer me mamas. He grunts out, prodding your puffy wet clit with kisses from his dick.

Let me hear you say it. He taunts, pushing in, pulling out. Pushing in, pulling out.

Fuck you growled fighting tooth and nail not to give in. But fuck, everytime he pushed in, you gushed, every time he pulled out you cried, desperately clenching around nothing.

Fuck Toji. Fuck me please.

His hand burns at the back of your neck. A second later your braids/wig/locks/curls are tangled up with his fingers when he palms the back of your head like a Spalding and snatches your body back against him, leaving nothing between you. Nothing to stop him from making you his all over again.

Tell me I can come back. I can make it all up to you. Baby?

He kisses around your ear, his hand cutting off your air supply just enough to make your head spin outta control from the mind numbing climax creeping up on you. You heard me mamas? I'll do it right now. He brags, hitting your spot.

You hated that it felt different, like your pussy was trying to get used to him all over again. Like you were ready to fall for him and all his bullshit. Consequences be damned. It hurt so good that you cried down your thigh, shaking and whining in perfect pain and pleasure.

Fuck Toji. I swear- nngh I hate your ass so bad.

Na nah nah darling. You don't get it do that. Not when this pussy is gripping my dick the way it is.

His fingers clench handfuls of your flesh and he drags his hips back and forth, every pump shallow but intense. Nudging and nudging and nudging until you were on edge again. 

Fuck he was right. You loved it. You wanted this. You needed this.

You'll always be my pretty lil slut? won't you? I've ruined you, and you like it. Let me hear dat shit mama, say it!!

I- I'm ruined. I'm no fucking good. I'm just your slut Toji, please. Ugh.

I can move all my shit back in?

Yes!

Toji was feral. Using his strength to prop you up and keep fucking you. He could still taste you on his tongue and you were coming so hard he couldn't pull out if he tried.

Shit! You must want me to come in you, don't you mamas?

Yesss. I want your cum. Cum in me please. You cry out as he pinches and tugs at your nipples, his tongue ghosting your ear.

He bucks faster. That's what the fuck I thought.

Your skin claps against his, ensuring anyone in the building most definitely could hear him beating down your slutty walls.

Tell that curly headed JT looking fuck I'll kill him if he calls you again.

Mhhmm. Yes Toji, yess. He could ask you anything right now and the answer would always be yes.

Whoahh! He sputters spurting his release against your swollen cervix. Satisfied, he pulls out leaving you empty and aching. Just a dumb fucked out bimbo with her ass out as he gleamed at the lewd display.

He slips his thumb over your clit, catching the bit that leakes out of you. Ah ah, don't waste any, he says shoving it back inside. Let's go. You gotta eat at least 3 plan bs for how much you just sucked outta me.

Ok you manage to whimper, lying flat, wincing as your walls contracted and the pain set in.

You lie there spent, officially dicked stupid.

Hey mamas, lemme ask you something.

What Toji?

Can I hook my ps5 up to the big tv?

Listen. I know he didn't fuck us in a box per a literal sense but hey. This was fun. What do you think?

#toji x reader #smutxanime honeeslust #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #smut writer #smut oneshot #spicy headcanons #jjk season 2 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #tojixsmut #toji imagine

[sleevesareforlosers]

DJ Hot Chimp is lovely. Discuss. (please)

she IS!!! i know this is late ive been trying to figure out how to discuss this and so im gonna talk about how chimp being lovely is a) very very genuine and b) completely fabricated

chimp sits at this nice little intersection of being very kind and very. very shrewd. shes observant! it makes her a great dj and reporter. even without Seeing her listeners she can tell what kinds of stories get people tuning in, the right ratios of music to traffic to call-in segments, and when she's taking calls she knows Just the right amounts of sympathy and humour to respond with to get the really good stories out. In person shes even better because she is SO tuned into peoples reactions and little things about her. just so observant.

it makes her seem very trustworthy, shes a great listener and can be a really soothing presence and she already knows Exactly what you're going to respond best to, which again comes back to making her a great reporter because people love to just tell her things (and if they dont, like cherri, it makes them even more interesting to her because she has to Work for it)

and if you have someone thats shrewd and a desertborn with all of the morality a desertborn is inclined to have, this could easily be terrible

and when chimp was a teenager, it was.

i dont think i'll fully get into it, but part of the reason that chimp doesnt have her original crew is because someone got tired of her being able to read them like a book and play them like a fiddle

and when all the dust settled from that and chimp was sporting a shiny new burn scar up her shoulder and the side of her neck she decided that it would maybe be better to be observant and kind, rather than observant and powerful

so she was

new name, new style, new radio dj with a vaguely-familiar accent spinning tales for the zones to fall asleep to. she started being more deliberate about things, paying attention to when people were uneasy with How Much she was picking up on, tossing out compliments that she knows people will like rather than insults that she knows will cut deep. she didnt have to do this, it doesnt always come easy to her, sometimes she drops it in favour of telling someone to fuck off in nine different and highly personal ways. but mostly shes kind and lovely because she wants to be

its genuine, but its a choice and its not an easy one, especially out in the zones

#danger days #tlotfk #dj hot chimp #idk i feel like due to plot and povs chimp got a bit flattened into like 'permanently happy and chill person' when thats not #the case all the time #twitterverse #bc this WILL be explored more in the newsie+chimp followup whenever i do that

[tetsustation]

APPRECIATION POST !!

in another words, lina loves her friends a little too much & doesn’t necessarily know the right means of expressing it </3

cass [ @misutv ] — uh im in a sappy mood so if you’re not rockin with the sap please scroll! epic, okay. hi... lol hey. thanks for pushing me to do this. now i know you know that i love you, with my chest! from when we first started talking to all these months later, that feeling hasn’t changed (even though you took two months ALLEGEDLY to warm up). i think our friendship is unique in the sense that i really never expect anything from you, when we’re on the phone or texting it feels natural and when i think of you my first thought is that i want whats best for you. isn’t that crazy? i don’t think i say it enough, but i care a lot about you—about all of you, whatever your feeling at any given moment or whatever project you chose to pursue at the time just know i’m there to back it and never expect anything from you, besides just that—you. i hope this is making some sense, knowing me this might be a bit of a mess, a ramble even. still, i think your exceptional—inside out, i’m really glad to be your best friend even if its just through some silly little app. i appreciate everything you do for me, even if i’m shit at saying so, because its baffling that you feel so inclined to dedicate some time in your day to me—i could melt i think. fair warning, i’m gonna crush your lungs at the airport. all my love loser >:)

hesther [ @hesthermay ] — how many months has it been now? hesther, you are such a solid constant in my life and i literally cannot thank you enough. from our strangely comparative music taste to the oldest sister bonding, i really feel like your the one person i can really resonate with that i haven’t met in person (yet). even if it’s weird to say, i love reading your marvel drabbles and personal pieces because it’s oddly intimate in personal in a way that implies a lot of trust. i know i can rely on you if i need anything, and vice versa. every week i pull you into my world, and the next week you pull me into yours—it’s an entertaining constant that remains me i’m not alone in my silly little struggles. i’m really glad i met you, and i’m so grateful i get to call you my friends (and i get butterflies when you call me butterfly). not to be gross but please don’t stop being you, it makes me smile, thanks hes <3 love you. 

selene [ @hajigumi ] — hey whore (lovingly). we’re coming onto two months now and it doesn’t really feel like it but i guess i’ll take it. honestly, it feels like we’ve known each other for a really long time—maybe its the same timezone thing but you just feel so familiar. i get a little skippy when you tell me that i’m stuck with you because i really love being your friend, its such a comforting experience and i’ve grown such a fondness for you i don’t think will fade. you suck, frankly, for being so welcoming. i love hearing about your day, boring or not—and i’m grateful your always willing to be about mine. despite what anyone says, your a great cat mom and an even better friend... giggles... love you mwah.  

ly [ @kyotarou ] — i almost typed out the govt name help... babe i love you so much. it’s impressive how you put your heart into everything you do, and it’s really shocking to me when you yourself don’t realize just how much of yourself you put into the things you do. just today when you were making those little polaroids, the dedication that you had to finish them and package them all pretty was truly heartwarming. that, among many other things—including your work which is always quality despite the seemingly mass production of it. i know your younger than me, but i aspire to be like you in that respect. your wit never ceases to amaze me and i think you were one of the first people i felt comfortable thirsting with because our taste is so similar (daishou fucker solidarity i think). i have such a strong appreciation for you as a friend and i hope it stays like that for a long time. 

angela [ @oikirstein ] — i think i’m gonna take a step in the right direction and try to be civil (kidding) but bestie when you’re sending audio messages of you scream sobbing about manhwa i can’t help but giggle. something that drew me into you was your humor, because honestly, i couldn’t help but feel really comfortable with you? even one on one, its just easy to talk with you because theres always so much on your mind—so much so that it’d be impossible to be bored. NO YOU KNOW WHAT SIDETRACKING BECAUSE YOU JUST CALLED ME THE EVIL TWIN UM. angela please never change, i don’t think i could bare it. i tolerate (love) you... ig....stay swag. 

violetta [ @hikariakaashi ] — once again i am tempted to pull out the govt name HELP. that’s just how comfortable we are with each other, i think. you were one of the first people to interact with me on hq tumblr, so far back that you probably remember my red/black alyssa layout lol—but thats really shocking to me because our friendship has grown so much sense then. it makes me giggle to think that i can just text you about stupid stuff and you’d tolerate it. you’re another person i feel as though i know in real life, its just so easy talking to each other, and my only hope is that we get even closer. mwah mwah!

rissie [ @levbug ] —rissie rissie rissie! i don’t care how much we slander and tease you, i love you to bits. please because you’re so funny and easy to talk to i feel like we’re besties. i could listen to you ramble for like an hour i just wanna hug you bae, thank you for being the only armin lover in the room—it makes me feel very seen. we gotta stick together >:)

rheya [ @diorpieck ] — hey rheya twirls hair...i really have a lot to thank you for because without hq radio i wouldn’t have met over half the people on this list and it baffles me how close we’ve become since. you are such a natural leader and i feel so honored i get to talk to you (the fact that you handle me is just as surprising). thanks for looking out for me and everyone else, because i don’t think we’d be where we are without you. thank you :>

jade [ @iwaizoom ] — jade i honestly do not know how to say this but apparently i’ve followed you since like last july (this is news to me too) and i’ll spare you the speech—but in short there was some fan behavior. i truly love talking to you, its so smooth and your energy is beyond welcoming. laughing at stupid shit with you makes me giggle like crazy and i’m so glad i get to call you a friend. stay in school mwah!

issy [ @cafemiya ] — hey pissie <3 i don’t know what it is but your presence is so comforting i love just talking to you, being around you, interacting—it feels like spring if that makes sense. you’ve written a lot of my comfort fics on this hellsite and for that i am permanently indebted to you. please consider this the start of my reparations and just know your existence in and of itself makes me all bubbly (lovingly) KISS! 

nayru [ @luvoratomi ] — i feel like we’ve known each other forever even though it’s only been a few months. still, you’re so consistent which is something i really admire about you, your messages to ask me about my day or hanging out in the discord is so grounding because i know i can count on you—which sounds silly but just know despite the teasing i love you a lot <3

cal [ @lovekags ] — don’t tell anyone but you’re my favorite epic gamer cal, i know we just started getting close but you’re so incredibly cool and talking to you feels so natural! your raw skill in so many different areas is baffling to me and makes me all blushy lol, thanks for rockin with me and i can’t wait to see how that powerpoint turns out >:)!!  

#mutual.love #the typos in this are astronomical uh #angela dni 🙁🙁 #THIS MADE ME WARM AND FUZZY. #i apologize in advance bc i'm not a very gush-over-my-friends type of person #but i love them a lot #note that i adore all my mutuals these are just the weirdos i talk to on the daily giggles #KISSES YOU ALL SO HARD. #help okay #yall have seen my face and have my socials.... better stay humble

[smutty-ki113r]

Hiya! I saw your blog and was interested in asking for a romantic matchup! You can involve nsfw if you would like.

My name is Ronan, my nickname is Ro, my most used pronouns are she/her/he/him. My sexuality is demi-sexual meaning I don’t get sexual attractions to people unless I have formed a strong emotional connection with said person. My zodiac is Scorpio (that’s pretty much all I know about that lmao) also my personality is ISTP-T

Starting with my mental trash I have a VERY low self esteem. I never liked the way I look and probably never will. I suffer from chronic depression that’s pretty much taken over my life. I have a very hard time with social cues and can come off as an asshole most of the time and I’m extremely blunt. People tend to think I’m cute since I’m fairly small; I’m a 5’3 Nordic female with thicker thighs. I am absolutely OBSESSED with The Legend of Zelda franchise, it’s been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m pretty musical; I play bass, drums, and sing. I also voice act so that’s really fun. Not gonna lie I say I have a huge ego but really I just hate everyone. Having depression I mostly lock myself in my room and work on my art.

How I look: I have black/brown hair in a boy cut. I have big round hazel eyes, my face is round with slightly chubby cheeks and freckles. I want to get my lip pierced but sadly have not gotten to that yet.. My fashion sense is kinda everywhere but I typically go for the cottage core aesthetic. I love muted nature ish colors, I think they look so pretty. I love to go on long walks and sit alone at my local park. I find being alone outside very calming. When I’m not outside or in my room I’m mostly playing video games with my friends and kicking their ass. Believe it or not I used to do boxing but now I just lift weights and workout some. I have a long history of physical illnesses that really render my body kinda useless so I always try to strengthen myself up however I can. I spent most of my childhood in the hospital due to these illnesses. I have been homeschooled my whole school years but I taught myself German, Japanese, and computer science. I actually have a job around it. I’m terrible at explaining my feelings and asking for help so telling people I love them is a huge chore for me. A lot of the time you can find me alone singing to myself with my eyes closed daydreaming.

I love to read. My friends say I’m really boring but whatever. OH I’ve always wanted to be a DJ. I know its a really weird dream but it just looks so cool. Nobody ever expects the sick quiet girl to want to be a DJ. Speaking of shy I’m a huge introvert if you couldn’t figure that out already. I’m extremely shy, don’t talk to me I’ll run away or you’ll be enveloped in my Zelda talk. I have amazingly crazy music taste (according to my mom) I listen to mostly heavy metal and Corpse Husband.

NSFW: Huge HUGE brat. You want me to do something? Yeah fuck you. I’m a huge sub you can pretty much do anything to me. I have a big daddy kink like please let me call you daddy UGH. Also praise but degrade me at the same time? Please thanks. I’m also a pillow princess. Um um ddlg yes thanks.

I match you with…..💖BEN_DROWNED💖

NSFW bellow~

OK OK I KNOW I KNOW, DON’T @ me for picking Benny boy for you Ro. I just think it’s the right fit. Let me start off with the whole depression thing, BEN relates to locking himself in his room and hyperfixating on something. At least you’ll have a gaming buddy to get you through it. Plus, he’s a very competitive guy. Get him to not cheat and you will have fun for hours. Not to mention you sound a bit like Jeff in the way that you can come off as rude. BEN and Jeff are pretty good friends, so you’ll make a wonderful partner for BEN.

Voice acting? BEN will love that, he’ll try to get you to do different characters from his video games or even anime characters. He loves your chubby cheeks, likes to squish them and make them puckered and then give you kisses. It’s quite adorable. Zelda talk? Yeah you don’t need to worry about him running off about that.

BEN will be obsessed with the cottage core, probably likes those little white flowy dresses. Maybe one day wear those elf ears and surprise him, I think he’d think it’s cute. You should definetly do his makeup, put that holographic glitter on his cheeks and some hair clips in his hair- maybe a skirt if he feels up to it.

BEN is very understanding about your illnesses, in fact he would be super impressed that you even lift weights. And is so so supportive about you wanting to be a DJ. He gets excited and calls over Jeff to show him. He’s not very shy about saying I love you, maybe the first time but after it’s constant affection.

For the smut! He can get rough sometimes, loves the daddy kink. He’s the type to soak all that up like a sponge. Praises you for taking his cock so well but will call you pathetic for making those noises. Probably wants you to wrap your thighs around his head and suck your clit for hours, he likes to feel you cum.

Ok Ok I hope you enjoyed that! I love how you have a big ego and then- low self esteem, sounds like me. I literally hate myself so much and then… holy shit I’m the hottest person alive. I know what depression is like, those thoughts just wrap around your throat and choke the life out of you, and it’s not even fast. It’s every day just heavier and heavier, dragging you down and making you feel horrible. I mostly lock myself in my room too, but writing helps me through it. I love love love your hair, boy cuts are so cool. And get that lip piercing! IT WOULD LOOK AWESOME. I love that you’re talented in music, I wish I was musically inclined. Scorpios are so cool, like I said, my best friend is one and so I LOVE YOU GUYS.

I am so incredibly proud of you, homeschool and then the illness stuff must be so hard but you are so strong for going through it. You don’t deserve it but sometimes life works that way. It’s ok to be shy and introverted. For the record, I think you would make an awesome DJ. DO it, I believe in you, so should you. I mean we all have our passions, work hard enough and I promise you’ll get there. I used to write a lot about my feelings and nobody ever read it, but I continued and look where I am now! Im so proud of myself for having this account, and you for being ALIVE. Thats all you need to do, you don’t need to be cool, or popular or skinny to be an amazing person.

Ro, I swear you are an awesome person. I can clearly see it, and I promise one day you’ll look in the mirror and think the same. If your friends say you’re boring they aren’t your friends. They sort of suck because reading is so cool. Without readers I couldn’t be a writer now could I? I believe in you. I know you can do it. Lifting weights is so badass I couldn’t even- I can barely do 5 pound weights man. Ya know I believe that the people who go through the most pain and sadness are the ones who will be the happiest in the end. The universe has to give us back what we lost, there is balance in everything and pain is only temporary. Everything is temporary. So I promise it’ll be ok man, and hey, you’re valid. I see you ro, and I know that you’ll make great places someday.

