#I would pay for many poetry books from taylor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year

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omg hi could you maybe do a high-school au where you're failing English lit and Tolya is assigned as your tutor and you had no idea he was good at English and just mutual crushing vibes over poetry and maybe he's a jock and you go to his games to cheer him on and yeah...

the song could be Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift

Okay, look. Normally I don't do AU stuff, because, so many reasons, but I looked at this request and thought about it, and then I thought about it out loud and it sent me and bestie spiralling so fast into a whole Shadow and Bone High School AU concept, that I kind of, have to write this. I kind of have to, but it will have a lot (A LOT) of AU background info so hold on tight buddy. It may get to the point where you're asking yourself "what happened to the original plot of the movie," and to that I say... Idk.

Between Classes And The Bell - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Explicit Language. Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2 And Potential Book Spoilers Implied Throughout. Not Canon Compliant, As AU But Canon Referenced Throughout. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Word Count: 5k+

"My expectations are low," Kaz says, tapping his cane against the table as he passes Zoya, a gentle taunt. Zoya purses her perfect lips and taps her pencil against the table, refusing to take the bait. "But they can always go lower, of course."

"You really think this is an argument you'll win, Brekker?" Zoya asks, turning in her seat to look at him. He smiles, eyes darting to make sure there is no teachers to oversee the devilish smirk, and clasps his spare hand over the one holding the cane.

"Never been in a fight I couldn't," he says. Zoya looks ready to explode. And you can understand why, Kaz never loses Debate, and she was just beginning to think she had the upper hand on him, but he had only wanted her to think that.

"I don't think we need to take this so seriously," says another classmate, "we aren't being supervised."

"I think taking things more seriously when unsupervised is essential to a thriving environment," Kaz is mocking Zoya and she knows it. She wants to do something, and if she let her heated nature get the better of her, she might. But she just folds her arms, and takes in a deep breath. As Head Girl she has to be composed, and as Captain of the cheer squad she has long learnt composure. When Zoya breathes it is like even the air is competing for her attention, she is that kind of beautiful. You glance at her and she has her eyes closed, calming herself. She shouldn't let Brekker get under her skin so easily, but Zoya takes everything very seriously, whereas Kaz gives the illusion of caring about school, all the teachers think he is a perfect student, and his grades suggest as much, but it is more of a game to Kaz. But that would go unnoticed by most, after all, no body tends to look too closely at a boy with a cane. But you don't doubt he is probably the most threatening of all of you. You'd heard a rumour once that he was running a blackmail scheme and that's why his grades were perfect without trying. But you knew Kaz was smarter than he cared to display, and you didn't want to put too much stock in rumours. School is so full of them after all.

You get up as the class empties, and you try not to pay close attention to the way Kaz hovers in the room, awaiting it's empty, you cannot tell if he is waiting for someone or waiting for the silence.

Zoya is headed for cheer practice and you are quick to step out of her way, it is best not to get under her feet at the best of times, yet again when she is fuelled with rage from an argument and especially when she is running late at the expense of losing said argument.

You step to the side to let most of the crowd pass, but as the corridors empty you feel yourself getting confused about where you were going. You catch a glimpse of your science partners leather messenger bag, and watercolour eyes and you nod to yourself, science, you're sure you've got a science next... but which one? Probably Chemistry, you'll settle for Chemistry.

"You're getting all turned around again," comes a voice from behind you. You turn and the familiar face of Inej Ghafa, is closer than you expected it to be. Inej is one of The Dregs like Kaz, you hated that name, but High School will be as High School will be and names like that sort of stuck. They called them The Dregs because they were scholarship students who couldn't afford to be in the school without the scholarship, 'Dregs Of Society' as a senior had not so politely explained to you one day when you were fresh in and dumb enough to ask. You nearly jump out of your skin, seeing here so close to you, without sensing her at all. She has a tendency to do that, so light on her feet, petite and so quiet. You have often wondered if the ability to walk unheard came first or if it was something she had learned from being a gymnast. If the acrobatics came naturally and the silence was learned, you're not sure which would be more impressive. Inej is simply a marvel, her scholarship is based on her gym skills and you would never doubt why, you've never seen someone able to preform with such confidence and prowess as her. But more than that, it's her heart you've noticed most, so quiet and yet so endlessly kind.

"Am I?" you ask her. She nods.

"You have English," she tells you, pointing towards the arts block.

"I have Chemistry," you say quickly but Inej shakes her head.

"No you had Chemistry last semester in this time slot on a Thursday," she corrects you, "now you have English."

You pause, but you realise she is right. You don't bother questioning how she knows that, one of the things you were quick to learn about Inej was she seemed to know everything about everyone, it came with the quietness you guessed, that she can hear and learn everything about everyone while no one even notices she's there. You wonder if that's what Kaz sees in keeping her so close, but then again based on the way the boy looks at her, you'd guess that was something else.

You turn to thank her but she has already disappeared from sight.

You're not late but you are cutting it close when you make your way to your seat. Nina, who you know relatively well from the short time you spent in the drama department last year, at her own coaxing, throws you a smile. "Pass this back to the pretty one?" she asks, handing you a note.

You glance over your shoulder and you don't need to ask who she means, you should have guessed. Matthias is looking even less eager to be in this class than you feel, but you don't blame him. For an exchange student Matthias doesn't seem to be thrilled to be here at all, most of the time, except when he is with Nina, which he is every moment he has the opportunity to be.

