mars--dust
marsdust
he/him
superior jerma fan
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:(
also quite obsessed with karl being as detached from the story as he is. there's nothing that makes him have to be the detective that has to be involved, but he unknowingly dooms himself by agreeing to work with the KYAL cult. every other detective basically deals with elias head on except weissman, who only meets him right before he kills him. like he's right when he says "by my choices" because everything that leads him to being mixed up with the mannix cult is himself. it's the gambling debts and the choice to do the dirty work for an organisation he knows nothing about. he's the only one that doesn't encounter that body doing police work and it's specifically because he's told to cover it up. he gets himself into the mess and eventually fixes it but the fact that esther always dies in the doomed timelines and he's always too late even if he starts wanting to change things ("till this child. esther.") it just makes me very ill
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This healed my soul
Aaaaaand now, for a little post-bar-late-night-chit-chat between the boys....
It should be bliss. The bed is soft, the flat is warm, and for the first time in what feels like a decade or three Charles Whiteman can go to sleep with the absolute certainty that he’s not going to wake up bombed to pieces. But he can’t sleep, because he keeps straining for the tell-tale hum of the sodding luftwaffe. He’s still bracing for the sirens to start blaring, and the streetlights fading softly through the curtains are making his chest tighten, convincing him that right now, this street is thrusting its arm up in the air yelling pick me- actively volunteering to be Hitler’s prime target. He stares up at the ceiling for another ten minutes then gives up, rolling out of bed and making for the sitting room. This television thing is smashing- stuffed to the brim with rubbish that has no right to be so mindlessly entertaining and of course, a whole lot of good looking women in short skirts. Some really short skirts. Whiteman wonders-
The thought drops dead when he takes one step through the sitting room door, going for the lightswitch before he clocks Hillinghead. The man’s sitting in the armchair nearest the window, curtains open (that damned street light) but otherwise in complete darkness. Reading. “No wonder you need glasses,” Whiteman says.
“Whiteman. Can you not sleep either?”
Whiteman drops his hand from the lightswitch without flicking it on. “Too quiet,” he says. Hillinghead does that hum-snort-scoff thing of his that Whiteman figures is amusement.
“Too loud,” he counters, turning the page.
“Mind if I get the lamp?” It’s not escaped Whiteman’s notice that the other man finds electric lights uncomfortable, even more than they make him feel. It makes sense, Whiteman guesses. They’re bright by his standards- he doesn’t know if Hillinghead even has electric lights in his home.
“By all means.”
Whiteman crosses to the right hand corner of the room and grabs the metal stem of the standing lamp. It comes on with touch. Fascinating. He throws himself on to the sofa and stretches out, angling himself so that he’s looking at Hillinghead. “Do you sleep in your suits?” he says. The man is, no kidding, wearing a tie at four o’clock in the morning.
“No, I just- get dressed if I’m leaving the bedroom.” Hilinghead closes his book and stands. For a second Whiteman thinks he’s chased the guy off, but he just says
“Tea? Coffee?”
Whiteman hides a smirk. Electric lights might get on his nerves, but electric kettles, Hillinghead really seems to like. And the abundance of tea and coffee is something that they both appreciate: for Whiteman, a combination of rationing and supply problems can make tea in particular tricky to get hold of; for Hillinghead, coffee in particular was a rarely-consumed luxury. And, Whiteman was convinced, the man just really likes using the kettle. A bit of a weird quirk, but everything about this situation is weird. “Sure,” he says, “Whatever you’re having.”
Hillinghead nods and leaves the room. Whiteman gets up to pilfer his book and throws himself back down, studying the cover. Lady Audley’s Secret, the front cover declares- flipping to the title page, Whiteman sees that it was first published in 1862. When Hillinghead comes back five minutes later with two mugs of steaming black tea, Whiteman waves it at him “Reminds you of home?” he asked.
“My wife- before we were married, we were…fifteen , I believe. Her mother said she wasn’t old enough to read it so she asked me to buy her a copy and to read it to her while she sat with my mother on a Tuesday afternoon.”
“Your mum didn’t mind?”
“My mother was ill, by that time, she would be asleep on the sofa twenty minutes after Charlotte arrived, more often than not,” he pauses. “She died before we could finish the book. We both did finish it, but separately - I read it myself and then I took off the cover and rebound it with-” he breaks off abruptly, and takes a long sip of his tea, avoiding Whiteman’s eye.