#ben drowned #creepypasta #ben drowned x y/n #ben drowned creepypasta #Ben drowned x you #📯 #♠️

[alienoriana]

Why Lonely Road is about John

1st Disclaimer: Approaching a Paul song is trickier than a John song IMO. Mainly because Paul seems to enjoy and embrace more the weirdness, the serendipity, the subconscious that can break in and subvert the creative process. John himself described Paul’s lyrics as surreal (maybe in oposition to his own lyrics, which are “real” real. For more insights about it, read this great post from @thecoleopterawithana). This is important because Paul usually prefer to highlight that aspect when he’s talking about one of his songs. That tendency may create the impression that he is more detached from his lyrics, when in fact he is trying to focus on that dimension that he considers to be an indispensable part of his identity as a songwriter. Sometimes its a dream, sometimes its a catchy line, sometimes its a mistake that works, sometimes its a minor event or a random person (or animal), or all these elements together. And thats what Paul will tell us later when ask about the song: that little thing that made the tune go and grow.

But when one tries to understand a song (emotional) motives, this tendency gets in the way -and probably that’s how Paul prefers it: just keep guessing, and more importantly, keep listening to the songs-.

2nd Disclaimer: As much as I believe that John and Paul were (are) soulmates, Im aware of the equal (and different) intensity of the bond they had with their spouses. The fact that I focus on J/P relationship, doesn't mean that I like to place their relationship over the others, as more important than the others.  In this case (this song) in particular, I say this in relation to Paul and Linda's relationship. Even if I try to show why I think John's presence is strong in a song, it does not mean that I deny the possibility that Paul actually is alluding to Linda, or even both, sequentially or at the same time. Because the heart is that messy and complex, and big.

I feel that I tried to cover myself too much before I even started, but both issues are usually present almost always in my reflections about his (their) songs (my favorite McLennon topic), and I think this post is a good opportunity to express it.

And now, to the song... [finally, right?]

Lonely Road was included as opening track in the album “Driving Rain”, published in november 2001. The main themes of the album are influenced by the mixed feelings of grief over the recent death of his longtime partner, and of excitement over a new relationship. There’s longing and thankfulness, but also the wish to let go to be able to go on.

Some of the songs were written during a holiday in India, in early 2001, where Paul had not returned since the events of 1968 (!). I think this little fact is esential to read this song. We can ask ourselves: Could Paul have remained indifferent to that place so associated with John and The Beatles, and to the memories it could have awakened?

The lyrics...

I tried to get over you I tried to find something new But all I could ever do Was fill, my time With thoughts, of you

I tried to go somewhere old To search for my pot of gold But all I could ever hold Inside, my mind Were thoughts, of you

I hear your music And it's driving me wild Familiar rhythms In a different style I hear your music And it's driving me wild again

Don't want to let you take me down Don't want to get hurt second time around Don't want to walk that lonely road again

I hear your music And it's driving me wild Familiar rhythms In a different style I hear your music And it's driving me wild again

Don't want to let you take me down Don't want to get hurt second time around Don't want to walk that lonely road again

Don't want to let you take me down Don't want to get hurt second time around Don't want to walk that lonely road again

The analysis of the one who does not want to be analyzed...

When asked about this particular song, Paul was as usual nonchalant about its meaning.

In 2001, he was saying this:

‘Lonely Road’ was also written in Goa, where I was enjoying the beach and the sea and generally chilling out in the new century. Again, I had a few moments in the afternoon, which is always a good time for me, a quiet spell when it’s always cool for me to go off and fondle my guitar. The songs basically wrote itself in about an hour. It is what it is, this song, you can make of it what you want to make of it. To me it’s not particularly about anything other than not wanting to be brought down. It’s a sort of anti-being brought down song, which is for anyone and everyone. It’s ‘don’t want to get brought down again, don’t want to walk that lonely road’, it’s symbolic for anyone who’s been through any sort of problems. It’s a defiant song against loneliness, written in a hotel room in Goa. - Driving Rain Interview, 2001.

“It’s a defiant song against loneliness”, thats a fantastic little definition, which goes well with not only this song but many of Paul’s tunes.

In another quote, published much later, Paul speaks a little about the simple motivation for a certain rhyme:

‘Lonely Road’ was written in India, and that’s a bit… I don’t really know what I’m doing, just blues longing. I say I tried to go somewhere ‘old’, that’s India. ‘To search for my pot of gold’, well I wasn’t, I was on holiday. So it’s half imagination, half reality. If I’m looking for a rhyme for old, and pot of gold comes into my mind, then I don’t resist. ‘I try to go somewhere old cos I no longer need a pot of gold?’ Fuck that. Let’s go somewhere old to search for a pot of gold seems more like a song. - "Conversations With McCartney", by Paul Du Noyer, 2015.

In both quotes, its like he’s saying: “It’s nothing, it’s just this song I made up on a holiday, I didnt want to get brought down, ‘old’ just goes well with ‘gold’, the usual things in a songwriter life. Don’t pay that much attention to it, don’t think too much about it, I certainly didn’t”.

Interestingly, he makes reference in the 2001 interview to another song of the same album, and he once again tries to make it clear that the sources of inspiration were deeply rooted in free asociation.

‘About You’ was written in India, in Goa. We had such a relaxing start to an Indian holiday which was at the beginning of 2001. It was exciting, I hadn’t been back to India since the Mararishi days, which was 25 years or so ago. It was great to look around a bit more; I’d only seen Rishikesh, north of Delhi, before. We started off in Goa, relaxed beach time, and one afternoon I wrote ‘About You’ on a little travel guitar I’ve got which has it’s own amp in it. I picked some words out for the song after seeing a copy of The India Times which was lying around. - Driving Rain Interview, 2001.

“I read the news today, oh boy" kind of feeling... Hmmm... (I wonder what that newspaper was about)

IMO, every time Paul strives to asociate a certain song to something inexplicable, casual and without intermediation, he actually suggests that the motivation is very intimate and subconscious. At the same time, he refuses to analyse it. He wont talk about it, because he cant answer for himself at that moment, that place and time. And he probably believes that if he tries to grasp its meaning and set it in stone, sort to speak, he would kill the song. In this case, I think he tries to say there is no clear intention, but its also a strong feeling he can’t help to express.

And when he alludes to the specific lyrics, he carefully avoids the “middle eight” of the song: “I hear your music and it's driving me wild / Familiar rhythms in a different style / I hear your music and it's driving me wild again”.

“I hear your music"... Whose music? 

Ok, Paul, you chose “gold” to rhyme with “old” (and I will not try to relate the “pot of gold” line with the famous twin dreams that John and Paul had after meeting for the first time). Fine. 

But who is the person he is talking to throughout the song? Whose memory is the one “taking him down” there in India, in a supposedly happy holiday?

Yes, it can be Linda, but if so, wouldn't Paul say "our music"?. Im inclined to believe that this music he’s hearing (and its driving him “wild”... wild as “young and rebellious”? wild as “angry and mad”?) belongs or relates to someone different.  

He sings: “Don't want to let you take me down / Don't want to get hurt second time around / Don't want to walk that lonely road again”.

Oh, this part I love. The reference to “second time” and “again” speak of a first time he was brought down and hurt, of a first time he walked “that lonely road”. Can this have to do only with his recent mourning, to which he’s saying in a way he’s done suffering? Or has to do with another, more distant, first departure, first great hurt? And even more, does this “first time” have something to do with India? (I remember now that Paul has another beautiful song that belongs to this period, maybe a little later, thats simply called “India”).

Why John, then?

The song transpires clearly a youthful rebellious spirit (”Fuck that”), expressing the need to shake off melancholy and nostalgia. And I think that in this way he suggests that he is more guarded in front of a process he already is familiar with. HE’S BEEN THERE. Because he has already gone through that lonely road, and it took him a long time to recover. This time, he feels the urge to recover faster (we'll know later that maybe it was too fast).

I dont know if the first mourning refers to his break-up with John or to John’s passing. Perhaps the proximity to India reinforces the first possibility.

Another thing to take into account is the fact that in the album Paul includes a song directly and explicitly related to Linda, Magic. On the contrary, in the case of Lonely Road, Paul decides to leave it orphan: it´s about noone, and nothing.

Lonely Road comes straight from the subconscious. It has a close, immediate trigger: probably another song that he hears and it makes him wild, and it brings him down, and it reminds him of another time when he was left alone.

And I think that song is a John’s song.

P.S.: Oh, not really related, but you definitely should watch the Lonely Road video. 

#i formally submit this to the mclennon symposium #lonely road #i wanted to write about this song for a long time #paul mccartney #mclennon #john lennon #x

[angrylizardjacket]

And All The Queen’s Men {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 5486 words. Okay wow. Please bare with me, this is a long one and also a bit of a different one. Written in the style of a Rolling Stone article. Finished it at 7am. Prompt & support from the lovely @ginghampearlsnsweettea

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse masterpost]

Warning: Minor character death, in both senses, it’s a baby, it’s not graphic it’s just mentioned, but just thought I should let you know.

And All The Queen’s Men: how the lines blurred between Queen and and the Queen of Jazz Rock.

An article almost two years in the making, after their last tour, which I was invited along to in order to write the initial article, the rock sensation Queen split, a decision, I am lead to be believe, was instigated by front man Freddie Mercury, and though Giselle Jones had continued to make music, even before her very public, on-stage breakdown, her lawyers had me keep the article to myself. Now, with the band’s reunion, and Live Aid having been a massive success with both powerhouse musical names coming back into the public eye, I’ve invited them back to my office for one last interview, but mostly to beg them to let me publish this article.

Which, obviously, they allowed.

It’s 1985, and with them all sitting in front of me, I feel a sense of deja vu. There are some changes, of course, Roger Taylor’s hair is shorter, Giselle Jones is wearing jeans and a sweater rather than her well-known cocktail dress, but John Deacon’s still smiling at me, Brian’s looking about the room, perhaps seeing if anything’s changed, and Freddie Mercury’s draped casually on the left of the only non-Queen member of the bunch. 

But before I get into the past two years, maybe I should take you back a bit, to when Giselle and Queen began collaborating.

Giselle Jones began in the late sixties as the front-woman of a swing band in a thirties theme pub known as Modern Glamour. Tall, elegant, with a voice like honey, she had a small following of regulars that frequented the pub, but had kept her passion from music from her family, claiming she was merely a waitress at the establishment, since her father was an executive at EMI, and she didn’t want to seem like the subject of nepotism.

However, one fateful day, her father brings music industry giant to the pub for lunch, hoping to catch Giselle at work and introduce her, but as you know, they both got a lot more than they bargained for. Foster sees potential in her, and offers her a contract if she’s willing to modernise her act, and as we all know, she does.

When Giselle releases her first album in 1970, Velvet Roses, which would be the first and only “Jazz” record to hit the Top 40 charts for that year, Queen are still playing pub gigs around London, though they’re looking at recording their first album, which would eventually get EMI’s attention, but that’s still not for a while. At this point, they’re the biggest fish in a very small uni-pub pond, and they need the means to grow. So out goes the band’s van, for one night in a recording studio.

“Like, in retrospect, of course it was the right decision.” Taylor leans against the back of the sofa he’s sitting on in my office in 1982, voice contemplative and fingers locked together as he looks into the past. “But I was twenty-two at the time, selling my van was a big deal.”

“A big enough deal that you wrote a song about it.” Giselle adds, sitting beside him in the middle of the sofa. Deacon hides a smile though May doesn’t hide his snort of laughter. 

The smirked remark is at odds with her look. While the boys are all in various states of brightly patterned shirts and jeans, looking casual and comfortable; Giselle wears white, sequinned, off-the-shoulder gown that hugs her figure and hits the floor, a slit in the thigh where her leg crosses, dark skin a stunning contrast to both the white fabric of her dress, and the leather of my sofa. Hands folded in over her knee, there’s not a singular hair out of place where she’s got it slicked back; I can’t look at her directly, she’s so focused and well put-together that it’s like staring at the sun.

The contrast has always been apparent in their various works, though Mercury has, in the past, cited her as an early inspiration for his desire to add a certain classical gravitas to rock and roll, and though she hasn’t publicly stated anything, the amount of covers Giselle has performed lived could fill an album. And now, here they are, about leave for a double-billed tour of the US, which I have been asked to join.

But their connection goes back much further than this, all the way back to 1975, to the release of the smash-hit single Bohemian Rhapsody That very same year, Giselle releases her fifth single, Dinner and a Show, a lyrically dissonant, heart pumping anthem that’s a metaphor for the way any type of review fuelled her, since it meant people were talking about her work. 

You serve yourself on a platter; your putrid delights, / yet how can I refrain? / You don’t come to flatter, you don’t want to go / so come on baby, / don’t you know? / You’re treating me to dinner and a show.

Giselle’s usually silky performance is turned into a masterclass of vocal gymnastics as she slides easily from the rough intensity of rock and roll, to the smooth purr of jazz as she sings about eating critics for breakfast.

They say a free mind makes the meat so tender / now you’re on the menu and I’m a big spender

The song itself comes as a response to her former manager about how her “aggressive” move to music that more stylistically rock and roll was alienating older audiences, though Foster, still her producer at the time, was pushing for her to skew to a younger audience, and it seemed as though he had gotten his way.

The real change, however, was the B-Side of the record. After speaking to Jim “Miami” Beach, Queen’s lawyer, regarding potentially covering one of the band’s songs, Giselle reveals that she was eventually told to just ask them directly.

“I gave Miami a letter that basically explained that I’d like to cover one of their songs for my new album,” Giselle gives me a thin smile, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong, even though I’m assured by Brian that her public persona “is just like that sometimes”. 

“- and I thought it was a joke! I said ‘yeah, sure, what’s the worst that could happen’.” Mercury laughs, leaning forward elbows on his knees and eyes shinning with amusement. “I did not believe for one second that Giselle, Giselle-” repeating her name for emphasis, his hand comes to quickly rest on hers where she still has them perfectly still on her knee, a moment of solidarity, “wanted anything to do with us. Hand Held Heart had been at the top of the US charts for almost three whole weeks the year before.” Letting out a long, wistful sigh, Mercury sits back, still grinning, though he’s got this far away look on his face now. 

“So we’d been stuck on a farm, recording A Night At The Opera for weeks with no outside communications, ” May fills in where Mercury’s faded into his own memories, and Taylor slings arm around Giselle where she’s actually relaxed somewhat, hands now in her lap. Curiously, she doesn’t shrug him off. “And when we get back, it turns out that she’s put a jazz cover of Jesus, yeah, that song from our first album, on the B-Side of her newest single.”

“Freddie practically had a heart attack.” Deacon adds, patting Mercury’s shoulder fondly.

In her own way, she was continuing the trend that Dinner and a Show had started, and that seven-inch single would bestow upon Giselle the title of Queen of Jazz Rock. It hadn’t been the first time she had acknowledged the band publicly, by the time she had released the single, her public persona had gained enough traction that, a few months prior to her recording of the cover, a reporter had asked if Killer Queen, Queen’s biggest hit at the time, had been written about her. The question had been caught on camera by the reporter after one of her tour stops in the Midwest of America; the footage is a favourite of fans, including myself, of the way she doesn’t even turn, simply calls over her shoulder, ‘they should be so lucky’, and she gets into her waiting car.

“I never took offence,” Mercury tells me, both in 1982, and 1985, as I bring it up both times to consolidate the origins of their musical partnership.

“You wouldn’t, you were all starry-eyed for her back then.” Taylor leans back to address Mercury behind Giselle’s head, but only when he says it the first time, in 1982. 

“It was a bit of a dig at us,” Deacon agrees with the drummer, nodding before shrugging. “A lot of good came out of it, though.” The others seem to agree, but Giselle herself has stayed quiet. For the first time since the interview started, she looks away from me, gaze dipping as she seems inclined to speak, though she takes her time to weigh up her words before she says them, wondering exactly what will and will not be printed.

“It was a bit of s**t thing to say. I was twenty-four and I panicked, I had to keep up my... this persona.” She gestures now to herself, breaking the entire physicality as she lets herself lean back, and I feel like I can breathe, seeing her act so human. Adjusting, she lets herself rest of the slightest of diagonals, shoulder to shoulder with Taylor’s arm still around her, now with Mercury petting her knee in solidarity.

Once in the tour bus, the difference between Giselle Jones, the woman, and Giselle, the singer and personality, becomes almost jarring to see. As soon as we get into the bus, she strips off the gown she was wearing, I turn away, though the others don’t seem to be bothered by it, May takes the dress to a waiting assistant by the door, and when I turn back, she’s in a pair of sweat pants and Taylor is tossing her shirt several sizes too big for her. For the first time since I’ve learned about her, Giselle looks comfortable, looks approachable and, for lack of a better word, non-robotic, taking a hairbrush from a drawer and flopping onto one of the beds as she brushes out the gel, apparently not bothering with a shower just yet.

“I showered this morning.” She seems to have caught my confused look, and explains herself. With her guard lowered in the familiar situation, her natural voice shines through, a rich, yet feminine alto, reminiscent of her singing voice. It adds to the list of things that add character to her beyond what her “persona” could ever convey. Or perhaps that’s the point.

The bus itself is almost too small for the five performers, and I’m certain it won’t fit me, but Giselle and I watch as they cram a blow up bed onto the kitchen table. It looks stable, and for the opportunity to experience living in such close quarters with such big names, I’d take anything.