Every time you hear him speak it is to tell Nina that something she is doing is improper, and where he grew up that would've never been allowed, and yet every time you see him he is staring at her with a look in his eyes that could make you believe in love all on its own.

"Please?" Nina asks, fluttering those long beautiful eyelashes at you. You've never seen anyone say no to Nina Zenik, it might not be at all possible.

"Of course Nina," you tell her and hand the note back. Matthias frowns, and you can see the thoughts bubbling to the surface. He mumbles something about etiquette and respect for educators and then recognises Nina's handwriting and stops his grumbling.

"I think I am winning him over yet," she grins before turning back to the front of class. Nina was studying to be a nurse, but after a particularly rough semester switched carer plans and now intends to be a mortician, most of her bubbliness has come back to her, but it's clearest enough when she has the blonde in her eyeline, he truly brings out the best in her.

You find yourself tuning out most of the lesson, which you know you shouldn't, your Literature teacher is old enough that you feel like you should be able to get away with not paying attention, but you know she sees everything, and you're more than a little convinced everyone is afraid of her. So you're knocked sick immediately when Miss Morozova asks you to stay behind as the class is finishing up. You hope for a moment you might have misheard her, but her cold eyes on you is confirmation that you didn't.

She beckons you to the desk with a flick of her wrist and you approach, wondering what misstep you took, but she just slides your previous paper across the wood at you, and you see your mark and goose bumps spread through your skin. Fuck.

"You're going to fail," she tells you. She has never had a knack for encouragement or being gentle with her students.

"That is not what I had hoped," you admit. She laughs, it's a cold type of laugh, all apathy and disappointment.

"Not about hope child, it's about application and effort, I am not sure if you're missing the point or if you are not trying to see the point at all, either way you're not getting where you need to be," she shuffles a few papers, "so I have assigned you a tutor, hopefully that should fix your shortcomings, if not you will fail this class."

"A tutor?" you ask, the cold feeling just continues to spread through your body. Please not Zoya, please not Zoya. You don't doubt she is good at it, you've seen the turn around of Zoya's tutoring, but she intimidates you if you're honest and you don't think that is optimal for your learning. "Who?"

"Tolya Yul Bataar," she says, not bothering to look at you, "I have already informed him, the rest he will sort out, you're dismissed."

"Tolya?" you ask. You hadn't thought about it, you know he is in the advanced class, but you'd never given it much thought. Always seen the jock first, which isn't surprising, his education likes to focus on his sports, they treat his twin sister Tamar the same. Their skills making your school highest in competitive sports, it makes the school want to focus on their athletics. But you're a little annoyed at yourself for not even thinking about it.

You've thought about Tolya more than enough to have justified thinking about his academics. But the slight crush you've had on the athlete who stands taller than you can reason and with arms you're convinced could move mountains, you have had time to think about him.

You had lunch with his sister once, just the once. Tamar is nowhere near as tall as her brother, with short cropped hair which is a contrast to Tolya's own, but her strength is just like his, even for her size she is fierce and unrelenting. She looks like she could fuck you up, and you know she has the power behind her to back that up, and she would, and is willing to if the need arises. Her girlfriend Nadia had also been present at that lunch and you'd wanted to talk more than you had. Tamar was a type of brave you often wanted to be, unapologetic in her braveness, equal parts bark and bite.

You don't try asking anymore questions, you're pretty eager to get out the classroom that you walk straight into the corridor, not thinking to look around you, and are met by a leaning Tolya, who is rested up against the notice board beside the door. If normally he makes your heart skip a few beats, seeing him waiting for you nearly makes your heart stop. You tell yourself that's a fear response, but you know you're lying. "Tolya," you say breathing a little too heavily.

"I didn't take you for the flunking English type," he smiles at you, "but then again how well do you know a person?"

You smile, trying to not blush too deeply and give yourself entirely away. "I didn't know I was flunking," you admit.

"That isn't reassuring," he says, but he isn't criticizing you, you know criticism when you see it.

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"I am sure we can fix it up, I am... fond of prose."

You're supposed to be studying Remains by Simon Armitage, but even in his tutoring state, you can tell Tolya is finding the poem just as painful as you are. You don't want to be difficult, you don't mean to be, you're stressed about the fact you're going to flunk English Lit, and you know Tolya wants to help. But this poem is driving your attention elsewhere, and in an attempt to not stare at the large, pretty, tutor doing his best to go through themes with you, you let your eyes wander around the library.

Jesper Fahey, the lean theatre student with the true talent for dramatics in every aspect of his life, right down to the way he is dressed with bejewelled collar pins and matching cufflinks, is leaning over your chemistry partner, giving him that smile you recognise. Jesper has always been a flirt, and he never misses the mark, you've seen him flirt with nearly everyone around, but he only ever gives Wylan those eyes. You'd seen it first the day Wylan has suggested pyrotechnics for one of their next play, the same day Jesper tried to pitch Rocky Horror, they were a strange match, but perfectly matched in their strangeness. You especially liked Wylan, as your partner in the sciences you spent enough time with him to know that he is so smart, the kind of smart that makes your head spin, he could be a scholarship student, but he actually is a Legacy, not that you'd know it by looking at him, or talking to him. He doesn't really talk about his family, and you never pushed, knowing he runs the tech for the drama kids and can make homemade fireworks is a decent amount of know about a person.

"Am I boring you?" Tolya asks, his voice soft.

"No," you chuckle, "but I won't lie Simon Armitage is, maybe to death."