“What,” Whiteman prods. “What did you do? Cut a novel sized hole in the Bible and shove it in?”
“No.” Hillinghead takes another long sip of tea and then confesses, sounding a little embarrassed: “...it was a collection of Hymns, Psalms, and other Spiritual Poetry.” Whiteman starts to laugh. “When my father found out he whipped me so hard I still had the bruises a month later,” Hillinghead adds. “It was his book, I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Still,” Whiteman says. “Neat trick.” There’s genuine fondness in Hillinghead’s voice when he speaks about Mrs Hillinghead. Whiteman wants to ask more about this “Arthur” Hillinghead mentioned in the pub that afternoon, but without that 21st century daylight, and without Hasan’s and Maplewood’ casual acceptance, it feels like a topic too dangerous to be broached. Whiteman doesn’t care, per say- he’s always been one to turn a blind eye, or even shoot off a quiet warning to the odd blokes not quite being discreet enough with the eyes they’re making at each other. But it’s not something you openly talk about, not for him and certainly not for Hillinghead. So instead he sips his own tea and says,
“When I was a nipper, my dad caught me eating the biscuits my mum had made to take to this meeting, her and her friends got together once a week and they took turns bringing the cake or whatnot.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“He helped me finish them off, then we figured out how to make more.” Whiteman grins. Hillinghead actually laughs. “We got away with it, too,” Whiteman says. “Mum said she couldn’t figure out what she’d done differently that time to make them taste so good,” Hillinghead’s laughter grows. “If I can get the stuff together, I should make them for Esther when I get back.” His good mood dims a little. “If I get back. If she’s alright when I get back. I gave her a couple of people to go to, if - if I went out one night and didn’t come back. The bombings…y’know. Rabbi Goldstein. Inspector Calloway. Either of them would look out for her- but only if she goes. It’s been hard enough convincing her to do what I say when I am around.”
“I am sorry,” Hillinghead says quietly. “If nothing else, from what you’ve said the child sounds like she has a knack for survival.”
Whiteman snorts. “She does that.”
They both turn their attention to their tea, each sinking into their own thoughts. But it’s a companionable kind of silence, the knowledge that the other man knows at least a little something of how he’s feeling is a comfort to each. Whiteman hasn’t told Inspector Hillinghead that his daughter’s name’s a household one in his time, that Vera Lynn, Charlie Chaplin, and Polly Hillinghead keep Britain marching on, and he wonders if he should. He wants so badly to know about Esther. But Maplewood has said they need to limit their knowledge of the future as much as possible, or their knowledge of the immediate future of their own times, at any rate, and Hasan had agreed - citing the authority of “science fiction” in general and “Doctor Who” in particular. So mum’s the word- he hasn’t even told Maplewood or Hasan. And much as he wants to, he isn’t going to attempt to try and trace Esther. Right now, he can just about convince himself that she’s out there somewhere, an absolute rogue of an old lady with an army of grandchildren, like his mum had always wanted to have. He’ll take Esther to meet his mum, when this is over. If he presents a sort-of grandkid, she might stop nagging him about a daughter in law. Well, a man can dream, can’t he?
…but he doesn’t, not for the rest of that night: the first he knows about falling asleep is Maplewood yanking the blanket off him. “Oi!” he complains, and then: “...where did that even come from?”
“Budge up, I want to eat my cereal and you’re hogging all the sofa space. You didn’t grab the blanket?”
“Nope.” They both look over to the armchair. Hillinghead has nodded off, a blanket of his own and his still open book held limply on his lap. “Soft touch.” Whitehead mutters affectionately.
“Don’t wake him up!” Maplewood whisper-hisses.
“Hey- you woke me up, yelling about your bleeding cereal,” Whiteman counters, but he makes room for her on the sofa as he says it. “So,” he says. “What’s the plan, for today?”