“Sorry, darling, Paul takes the only spare bed.” Mercury informs me as I shimmy up onto the bed to test if it would hold. I had thought that the vehicle was at capacity, though it does make sense that the band’s day-to-day manager, Paul Prenter, would be travelling with them. That being said, I hadn’t realised there was even a spare bed, there was only five, perhaps none of them had wanted to be subjected to the blow up bed and decided to share instead.

When we finally get on the road, I get to finally see their true dynamics emerge. We all know the Queen dynamics by now, brotherly yet volatile, at times. I had worried for Giselle at times, the concept of living with four men (five if you count Prenter, who Giselle does not seem to, when I ask her about it, though I don’t think that’s a subject I should pry about, judging by the look on Taylor’s face where I can see him lounging at the back of the bus). However, I should have not have been worried; first of all, despite the youthfulness of their appearances, performances, and spirit, these are all men in their 30s, Giselle herself being 31 at the time of writing (1982), and they all have experience living with women, and with each other.

“First tour was a nightmare.” Deacon’s joined me on the blowup bed, is sipping tea as we travel along. “We learned real quick how disgusting close quarters can be.” He’s a quiet soul, but observant, and honestly I really enjoy his company. Anyone who can weather over a decade of rock and roll and come out as calm as him deserves some sort of recognition. “It’s much better now. Mostly.” He smiles like it’s an inside joke, but won’t elaborate. Giselle and Taylor refuse to clarify what he means by that, May just laughs when I ask him, directing me back to ask Taylor and Giselle, and Mercury calls them all gossips.

It’s something about the tour lifestyle that must bring out the childishness in them all, which comes out strongly during dinner. They shove my blowup bed into the sleeping quarters when dinner is served, and the five of us manage to cram into the tiny booth the bus allows. May, Deacon and Giselle are in charge of cooking dinner, sausages, potatoes, and peas, since apparently Prenter and Mercury have taken lunch duties, and Roger has put himself in charge of getting coffee and tea for everyone in the morning.

“We should really eat breakfast.” Giselle muses through half a mouthful of food.

“I do!” Deacon, next to me, comes back with, pouring some more peas onto his plate.

“You just eat cereal from the box, Deaky, that’s not breakfast.” Taylor counters him, which just causes the rest of the table to devolve into an argument about what counts as breakfast. Prenter, who has joined us for the meal, looks like he’d rather be napping or still driving, and makes quiet work of his meal.

Roger Taylor goes to sleep after me, and wakes up before I do, and I’m not sure how he does it. Or where he sleeps, the other beds seem taken. He wakes me up on the first morning by shoving my bed, which slides a few centimeters, but isn’t about to fall off it’s perch.

“You want coffee?” I’m barely functioning at this point, and his question baffles me. “Tea? Coffee? Deaky’s cereal? We got some left over sausages.” He lists off, probably due to my clear confusion, he seems exasperated, even though he’s definitely wearing pyjamas too. He’s still scowling a little when I tell him how I like my coffee, but he doesn’t complain, and it tastes exactly like I like it when he hands it over. The bus is stationary, so he can put the cups by the bedsides of those they are for, but interestingly enough he joins me on the table/bed. 

I know the origin story of Queen, I think everyone does at this point, so I ask him instead about the subject of my article; how Queen got involved with Giselle.

“You wanna know how I met Giselle?” It’s not exactly what I asked, but he’s already thinking about it, looking past me to the sleeping quarters with a frown. He plays absent-mindedly with the chain around his neck, and with the ring attached to it. “I thought everyone knew about that, the whole thing where we hated each other from the start?” When I ask if it was true, he actually laughs, though it’s more a snort of derision, if I’m being honest. “Of course not. Mostly.” They all seem to like that word, I hadn’t taken them all to be vague.

“I told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” Giselle will clarify for me later that day, joining me as I take a smoke break at one of our bathroom stops, not that there isn’t a toilet on the bus, they just try to avoid using it as much as possible. She doesn’t smoke, claims she never has, but enjoys the company, while the boys are buying snacks at the gas station. I ask when it was, she gives me another thin smile, but not like it had been in the office. Here it’s the punctuation to an earlier joke rather than a judgement.

She tells me about how she actually met them all, recording her second album, after her 1972 performance on Top of the Pops, you know the one. It had cemented Giselle’s now iconic aesthetic of an off the shoulder, floor length sequinned gown, silk gloves, and bold red lipstick, dark hair falling victory curls, the whole look reminiscent of an old Hollywood star, though there was red glitter trailing from her lips, and on her gloves in a theatrical fabrication of blood. It had been a look inspired by her musical roots, and the theatricality of the then-popular glam rock, a movement which would inspire many of Mercury’s tour looks also.

She was twenty-one at the time, still “developing her persona”, when she found that the in-house recording equipment at EMI was being used by the then-still quite unknown Queen. Or rather, according to Giselle, just Taylor.

“He was packing up the last of his equipment, and he makes a pass at me, thinks I’m an intern.” We can see the boys leaving the gas station, Taylor himself heading the pack. “So yeah, told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” She laughs, seems to hold the memory quite dear. “That b******d has the gall to look me in the eyes and ask who I am.”

“Did he know who you were?” When I look at her, she’s still smiling, tipping her head to the side as the boys draw close. She seems to be paying attention to me, but not a lot.

“Yeah, told me later he was just pissed I didn’t throw myself at him. That’s why I said that, ‘they should be so lucky’ thing, actually, that motherf****r right there.” The way she says it, raising her finger to point at him, makes me think it’s a story she’s told before, one that he knows about.

“You talking about me?” Taylor yells, and Giselle is quick to answer that she is. “Don’t spill all my secrets.” It sounds like an order, but his smile says it’s not, it’s weirdly playful, a dynamic I didn’t expect from them, especially considering their history. I raise the point. She laughs at me.

“You’re kidding, right?” 

Prenter calls for everyone on the bus, and Giselle doesn’t think to clarify once we’re back on board. 

The tour, I should have mentioned earlier, is a double feature; Queen is promoting their album Hot Space, while Giselle is promoting her own, The Bend Before the Break. When I ask her about the album itself, she talks happily about a few of the songs, however when I bring up my personal favourites, Ache and Heaven Sent, she turns very quiet.

I will end up watching most of her performances, and to this day, I have never seen something as raw and spiritual as Giselle performing Ache.

The lights dim as the joyful Meant to Be finishes. On the studio recording, a double bass starts the song, long, grieving and angry notes that pick up in tempo as it’s joined by drums and a piano, and finally, her voice, low, bitter and seductive in equal measure. Here, there’s silence, as she gently croons the open lines, face illuminated by only a single gold light, as swirling red and purple lights move about the stage. 

While saying you were sorry, / you burned me from the outside, in. / Now I’m calloused all over, / And too tired to feel the sting. / But I feel the ache, / feel the ache / feel the ache. / I’ll still let you back in.

She plays the piano herself for this song, a skill, I later learn Mercury had taught her many years ago. It’s a song that tugs at your gut, gets you thinking about how you keep people in your life who aren’t the best for you. She ends the last chorus with a long, mournful wail that you feel in your bones. 

I’ve never heard a crowd so quiet as when she finishes Ache, the penultimate song of her set list, unless you count encores.

The final song of the night is always Heaven Sent, a bright, headbanging anthem with the musical gravitas of a full jazz band. It was her single from the album, it topped most charts. You know the one. The radio won’t stop playing it.

Divinity with a neon glow / it hung above his head, / promoting his next show. / Didn’t even try to find my light, / just the darkness he’d bestow. / Heaven sent me the Morningstar.

“I was cheated on.” Was all she will say about the songs.

The others steer clear of those songs as well, when talking about the album, as well as the titular song, The Bend Before the Break, though Giselle claims she has moved on from the feelings associated in all three songs.

“I wrote them first on the album, I’ve moved on.”

Each of the boys seems very protective of Giselle at times, though Taylor is by far the worst. If I’m being honest, was weird to me, they’d been at each other’s throats publicly and professionally for almost a full decade after Giselle’s initial comment, however the vitriol had died down in the past few years, so I enquire about that about halfway through the six week tour. 

“We set them up.” May is the first to answer, sipping tea with myself, Deacon and Mercury. Since both Giselle and Taylor adjourned to the sleeping quarters. I ask him what he means.

“They tell it better.” Mercury interjects, but May argues that they’re asleep anyways so it’s not like it matters. Deacon agrees with Mercury, but quiet enough that May ignores him.

“So by ‘79, we’ve collaborated together, us and ‘Zelle, I mean,” the nickname is mostly used by May and Taylor, though Deacon uses it on occasion, “a couple of times, and we love her, right boys? We love her-” looking around, both Mercury and Deacon are nodding along, responding to a story they’d both heard before, though it was interesting for my first time hearing it, “but Rog is about ready to stab her with his drumsticks, but that’s just how he is.”

“Threatened to stab me once.” Deacon adds the unnerving information with complete serenity, focused on his cup.

“Me a couple of times.” Mercury shakes his head, as if it were some schoolboy prank rather than a stabbing threat.

“Like I said, just how he is. So we decide to send them to a place where they can bond over complaining about everything else, apart from each other.” I asked how it worked out for them and I watch as their faces fall. This terrible blind date idea must have gone horribly. “They hate the restaurant, which is good, but he goes to leave and bumps the table, spilling beer all over her dress, which is bad,” well, obviously. He pays me no mind, “and she elbows him in the face when she’s putting her jacket on - still don’t know how that one happened - but he still says he’ll take her home because it’s late, except-”

“To preface,” Deacon jumps in here, adding a little more milk to his tea, “she hates I’m In Love With My Car.” The song? Deacon nods. “Rog wrote it.” I can connect the dots, but I’m still confused as to how that lead to them being friends.

“Friends.” Mercury actually laughs into his cup.

“He takes her home anyways, she tells him the song’s s**t bu the sentiment wasn’t far off.” May finishes, shrugging.

“It was a real nice car.” Deacon shrugged, before looking straight at me. “And she still hates the song to this day.” There’s an air of finality to his words that is entirely unwarranted. That isn’t the point of the story; how are they friends now? Did they hook up in his car? Is that what they’re implying, I feel like such a gossip asking these questions.

“Did they ho- ? Yeah, of course.” May laughs, and though it clears some things up, I’m still rather confused. It’s probably reading on my face, because it looks like something else is dawning on him. “You know they’re married, right?”

No. No I did not know. Now I feel like an idiot.

I wonder if The Bend Before the Break is about Taylor? I can sense I’ve touched a nerve when I ask, and Mercury abruptly changes the subject, though the air still doesn’t feel right. When I head back through the sleeping area to get a new pen from my luggage, I catch a glimpse of Giselle napping in her bunk, Taylor too, asleep with his arm around her. She’s even wearing a wedding ring. I’m kicking myself for not noticing sooner. The chain with the ring around Taylor’s neck makes sense now. A lot of things make sense now.

For the next four days I feel like I’m being shunned, I’m the last to be told about dinner and have to eat the leftovers, Giselle barely says two words to me, Taylor just keeps glowering, and someone let the air out of my bed on the second night. It’s childish, but it’s in line with what I expect from them, regarding this sort of issue, I’m just glad Taylor hasn’t poured my coffee on me in my sleep, or spat in it. He just didn’t make it, which I suppose is probably the safest option for me.

The only apology I can think of is to offer to buy them all drinks, but it works well enough, and the next morning I wake to a fresh cup of coffee, and a very hungover Taylor. At least he’s dedicated to his job.

The rest of the tour passes without further incident. I still stand by Ache as one of my favourite musical performances of the decade, though I don’t mention it to Giselle, and now that I know the dynamic between her and Taylor, I can’t stop seeing it. Honestly, readers, they’re all over each other, which is expected from a man of Taylor’s reputation, but it’s still a little jarring to see the two of them so cozy. I must have been blind not to see it before.

When we part ways, Giselle is a little stiff with me.

“You brought up some feelings that I just... hadn’t actually dealt with at the time, which f******d me up.” She tells me in retrospect, sitting in my office with the rest of the boys in 1985. Live Aid was a few weeks ago, and since they all returned to the spotlight, I asked if they wanted to come and reflect on the past few years. The one thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that Giselle still swears like a sailor.

“A lot’s happened in the past few years.” Taylor’s still very protective of her, and after everything that’s conspired, at least from what I know, it’s warranted. We talk about the band splitting, how it had hurt the band as a whole, and even Giselle, who was at the time seeing a counsellor with Taylor. I’m hesitant to broach the topic of their relationship, though they seem like a solid until now, sitting before me, holding hands and leaning against one another.

I ask if Giselle’s breakdown was due to the band splitting, though I’m hesitant if I’ll get a response. Her smile is sad, which is mirrored by the rest of the band. I can guess her response before she says it.

“No.”

You all know the moment I’m talking about, the last concert for her last album, as of this publication, Finally, Sunlight where she had receive pleas from the audience for an encore. When she came back out, part of her makeup had been smudged around her eyes, and you can hear her sniffle over the microphone. (”I’m so sorry, I lost someone close to me, I thought I could keep it together for one night.” Dabbing at her eyes, she sits at the piano and laughs, but there’s no heart in it. “But I’ve got five more minutes left in me, let’s go, Atlanta.”) The song she plays is Somebody to Love, a slow, soulful cover, and the audience is almost unanimous in their raised lighters and slow swaying. As she goes on, she just starts crying harder, missing notes, hands shaking; the extended ‘Looooord’ before the chanting becomes a desperate wail, a plea to the heavens, and she collapses onto the piano, sobbing audibly as the instruments all come to uncertain halt and lighters go down in confusion.

From the crowd, a single voice begins to chant ‘Find me somebody to love. / Find me somebody to love.’ and a single voice turns to a theatre, full to the brim, as they sing when she can’t, still crying against the piano. Lighters go up, and together the audience and the band finishes the song where words have failed her. It was televised locally on the night, and still brings me to tears when I watch it now.

“We lost our daughter.” 

For those of you reading this who are shocked, I am too. Sitting there like a fool, not saying anything. 

“I was on tour, and Rog was at home with her,” even now, Giselle is getting a little teary-eyed, not that I blame her. Both Taylor and Mercury have an arm around her, and May has a hand on her shoulder, Deacon sitting on the back of the sofa right behind her. A unit. A family. “I wanted to go home, she was getting really sick, and I know he was doing everything he could, but I just- I wanted to be there... but my label threatened to sue me for... millions.” It sounds like it’s hard to say, and she’s wiping a tear from her eyes. I offer her the tissues on my desk. “But I should have gone home. I should have been there by her side, I should have done more.” Taylor whispers something to her and she leans against him, taking comfort in him.

“I had to call her, tell her that... that she’d passed. The day of the show. She’d been so upset for week, ‘Zelle that is, and everything just-” Taylor manages to get a great handle on his emotions, despite his misty eyes and shaking hands. “We’re alright now though, see? Nothing can tear us apart.” Though his voice does drop, so I think he’s saying it more for Giselle’s benefit. I give them all time to collect themselves, stop to get hot drinks for everyone, and everyone finally seems happy enough to answer when I ask what’s next for them.

“Music, of course.” Mercury says, now holding what was Giselle’s free hand. The rest of the gathered musicians agree. I ask if we’ll be hearing any sort of collaboration between Queen and the Queen of Jazz Rock. Taylor snickers, pulling Giselle close.

“Yeah, but not in the way you mean.” He ignores the rest of the men’s shouts of disgust, as well as his wife’s own gagging noise, which I can see on her face she regrets as she covers her mouth with caution, before giving the okay. 

“No, we’re okay, we’re good.” She assures everyone, before looking at me. “What he meant to say is that I’m pregnant.” She clarifies. Taylor is still grinning. 

“Don’t be gross, Rog.” May calls from the other side of the sofa, and Taylor has the gall to look accosted.

“What’s next for me, after everything that’s happened, is family.” Giselle says over the sounds of her husband’s indignant huffs, though his expression turns soft at her words, and they ignore the ‘boo’s of everyone else as they kiss.

“Could you be less gross around company?” Deacon asks, still mild-mannered as ever. This seems to be the cue for the interview to end, as Taylor of Giselle-

“It’s Giselle Taylor, by the way, I’m sorry I hadn’t corrected you earlier.” She corrects me now, as [Roger] Taylor leads her out of the door. The rest of the band seem mildly exasperated at their antics, but still ready to answer my questions. After everything that’s happened, I’m a little overwhelmed, I’m not sure where to go from here.

Perhaps my next article will be on Live Aid.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #the angry lizard writes #bohemian rhapsody imagine

[talkingtotheapples]

Hey remember when I said I’d do a lyric analysis of northern downpour, and then didn’t do that for like 6 months? yeah here we go:

the opening line of Northern Downpour: “if all our life is but dream” really sets the tone for the song, its half quoting a children’s song; establishing the almost nursery rhyme aesthetic the has going on for large parts. The changes Ryan makes to the line also reveal important thematic elements in the song--“life is but a dream” is changed from a definitive and general statement; its no longer commenting about general reality but rather questioning all his established feelings about their relationship. He is turning to the other person and saying “is any of this real? is this all a fantasy ive built up in my head?” it feels almost as if he is Begging them to contradict him, to tell him what they have is good and Real and not just “broken glass”, that for a second looked like “diamonds”, and although theres a desperate uncertainty to how hes wording these thoughts “/if/ all our life is but a dream” “/do appear/ to be, just like broken glass /to me/“ you get a sense its less that he’s unsure and more that he has this realization and he is /Praying/ he is wrong.

The second verse seems to be the other person’s reply, but instead of addressing his thoughts and questions they turns to what seem like general criticisms of him “i cant believe that genius only comes across in storms of fable foreign tongues”, this line seems to be a dig at how he expresses himself: unorganized, wild, and hard to understand, while they insist thats this cant be the only way, they offer him this rather than, as noted before, addressing his fear that they’re relationship is nothing more than a fantasy or a dream.