Tolya offers you a chuckle in response. "In honesty, I would like to say there is credit in all poetry, and I think there is, something for everyone, but I am inclined to agree this is no Keats," Tolya concedes.

"Or Wordsworth, or even Larkin," you add. He smiles.

"So you do like poetry?" he asks. You frown.

"Did I leave you with the impression I didn't?" you ask. He tilts his head, and he looks so unreasonably large in that blue library seat that you bite your tongue to not giggle at it.

"I had to read your previous paper to prep," he says, "you made it sound like poetry was the lowest form of art."

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that, maybe that poem," you joke, "but not all poetry."

"So, what poems do you like?" he asks, closing the book.

"What poems do you like, I didn't take you for the type," you give that preconception willingly, hoping to dismiss it quickly, and get his true interests locked into memory in a hope to know him better.

"All muscle and no appreciation for art?" he asks. You shrug.

"I never thought you were only muscle," you say, "you've got height too."

He laughs a little too loud for the library but you're too busy smiling to care. "I like classic poetry, epic prose," he admits.

"Iliad?" you ask. He grins.

"Yeah, Homer is up there," he nods, "also The Cantos."

"Oh is that... Ezra Pound?" you check, genuinely unsure if you're right but the gleam in his eyes tells you that you are before his words do.

You sit for a while, swapping favourites and preferences and you don't hear the sound of the bell ringing, calling you to classes, you just keep listening to Tolya reciting from memory and you think you could listen to that forever.

"I hate to pull you away," comes a voice anyone would recognise. You look up and the resident Lantsov, Nikolai with his puppy grin and sparkling eyes is looking at Tolya, "but you are very late."

Tolya glances at the time, as long in you as you were in him, and gets up a little too quickly. "I lost track of time," he admits.

"I can see that," Nikolai spares you a glance, and smiles back at his friend. Nikolai is charming, charming in all the ways a politician might be without half the deceit and double the bravado. Handsome in the way that he knows he is handsome and leans on it, but doesn't rely on it solely like people as pretty as he often do. But it works for him, and you understand where it comes from. Lantsov is a Legacy student, which gets him a lot of allowances, but his older brother got expelled a few years back and he has been under a lot of pressure to not fuck up like Vasily did. So he goes the extra mile, does the extra work, head boy, and boy scout all in one, just to fix what his brother broke. The new girl Alina is hovering not far behind, Nikolai took a liking to her immediately, she looks lost in this place, she got in on a scholarship for a sport she didn't play and has been trying to juggle everything ever since. But she mostly talks about missing home, she has a boy back at her old school, a boy her heart aches at the absence of. Usually that sort of thing is a lie, but the way she talks about him, you would never doubt, you're not sure of his name, you've heard it once or twice, Hal, Mal maybe, you don't let your mind linger on the thought.

"I have to go, but I promise to meet you here tomorrow?" Tolya asks you, bringing you back to the library and out of your mind.

"I'll be here," you say. You watch the three of them walk away, the twins have been close to Nikolai as long as you've known any of them, thick as thieves and twice as protective of one another. You can admire a friendship like that.

"And the final stanza, ending with that imagery," Tolya is trying so very hard to stay on topic, but you are tapping your fingers across a very old copy of Odyssey and he knows you're trying to pull his attention away, and you know it's working.

"or six-feet-under in desert sand, but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody life in my bloody hands," you recite. "I know Tolya, it is ingrained in my mind I promise you."

"If you fail the next essay you won't be stuck with me anymore, you'll be failed," Tolya reminds you.

"I am very aware of my predicament," you straighten up, "fail and well fail, or succeed and be told the tutoring is effective and I must continue to spend these hours with you."

The way you tease him makes him want to forget the studying all together and just keep you in his company for longer, without explanation or reason beyond just wanting you there.

"This is such torture for you, isn't it?" He asks, not meaning a word.

"Not in the slightest," you confess. "My favourite part of the day, and not just because you bring really good snacks."

"I do," he agrees reaching to take a biscuit from the centre of the table. "Are you coming to the game?"

The question strikes you as odd, you have spent weeks with Tolya and you've discussed art and music and poetry at length, but you've avoided talking sports, you thought because he had wanted not to talk about it, but with this question you wonder if maybe you've been negligent in not asking him about that aspect of his life. If you've come across as uninterested in the athletics and dismissive because of it, and that thought fills you with an uncomfortable nervousness.

"I hadn't been planning on," you say slowly, "should I?"

"It's going to be a good game," he says, "a competitive one." You nod, trying to seem more enthusiastic than you're sure how to be about sports. "It's an important game," he admits, "and I would... like to have you there, if you want to come?"

"Are you asking me to come watch your game?" you ask, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. He smiles.

"Yeah, I kind of am," he admits, "is that okay?"

"Yeah," the blush creeps up your neck but has the respect to stay away from your cheeks, weeks alongside Tolya you've had to train yourself to blush more subtly, "I'd like that."

Genya and Nina are both fussing over Zoya in preparation for the game, Genya because she wants to be beautician and it is helpful, Nina because it's her prerogative to get involved wherever she wants to. Seeing Genya and Zoya be so friendly with one another is still a little unnerving, due to a not so friendly rumour about Genya and a teacher Genya had been the subject of a lot of hate from the girls at school. Zoya was among them. But the last year has brought everyone a lot closer, and everyone has become a lot more understanding, and Zoya with the help of Alina went around getting Mr Kirigan fired for his unprofessional behaviour, that which they could prove anyway. Genya weathered the worst of it all, and she never seemed to shake.