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assorted bodies doodles (transcript of that messy relationship square under the cut due to my handwriting/incoherency)
TAKE THESE W A GRAIN OF SALT i am like 90% joking:
hillinghead -> hasan, and vice versa: immediate mutual respect
hillinghead -> whiteman: he's incredibly smart, deceptively cunning but very kind. but he is also so annoying oh my god--
hillinghead -> maplewood: "please someone explain science fiction to me"
whiteman -> iris, and vice versa: two friends secretly think of the other as the sidekick
whiteman -> hillinghead: annoying him is quickly becoming a favorite pasttime
whiteman -> hasan: will not admit it but he wants parenting tips from her
hasan -> whiteman: has slipped a parenting book to him
hasan -> maplewood: deja vu about their future weirds her out a little, but she trusts her
iris -> hillinghead: fond of him from the time they spoke in the prison. enjoys fucking with him
iris -> hasan: SHE'S THE GOAT
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Hello! I adore your Bodies fanart. I was imagining Karl in 1890 and how much havoc he would wreak. Also Henry and Karl would get along very well, I think, and Karl would be a *terrible* matchmaker for Henry and Alfred... I'd love to see your take on any of this, if anything comes to you 😍
HELLO OMG THANK YOU FOR THE EXCUSE TO JUST DROP HOT TAKES INTO THE BODIES NETFLIX TAG <3 all these drawings are very scrappy and i lost the plot and this became more like sharing all my hcs but still :')
now that you have brought it to me i really do think henry and karl would be unstoppable, i think they'd constantly have a fun, back-and-forth banter !!! i also can see karl dropping multiple not-so-subtle hints, and all of the detectives being quite supportive. gently too, considering the period-typical homophobia. i do think sometime along the lovelorn pining looks, he gets tired of seeing them orbit each other without anything happening, and this exchange occurs:
more doodles and crying under the cut :)
i will die on the "karl weissman bisexuality" hill. HE TOLD ME IN A DREAM!!!! it's just a little messier for him because he really likes women and will not figure it out ever. charlotte hillinghead TO ME also has the exact opposite problem where she is very much in love with her husband and doesn't have any incentive (or freedom considering the time period) to explore her sexuality. the way she accepted hillinghead's feelings for henry, and was less rejecting and more devastated over thinking he didn't love her or polly, just read queer to me somehow. an acceptance because she's like that too, yk? (maybe a bit of a reach but i don't get to choose who my mind designates as being bi)
i like to think that charlotte-karl experience a spider-verse mindmeld "YOU'RE LIKE ME" moment over being bisexual but they're not quite sure why they're feeling that way because they have no idea they're bi. if you are me you will understand perfectly
and i am a henry/alfred/charlotte poly truther as well (please see above discord ranting from my dms with a friend lol)
on more notes of just giving whichever character i want the bisexuality card, hasan is bi to me too. i think hillinghead and her bond a little over that shared religious guilt, of having their respective institutions be homophobic, and the feeling for so much of their life that they're different, so there must be something wrong. it helps her empathise with him and they quickly become closer because of it :) possibly also introducing him to queer lit, and maybe some non fiction lgbt history books
and one last final doodle because i think alfred as the only detective with an active love life where he's pursuing someone would make the others pretend like they can be adults but they want to know SO BAD and they also give advice once in a while because they're rooting for alfred :) they're all pretty good at hiding how badly they're invested in this (think iris 'casually' asking hillinghead how it's going and the other two perk up in the background) like i refuse to believe any of them are totally immune to the equivalent of office-gossip
this was so so long LOL i hope any of that is coherent !!!!! a lot of it ofc is my own projection bc i am bi, but it's real to me <3
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Explanation for the last meme: I think Karl would just have killed Elias when he had the chance lol
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My ideal man:
-tall
-smart
-witty
-can cook
-good with kids
-well dressed
-specifically dresses like a 1940s detective
-is a 1940s detective
-dark curly hair with one slutty little curl that curls sluttily on his forehead
-British accent
-specifically cockney accent
-kinda mean
-sexy and murdery
-gives zero fucks even when he’s about to die
-is named Karl weissman and is a character in Netflix’s bodies
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heheheeeee *kicks feet in air whilst writing in a diary with a fluffy pen*
"I treat people the way they treat me. I made my peace with that."