The chorus seems to shift away slightly from the conversation the first to verses are detailing, the tone also switches back to the nursery rhyme that was present in the first line of the song. It’s directed to a personified version of the moon, a common theme in english nursery rhymes, it’s also reminiscent of ‘rain, rain go away’ although reversed in meaning. Overall the line is almost a prayer, begging the moon to say in the in the hope that that would freeze this moment forever, this hope adds a sense of anxiety to the whole song as if whatever happiness is held in this moment is fragile and will inevitably end with the day break. Using a child like tone gives the line an innocent edge, innocent as in ignorant rather, he’s asking for an impossible thing, wording it like a nursery rhyme or children’s song acknowledges this, asking for this night/this moment/ maybe even this entire relationship to last is as fruitless as child singing to that rain in the hope that it will bring fair weather

“Sugarcane in the easy morning/weathervanes my one and lonely”; speaks of Contrast; the first line feels to me to be about happiness and contentment: sugarcane is sweet and wonderful but also simple and natural, he also used the word ‘easy’ which i think compounds that, its a situation that is happy and beautiful but also effortless then you add the setting of the morning time which brings with it a sense of domesticality, and so the line paints a picture of a relationship or situation that is blissful and warm but natural and content also(much like a home)This is immediately contrasted with the next line; ‘weathervanes my one and lonely’ : weathervanes are an image that instantly conjure(for me anyway) ideas of isolation, they are distant from everything, they’re an object you own but have no physical contact with, this is then emphasized by the weathervane being described as lonely, Ryan, by using a possessive phrase aligns himself with the weathervane, creating the suggestion they are the same(he is also isolated and alone). Further more the choice of a weathervane suggests location as well, theyre an object rarely if ever found in the city, an object that is completely connected to farm life, as this is a song written by someone who lives in a city but travels long, long distances through the country seeing things like weathervanes would be a visual reminder that he’s a far from home as it well as being an object that is ‘lonely’ in its own right, bringing us back to the ‘one and lonely’ part, they’re joined together by their equal loneliness.

we shift back to the conversation here with a description of the of the other person talking: “through playful lips made of yarn”, Ryan has been using body imagery through out the song, and theres often been a subtle personification of the body parts, which is very true in this case. Instead of the speaker being simply described as talking the words move through their ‘playful lips’, which gives the words an edge of agency in their own right. But in this case he hasn’t just personified the lips, he’s also given them a sense of the artificial, by describing them as being made of ‘yarn’, not only is it a artificial material, it also has a strikingly different texture to lips(the line wouldnt have the same effect had he used plastic instead) the description gains a very haptic feel to it, but also alien and strange, potentially indicating his feelings towards the other person at this point.

The emotion of the verse starts shifts back to the more distraught feeling at the start of the song, the “Capricorn” is described as “fragile” and the words the came from the “playful lips” now “unravel”. As if the as the conversation progresses the other person gets more and more upset, and their speech more jumbled.

There isn’t a clear indication who or what ‘that fragile capricorn’ is, the natural inclination is that it’s the other person(presumably they are a capricorn) but its place in the verse seems to suggest otherwise— it seem to be the cause for the mood change, “/That/ fragile Capricorn /unraveled/ words like moths upon old scarves”, like it is the cause for the unraveling, I want to argue that its an outside force or situation, potentially the conversation they are currently having; tentative and hanging over their heads.

this is immediately followed by, what ryan described as the central line of p.o.: “I know the world’s a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home”, in the context of this song potentially being about a troubled relationship it could be taken to be about that specifically, a plea either to the other person or himself to keep working on the problems in their relationship, but I think its almost meant to be taken in general sense,(potentially as well) its not enough to just acknowledge the ways in which your life, or the wide world is hard and harmful and then to wallow it that pain, rather you have to then be proactive in that situation and Make It Better(which is a bit of a theme in jon’s solo music but i Digress).

the song then moves back into a repetition of the ‘sugarcane’ line, eventually interlaced with ‘hey moon’, finally the song ends on two new lines: “You are at the top of my lungs/Drawn to the ones who never yawn” and return to the body imagery that has ran through the song, “you are at the top of my lungs” has implication of someone ‘taking your breathe away’(tho its infinitely better worded that i actually feel guilty describing it as such but i dont know how else to put it). yawning is a sign of tiredness or boredom so the opposite of that invokes connotations of focus or intensity, tho i got to say im unclear as to whether that line refers to Him being “drawn to the ones who never yawn” or the other person, I default on it being the other person because of the wording but it makes more sense to me if it refers to ryan idk

basically northern downpour is a song that sits tentatively strung between the knowledge that maybe this relationship isnt the healthiest and being So in love with the other person that you almost dont care but mainly desperately want to be proved wrong, desperately begging the moon to stay in the sky so this Good moment doesnt end and you wont have to face reality by the harsh light of day

Some Notes

•this might be a a bit of a hot take idk it isnt really what i thought about the song until i thought intensly about each line for hours but once i landed on it the more i became convinced that was what the song was talking about, its still just my interpretation tho, how ever you interpretated it is just as valid u know, and if you wanna send me your thoughts about northern downpour(or any song off pretty odd lmao) please feel free! i obviously have Thoughts lmaoo

•kinda wanna write an entire piece about how northern downpour, dangrous blues and lie to the truth are basically a trilogy, kinda wanna cry

•i had to physically stop myself from writing an entire paragraph about how ‘i know the worlds a broken bone but melt your headaches call it home’ is a progression from the central ideas of fever and im real emotional about it but i managed to control myself cos it didnt really fit

#also feel free to to send me a message if there are typos in this i tried hard to edit it but i wouldnt be suprized if i missed some #ryan ross #pretty. odd. #panic! at the disco #patd #txt #long post #sorry i donno how to do readmores on mobile and the desktop version really didnt want me to post this 😫

[sadprose-auroras]

‘About Time’ - Roger TaylorxFem!Reader (Part 1)

A/N: Hello my darlings! I can’t decide if I hate this or not, and I’m not sure if I’ll continue writing this, depends on the response. Please let me know if you want me to continue it (it would probably require way more parts, like a full on series). Hope you enjoy! - Also, this can apply to Ben Hardy’s portrayal of Roger. Whatever you prefer!

(This was totally inspired by a couple time travel fics I read a few weeks ago, I can’t remember the authors or the names but all credits to them for the time travel idea…. LOVE. IT. I just HAD to write my own, crappier version)

Find my other works here!

 You sunk to the floor, your knees giving out beneath you. You felt ridiculous, curling up in a ball, in your wardrobe, but you had reached your breaking point; everything had suddenly hit you. As you hugged your knees, sobbing, your jeans became tear-soaked. Your mind wandered, as your cheeks flamed in embarrassment and shame about your current state, despite nobody being around. How did you get here? A few months ago, your life was great. You had a great job, a great circle of friends and boyfriend, and you were pursuing your passion; studying fashion design. Then, everything began to crumble around you. All your friends turned on you, you got fired, and your studies began to slip as a result, causing you to fail an exam.  

 If all that wasn’t bad enough, you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you for a year and 11 months. Go figure. It was as if the universe was playing some long, cruel joke on you, just to see how long before you gave up on trying to pursue any kind of happiness. Just as you came to the conclusion that you really had nothing to fight for, leaning your head back on the wall behind you and closing your eyes, the strangest feeling overcame you. Your head began to spin, and pins and needles covered your entire body. You tried to open your eyes, to move your body, but you were frozen. Your heart rate increased rapidly, and you began to think that this was really it. Whatever was happening, you were going to die. Strangely enough, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.  

 By some miracle, everything stopped. The pins and needles ceased, and, save a throbbing headache, you felt much better. You experimentally wiggled your toes, and you had feeling back again. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, looking around you. It was dark, but you could make out the shapes of the clothes hanging around you. Oddly, you didn’t recognise any of them. The chair that was next to you when you closed your eyes was gone, replaced by a shoe rack.  

You stood up, closed your eyes again and rubbed your temples, trying to rid of the probable hallucinations. You racked your brain, thinking back to when you studied psychosis in high school. You couldn’t remember a thing. Was temporary paralysis a symptom? 

 You decided you needed to call a doctor. You pulled your iPhone out of your pocket, still in the dark, and opened up safari. You had no wifi, and no reception. Frowning, you opened the wardrobe door, the knob feeling unfamiliar, to be greeted by a figure doing the same. The door swung open suddenly, bouncing on its hinges.

 You both screamed loudly, and, without looking at the figure in front of you, you tried to push past to get away, however, a hand gripped you and pulled you back. 

 Your eyes became fixed on the man in front of you. You frowned, unable to tear your eyes off him. The hallucinations were getting worse; you were conjuring up images of people in your home. Hang on. You knew his face all too well; you had spent hours watching him drum and sing at concerts on YouTube. It couldn’t be, could it?

 “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my wardrobe!?” he asked, releasing his grip on you. You winced, rubbing where his fingernails had dug into you. This was all too much.

 “I should be asking you the same thing, why are you in my house? What’s going on?” you looked around the room, expecting to see your familiar bedroom; your posters plastered around the walls, your colourful duvet, and your plush white carpet. Instead, the walls were empty, the duvet was blue, and the carpet was grey.

 “I need to sit down,” you said, overwhelmed, perching on the edge of the unfamiliar bed. You glanced up at the man in front of you, his expression still shocked and wide-eyed, as he looked you up and down, his brows furrowing. 

 “God, you seem so real,” you laughed. “But there’s no way.”“What the fuck do you mean?” he replied. “I know I’m real, but I can’t say the same about you. I’ve never known anyone who can just appear out of thin air,” he shook his head in disbelief. 

 You frowned, rubbing your hands through your hair. “What do you mean, I appeared out of thin air?” your stomach began to sink. For reasons you couldn’t explain, something else was going on. Something much weirder than you initially thought.

 “Well, I don’t see how you could have got into my wardrobe without me seeing. I’ve been in my room for 20 minutes.” You glanced at his legs, frowning. What kind of person wears flared jeans anymore? 

 “I, um,” you began, a laugh escaping your lips despite yourself. This was all too ridiculous. You were actively avoiding eye contact with him. You figured if you acknowledged that it was him, at that age, in front of you, this would all go away. It was impossible. Suddenly, it all came together, as shocking as it was. It wasn’t him that was in the wrong place, it was you. This wasn’t your house. You had no wifi or reception. And, Roger Taylor, looking as he did circa 1972, was right in front of you. Had you time travelled? Your head span at the possibility. What else could explain these strange occurrences? 

 “What year is it?” you asked, this time properly meeting his eyes this time. Photos didn’t do the real thing justice; his baby blue eyes were maintaining steady eye contact with you, his lips were slightly parted, and his hair looked so soft and angelic. He was insanely beautiful. You internally cursed yourself. Now was definitely not the time.  

“1972…” he said, becoming even more confused. Your theory was confirmed. You’d watched all of the Back to the Future movies countless times, but you’d never imagined anything like that could ever really happen. Especially to you; plain, boring, old you. 

 “I know you’re probably not inclined to believe the crazy girl from your wardrobe, but I think,” you bit your lip, concerned at how he would take the news. “I think I’m from the future.” 

----------

 “So, you’re telling me you didn’t do anything for this to actually happen?” Roger asked. After trying to explain to him a million times, that yes, you were in fact just as confused as him, and no, you didn’t climb through his window, you tried to remain patient. He had every right to be confused as hell, you would definitely react the same if you were in his shoes. Despite this though, he was oddly trusting, allowing you to remain in his house and actually giving you the time of day to explain your side of the story. He even offered you a glass of water and something to eat, which you accepted gratefully. You were starving. 

 “Yes, I was literally just in my wardrobe, then the next thing I knew we were screaming in each other’s faces.” 

 “How do I know you’re telling the truth? You don’t seem very sane so far. I’m going to need some proof. You could just be a crazy girl who will do anything to sleep with me,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes. So the stories were true, he really was cocky.

 “Don’t flatter yourself, Taylor,” you retorted. “And no,” you said quickly, as he opened his mouth to speak, “I don’t know your surname because I’m a crazy stalker.” Your mind wandered to your extensive Queen record and CD collection. Okay, so maybe you were a little, but he didn’t need to know that. 

 “I know because Queen makes it big. I mean, massive.” You bit your lip nervously. If Back to the Future taught you anything, nobody should know too much about their own future. For the first time in your life, you had to think about what you said before you said it.

“How can I convince you?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “What year do you claim to come from, anyway?”

“2019,” you bit your lip. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Shit,” he mumbled. “Am I….?”

 “Still alive? Yeah.” Suddenly, you had an idea. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, thankful it was still charged. You turned it on, the time and date you had left still displayed on the screen (18th January 2019, 11:00), in front of a picture of Queen from 1975. You turned the screen towards him. 

 “Holy shit, is that me?” he gasped, leaning forward. “2019.” He looked up at you, and you shrugged and nodded. You were thankful he didn’t know the implications of having a picture of somebody as your lockscreen. 

 “There’s something else,” you unlocked your phone, opening music and searching for ‘Doing Alright.’ You pressed play, the song pouring out of the speakers.

Yesterday, my life was in ruin

Now today, I know what I’m doing… 

“Oh my god, that’s our song! We haven’t even released it yet.” He chuckled. You couldn’t help but grin at his excitement, encapsulated by his gorgeous smile. 

 “Wanna hear more?” you smirked. It’s funny, you had never felt so comfortable around somebody so quickly. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him relaxed you. 

----------

 “Have you noticed I haven’t asked about that thing you’re holding, ‘cause I’m too scared to?”

 You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. You’d spent the last half an hour playing Roger a few more Queen songs. A small nagging voice in the back of your mind was telling you to stop, to not reveal anything about his future, no matter how small. But Roger’s pleading to hear more won.

 “It’s actually a phone,” you said, to answer his question. “Well, that’s its main purpose anyway. You can use it to take and store pictures, play music, and use the internet. Which, well, you’ll find out about in approximately 18 years.”

 “I’m intrigued, what’s the internet?” he asked. You thought of all the unspeakable things you had come across on social media, and shook your head.“You don’t want to know.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you tried to suppress a blush.  

You cleared your throat, averting your eyes from him as you straightened up in your seat. “What’s the time?” you asked. He glanced down at his watch. “3am,” he laughed in disbelief. “We should probably get some sleep. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

 You shook your head rapidly, taken aback by his utter kindness. “Oh my god no, please, I will. It’s your house,” you said, getting up from the chair you were sitting on. He did the same. You both stood awkwardly, basically staring at each other. You couldn’t help but think of the times you watched a Queen documentary on TV, with the Roger of your time’s commentary. It was hard to believe the man in front of you was the same person.  

 He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes off you, and going into his bedroom, mumbling something about getting something for you to sleep in.  

 As you awaited his return, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were so focused on how flustered you were around Roger, and not worried about the fact that you were literally stuck in the wrong year, and had no idea how to get back. The funny thing was, you had no desire to. You hadn’t felt so at home in a long time, than when you were laughing and talking with Roger. He made you feel so safe, so quickly. And that feeling would only grow stronger when you both gave up on convincing the other to sleep on the couch, and ended up sharing his bed. 

PART 2: BONUS CONTENT THAT I WROTE THE SAME DAY AS PART ONE. I’M NOT GOING TO CONTINUE IT BUT WHAT’S THE POINT OF HAVING IT IN A WORD DOC N NOT POSTING IT?

When I was writing this, I couldn’t stop imagining rom-com moments. Like, the outfit section? A cute montage with a cute song. Damn I wish I could express the images in my head more clearly, in words. My writing sucks. 

“Y/N, wake up. Y/N!!” A familiar, yet foreign, voice startled you. As you came to your senses, you realised your usual soft, silky sheets were replaced with cotton ones, and an unusual smell wafted around you. You slowly opened your eyes, to be greeted by Roger leaning over you, a slightly annoyed look on his face. Fuck. It was real. He must’ve read your disappointment on your face, and he smiled sympathetically and nodded.

“Yep, you’re still here,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help but sigh; you’d hoped it was a really long, unusual dream.

“I have to go to rehearsal for a gig tonight. Do you wanna come?” Of course you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to meet the rest of the band, and literally see the magic happen, you couldn’t help but feel like you were invading. But then again, who could say they had the chance to sit in on an early Queen rehearsal, especially knowing how successful and impactful they were going to become?

“I don’t – I don’t want to intrude,” you mumbled, sitting up in the bed and clutching the duvet around you, suddenly feeling exposed in Roger’s white shirt.

“Well it’s your choice, I understand that you probably don’t want to sit around with us when you could be finding a way back home or finding your parents or something,” he said.

Although you would never admit it, you wanted nothing more than to go with him. Not only was it literally history in the making, but the absence of your birth parents in your life, leading to a childhood of foster families who couldn’t care less about you, gave you a sense of independence at a young age. You knew how to be alone, seeking solace in music. Music created by the greats like Queen made you feel less alone, as silly as it sounded. It was your escape from the struggles in your real life.

“Wait, no. I want to come. If you don’t mind. But I need something 70s appropriate to wear,” you chuckled, glancing over at your high-waisted skinny jeans and cropped knit jumper folded neatly on a chair.

“I think that can be arranged.” Roger grinned at you, and you were struck with yet another wave of disbelief. Roger Taylor was going to lend you come of his iconic clothes.

After spending a couple of hours going through Roger’s clothes, which was your absolute dream, you finally settled on a pair of pants that were a little too short, and a shirt that was slightly too tight across the chest. You tried to spice up the outfit with a few of Roger’s necklaces, much to his dismay.

“Do I look okay?” you asked when you stepped out, twirling around with your arms out.