"Genya if you do not stop fussing me," Zoya warns her, but it's coming from a softer place than her normal warning tone. Zoya holds a lot of guilt when it comes to Genya, about not defending her, about not believing her, about not protecting her from the rumours.

Even Zoya had her fair share of rumours, the real reason as to why she doesn't date, the way her eyes linger moments too long on a pretty girl in the hallway, but again, you didn't like to put too much stock into rumours.

Genya twirls one of her red tendrils around her hand, trying to keep them off Zoya's long dark hair which she has pulled up into a ponytail. "Can I at least-,"

"No," Zoya says sternly. "David, please come get your girlfriend."

David, the reed thin brunette who rarely understands half of what is going on around him, looks up from the book he is reading, something on geology and metallurgy, to look at Genya who gives him a sweet smile, and he gives her a little wave, not having heard exactly what Zoya said. David and Genya are high school sweethearts, the type that you're not even aware you are rooting for at first, but at some point you realise the happiness of their relationship is the thing you are basing your idea of true love on.

"You're coming tonight right?" Nina asks you, throwing you a look across the room, you hadn't realised she noticed you being there, between trying to keep Genya from trying to colour Zoya's hair and Zoya from trying to kill Genya with a look.

"To the game?" Genya turns her eyes to you and they're glistening with anticipation. "I didn't realise you found your school spirit."

"I was invited," you explain.

"Yeah, by a tree with the muscles of a Saint," Nina quips giving you a wink. "I don't think it's school spirit they've found."

"Tolya?" Genya asks, tone shifting up a pitch with her eagerness.

"Don't say it like that," you say. Genya leans up on her elbows, resting her pretty face over her crossed hands.

"Like what?" she asks.

"Like," you gesture to her in her entirety, "like that, like you think you know something I don't know."

"If your truly flunking Lit, I think we all know something you don't know," Zoya says, "now can we get this show on the road, I cannot and will not be late."

"Ignore her," Nina mouths, "she's just cranky because... well because she is Zoya."

The air is brisk but you don't feel cold as you walk towards the field, you see Brekker underneath the bleachers talking with someone you don't recognise, but you pretend not to see anything.

Wylan has his arms around Jesper's neck in the back of the stands, and he looks less lost and more found. Matthias and Nina are bickering by the food queue about how acceptable sweet toppings are on savoury foods and she is too wrapped up in her fun game of wind up Matthias to see your wave, but you don't mind.

Zoya has corralled the cheerleaders and they're all pretty ready, Alina is staring trying not to get roped into anything as one of the cheerleaders in blue tries to tell her how good cheer is for the spirit.

Nikolai is trying to convince Zoya of something but you're not sure what, but you are at least sure it isn't working.

You are brought out of your people watching by feeling a presence close to your side, you turn your head and Inej is walking in stride. "Tolya is looking for you," she says, and you expect her to disappear into nothing as quickly as she appears, but she doesn't. She is a girl after all, not a ghost.

"When does the game start?" you ask.

"You have time," she assures you. She points south and you follow that guidance, and you see Tamar leaning on the gate, she is talking with some of the other players, and she looks so at home. It would be hard to believe there was a time when Tamar had to argue her way onto the team, given how much she has to offer.

Tamar gets a warning for cursing with enthusiasm and you cannot help but chuckle. If the other team wants a fight, they will definitely find one with her. You're about to ask if someone has seen Tolya when you feel the shadow casting across your shoulder.

"I'll get them back," Tamar is insisting.

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much," Tolya quotes, standing beside you. Tamar throws her brother an unamused look.

"Oscar Wilde," you say craning your neck up to look at Tolya. He looks different in his sporting kit, but his hair is still held back the same, and his arms are still exposed to the cold air, just not with rolled up sleeves this time. Looking at him makes you feel cold, and you want to ask him how he isn't.

"You're shivering," he points out.

"I am?" you ask, glancing down at your own body, "I hadn't expected it to be so cold."

"Here," Tolya reaches behind him into a bag and pulls out a jersey, it's for the team and is sporting his number on the back, he hands it to you with one hand. "So you're warm."

You take it slowly, mind racing with the many implications of such a small, kind gesture, and you don't want to jump the gun with this, with him. "Thank you," you manage, slipping the fabric over your shoulders. "I didn't even realise you had one of these."

"Everyone on the team has one," he says.

"No, a jacket," you tease, "you never wear one."

He shrugs. "I don't get cold," he explains, looking around to see how quickly he needs to make his way to the field.

"Then why did you carry it with you?" you ask. The jersey smells like Tolya, from being in his bag you'd guess, and you feel a weight in the side pocket, reaching in you find a small packet of dried mango. You let yourself smile at that.

"I've got to run," he says, "wish me luck?"

"Break a leg," you say, "or is that just something you say for theatre?"

"I'll take it," he says before joining the team.

You'd not given the sports of your school too much thought, but watching Tolya play you must admit you weren't giving the sport aspect much thought even now. You cheer for Tolya, not the game, you're watching Tolya, not the game. If anyone asked you what was happening you're not sure you'd be able to offer more than this name.

If you had any doubts about your schools victory they would have been quickly squashed by the victory cries from Tamar, all fervour and for more expletives than the coach is happy for there to be. She gets a whistle of a warning and a stern look which she just brushes off, letting her brother pull her into a hug.