Jacob Fortune-Lloyd as D.S. Charles Whiteman/Karl Weissman in BODIES (2023)
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YES I'VE FOUND KARL FANS
New blorbo alert and bodies spoilers ahead. Can any bodies fans here talk about how ICONIC Karl weissman is??? Holy shit. I have no idea why tumblr isn’t all over this guy yet. He’s the perfect dark murdery bastard that wears dapper suits and has slicked back hair with a slutty curl and a pencil moustache and a COCKNEY ACCENT and he is really witty and sometimes really mean I love it. The insults??? Omfg. We need men to be slutty 1940s detectives again. I love him. I am so feral for everything he does. The reluctant bachelor becomes a father figure archetype that we get for like two episodes. Can we also talk about how iconic his deaths are in the two timelines where he dies??? 1) resigns, breaks into Harker house, shoots Polly, shoots Harker/Mannix in the face (and looks so sexy while doing it) and then knows he’s about to be arrested and faces execution so he lights up a smoke and gets drunk off of Harker’s booze while waiting for the cops. Iconic. And in 2) he does the same murders but this time runs to the bar to hide the record (also asks Hasan for a pint in his carving), fires his gun in the air to get everyone out, STAYS THERE AND LIGHTS UP A CIGAR AND POURS OUT A SHOT, and refuses to come out before the police fire, literally saying “nah.” LMFAOOO. Oh my fucking god. Oh my fucking god. I could talk about his character for hours
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you think i can't keep talking about karl and esther you are so wrong btw episode four timestamp 34:40 he hesitates before rubbing her back, comforting her the way a parent or guardian might. the whole tube scene is karl finally deciding he has to do this ("i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere, i promise") he still HESITATES because he knows he's probably not the right man for the job. he's the man that got her stuck in this problem in the first place. but they've only got each other and he has to try. does it hurt that the moment he finally builds this resolve and determination to leave it all behind and to actually fight for something that matters to him and admit that, even though he hasn't known her for long, he cares about this girl like she's family, esther is murdered and it totally consumes him? does it hurt that he's then framed for her death even though he just spent the last 24 hours killing and taking revenge in her name? not only because he knows he's a dead man, but also because he's out of options to do something that matters, and what else can he do with his grief other than inflict it onto others? yeah it hurts a lot actually
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Something obvious about the detectives in Bodies I've truly appreciated is that all the detectives are set apart by some kind of "otherness" which makes it dangerous for them to exist in their world - gay man in Victorian times, Jewish man in WWII, racialised (Muslim?) woman in 2023 and woman with a disability in an otherwise "perfect" world (ha! We've all seen how non-compliant people live) - and that's even in the supposed utopia Mannix created. And yet, they are loved for who they are, whereas Mannix - by all accounts the one who should encounter less problems than all of them - is unloved until he decides to do what they've all already done - sacrifice himself. Idk I just think that's neat.
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Bodies has everything. Found family trope. GOOD lgbtq+ reprsentation. Disabled representation. Muslim representation. Fuck ass fringe. Hot people. Tragedy.
#bodies netflix#bodies#iris maplewood#charles whiteman#alfred hillinghead#ds hasan#karl weissman#karl weissman PLEASE PLEASE ONE CHANCE PLEASE#i need everyone to watch bodies neow#it's amazing#historical gays#love em
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not to risk shouting into the void on the lords day of rest but y'all should watch bodies I feel like there's only about 4 people watching and i am withering like a water starved house plant without talking about it
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Elias Mannix is such a tragic character, when you think about it. He was doomed from the start. Either he accepts to go with the time loop and
a) has a shitty childhood (shitty to the point of not thinking anyone ever loved him and to the point of accepting to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of lives to feel that love he was promised)
b) has to go through with the killing of hundreds of thousands of people! And I know future!Elias doesn't really show any remorse about it, but it has to fuck up a person. Especially when his decision was made pretty spontaneously in the moment, without really thinking about the consequences (I personally think that he wouldn't have done it if he had taken the time to breath, calm down and think about it). And especially knowing most of these people didn't just die at the time of the explosion, but had to suffer a slow and painful death, that Elias probably heard about/saw pictures of on TV. We don't see him as a young adult, but those years must have been tough.
c) has to make sure his childhood is shitty so that he can keep existing, and become his own abuser!!
His only other option is to not do any of that, choose to not make the bomb explode, to do the right thing, and what does he get for that? Nothing! He stops existing!! And it's not just as if he dies, he will never have existed, no one will know he ever existed, no one will remember him! Can you imagine that??
His own life is dependant on a cycle of abuse and death he created himself and it's SO. SAD.
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diversity win! the time travelling murderer that's trying to ruin your life thinks you being gay is ok
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