Roger, standing with a pile of clothes in his arms that you had rejected, furrowed his brows and looked you up and down. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the sight; he was taking his job as your stylist very seriously.

“You’ll almost fit in,” he said, “although, the shirt is too tight,” he finished bluntly, gesturing to your chest. You folded your arms instinctively.

“Don’t worry, I won’t look at your boobs.” You frowned at this. Was that meant to make you feel better? Why did you feel slightly disappointed?

“Um, thanks?” you scoffed. “What should I do with my hair?” you tugged on each of your French braids. Roger walked towards you without warning, and pulled out your hair ties, running his fingers through your hair.

“Just leave it loose.” He said hoarsely, his face dangerously close to yours. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was biting his lip in concentration, his eyes squinting as he adjusted your hair. It took everything in you to not lean into his touch; his fingers were so delicate. As he pushed a strand of hair out of your face, his eyes met yours.

“Perfect,” he almost whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You knew you should pull away. You knew this would get way too complicated. Your rationality was telling you to snap out of it. But as his hands smoothly came to rest around your neck, bringing you closer, something else entirely was driving your actions.  Just as you began to lean in, he pulled away, clearing his throat loudly.

“Let me get you a coat,” he said, quickly rushing away from you. You bit your lip, cheeks flaming. You were humiliated. What were you thinking, trying to kiss him? He obviously wasn’t attracted to you; the weird, pathetic crazy time-traveller. You didn’t even belong here anyway, how could you possibly think he would want you? Your eyes began to well up, you just had to get out of there.

As you quickly began to gather your clothes and phone, furiously wiping the tears from your eyes, Roger returned with a fur coat in his arms.

“Here, this should fit – wait, what’s wrong?” he asked, realising your state.

“I’m just gonna go. I’m so sorry to have invaded your life like this, you shouldn’t have to deal with my weird ass problems. Thank you for everything. It was nice meeting you, I guess. I’ll never forget you,” you rambled, becoming increasingly embarrassed, trying to walk past him. He gently placed his hands on your upper arms, turning you to face him.

“Hey, hey, I don’t have to help you, okay? I want to. If you’ll let me.” he said, a surprisingly vulnerable look on his face.

“But, I’m burdening you too much! You can’t have me holding you back from living your normal life. You don’t want me clinging to your side like some kind of….” You paused, struggling to find the right words in your frazzled state. “Some kind of leech. I mean, I’m just annoying. For God’s sake, we have nothing in common! I’m technically young enough to be your daughter!”

Roger laughed softly. “Okay, first of all, you’re not a leech. And yes, it’s weird that you’re from the future, and I’ll probably never wrap my head around it, but so what? We shouldn’t get along, but we do.” You hoped he couldn’t notice your blush at this.

“And, lastly,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his face, “the thought of you being my daughter is gross, but me being your daddy on the other hand…”

“Oh my god, Roger! No!” you couldn’t help but laugh, as you rapidly shook your head. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not; you secretly hoped he wasn’t.

“So, do you still wanna come to rehearsal?” he asked, all joking aside.

You sighed, hoping you weren’t being a burden. “Okay, give me that then,” you grabbed the coat off him, pulling it on.

“Do I look normal?” you asked.

“No,” he smirked, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “In a good way, though. Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. You tried to ignore the jolts of electricity you felt from this sweet gesture. You never thought simply holding hands with someone would give you so many butterflies.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #queen #queen band #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #queen imagine #fanfic #queen fanfic

[tayegi]

Lu new rules is always worth the wait. I love it when the OC stood up to him. And Jungkook being whatever he’s trying to do is leaving us in suspense. But last the scene is perfect. I can picture that scene as if I was watching a drama. Especially when she say “it’ll be easy getting over you” and turn around VERY slowly. Gosh I just want to cry cause it’s beautifully written. JK probably scare that he’s not good enough for her?JEON JUNGKOOK you get on my nerves but I still love him.

jjiritjjiritgirl said:ohmygod the new chapter for new rules is so good ohmygod like i had to pause a lot when oc was calling jungkook out for being a coward. i wasnt the one going off but DAMN that felt good.

luxinfired said:OH SHIT I JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT THE NR UPDATE KXJABGZGQGHS Girl your writing is the best thing in the world! I love OC, she showed us her vulnerable side but then she goes and confronts Jungkook like that! That last scene was amazing, you tell them girl! Also I loved the conversation with Yoongi, I'm glad she was able to empathize with him immediately. I really want Yerin and him to find their own happiness, they deserve it~ Thank you for this wonderful piece of writing 💜

Anonymous said:jungkook a whole ass idiot

Anonymous said:Hi Lu!! U probably ddnt receive my ask from last time as well so Im writing this again! Well I just want to tell you that NR.11 WAS FUCKING AMAZING AND I'M SO SATISFIED WITH IT AND I CRIED! at first I expected OC to just yell at JK for his reaction when she confessed, thn have him tell her his story BUT SHIT SEEM SO DEEP HOLY SHIT! I feel so bad for oc and for the fact that she felt the need to say sorry? Thats kinda fucked up but I believe that's bc she was pretty shocked by his reaction[1–❄️🐰

Anonymous said:Also maybe I'm not the only one hatin' on JK, but damn boi better have a GOOD excuse to why the fuck is he being a pain in the ass, I mean.. I don't wanna judge him for his choices, but thats exactly what I wanna do BYE/ but like im pretty sure that he's been acting like a jerk to 'help OC get rid of her cancerous feelings' cuz I dnt think that he sees HER as a prob-in fact, he actually rly likes her- but he just cnt seem to accept her feelings that's so absurd.. [2—❄️🐰

Anonymous said:Like he was so happy to see her when he was with his team but once he remembered that he was supposed to ignore her he acted like he ddnt want to see her. And I really dnt know which part was he so embarrassed about when she came in calling him out in his own frat; was it bc she exposed his whipped ass in front of his we-dnt-do-feelings™ buddies? Or was it bc of sth else AMMA FUCKING SNAP! [3—❄️🐰

Anonymous said:And I really think that when OC told him that it's gonna be so easy to get over him now that he showed his true colors, like, I really think that it was a slap to his face. Cuz deep down, I dnt think he wants her to get over him and I know that shit will go down from here when the entire frat is mocking OC's speech, JM will know abt it, MJ might hear from him too AND HOPEFULLY SHE CAN KICK THE BULLSHIT OUT OF JK ONCE MORE! gosh Lu thank u so much for this amazing fic💕 u make my days😭[4/4]—❄️🐰

Anonymous said:holy mother of god wOW emphasis on the OW NR11 !!! Lu my god, idk how you've gotten me to love getting stabbed in the heart like this but !!! :,( thank you so much for updating and incorporating toxic masculinity and gaslighting into this chapter, they're such important issues and i just wish OC didn't have to deal with their effects. idk how long you're planning on making NR, all i hope for is that someone will treat OC right by the end *side-eyes JK, whispers "get it together, fool"*

Anonymous said:Thank you so much for yet another amazing chapter of NR!! I love how you write with so much detail about the thoughts of the OC when jk rejects her. For me, it heightens the emotions of the story so much and i love that I can feel what the OC feels - the initial embarrassment, the sadness, the anger. I also loved how the OC confronted JK and didn’t just dismiss her own emotions, acknowledging that they’re just as valid as JKs. Thank!!! You!!! :)

Anonymous said:hi lu! just wanted to day i love nr and that i appreciate the messages that you put in your writing. especially with the latest chapter, i relate so much to what nr yoongi is going through, and seeing that was a wonderful reminder that im not alone in this situation and that when you reach out, people will support you. again, thank you so much for writing and sharing these stories with us and i hope that you yourself have an amazing group of people who support and love you 💚💜

Anonymous said:I feel like waste it on me fits as bg music to the situation JK and OC are in after her confession in NR lol.. but anyways, just finished reading the latest chapter and wow. So many emotions. I'm so glad OC finally confronted JK, i love her fiery personality! Your writing really has me immersed in my own little bubble as I put myself in OC's shoes. Looking forward to the rest when the time comes, i'm curious to find out JK's backstory. Great work, Lu! 💕

Anonymous said:Ahh I just finished the update and its so heart wrenching. The emotions were so raw and realistic. And as hard as it was to read the pain the OC had to go through, I'm excited that either way things are moving in a new direction. She can't keep suppressing her feelings forever. Admitting feelings can be so difficult but afterwards its so freeing knowing that you're not holding anything back and being honest with yourself. I'm looking forward to the growth this will bring all of the characters.

Anonymous said:I just caught up to new rules and wow as someone who experienced a heartbreak that I never want to go through again THAT SHIT HURTED I felt the emotions of the o/c yelling at jungkook out of frustration and anger highkey wish I could’ve confronted the person that I had a relationship with in that manner yk to get it out of the system I think that way the healing is a faster process because you aren’t having an internal dialogue of what you could’ve said etc wow thank you for writing new rules! x

Anonymous said:I love the new NR chapter! It definitely hit home when you described how the OC felt after she got rejected. I love the end in this chapter. I love the OC's confrontation. I wish I could be a woman on a mission like her too. Yoongi's character got me namshooketh btw. I love how you added the lgbtq aspect into this fic. Everything about it is so realistic. And I love the gaslighting part in her confrontation so much! This is such a beautifully written fanfic. 😭❤

bekzzz said:You know what I really appreciate about New Rules. Mijoo and the Readers friendship. I love how they stuck together after everything. I also love how the reader is trying to reclaim her self esteem. I think calling Jungkook out was amazing for her. Also, maybe for him it will help him figure out his own feelings. Love is okay, being romantic is okay. It doesn't diminish masculinity or make someone weak. Thanks for this amazing update! Till next time.

Anonymous said:holy moly, new rules was eventful. i felt so much secondhand embarrassment when she was *rejected* by jk, and really hated nr jk for how he reacted... and then when oc, yerin and mijoo were together, and she felt like she needed to be the strong one. i really fucking felt that. it felt like a punch to the gut. but oc’s comments to jk really got me, and i have so much respect for her, yet pity her at the same time... as well as jk. thank you for the amazing update!! 😘 ly babe

Anonymous said:Dear god my heart was pounding all throughout that chapter lmao. How the heck you gotta get me so involved my body freaks out whenever you update New Rules? For real tho I feel for Yoongi- I know what it's like to have people be ready to ridicule and drop you for something you can't change about yourself, so that got me real good. I do hope that JK and MC are able to work themselves out they are by far one of the most interesting pairings I've read about thus far (praying for a happy ending)

Anonymous said:HOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOD! I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS! Girl, you threw me for a loop. JK's reaction was pretty close to what I thought it would be, albeit more hostile which makes me so fucking curious like BABY WHO HURT YOU?!?!?! Yoongi turning Yerin down because he's gay just wow. I had zero inclination until the second he said it and the whole conversation was just gorgeous. And that final stomp into the frat house and speech were just glorious. Thank you my love

Anonymous said:first of all i want to thank you for the new chapter, it was such a surprise since you was so busy these past months so thank you for taking some time to write. now about the new chapter... my heart was beating so fucking fast the whole time, it’s amazing how well you’re able to express the feelings of the characters and make us all (well at least me) fell connected to the story. i’ve said this before, but the most amazing thing about nr (beside the plot & characters) is how relatable it is

Anonymous said:🎃(1) OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO CUTE AND AT SOME POINTS I AM not making any sense so be prepared 😥 💜💜 I hope I don't bore you /// Ok, here we go. ( /// means another scene or change of subject and --- means same scene but next line. Also I'll use the 🎃 emoji for Halloween's sake 😊) Damn that's gonna be so long 😥 oh well. /// Akakakakak first of all, great start! It lights up the heavy mood. And tbh who wouldn't get distracted from a half naked jk. 😏 ///

Anonymous said:🎃(2)Akskfhlskfajfkf I'm smiling. My heart is clenched tho. (I'm reading the kiss scene in the beginning) /// Why do I feel him saying I like you too won't be the way our oc means. My heart is confused. --- Fuck. --- Fuuuck... ///Ok, there's no way he would look at her with disgust. Come on giiirl. Don't fall for the lies our brain tells us. ---Ok, scratch that last. WHAT THE FUCK JEON JUNGKOOK. 😬 ----I wanna hug the oc and tell her that he is afraid and stupid for acting that way.

Anonymous said:🎃(3) That she is more than what she thinks. And like wtf he might be a star athlete and a stund but wtf about not being good enough?! Askfkddskkas. fuuck. //// You are not supposed to be fucking anything. Let it ouuut. They love you and it will help.--- Ok I get the point with it not being about you. (Ahahahahaha I'm on a roller coaster, sawrryyy) ---- Oh yaaaasss, I liiive for angry oc! You go guurl! ---- Well, if he is gay that would explain a lot. --

Anonymous said:🎃(4) ---"Trust me when I say that it would be entirely impossible with me" bruh. He is gay. --- Oh shit, he is gay...... 😶 ---- Now I'm sad. Ahahah and now I wanna hug him too . And I love the oc for being a good friend and I love that he reminds me of one of my closest friends being a tsundere.😢 /// Way to go yoongles, woop woop!! that sonofabiish. 🌚🌚---Wow when yoongi relaxed I realised I was holding my breath. Wtf ahahaha

Anonymous said:🎃(5) /// Aish. I'm getting angry at jk and angry at the oc for taking his bullshit and not being angry ahahah. ----- WHAT THE FUCK JEON KUNGKOOK WHY YOU BEING SO "TOUGH" AND "MANLY" YOU FUCKIN FUCKER 👿 (about him smiling at first and then being fake macho) ----- My eyes grew when you wrote she headed to jk frathouse 👀 --- I'm crossing my fingers for a buttkicking session, sth like mijoo did to the oc. Maybe a power point presentation of why he likes her too. Ahahah ---

Anonymous said:Ooo girl I am FIRED UP. You write so well that I can always fell the emotions OC feels. I was sad and hurt, shocked, and really mad. JK is such an asshole for making OC feel like her feelings weren't valid. He really does need to grow up. Good on OC for realizing that. And I don't know why he's putting up such a front when he's been such a good person thus far but BITCH IT BEST BE A GOOD REASON. So I'm assuming yerin has got the bad ending? Bc she doesn't know about yoongi being gay n shes hurt?

Anonymous said:(1/3🧟‍♂️) New Rules is probably my favorite non-published work that I’ve ever read and I really just want to thank you for being willing to share your writing with us! So, I feel like a lot went down in this chapter. I saw another anon say they thought Jk’s issues stemmed from a previous relationship. The girl probably made him feel like relationships in general are toxic, and as a result he’s completely unwilling to put himself in that kind of vulnerable position again? (1/3)

Anonymous said:(2/3🧟‍♂️) Similar to how the oc is feeling about being rejected, like she was stupid to let herself feel something for him, that’s why I think her barging in and calling him out in front of his friends got to him. (2/3)

Anonymous said:(3/3🧟‍♂️) All in all though, this chapter was really well written (like they all are lol) and I just wanted to take a moment to let you know how much I appreciate all the work you put into your writings bc they’ve really inspired me to educate myself on feminism and just a lot of things in general I’d never thought about before. Thanks again, Lu! I hope you have a wonderful week 💜💜 (3/3)

Anonymous said:wow lu, thank you for the newest nr update! my thoughts on my first reading: jungkook's reaction was shocking for the emotional side of me, not the logical side. I still feel for oc tho. yoongi being gay? didnt expect that & now I feel bad for assuming his sexuality, glad he talked to OC abt it bc it must have been hard to hold that secret. oc calling out jungkook? shes much braver than me, & I agree, jk's actions seem off. will reread & send reactions after, again thank you for writing/sharing!

There is literally nothing i love more than reading your thoughts and reactions!!! i have no idea how my writing will affect others, so to hear this is the most rewarding thing ever. thank you so much my lovely, passionate readers. You mean the world to me!!!

#new rules #new rules ch 11 #lanalanexpjm

[nebulawriter]

The Christmas Prince: Blind Review

Okay. So this has been in my recommendations on Netflix for a while and it always looks so strange to me. I thought I’d put it on and see what it was about for a night in. 

It started out with some classic pictures of new york with the MUSIC from Jingle Bell Rock, but with weird different lyrics pulled from other christmas songs. 

Strap in folks. We’re in for a ride.

Well this is starting out like every romantic comedy ever. But kudos to ‘Ugly Christmas Sweaters of the Stars’

Aldovia is definitely just Not-Genovia. My goodness. 

Why...is...is this junior editor at a fashion thing covering an international scandal thing? Why aren’t...you know what, nope. nope we’re just gonna ride this out. 

I mean I can already see the formula played out for this rom-com but lets see if there are any surprises

Oh my god. 

This guy is the ultimate gay friend stereotype

Okay I like the dad. 

OH MY GOD the exposition in this movie is just...so on the nose. Just. 

That was the prince, wasn’t it

Like I get that this foreign wedding isn’t the sexiest thing for an american paper...whatever this paper is...but like. I feel like they would either depend on another paper for the news or like. not send a writer at all if they didn’t have one. 

THE ACTING IN THIS MOVIE MY GOD. “More like he’s avoiding the press” *head bob*

THE EXPOSITION IN THIS MOVIE

wow this is. I mean, it’s not like ridiculously laughably bad but its just...not good. 

What are the stakes for why she can’t go home empty handed? I’d have thought she’d WANT to go home, seeing its christmas and she was reluctant to come. But its not like this is her LAST chance at the big break. And him not showing up is still news like, write about that???

THIS ENTIRE PLOT IS BASED OFF OF PURE COINCIDENCE

AAAAAAAA

Aww cute lil girl. 

OH MY GOD SHE BROKE A VASE 

IS THIS ABOUT TO TURN INTO OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB

That castle is definitely a model. 

THE STAKES HERE ARE SO LOW. And why does this level of infiltration need to be necessary for such a low level story?