You are leaning on the fence, which you hadn't noticed until now, with Tolya approaching you. The field is lower set than the stands but Tolya still feels very tall as he gets closer. You can understand why Nina described him as treelike. "Good game," you say. The warmth of his jersey on your skin feeling as secure as that embrace you watched him give Tamar, and it leaves you reaching out for him with eager thoughts and hesitant hands. You tuck them deep into your pockets- his pockets, trying not to give yourself away.

"Thank you," he says, the adrenaline in his smile is dizzying. "Thank you for coming by the way, it means a lot."

"Thank you for inviting me," you say. You want to say more, you want to find the words for this feeling, this gentle buzzing that is sparking between the two of you.

"Ask her you coward," Tamar calls from her place now sat next to Nadia, straddling the bench of a lower section of the bleachers, sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend.

Tolya laughs. "I made a bet with my sister, if we win I had to take that win, and take a risk," he says, and for someone so tall he looks so nervous. "And we won."

"You did," you nod, "quite well I think."

"Really well," he admits, laughter echoing in the spaces between the words.

"So what risk?" you ask, feeling yourself leaning onto your toes, needing to know, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

"I was wondering if you'd like to see me, outside of school hours?" he asks.

"Like now?" you ask, trying to keep the smile at bay. He tilts his head in a nod.

"Yeah, like now, but maybe more... just us," he says. You feel like you might fall down but you can't help but tease him.

"For studying?" you ask. He can tell you're playing with him.

"No," he says, "not for studying."

"Are you trying to ask me on a date Tolya?"

"I am trying."

"I would like that, I would like that a lot."

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inventedworld · 6 months

Text

THE LOOMING DARKNESS (Pt 2 of 3) — LEVERAGE

(This is the second in a three part series. For PART 1, start HERE.)

To millions of people, Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour presents itself as a repudiation of all that’s unpleasant or intractable about daily life. Wrapped up in pop-propelled grooves and glitter, this is the sand in which many human ostriches seemingly want to stick their heads. And why not? I’m no Swifty, but I understand the immediate appeal. Why watch cities burn when you can dance, dance, dance?

If you think that’s glib, it isn’t meant to be. Everyone wants to believe in a dazzling day and a sparkling night at least some of the time. The unspoken promise of The Eras Tour is that if this kind of scintillating dreamscape can even exist at all in a time of intense global turmoil, maybe things really aren’t so bad.

The title of this three-part series is not “The Coming Darkness”. I’m suggesting instead that darkness looms like a cloud, like something lurking, waiting, and potent. Real and lasting darkness is a genuine possibility— a strong one—but certitude would confer a sense of hopelessness. For the moment, at least, I’ve not yet abandoned all hope, although I’ll confess that it’s fading fast. The Eras Tour along with similar confections distracts people from the looming shadows with bright spectacle and adolescent fun. I can’t even affix blame here. Nobody wants to be glum.

But let’s not pretend. Hiding in plain sight just outside the concert venues are shockingly vocal, vibrantly active entities working hard to usher in an enveloping darkness. Daily we are suffused by many who seem to pursue bellicose self-absorption over the harder but more sustaining work of finding constructive ways to live together. Democratic stability teeters on a knife’s edge, and the risks of collapse have never been more perilous. Hundreds of thousands flock to Swift’s shows, suggesting a similarity of tastes and mores, yet communities everywhere have simultaneously fallen into shouting matches about banning books. Fights rage about whether scientific data really points to climate change, not to mention a lack of political motivation to do something meaningful about it. People continue to argue if vaccines should be mandated, regardless of how well science can explain how vaccination makes everyone healthier.

She may not be my jam, but I’ve got nothing wrong with Taylor Swift. As Paul Simon famously put it, “Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts.” My concern has to do with a culture that seems determined to distract itself to a point of soporific inaction. Your social media accounts are the microscopic analogue to Swift’s macroscopic live show. Largely a distraction from daily life, your Instagram feed pretends to be your tether to a larger world, when in fact it’s often little more than the elusive glint of a shiny object, a silvery fish darting beneath the liquid surface of reality.

Art, alternatively, presents a counter-narrative. While some art will always fetch a bunch of money—and reasonable people can debate elsewhere whether Swift’s music qualifies— most is simply about finding a way to make sense of the world. As a cultural expression, art therefore becomes a mechanism to enable people to share ideas outside the realm of material transactions or direct expressions of power. For those casually cruising on the Swift boat, the common theme appears to be escape from quotidian worries while endlessly searching for the perfect paramour. Wars rage, pandemics lurk, xenophobia rises, climate boils, but hey! We could always push the furniture back and dance in the living room, right?

Creative work literally becomes priceless because it emerges into the world without a price. It has a cost, of course. Paint doesn’t come for free. But where some people may pay a price to purchase a piece of creative work, it’s a true statement to say that no symphony nor painting nor sublime piece of poetry ever fed a hungry family after a deluge destroys their home. In a purely economic sense, art has no value at all. At the same time, I cannot imagine a world without symphonies and paintings and poetry, just as I cannot imagine a world without food, or the impetus to help those who don’t have any.

All this becomes backdrop to the massive transformation that literally remade how the world functions. We’ve all effectively achieved super powers since the start of the 21st century. Everyone has information on demand, anywhere and everywhere. Science delivered sophisticated protections against a new, deadly virus, whether you believe in those protections or not. People have the ability to be in instantaneous communications with anyone anywhere, basically all the time.