This acting is going to kill me. 

This is either disability representation or disability porn and I’m leaning towards the porn. 

was that supposed to be her finding him attractive?

This is either bad acting, bad writing or both. I’m inclined to think both.

DICK JOKE

oh god. this is every goddamn romance movie except with so little romance. 

What’s the story they’re investigating? The guy said they’d be having the coronation. Like. Thats the story.

Let me guess. The evil dick cousin takes the throne if the prince abdicates oh my GOD this movie is painful. 

Alright, they’re leaning away from the porn part and moving more into the representation for disability. 

ANOTHER DICK JOKE

YOU COULDN’T HAVE FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS LINE OF SUCCESSION THING OFF GOOGLE OR SOMETHING??

Oh my god a cocky vulnerable asshole he’s literally EVERY Rom com hero oh my GOD

SHE HAS NOT SHOWN ANY SIGNS OF ATTRACTION

and how much does gay bff know about royalty?

I get it. Simon’s an asshole. 

This acting. 

New woman. The rival lover?

This movie is every rom com. Every. Single. One. I’ve never seen them so thoroughly condensed. 

BROOKLYN NINE NINES UP! MOVIE BREAK

okay back to hell

Ah yes, the love rival whom the mother approves of, but the boyfriend doesn’t love anymore. 

she’s...writing...those notes are terrible

I....do like the little girl. Still trying to figure out if they’re just using the disability for sympathy points. But like. She does have a character and I do like her, so I’ll go with it. 

Either way its still the best part of this movie. 

im so bored.

this prince. is so. boring. 

WHAT THE HELL KINDA CHRISTMAS GAME IS THAT

How did THAT reporter get so close to the princess?

Like doesn’t she have guards?

you know, come to think of it, there are probably no guards in all of Aldovia

Richard ain’t gonna show. 

Called it. 

Oh my god why are they surprised Prince Flake disappeared?

yup, he’s ACTUALLY cute and charming. Of course. 

What I want: They change the laws for Emily to inherit the throne, but the Queen rules until she turns 18. 

Yup. There is 0 security in Aldovia

Sledding is cute. 

Literally just...cut the prince out of this movie. Just completely. 

Just make it about the sister, and how there’s no direct male heir. 

I’ve seen plenty movies where the women is just a sexy lamp but honestly the guy here is so easy to remove from this romance. 

This could be such a sweet platonic sister-y movies. 

This is....cute but doesn’t provide any dramatic tension really. Like, at all. 

I hate her notes so much. Partially cause they’re like mine, but she’s a reporter she should know better. 

I mean, they’re friends now, right? Why not just ask prince (Or Emily, honestly) why he doesn’t want the throne. 

ARE THERE NO STABLE BOYS HERE IN ALDOVIA EITHER????

YOURE TRUSTING THE HORSE TO KNOW WHERE ITS GOING????

Have you ever even ridden before?

what...what is happening.

Does the prince come to her rescue.

Alright, that shot was stolen STRAIGHT from Beauty and the Beast. 

THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE IS LITERALLY JUST A SCENE LIFTED FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!

Did they just forget to write a scene and so inserted one from another movie and then write around that?

oh my god this was so boring I almost missed the heart to heart. 

oh, emotional truths in movies are never good when it starts with “You’ll just think I’m a spoiled rich kid anyway”

well, I mean, if your father wrote your mother a riddle that you can’t figure out....I’m assuming SHE can. Right?

that almost-kiss was so forced.

We’re nearing the part where ‘everything goes wrong’

Wait a sec, this is deviating a bit

HO CRAP

How’d she get all this. 

Why tell your best friends about this whole thing? Prince was adopted. Huh. 

Again, stakes. Why do we care that her ‘career’ will be made. 

oh my god. of course. The accidental ‘saw the other girl kiss him’ moment

oh my god.I eye rolled so hard it hurt

“If you like the way you look that much, then baby you should go and love yourself”

YOUR GOING. TO EXPOSE THE STORY. THAT HE WAS ADOPTED. BECAUSE HE KISSED ANOTHER GIRL?????

I give up. 

Thank you, dispensary of fatherly advice. 

well. one thing taken care of. 

What happened to the horse who bucked her off anyway?

Ah yes. The good ole romcom trope. “There’s something that I need to tell you” Man swoops in for kiss. 

my god

Sigh. The rival and the skeevy cousin team up. 

oh no they’re going to find the adoption papers. Dickholes. 

Dammit they successfully made me hate them for hurting the good guys. Fuck. 

Him being adopted explains the GIANT AGE difference between him and his sister, though

What did he say? What...what’s happening?

yeah yeah, the son is afraid of not living up to his dad

OH MY GOD THE PALACE IS TOTALLY A MODEL

.....I do like the little girl. 

Seriously why isn’t this story just about the little girl? 

Get rid of the Prince he’s unnecessary

Make it all about ableism and sexism and blah blah and people trying to deny Emily the throne. Maybe even make HER the adopted one and talk about not-blood families and their importance.

Ah, the makeover section of the romcom has started. 

oh look, its her in an updo and a fancier dress. 

Oooh, smokey eye too. nice. 

Honestly I didn’t think the love rival was so bad at the start. but I think they just didn’t know what to do with her so decided to make her a stereotype. 

Call him Dick.

(his name is prince richard. they should call him a dick.)

I enjoy that she’s wearing sneakers under her dress, I admit. 

Does she even know how to dance?

I guess so

Or not, they clearly choreographed this right before shooting. 

everyone else in the scene is clearly professional dancers, and there the main characters are. Swaying. 

Seriously? One song in and they go to the main event?

The cousin and the rival are going to do something dramatic, aren’t they?

Is this like a marriage? I don’t think people dispute coronations during the ceremony.

Okay, but they need time to like. Verify things right? 

Like. Why does everyone suddenly believe them? and...I just...what?

WHY WOULD SHE ADMIT THAT RIGHT NOW IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY?! COME ON THIS SHOULD GO SOMEWHERE PRIVATE RIGHT? WITH LIKE? 

Oh god this is so...artificial and junk. 

‘things just got so out of hand’

i admit, it’s a PRETTY model of a palace. 

this whole thing is just. so contrived. 

Really? ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Wasn’t a royal birth like....news? in this country?

Aw, mother/son seen. good. 

They got married before the coronation?

What happens if the time runs out? Like. Will they just. Not have a king anymore?

Like what kind of stupid rule?

Seriously, the dad character, his entire dialogue is just fatherly advice. 

Okay. So what I’m getting here is the king hid something in the acorn ornament he made? but. Why did he hide it?

Oh wow, there actually ARE guard in the country.

they might not have a dungeon, but they have jails, surely?

WHY DID HE PLAY WITH RIDDLES!! THE DEAD KING IS AN ASSHAT!!!

hey, there looks like some equality with gender in the quorum of kings council. but like. Its really white. 

See, Emily continues to be the only good thing in this movie. 

This whole thing is so arbitrary, why not. 

Oh look and now he can be king. Why didn’t he want to be king before? Anyway?

Seriously Sophia, make sure he’s King BEFORE you marry of him, geez. 

And he’s king. Cool. 

But where’s the girl? :O

now he has to chase after her and they kiss and then happily ever after. Right?

okay, so she made it to New York. Cool. 

Do they not like puff pieces? This is the obvious blah thing. 

Girl that is a dream job for a wanna be journalist in your 20s. Good lord. 

AHHH I HATE THIS

She has a date? oh. Setup. got it. 

These side characters have no depth at all. They are black best friend and gay best friend. 

Where is he. There he is.

THEY LET THE KING OF A COUNTRY WANDER THE STREETS OF NEW YORK WITH NO GUARDS????

oh, just skippin straight to the proposal. mkay. 

THEY MET TWO WEEKS AGO

hehehhehe my brain had a dirty thought. 

there it is

I can feel Elsa shouting “YOU CANT MARRY A MAN YOU JUST MET”

I could have sworn that ring was purple a second ago. now its blue, 

K

3 minutes left. please let most of those be credits. 

ah yes. Circle cam around this OBVIOUS STAGE SET

No new york street looks like that.

AND WE DIDNT EVEN GET TO SEE EMILY AGAIN.

Welp. Can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into. 

#The Christmas Prince

[gaarfielf]

time for a scathing review of the steven universe movie

under cut for obvious reasons jdkfgjf

- the movie from the get go can't place its target audience, including a flurry of songs about the characters that are simultaneously too generic to tell any new watchers who these characters are and too long for the regular watchers to understand why its there if not for padding

- When i started watching the movie i kept messaging my friend who'd seen it first to ask if i was missing part of it bc i had no fucking idea what was happening and they helpfully informed me that the film just starts out that clumsy on its own

- Let Us Adore You was such a bizarre song to start the movie off with and was very clearly going to be used later for a different character bc none of the lyrics apply to steven at all and yet its being sung to steven so they can make a call back to it later in the movie. i mean seriously the song is them singing about how steven was close to Rose which just isnt further from the truth

- they wrote connie out of the movie. when they could have just not written her into the movie in the first place just to be written out of

- the A plot (if you can call it that) is the gems being reset to their first state of being and now they feel the need to fulfill their homeworld duties which makes no sense bc the series spent countless episodes establishing that every duty performed by homeworld gems is done out of fear and not out of desire to fulfill these tasks except perhaps in a stockolhm way (ie 'if i do this demeaning task properly then maybe i'll be rewarded for it)

- pearl sings a song about loving being a slave

- pearl only gains her memories back after Greg and Steven's fusion sing an R&B song to her. for some reason showing her images of Rose didn't affect her literally at all but watching a big hairy man with a guitar did

- opal is in this scene. for some reason.

- also steven mentioned immediately before this scene he couldn't use his powers bc his gem had been reset so i guess thats done

- theres a jarring cut immediately after the R&B song that goes on for way too fuckin long where they all unfuse and steven looks like he's been hit by a bus. quite frankly thats how i felt watching this whole fuckin mess anyhow

- amethyst's memory scene began with 'the only way we can get her memory back is through dance' despite all the gems being dance inclined, not just amethyst. idk if the creators just forgot the whole aesthetic of the gems being built around music/dance but i sure didn't

- garnet's memory scene- actually no every scene with garnet was a scene we've seen before (try saying that 3 times fast) and nothing was added to her character (or any character really) the whole entire time. she sings a song about fusing which was titled "Pleasure" and it was like watching her character being flushed down a toilet bowl. remember the whole "we are two parts that make one person we are made of love" message from all the ruby sapphire episodes? imagine that episode which on first watch was so tender and cute and added so much depth to garnet's character? now picture it where their relationship is just odd and whiny and mostly inconveniencing everyone and... there you have it. that's her arc.

- also x2 sapphie and ruby are just completely oblivious to almost everything happening around them. the second they’re reset they ask absolutely no questions and just stand in whatever spot is most convenient for whatever scene theyre in. im p sure they sang a song about tricking them into fusing right in front of them and neither of them reacted

- also x3 can i just mention how fuckin creepy it was that in the same movie where Garnet sings a song about how fusing is an act of pleasure also has a scene where a father and son fuse. i felt like my fuckin fingers had just been slammed in a drawer watchin this

- spinel started as the bane of my existence and ended up being the only thing getting me through this disaster of a movie. her villain song is the definition of too long but her backstory song was literally the only good song written for this movie that sounded like a steven universe song with thought and care put into it

- stevens a dick through this whole movie he just screams at people and makes people feel bad about each other and then ends it with 'EVERYTHING CAN BE FIXED THROUGH FRIENDSHIP' and much like everybody watching the movie spinel was like 'so you only befriended me to turn off the world ending machine?' and steven just blurts out 'uh yeah duh' and spinel goes villain mode again. which was just the tackiest and most obvious form of padding ive ever seen in my life and just made me wish steven would lose, just this once yk

- why is steven 16 in this movie. it has no bearing on the plot. the literal only difference is that he has a neck.

- i think theres actual blood shown in the movie which again makes me wonder who the target audience is

- SPINEL COMES DOWN IN A GIANT NEEDLE SHIP, SHE ANNOUNCES THAT THE SHIP IS CALLED THE INJECTOR, THERE IS A LIQUID LEAKING INTO EARTH FROM THE INJECTOR, STEVEN GOES AND ASKS PERIDOT WHAT THE MACHINE DOES, AFTER A LONG SCENE OF INVESTIGATING, PERIODT CONCLUDES IT’S INJECTING POISON INTO THE EARTH. STEVEN IS SHOCKED TO HEAR THIS. STEVEN, WHO HAS SEEN MANY MANY GEMS COME AND TRY TO KILL HIM, IS SURPRISED TO HEAR THAT THE GEM WHO JUST SANG A SONG ABOUT KILLING HIM AND ALL HIS FRIENDS IS DOING SOMETHING “NOT GOOD”

- also x4 its never explained how spinel got a battleship when she was in a weaponless garden for 6000 years and also she was a jester not even a fighting class gem but go off i guess

- after over a hundred episodes in a childrens cartoon establishing you don't have to be tied to societies expectations of you as a person spinel leaves her life as a common fool that entertains the higher ups to become... a common fool who entertains the higher ups. the diamonds sing the Let Us Adore You Reprise (remember earlier?) and surprise surprise the lyrics actually apply to her and they all live happily ever after. Except Spinel is still a jester. She just went from being one persons jester to a different persons jester. but now she's fine with it. ok.

- oh and sadie sings an ok song in the movie too. just wanted to give my girl some deserved credit she sang the only song i think i actually sought out after watching aside from Drift Away (Spinel’s backstory song)

#i wont tag it #again for obvious reasons

[apsbicepstraining]

Psycho thrillers: five movies that educate us how the attention cultivate

Power, savagery, fatality and reality the movies can educate us plenty about lifes large-scale concerns. From the Godfather to Groundhog Day, five psychologists pick the cinemas that tell us what realizes humen tick

Ten days ago in London, the Hungarian director Lszl Nemes hosted a preview screening of his film, Son of Saul. He explained that if beings didnt want to stay for the Q& A afterwards, that was fine; he wouldnt take personal offence. The gathering chuckled politely. Thats the last laugh youll have for a while, he told them.

Son of Saul Photograph: Rex/ Shutterstock

He was right: Son of Saul out in the UK on Friday is what you might call a taxing watch. Set in Auschwitz in 1944, it presents a era in living conditions of a Sonderkommando, a Jewish captive forced to work in the gas chambers, disposing of the deaths organizations. Almost every frame is filled by the beyond brutalised face of a mortal fated to die and already living in hell.

The film armies you to grapple with “the worlds largest” frightening moral selections imaginable. Should you delude your fellow prisoners into thinking theyre just going for a shower? Can you square a duty to truth-telling with a responsibility not to justification farther damage? Son of Saul requests topics few dare to pose about the human condition. Numerous movies from the sacred to the debase do the same. Here, five leading psychologists look at the classic movies that explore how human beings work.

Groundhog Day by Philippa Perry

Freud caused his patients the chance to re-edit their narrations

Andie MacDowell and Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Image: Allstar/ Columbia

In Groundhog Day, weatherman Phil Connors lives the same day over and over again. At one point, he has a schmooze in a forbid with two drinks: What would you do if you were stuck in one region and every day was exactly the same and good-for-nothing you did mattered? That simply summing-ups it up for me, replies the wino. Summarizes it up for a lot of us.

Freud inspired patients to tell their narratives and got them to free-associate around their narrative to find out how they thought and experienced about themselves. This rendered his patients the chance to relive, re-examine and maybe re-edit their narrations in terms of the room they impart themselves in the present. Our earliest context has a profound impact upon the americans and anatomies, to a great extent, how we watch and interact with the world.

When we firstly satisfied Connors, played by Bill Murray, whatever happened to him in his past has shaped him grumpy, contemptuous, disruptive and insulting. He is trapped in the narcissistic defence of assuming he is superior to everyone else and we consider parties being circumspect around him and not enjoying his company. In psychotherapy, we often talking here self-fulfilling revelation if you expect everyone not to like you, you behave defensively and, hey presto, your prophecy starts true-life. Being caught in the same day is a metaphor for how he is stuck in this pattern.

Groundhog day also illustrates object relations belief: the hypothesi of how we find bad objects( a negative influence from our past) in objectives that are around us in the present. To find our bad object we search for and find negative characteristics even when, in other peoples sees, there used to be none. For precedent, at the Groundhog Day gala that Phil reports on from the small town of Punxsutawney, he can only determine hypocrisy and satire, whereas the TV creator, Rita( Andie MacDowell ), discovers the grace of institution and the delight it brings to the people. In object relations theory, the relevant recommendations is that the psychoanalyst was becoming good object for the patient, and with the psychoanalysts facilitation individual patients learns good objects where hitherto they could not. Rita is Phils good object and the catalyst in Phils transformation. Her influence begins to rub off. He detects the joy of educating himself in literature, art and music. He acquires out about beings, assisting them and befriending them rather than writing them off and finds out that this has its own reward.

The tradition of Punxsutawney is that if the groundhog, too called Phil, can see its shadow on Groundhog Day, the town will get six more weeks of winter. It takes Phil the weatherman quite a long time to see his darknes more, but when at last he does, the working day miraculously moves on. In Jungian assumption, the darknes refers to negative various aspects of your own personality that you reject and project on to others. There are also positive aspects to the darknes that is still conceal from consciousness. Jung said that everyone carries a shadow and that the less it is embodied in the individuals awareness life, the darker and more destructive it has the potential to be.

Although we dont have the indulgence of living in the same day for as long as it is also necessary in order to recognise how we sabotage ourselves, our missteps do have a garb of happening often enough for us to become aware of them. What remains of our lifespan is hour enough to do something about it.

Philippa Perry is a psychotherapist and the author of the graphic tale Couch Fiction .