Based on these and thousands of other examples, one might think that technology is the means to pull humanity out of whatever morass into which it may have fallen. It’s as if your ability to Google an answer promises you the world of your own making. To millions of people, the whole idea of “art” is either a way a person may choose to spend precious free time (“Let’s see: museum or ball game?”), a luxury (“$400 for concert tickets?”), or simply a source of irrelevance (“Boring!”).

Perhaps. But where advancements of technical capability may be the stuff of magic to anyone who lived in earlier times it’s hardly a rudder to healthier, more stable cultures. We may “do more” in our lives now than ever before, but do we “live better”? We have neither abandoned war, nor embraced a sense of mutual respect and commitment. In our persistently connected electronic webs, we are more isolated than ever, with loneliness a newly pervasive cause for physical and emotional decline in many people. We’re isolated, less well informed, and yet overwhelmed with just keeping up. As if to illustrate the point, studies suggest that people are even having sex less often than in the past.

As usual, we turn to technology for comfort, and as usual, technology distracts us from actually finding something that comforts us.

Students are often first responders to this tension. Filled with the energy of youth, limited material bonds, and the self-declared certitude that’s only possible before life’s complexities have fully imposed themselves, students typically assert they know how things should be. Sometimes they erect barricades; sometimes they create ideas. Sometimes both.

Pure, righteous indignation doesn’t generally add constructively to discourse, but youthful passion cannot be ignored, and neither should the availability of moral investment. Passion germinates seeds of creative work, and it is up to us who are older and perhaps more experienced to help steer this energy away from the barricades and into more lasting expressions.

This is the fulcrum upon which the whole concept teeters. Those more lasting expressions may never get a chance to grow if the looming darkness descends. Right now the looming darkness appears to feed on self-interest and aggrieved anger, with countless messages reinforced every day that life is all about competition of one sort or another, an inward focus rather than an outward focus. If the most fundamental lessons we teach young people ultimately reduce to pursuits of self-interested “win” scenarios, it’s inevitable that local and global trends toward belligerence and hostility will continue. When everyone is a competitor, everyone becomes a risk. When everyone becomes a risk, everyone becomes an obstacle. When the goal of the day ultimately comes down to overcoming obstacles of once sort or another, society begins to dismantle support for civil liberties, privacy, and freedom of thought. Said more crudely, this process describes a descent into the most brutish aspects of survival of the fittest. In a world where survival itself becomes the dominant value, limited beauty can grow. Where beauty withers, souls wither, too.

A culture built of people who largely measure their days by how well they’ve advanced their status relative to others suggests a general hostility, a repudiation of life in favor of something even more transient. Nonetheless it may feel oddly twee to promote the importance of art in the face of looming darkness. Basic necessities like food, water, health care, and shelter easily supersede art in the daily hierarchy of need. I’ll suggest instead that this is precisely the leverage that makes art not only relevant, but essential. A culture built of people invested in creative enterprise is a culture that cares about building connections. Creative expressions almost always reach out. By its very nature art does not insulate itself from interaction; it pursues interaction. In times like these, when identity politics and political polarization press our self-interested faces into hand-held screens, the value of shared experiences becomes not simply a luxury, but a campfire on a bitterly cold night.

All creative work that requires more than a single person must, to some degree, contend with coercive market forces. Your four piece garage band can’t play in the local pub unless the pub owner knows who you are, likes how you sound, and agrees to promote you instead of some else. That’s true for big enterprises, too, but as creative work scales up in size, the potential for personal connections does not move commensurately. Big events like The Eras Tour are most certainly the product of many creative, inventive people involved in a massive creative project. I like a big show once in a while, too, and I’m not at all begrudging those who liked Swift’s. (Truth in reporting: I didn’t see it.) I also think it would be absurd to suggest malevolent actors steer her show and other similarly massive events in order to stupefy the proletariat in order to keep them under control. (Although depending on who comes to power next year, that may start to change.)

But events like The Eras Tour remind me of “Feelies” in Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World. Whether the effect was a design intention or an inevitable by-product, shows like Eras take on aspects of industrialized social engineering. They’re so large and expensive relative to other creative works that they tend to crowd out other artistic expressions from mainstream conversation. They require so much money, time, and resources, and also ingest an outsized proportion of collective attention, that they inadvertently appear to challenge the idea that most people aren’t interested in art or creative work. “That show was massive! And those screens and costumes were unbelievable!” My concern is that despite all of the apparent skill necessary to create something like Eras, it begins to act as a group-think means for centralizing thought, for pressing art out of the public’s attention. With vast audiences swept up in an all-enveloping arena experience that begins weeks prior to the event with the frenzy of simply getting a ticket, the cultural conversation becomes more monotonic. I’m sure that Taylor Swift the person is a person just like anyone else (if, perhaps, ridiculously more famous) but Taylor Swift the commercial invention is something describing different forces.

All of this brings us back to the beginning. Millions of people want to be distracted from the pain of daily life. More pointedly, millions of people want a less painful daily life. Events like The Eras Tour purport to be pressure valves for the masses, a brief respite from the looming darkness. What they do not do, however, is change the conversation in any way that might shine a light into that darkness as an antidote.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting an escape, wanting to fantasize and live vicariously. But when those escapes start to erode any sustained efforts to push back on forces of repression, hostility, or isolation, they become mirrored rooms. We enter and see ourselves smiling back in the reflections. We enjoy the surreal surprise of all the reflected light, and delight in how the experience feels nothing like the grind of our day to day spaces. Then we return to those day to day spaces and burrow back in to our competitive, often agitated, often angry little grooves. We look at our screens, again. And again. Then again. In the meantime, darkness looms closer. Until we collectively determine to engage it head on, rather than distract ourselves and pretend the darkness won’t be so bad, it will grow.

If we don’t, then we’ll find out just how dark things can be.

Next month, I’ll publish the final installment of this series. Part III is called REGRESSION, and it goes live here on Monday, January 1. Mark your calendar for appointment reading! You can also As a reminder, FASTER THAN LIGHT (this blog, my friends) publishes on the first Monday of every month.

@michaelstarobin

facebook.com/1auglobalmedia

#Taylor Swift #The Eras Tour #science #Brave New World

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baezdylan · 3 years

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ts lyrics - the silence that only comes when two people understand each other <3

part two (part one???? what are timelines again?) of this (could also be associated with this story, the snippets are indeed turning into a mirrorball love letter)

"the silence that only comes when two people understand each other"

- peace, Taylor Swift

"And the moon's never seen me before

But I'm reflecting light..."

- Reflecting Light, Sam Phillips

"He can see his arm stretching out, moving without his permission, reaching for the world outside of him like a tree branch reaches for the sky above."

- a snippet from the book he will never write

There is something tragically beautiful about the angle in which the sun is dancing on her skin. He closes his eyes for a lifetime resembling second, but they are still burning, which makes him open them again. He catches a glimpse of his purple sketchbook, that old Nirvana record his dad gave him when he was fourteen and finally, the Robert Herrick poetry book he gave her last September. Last September, when the trees still looked like trees and his life felt like a collection of freshly taken photographs rather than a book that's been read for far too many times. This is his life. Its crucial insignificance resting against his front door. The crucial insignificance of his life and her. Her and the beautiful tragedy of it all.

She's standing there, long fancy dress, mismatched shoes (which is almost surprising), sparkly blazer, a blazer than doesn't quite fit her visually, but compliments her perfectly when you are on friendly terms with memories and unwritten letters and the rationality of madness. It would have been much easier for him to remember her in a way that the poet remembers his muse, with flowers in her hair, sunlight hugging her everlasting presence, a beautiful echo of the past that never existed outside of its paper kingdom. He doesn't remember her like that. He remembers her in the same way that she, now hauntingly, was.

There is this window in his room. It's a decent window, a human creation that is nice and good, unlike many others. And this window was his friend for what appeared to be centuries (in his mind at least, then) and he would get so close to it at times, one might believe he was trying to accomplish something dreadful. But the thing is, he was only trying to get closer to whatever was outside. He was sad, but was he actually sad if he didn't label what he was feeling as sad? It's like a bad joke system. You think the joke is funny and hilarious and you think everyone is going to laugh, but then you it leaves your mouth and it's all wrong and not there.

He doesn't know why she's here when she's supposed to be gone, gone with her life, life that was happening, and his photographs and drawings of rose petals and all these things he was supposed to pretend he had forgotten.

"The sun likes your face." he says, which is like the ultimate "you're my favourite person" decleration in his head, it's just that he doesn't say any of it out loud. She probably knows this. It's a twisted "I love you" at worst, best, but it's them.

Her hand reaches for her shoulder where it finds its solace for a few seconds that happen in slow motion. But not like "this is important, pay attention to this, this is a grandiose moment" movie kind of slow motion. It's more about the incredible irrelevance of the gesture. It's that detail you notice on the twenty first rewatch of your favourite film because that's when you get desperate and crave something more.

He realizes how his eyes are watery when they're already watery enough to cause his cheeks to change colour. His sunglasses are on his head, not on his eyes and he has an excuse to put them down because there's a window in the hallway of the building. He doesn't put them down.

She is saying something, but somebody completely cut off the sound wires in his brain because he cannot hear her even though he can assume what she's saying. He remembers microscopes and how they only focus on one object at the time. He remembers how, an optical microscope, specifically, mastered the art of dancing with light. He is focusing on one thing at the time right now too. She takes a step closer, to him.

For the first time in a capsule full of whenevers, somebody is reaching out for something, somebody, him, too.

"I think it's the sunlight that finds comfort in our features, not the other way around. The bigger our smiles, the brighter our days."

- a snippet from the book that writes itself; each existing day, an equivalent of a book page; each present breath, an equivalent of a word

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americasmarauders · 4 years

Text

American Pie--Jason Todd.

author’s note: this has been on my drafts for an eternity. I finished this out of pure self-pressure and shame instileld by a tag game @batarella tagged me. I literally finished this in the treadmill, which I found is my favorite place to write.I wanna thank @batarella and @offendedfishnoises for being real troopers and encouraging me and proofreading this.

words: 2284

Beware: curse words (cause i’m a potty mouth), Jason being a shy pinning boy. I reccomend you listen to (or at least look at the lyrics for) American Pie by Don McLean and OUr Song by Taylor Swift.

Silence.

Excruciating silence. That was what Jason remembered from death.

He remembered thinking ‘This will be the day that I die,’ before the world turning black and silence overtook his entire being killing what was left of his soul.

After that it is all he remembered: silence.

He used to think music was everything. When he was bored, he used to bolt out to the most random songs in his room at the Wayne Manor, to the point of an angry Bruce storming to his room and quietly turning down the volume.

It took him a while to look fondly at those memories, and he still wasn’t sure if he did look at them like that. He was at the point of just thinking of them as just that: memories so far away from who he was, he considered them to belong to a different person entirely.