The Godfather by Steven Pinker

It explains why the impulse for savagery derived to be a selective programme

James Caan and Marlon Brando in The Godfather Photograph: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

The Godfather is not an obvious choice for a mental movie, but its stylised, witticised savagery alleges often about human nature.

Except in war zones, beings are extraordinarily unlikely to die from savagery. Yet from the Iliad through video games, our species has always apportioned time and resources to destroying simulations of violence.The brain seems to run on the adage: If you want quietnes, prepare for conflict. We are mesmerized by the logic of promontory and menace, the psychology of alliance and sellout, the vulnerabilities of their own bodies and how they can be employed or shielded. A likely interpretation is that in our evolutionary record, brutality be a major enough threat to fitness that everyone had to understand how it works.

Among the many subgenres of violent presentation, one with perennial appeal to brows both high and low is the Hobbesian thriller a storey set in a circumscribed zone of chao that saves the familiar trappings of our times, but in which the exponents must live beyond the reach of the modern leviathan( the police and judiciary ), with its monopoly on the legitimate use of force. Examples include westerns, spy thrillers, battlefield dramas, zombie holocausts, seat tale and movies about organised criminal. In a smuggled economy, you cant sue your rivals or call the police, so the credible menace( and occasional expend) of violence is your one protection.

The godfather of Mafia movies is, of course, Francis Ford Coppolas The Godfather trilogy. The screenplays are a goldmine for remarks on the human condition in a state of nature, beyond such constraints of modern institutions. Four wrinkles stand out: in the opening stage, Vito Corleone, having promised to mete out some bumpy justice on behalf of a victimised undertaker “whove been” abandoned by the American leviathan, demonstrates how reciprocity provides as the plaster of traditional societies: Some era, and that day may never return, Ill call upon “youve got to” do a service for me. But until the working day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughters wedding day.

The opening panorama of The Godfather

Following the tragic death of his eldest son, Vito addresses the heads of the rival violation households and shows the tactical rationality of evident irrationality: Im a superstitious male. And if some unlucky coincidence should befall my son, if my son is struck by a bolt of lightning, I will accuse some of the people here. Elsewhere, he elaborates: Coincidences dont happen to people who plow collisions as a personal insult.

A foot soldier of one of these adversaries explains why the inclination for savagery advanced to be a select programme , not an indiscriminate bloodlust or a hydraulic pressing: I dont like violence, Tom. Im a businessman. Blood is a big expense.

And for all our hotheaded counsels, Michael explains the knowledge of ensure your ardours: Never hate your foes. It feigns your judgment.

Steven Pinker is Johnstone family professor of psychology at Harvard .

Rushmore by Dacher Keltner

It shows us that to consolidate in dominance, we must unite others

Jason Schwartzman in Rushmore. Photo: Rex Shutterstock

All art, French social theoretician Pierre Bourdieu debates, is an expression of social class, from the music you experience to the trinkets you put on your walls. Few cinemas, though, have undertaken the class subdivide between the haves and have-nots as imaginatively as Wes Andersons 1998 cinema Rushmore.

The film reveals at Rushmore Academy, a prep school in Houston, Texas, and tells the story of the friendship between schoolboy Max Fischer( Jason Schwartzman ), the son of a barber, and rich industrialist Herman Blume( Bill Murray ). They both fall for a lately bereaved teacher at the school( Olivia Williams ), and resort to misguided tactics to triumph her affection. As this timeless strife undoes, the film illustrates various following principles class and dominance uncovered in psychological science.

The first that affluence is rising unethical and socially detached action is on display at a birthday defendant for Blumes sons, who attend Rushmore Academy with Max. The two sons greedily shred through a collection of presents( and are most enjoyed by a crossbow ). Nearby, Blumes wife flirts blatantly with a young man, while Blume sits far away from the mayhem, languidly convulsing golf balls into his dirty pool.

The puddle vistum in Rushmore

This scene captivates recent considers showing that upper-class individuals are more disposed to impulsive and socially aloof behaviour, including misconstruing others ardours, swearing, lying in recreations to win prizes and flouting the regulation of the road.

Navigating power structure, such as prep schools, is the cause of stress for lower-class individuals, and can heighten levels of the stress-related hormone cortisol. To adapt to such social emphasizes, people from lower-class backgrounds reach out and is attached to others a second principle of class and influence. Studies find that it is parties from lower-class backgrounds who share more, collaborate, attend to others carefully and do acts that unite others, a intend by which they can rise in strength when paucity the advantages of lineage. With brilliant detail, Anderson accompanies this principle to life in Maxs defining social inclination: forming sororities. Max is at the head of every imaginable guild, including the beekeepers culture, the kung fu golf-club and the astronomy squad all touching, quaint acts that discover a deeper principle at participate: to increase in dominance, we must unite others in common cause.

Dacher Keltner is a prof of psychology at University of California, Berkeley .

Altered Nation by Sue Blackmore

It plays with the question of what we mean by reality

William Hurt in Altered Regime. Image: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

Ken Russells Altered Position is based on a wild time in the 1970 s, when a whole lot of professors took hallucinogenic drugs. One of them, John Lilly, started working with isolation containers where you swim in saltwater in total stillnes, resulting in absolute sensory deprivation with resultant vivid imagery and bizarre sensations.

The films hero is a scientist called Eddie( William Hurt) who starts experimenting with psychedelic drugs to explore other countries of consciousness and our notions of actuality. At one point he emerges from his isolation tank having been transformed into an parrot but Im not so interested in this kind of hopeless fantasy. What interests me is how the cinema manages the altered commonwealths of consciousness. We know that when you take hallucinogenic drugs of this kind, a very early hallucinations are simple, colorful, geometric decorations. Passages and spirals are common, as they are in out-of-body and near-death knowledge. The movie has batch of passageways, and a wonderful maelstrom near the end, where Eddie is being sucked away into oblivion. That is all extravagant cinema material, but the maelstrom leaves a good suffer of hallucinatory know-hows, and is rather well done.

Lilly was trying to understand the nature of actuality, and thats what this movie gamblings with. What do we make by world, regardless? You might say that what we know, and what Eddie in the film presupposed, is that there is a physical actuality and our intelligence interprets it, and that hallucinations are not real. But if you make a hallucinogenic drug into most peoples mentalities, they get remarkably similar experiences.

A lovely detail in the film is where Eddie starts for a formality with an indigenous tribe in Mexico. He is given a tonic, goes into an extreme adjusted territory and considers flows of idols coming out of his body. The hotshots are not real in the sense that there are no white-hot lights flowing from us, but lots of people who take those same doses appreciate the same thing so there is a kind of reality here, a kind of shared experience.

In consciousness analyzes, we struggle with the hard question of consciousness. It is a deep riddle how do subjective know-hows arise from objective intelligence task? We dont know. Numerous people, myself included, say there isnt actually a hard problem. We become dualists in childhood we think that recollection and psyche are divide and thats why we have a problem: how can the knowledge arise from the intelligence? Somehow, we have to see how the two are the same circumstance. Many people have these hallucinatory suffers, or go through intense customs, and claim to have achieved non-duality. We dont get that explanation in this film, but it would be amazing if we did.

Sue Blackmore is a writer, professor and visiting professor at Plymouth University .

The Seventh Seal by Susan Greenfield

Its about the psychology of parties the hope you are going to be better

Ingmar Bergmans film is so striking and implacable, unlike most movies nowadays. A knight, returning from the Crusades to plague-ridden Sweden, is visited by Death, a pale-faced, black-cloaked attribute. They play out a chess coincide which, if the cavalier triumphs, will stave off his demise.

The Seventh Seal

The fact The Seventh Seal is in black and white and was reached in the 1950 s is evidence of its staying appeal, in the same way Greek misfortune weathers it is something that speaks of eternal appraises, folks hopes and anxieties, and is not dependent on current culture. It has been satirised, most famously by Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life, in a sketch in which Death transforms up at a middle-class dinner party. Its funny, but it doesnt detract from the original, where everyone is fated at the end. It is the opposite of the joyous stops of movies we have now.

The film has a very dark, nihilistic feel to it in an age when people are soft and easy. There is one panorama where one of the specific characteristics, an actor, is up a tree, and Death comes to looked through it. He expects him who he is, and Death says he has come for him. The man adds its not his time, he has his performance to do. Death enunciates: Its cancelled. Because of death. All the fantasies and hopes you have are annulled because of death.

Im not recognizing also that Bergman was inevitably expounding any particular mental assumption, but he does talks about the silence of God, which perhaps for many parties echoes true. I think it is about the psychology of beings the hope that you are going to be better and different, to think that you can get away with things.

The knight goes to confession and starts to tell the priest about the chess move he is going make and, of course, the clergyman is Death. You cant overcome fatality and all of us are playing chess with demise, in a way hoping well be the one who wont get cancer, wont have a heart attack, that this happens to other people , not us. I think there is that mentality in numerous parties, and this film brings it home to you. I am an rosy party, and it clears me appreciate life because of its highly transient and arbitrary nature.

Susan Greenfield is a scientist, scribe, broadcaster and a member of the House of Lords .

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[apsbicepstraining]

Psycho thrillers: five movies that educate us how the attention cultivate

Power, savagery, fatality and reality the movies can educate us plenty about lifes large-scale concerns. From the Godfather to Groundhog Day, five psychologists pick the cinemas that tell us what realizes humen tick

Ten days ago in London, the Hungarian director Lszl Nemes hosted a preview screening of his film, Son of Saul. He explained that if beings didnt want to stay for the Q& A afterwards, that was fine; he wouldnt take personal offence. The gathering chuckled politely. Thats the last laugh youll have for a while, he told them.

Son of Saul Photograph: Rex/ Shutterstock

He was right: Son of Saul out in the UK on Friday is what you might call a taxing watch. Set in Auschwitz in 1944, it presents a era in living conditions of a Sonderkommando, a Jewish captive forced to work in the gas chambers, disposing of the deaths organizations. Almost every frame is filled by the beyond brutalised face of a mortal fated to die and already living in hell.

The film armies you to grapple with “the worlds largest” frightening moral selections imaginable. Should you delude your fellow prisoners into thinking theyre just going for a shower? Can you square a duty to truth-telling with a responsibility not to justification farther damage? Son of Saul requests topics few dare to pose about the human condition. Numerous movies from the sacred to the debase do the same. Here, five leading psychologists look at the classic movies that explore how human beings work.

Groundhog Day by Philippa Perry

Freud caused his patients the chance to re-edit their narrations

Andie MacDowell and Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Image: Allstar/ Columbia

In Groundhog Day, weatherman Phil Connors lives the same day over and over again. At one point, he has a schmooze in a forbid with two drinks: What would you do if you were stuck in one region and every day was exactly the same and good-for-nothing you did mattered? That simply summing-ups it up for me, replies the wino. Summarizes it up for a lot of us.

Freud inspired patients to tell their narratives and got them to free-associate around their narrative to find out how they thought and experienced about themselves. This rendered his patients the chance to relive, re-examine and maybe re-edit their narrations in terms of the room they impart themselves in the present. Our earliest context has a profound impact upon the americans and anatomies, to a great extent, how we watch and interact with the world.

When we firstly satisfied Connors, played by Bill Murray, whatever happened to him in his past has shaped him grumpy, contemptuous, disruptive and insulting. He is trapped in the narcissistic defence of assuming he is superior to everyone else and we consider parties being circumspect around him and not enjoying his company. In psychotherapy, we often talking here self-fulfilling revelation if you expect everyone not to like you, you behave defensively and, hey presto, your prophecy starts true-life. Being caught in the same day is a metaphor for how he is stuck in this pattern.

Groundhog day also illustrates object relations belief: the hypothesi of how we find bad objects( a negative influence from our past) in objectives that are around us in the present. To find our bad object we search for and find negative characteristics even when, in other peoples sees, there used to be none. For precedent, at the Groundhog Day gala that Phil reports on from the small town of Punxsutawney, he can only determine hypocrisy and satire, whereas the TV creator, Rita( Andie MacDowell ), discovers the grace of institution and the delight it brings to the people. In object relations theory, the relevant recommendations is that the psychoanalyst was becoming good object for the patient, and with the psychoanalysts facilitation individual patients learns good objects where hitherto they could not. Rita is Phils good object and the catalyst in Phils transformation. Her influence begins to rub off. He detects the joy of educating himself in literature, art and music. He acquires out about beings, assisting them and befriending them rather than writing them off and finds out that this has its own reward.

The tradition of Punxsutawney is that if the groundhog, too called Phil, can see its shadow on Groundhog Day, the town will get six more weeks of winter. It takes Phil the weatherman quite a long time to see his darknes more, but when at last he does, the working day miraculously moves on. In Jungian assumption, the darknes refers to negative various aspects of your own personality that you reject and project on to others. There are also positive aspects to the darknes that is still conceal from consciousness. Jung said that everyone carries a shadow and that the less it is embodied in the individuals awareness life, the darker and more destructive it has the potential to be.

Although we dont have the indulgence of living in the same day for as long as it is also necessary in order to recognise how we sabotage ourselves, our missteps do have a garb of happening often enough for us to become aware of them. What remains of our lifespan is hour enough to do something about it.

Philippa Perry is a psychotherapist and the author of the graphic tale Couch Fiction .

The Godfather by Steven Pinker

It explains why the impulse for savagery derived to be a selective programme

James Caan and Marlon Brando in The Godfather Photograph: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

The Godfather is not an obvious choice for a mental movie, but its stylised, witticised savagery alleges often about human nature.

Except in war zones, beings are extraordinarily unlikely to die from savagery. Yet from the Iliad through video games, our species has always apportioned time and resources to destroying simulations of violence.The brain seems to run on the adage: If you want quietnes, prepare for conflict. We are mesmerized by the logic of promontory and menace, the psychology of alliance and sellout, the vulnerabilities of their own bodies and how they can be employed or shielded. A likely interpretation is that in our evolutionary record, brutality be a major enough threat to fitness that everyone had to understand how it works.

Among the many subgenres of violent presentation, one with perennial appeal to brows both high and low is the Hobbesian thriller a storey set in a circumscribed zone of chao that saves the familiar trappings of our times, but in which the exponents must live beyond the reach of the modern leviathan( the police and judiciary ), with its monopoly on the legitimate use of force. Examples include westerns, spy thrillers, battlefield dramas, zombie holocausts, seat tale and movies about organised criminal. In a smuggled economy, you cant sue your rivals or call the police, so the credible menace( and occasional expend) of violence is your one protection.

The godfather of Mafia movies is, of course, Francis Ford Coppolas The Godfather trilogy. The screenplays are a goldmine for remarks on the human condition in a state of nature, beyond such constraints of modern institutions. Four wrinkles stand out: in the opening stage, Vito Corleone, having promised to mete out some bumpy justice on behalf of a victimised undertaker “whove been” abandoned by the American leviathan, demonstrates how reciprocity provides as the plaster of traditional societies: Some era, and that day may never return, Ill call upon “youve got to” do a service for me. But until the working day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughters wedding day.

The opening panorama of The Godfather

Following the tragic death of his eldest son, Vito addresses the heads of the rival violation households and shows the tactical rationality of evident irrationality: Im a superstitious male. And if some unlucky coincidence should befall my son, if my son is struck by a bolt of lightning, I will accuse some of the people here. Elsewhere, he elaborates: Coincidences dont happen to people who plow collisions as a personal insult.

A foot soldier of one of these adversaries explains why the inclination for savagery advanced to be a select programme , not an indiscriminate bloodlust or a hydraulic pressing: I dont like violence, Tom. Im a businessman. Blood is a big expense.

And for all our hotheaded counsels, Michael explains the knowledge of ensure your ardours: Never hate your foes. It feigns your judgment.

Steven Pinker is Johnstone family professor of psychology at Harvard .

Rushmore by Dacher Keltner

It shows us that to consolidate in dominance, we must unite others

Jason Schwartzman in Rushmore. Photo: Rex Shutterstock

All art, French social theoretician Pierre Bourdieu debates, is an expression of social class, from the music you experience to the trinkets you put on your walls. Few cinemas, though, have undertaken the class subdivide between the haves and have-nots as imaginatively as Wes Andersons 1998 cinema Rushmore.

The film reveals at Rushmore Academy, a prep school in Houston, Texas, and tells the story of the friendship between schoolboy Max Fischer( Jason Schwartzman ), the son of a barber, and rich industrialist Herman Blume( Bill Murray ). They both fall for a lately bereaved teacher at the school( Olivia Williams ), and resort to misguided tactics to triumph her affection. As this timeless strife undoes, the film illustrates various following principles class and dominance uncovered in psychological science.

The first that affluence is rising unethical and socially detached action is on display at a birthday defendant for Blumes sons, who attend Rushmore Academy with Max. The two sons greedily shred through a collection of presents( and are most enjoyed by a crossbow ). Nearby, Blumes wife flirts blatantly with a young man, while Blume sits far away from the mayhem, languidly convulsing golf balls into his dirty pool.

The puddle vistum in Rushmore

This scene captivates recent considers showing that upper-class individuals are more disposed to impulsive and socially aloof behaviour, including misconstruing others ardours, swearing, lying in recreations to win prizes and flouting the regulation of the road.

Navigating power structure, such as prep schools, is the cause of stress for lower-class individuals, and can heighten levels of the stress-related hormone cortisol. To adapt to such social emphasizes, people from lower-class backgrounds reach out and is attached to others a second principle of class and influence. Studies find that it is parties from lower-class backgrounds who share more, collaborate, attend to others carefully and do acts that unite others, a intend by which they can rise in strength when paucity the advantages of lineage. With brilliant detail, Anderson accompanies this principle to life in Maxs defining social inclination: forming sororities. Max is at the head of every imaginable guild, including the beekeepers culture, the kung fu golf-club and the astronomy squad all touching, quaint acts that discover a deeper principle at participate: to increase in dominance, we must unite others in common cause.

Dacher Keltner is a prof of psychology at University of California, Berkeley .

Altered Nation by Sue Blackmore

It plays with the question of what we mean by reality

William Hurt in Altered Regime. Image: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

Ken Russells Altered Position is based on a wild time in the 1970 s, when a whole lot of professors took hallucinogenic drugs. One of them, John Lilly, started working with isolation containers where you swim in saltwater in total stillnes, resulting in absolute sensory deprivation with resultant vivid imagery and bizarre sensations.

The films hero is a scientist called Eddie( William Hurt) who starts experimenting with psychedelic drugs to explore other countries of consciousness and our notions of actuality. At one point he emerges from his isolation tank having been transformed into an parrot but Im not so interested in this kind of hopeless fantasy. What interests me is how the cinema manages the altered commonwealths of consciousness. We know that when you take hallucinogenic drugs of this kind, a very early hallucinations are simple, colorful, geometric decorations. Passages and spirals are common, as they are in out-of-body and near-death knowledge. The movie has batch of passageways, and a wonderful maelstrom near the end, where Eddie is being sucked away into oblivion. That is all extravagant cinema material, but the maelstrom leaves a good suffer of hallucinatory know-hows, and is rather well done.

Lilly was trying to understand the nature of actuality, and thats what this movie gamblings with. What do we make by world, regardless? You might say that what we know, and what Eddie in the film presupposed, is that there is a physical actuality and our intelligence interprets it, and that hallucinations are not real. But if you make a hallucinogenic drug into most peoples mentalities, they get remarkably similar experiences.

A lovely detail in the film is where Eddie starts for a formality with an indigenous tribe in Mexico. He is given a tonic, goes into an extreme adjusted territory and considers flows of idols coming out of his body. The hotshots are not real in the sense that there are no white-hot lights flowing from us, but lots of people who take those same doses appreciate the same thing so there is a kind of reality here, a kind of shared experience.

In consciousness analyzes, we struggle with the hard question of consciousness. It is a deep riddle how do subjective know-hows arise from objective intelligence task? We dont know. Numerous people, myself included, say there isnt actually a hard problem. We become dualists in childhood we think that recollection and psyche are divide and thats why we have a problem: how can the knowledge arise from the intelligence? Somehow, we have to see how the two are the same circumstance. Many people have these hallucinatory suffers, or go through intense customs, and claim to have achieved non-duality. We dont get that explanation in this film, but it would be amazing if we did.

Sue Blackmore is a writer, professor and visiting professor at Plymouth University .

The Seventh Seal by Susan Greenfield

Its about the psychology of parties the hope you are going to be better

Ingmar Bergmans film is so striking and implacable, unlike most movies nowadays. A knight, returning from the Crusades to plague-ridden Sweden, is visited by Death, a pale-faced, black-cloaked attribute. They play out a chess coincide which, if the cavalier triumphs, will stave off his demise.

The Seventh Seal

The fact The Seventh Seal is in black and white and was reached in the 1950 s is evidence of its staying appeal, in the same way Greek misfortune weathers it is something that speaks of eternal appraises, folks hopes and anxieties, and is not dependent on current culture. It has been satirised, most famously by Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life, in a sketch in which Death transforms up at a middle-class dinner party. Its funny, but it doesnt detract from the original, where everyone is fated at the end. It is the opposite of the joyous stops of movies we have now.

The film has a very dark, nihilistic feel to it in an age when people are soft and easy. There is one panorama where one of the specific characteristics, an actor, is up a tree, and Death comes to looked through it. He expects him who he is, and Death says he has come for him. The man adds its not his time, he has his performance to do. Death enunciates: Its cancelled. Because of death. All the fantasies and hopes you have are annulled because of death.

Im not recognizing also that Bergman was inevitably expounding any particular mental assumption, but he does talks about the silence of God, which perhaps for many parties echoes true. I think it is about the psychology of beings the hope that you are going to be better and different, to think that you can get away with things.

The knight goes to confession and starts to tell the priest about the chess move he is going make and, of course, the clergyman is Death. You cant overcome fatality and all of us are playing chess with demise, in a way hoping well be the one who wont get cancer, wont have a heart attack, that this happens to other people , not us. I think there is that mentality in numerous parties, and this film brings it home to you. I am an rosy party, and it clears me appreciate life because of its highly transient and arbitrary nature.

Susan Greenfield is a scientist, scribe, broadcaster and a member of the House of Lords .

The post Psycho thrillers: five movies that educate us how the attention cultivate appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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Psycho thrillers: five movies that educate us how the attention cultivate

Power, savagery, fatality and reality the movies can educate us plenty about lifes large-scale concerns. From the Godfather to Groundhog Day, five psychologists pick the cinemas that tell us what realizes humen tick

Ten days ago in London, the Hungarian director Lszl Nemes hosted a preview screening of his film, Son of Saul. He explained that if beings didnt want to stay for the Q& A afterwards, that was fine; he wouldnt take personal offence. The gathering chuckled politely. Thats the last laugh youll have for a while, he told them.

Son of Saul Photograph: Rex/ Shutterstock

He was right: Son of Saul out in the UK on Friday is what you might call a taxing watch. Set in Auschwitz in 1944, it presents a era in living conditions of a Sonderkommando, a Jewish captive forced to work in the gas chambers, disposing of the deaths organizations. Almost every frame is filled by the beyond brutalised face of a mortal fated to die and already living in hell.

The film armies you to grapple with “the worlds largest” frightening moral selections imaginable. Should you delude your fellow prisoners into thinking theyre just going for a shower? Can you square a duty to truth-telling with a responsibility not to justification farther damage? Son of Saul requests topics few dare to pose about the human condition. Numerous movies from the sacred to the debase do the same. Here, five leading psychologists look at the classic movies that explore how human beings work.

Groundhog Day by Philippa Perry

Freud caused his patients the chance to re-edit their narrations

Andie MacDowell and Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Image: Allstar/ Columbia

In Groundhog Day, weatherman Phil Connors lives the same day over and over again. At one point, he has a schmooze in a forbid with two drinks: What would you do if you were stuck in one region and every day was exactly the same and good-for-nothing you did mattered? That simply summing-ups it up for me, replies the wino. Summarizes it up for a lot of us.

Freud inspired patients to tell their narratives and got them to free-associate around their narrative to find out how they thought and experienced about themselves. This rendered his patients the chance to relive, re-examine and maybe re-edit their narrations in terms of the room they impart themselves in the present. Our earliest context has a profound impact upon the americans and anatomies, to a great extent, how we watch and interact with the world.

When we firstly satisfied Connors, played by Bill Murray, whatever happened to him in his past has shaped him grumpy, contemptuous, disruptive and insulting. He is trapped in the narcissistic defence of assuming he is superior to everyone else and we consider parties being circumspect around him and not enjoying his company. In psychotherapy, we often talking here self-fulfilling revelation if you expect everyone not to like you, you behave defensively and, hey presto, your prophecy starts true-life. Being caught in the same day is a metaphor for how he is stuck in this pattern.

Groundhog day also illustrates object relations belief: the hypothesi of how we find bad objects( a negative influence from our past) in objectives that are around us in the present. To find our bad object we search for and find negative characteristics even when, in other peoples sees, there used to be none. For precedent, at the Groundhog Day gala that Phil reports on from the small town of Punxsutawney, he can only determine hypocrisy and satire, whereas the TV creator, Rita( Andie MacDowell ), discovers the grace of institution and the delight it brings to the people. In object relations theory, the relevant recommendations is that the psychoanalyst was becoming good object for the patient, and with the psychoanalysts facilitation individual patients learns good objects where hitherto they could not. Rita is Phils good object and the catalyst in Phils transformation. Her influence begins to rub off. He detects the joy of educating himself in literature, art and music. He acquires out about beings, assisting them and befriending them rather than writing them off and finds out that this has its own reward.

The tradition of Punxsutawney is that if the groundhog, too called Phil, can see its shadow on Groundhog Day, the town will get six more weeks of winter. It takes Phil the weatherman quite a long time to see his darknes more, but when at last he does, the working day miraculously moves on. In Jungian assumption, the darknes refers to negative various aspects of your own personality that you reject and project on to others. There are also positive aspects to the darknes that is still conceal from consciousness. Jung said that everyone carries a shadow and that the less it is embodied in the individuals awareness life, the darker and more destructive it has the potential to be.

Although we dont have the indulgence of living in the same day for as long as it is also necessary in order to recognise how we sabotage ourselves, our missteps do have a garb of happening often enough for us to become aware of them. What remains of our lifespan is hour enough to do something about it.

Philippa Perry is a psychotherapist and the author of the graphic tale Couch Fiction .

The Godfather by Steven Pinker

It explains why the impulse for savagery derived to be a selective programme

James Caan and Marlon Brando in The Godfather Photograph: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

The Godfather is not an obvious choice for a mental movie, but its stylised, witticised savagery alleges often about human nature.

Except in war zones, beings are extraordinarily unlikely to die from savagery. Yet from the Iliad through video games, our species has always apportioned time and resources to destroying simulations of violence.The brain seems to run on the adage: If you want quietnes, prepare for conflict. We are mesmerized by the logic of promontory and menace, the psychology of alliance and sellout, the vulnerabilities of their own bodies and how they can be employed or shielded. A likely interpretation is that in our evolutionary record, brutality be a major enough threat to fitness that everyone had to understand how it works.

Among the many subgenres of violent presentation, one with perennial appeal to brows both high and low is the Hobbesian thriller a storey set in a circumscribed zone of chao that saves the familiar trappings of our times, but in which the exponents must live beyond the reach of the modern leviathan( the police and judiciary ), with its monopoly on the legitimate use of force. Examples include westerns, spy thrillers, battlefield dramas, zombie holocausts, seat tale and movies about organised criminal. In a smuggled economy, you cant sue your rivals or call the police, so the credible menace( and occasional expend) of violence is your one protection.

The godfather of Mafia movies is, of course, Francis Ford Coppolas The Godfather trilogy. The screenplays are a goldmine for remarks on the human condition in a state of nature, beyond such constraints of modern institutions. Four wrinkles stand out: in the opening stage, Vito Corleone, having promised to mete out some bumpy justice on behalf of a victimised undertaker “whove been” abandoned by the American leviathan, demonstrates how reciprocity provides as the plaster of traditional societies: Some era, and that day may never return, Ill call upon “youve got to” do a service for me. But until the working day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughters wedding day.

The opening panorama of The Godfather

Following the tragic death of his eldest son, Vito addresses the heads of the rival violation households and shows the tactical rationality of evident irrationality: Im a superstitious male. And if some unlucky coincidence should befall my son, if my son is struck by a bolt of lightning, I will accuse some of the people here. Elsewhere, he elaborates: Coincidences dont happen to people who plow collisions as a personal insult.

A foot soldier of one of these adversaries explains why the inclination for savagery advanced to be a select programme , not an indiscriminate bloodlust or a hydraulic pressing: I dont like violence, Tom. Im a businessman. Blood is a big expense.

And for all our hotheaded counsels, Michael explains the knowledge of ensure your ardours: Never hate your foes. It feigns your judgment.

Steven Pinker is Johnstone family professor of psychology at Harvard .

Rushmore by Dacher Keltner

It shows us that to consolidate in dominance, we must unite others

Jason Schwartzman in Rushmore. Photo: Rex Shutterstock

All art, French social theoretician Pierre Bourdieu debates, is an expression of social class, from the music you experience to the trinkets you put on your walls. Few cinemas, though, have undertaken the class subdivide between the haves and have-nots as imaginatively as Wes Andersons 1998 cinema Rushmore.

The film reveals at Rushmore Academy, a prep school in Houston, Texas, and tells the story of the friendship between schoolboy Max Fischer( Jason Schwartzman ), the son of a barber, and rich industrialist Herman Blume( Bill Murray ). They both fall for a lately bereaved teacher at the school( Olivia Williams ), and resort to misguided tactics to triumph her affection. As this timeless strife undoes, the film illustrates various following principles class and dominance uncovered in psychological science.

The first that affluence is rising unethical and socially detached action is on display at a birthday defendant for Blumes sons, who attend Rushmore Academy with Max. The two sons greedily shred through a collection of presents( and are most enjoyed by a crossbow ). Nearby, Blumes wife flirts blatantly with a young man, while Blume sits far away from the mayhem, languidly convulsing golf balls into his dirty pool.

The puddle vistum in Rushmore

This scene captivates recent considers showing that upper-class individuals are more disposed to impulsive and socially aloof behaviour, including misconstruing others ardours, swearing, lying in recreations to win prizes and flouting the regulation of the road.

Navigating power structure, such as prep schools, is the cause of stress for lower-class individuals, and can heighten levels of the stress-related hormone cortisol. To adapt to such social emphasizes, people from lower-class backgrounds reach out and is attached to others a second principle of class and influence. Studies find that it is parties from lower-class backgrounds who share more, collaborate, attend to others carefully and do acts that unite others, a intend by which they can rise in strength when paucity the advantages of lineage. With brilliant detail, Anderson accompanies this principle to life in Maxs defining social inclination: forming sororities. Max is at the head of every imaginable guild, including the beekeepers culture, the kung fu golf-club and the astronomy squad all touching, quaint acts that discover a deeper principle at participate: to increase in dominance, we must unite others in common cause.

Dacher Keltner is a prof of psychology at University of California, Berkeley .

Altered Nation by Sue Blackmore

It plays with the question of what we mean by reality

William Hurt in Altered Regime. Image: Moviestore/ Rex/ Shutterstock

Ken Russells Altered Position is based on a wild time in the 1970 s, when a whole lot of professors took hallucinogenic drugs. One of them, John Lilly, started working with isolation containers where you swim in saltwater in total stillnes, resulting in absolute sensory deprivation with resultant vivid imagery and bizarre sensations.

The films hero is a scientist called Eddie( William Hurt) who starts experimenting with psychedelic drugs to explore other countries of consciousness and our notions of actuality. At one point he emerges from his isolation tank having been transformed into an parrot but Im not so interested in this kind of hopeless fantasy. What interests me is how the cinema manages the altered commonwealths of consciousness. We know that when you take hallucinogenic drugs of this kind, a very early hallucinations are simple, colorful, geometric decorations. Passages and spirals are common, as they are in out-of-body and near-death knowledge. The movie has batch of passageways, and a wonderful maelstrom near the end, where Eddie is being sucked away into oblivion. That is all extravagant cinema material, but the maelstrom leaves a good suffer of hallucinatory know-hows, and is rather well done.

Lilly was trying to understand the nature of actuality, and thats what this movie gamblings with. What do we make by world, regardless? You might say that what we know, and what Eddie in the film presupposed, is that there is a physical actuality and our intelligence interprets it, and that hallucinations are not real. But if you make a hallucinogenic drug into most peoples mentalities, they get remarkably similar experiences.

A lovely detail in the film is where Eddie starts for a formality with an indigenous tribe in Mexico. He is given a tonic, goes into an extreme adjusted territory and considers flows of idols coming out of his body. The hotshots are not real in the sense that there are no white-hot lights flowing from us, but lots of people who take those same doses appreciate the same thing so there is a kind of reality here, a kind of shared experience.

In consciousness analyzes, we struggle with the hard question of consciousness. It is a deep riddle how do subjective know-hows arise from objective intelligence task? We dont know. Numerous people, myself included, say there isnt actually a hard problem. We become dualists in childhood we think that recollection and psyche are divide and thats why we have a problem: how can the knowledge arise from the intelligence? Somehow, we have to see how the two are the same circumstance. Many people have these hallucinatory suffers, or go through intense customs, and claim to have achieved non-duality. We dont get that explanation in this film, but it would be amazing if we did.

Sue Blackmore is a writer, professor and visiting professor at Plymouth University .

The Seventh Seal by Susan Greenfield

Its about the psychology of parties the hope you are going to be better

Ingmar Bergmans film is so striking and implacable, unlike most movies nowadays. A knight, returning from the Crusades to plague-ridden Sweden, is visited by Death, a pale-faced, black-cloaked attribute. They play out a chess coincide which, if the cavalier triumphs, will stave off his demise.

The Seventh Seal

The fact The Seventh Seal is in black and white and was reached in the 1950 s is evidence of its staying appeal, in the same way Greek misfortune weathers it is something that speaks of eternal appraises, folks hopes and anxieties, and is not dependent on current culture. It has been satirised, most famously by Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life, in a sketch in which Death transforms up at a middle-class dinner party. Its funny, but it doesnt detract from the original, where everyone is fated at the end. It is the opposite of the joyous stops of movies we have now.

The film has a very dark, nihilistic feel to it in an age when people are soft and easy. There is one panorama where one of the specific characteristics, an actor, is up a tree, and Death comes to looked through it. He expects him who he is, and Death says he has come for him. The man adds its not his time, he has his performance to do. Death enunciates: Its cancelled. Because of death. All the fantasies and hopes you have are annulled because of death.

Im not recognizing also that Bergman was inevitably expounding any particular mental assumption, but he does talks about the silence of God, which perhaps for many parties echoes true. I think it is about the psychology of beings the hope that you are going to be better and different, to think that you can get away with things.

The knight goes to confession and starts to tell the priest about the chess move he is going make and, of course, the clergyman is Death. You cant overcome fatality and all of us are playing chess with demise, in a way hoping well be the one who wont get cancer, wont have a heart attack, that this happens to other people , not us. I think there is that mentality in numerous parties, and this film brings it home to you. I am an rosy party, and it clears me appreciate life because of its highly transient and arbitrary nature.

Susan Greenfield is a scientist, scribe, broadcaster and a member of the House of Lords .

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