Music just didn’t hold the same wonder and joy as it did. Jason didn’t belt out whatever song he wanted anymore, he just idly stood by as any song came on whatever radio he was listening while he waited on his patrols.

It was like the music died with him.

He sipped his drink as a light jazzy tune sounded in the background of his mind. He didn’t pay any attention to it, rather he was engrossed in his own sorrow to listen to any of the diner’s songs.

He hummed in indifference, looking up from his cup and looking around. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the diner was mostly empty. There was a girl in the back, messing with the jukebox. Jason took a good look at her.

She was wearing a plaid skirt, with a bright orange cropped blouse. She wore her hair loose. She looked too engrossed in her song choice to realize anyone looking at her. He glanced at the table next to her: filled with books and old cups he assumed were once filled with coffee.

He heard an angry curse and saw her shaking aggressively the jukebox. “You, know,” he spoke up, “I’m not an expert on jukeboxes or anythin’ but I’m pretty sure that’s not how they work.”

She looked at him bewildered. She narrowed her eyes at him, almost as if she were trying to dissect him in a split second. “This machine swallowed my quarter and will not let me select a song.”

He abandoned his cup and got up, heading towards the weird lady. “Let me see if I can help.”

She stepped aside and left room for him to see what happened. “By all means.”

He quickly analyzed it. He glanced at the woman next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, meticulously analyzing what Jason was doing. He hit the spot next to the coin slot and heard the coin going down the mechanism. He got up and said: “There. All fixed.”

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been trying forever to get this thing to work and you come here and just make it work in seconds.” She turned to the jukebox and muttered, “Don’t you love me anymore, you silly machine?”

Jason laughed. “I’m Jason,” he said, extending his hand.

She took it and shook it. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well,” Jason stated awkwardly, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“No, wait!” she said. “Sit with me. I see you’re there all alone, and I need someone to listen to my thesis,” she explained. “You seem like a nice guy, you know? What do you say? I’ll buy you a milkshake,” she smiled.

Jason pondered. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. And maybe a little company would do him well. She seemed perfectly nice, albeit a little weird. Why not?

“What are you working on?” he said, sitting opposite to where she was.

She smiled and went on and on about her research. To be completely honest, Jason only understood about half of what she was saying, and every time he made a funny face she would pause and patiently explain it again until his face melted into something resembling understanding. She would smile at him, and his heart hiccupped every time she did.

She bought him a drink, and they stayed at the diner for a while. Jason discovered she wasn't from Gotham--not that it was hard to see, she had invited a complete stranger to sit with her in a shady diner in one of the worst neighborhoods of the city. She was a student, getting her master's in something too complicated to explain in the hours they spent together. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she talked about her research. Jason liked that.

He offered to walk her home. She refused. He smiled and gave her a knowing look. "Listen, I'm sure you know Gotham ain't a safe city,” he said. "Imagine it at night," he should know. He was a witness and victim of the horrors of Gotham.

She budged. He carried her books for her. She seemed grateful. She tried the whole afternoon to get him to talk about himself. Jason didn't want to scare her off, so he gave her the bare minimum. Do you have a degree? No, but I'd like to. What do you do? I'm a freelancer. Do you have any siblings? No.

Looking back at the moment she stood in front of her building, lit by streetlights, eyes twinkling with something Jason wouldn't recognize until much later, he knew he should have kissed her. He shouldn't have held her at arm’s length for so long. Alas, he had. He didn't kiss her. She says he was a perfect gentleman. He knows that. It doesn't mean he doesn't have regrets.

She gave him her phone number. "I liked talking to you. If you're ever around the diner again, call me. I'll save all the good stuff for you," she winked. He laughed. He saved her phone number as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It kinda was.

He texted her. He went to the diner, intentionally. He had to see her.

No, he didn't. He didn't have to see her. If he didn't, it would have been another 'what if' of his life. He would survive, and maybe regret that he had chosen what he had chosen. The difference was he wanted to see her. And he hadn't done something he wanted in a very long time.

He was the first to arrive. He sat by the window, looking at the city. The sun was setting, there was an orange glow illuminating the diner. He awkwardly fiddled with his straw, stirring the milkshake (strawberry as always, he wasn't an animal like Tim) calmly. He heard the bell ringing.

She walked in and Jason swore she was an angel. The light hugged her, and he thought she was there to save him. Save him from himself, from the nightmares, from his job, from his trauma. She smiled at him and he was goner. Second time seeing her and he was gone. He fell for her.

She was wearing glasses, her hair tied, sweatpants and a Gotham University t-shirt. Her bag hung from her shoulder, her hand wrapped tightly around the strap. She wasn’t nowhere near as dressed up as last time he saw her. It didn't matter. She was beautiful either way. She fixed her glasses as she sat in front of him.

She ordered some tea, and Jason thought who orders tea in a diner. She did. Y/N was extraordinary that way. She said she had thought about him. He somehow believed her. He smiled back at her and sipped his milkshake.

“I brought you something,” she said. She dug through her purse and took out a book. She slid it to him over the table. His hands unfurled from his cup and grabbed it. His eyes skimmed over the hardcover. Shakespeare’s Sonnets. A rare edition at that. “I think you might've read it already,” she shrugged. “You mentioned you liked Shakespeare. I was walking through a book shop near the University and I saw this edition and I thought of you.”

Jason flipped through the book, the smell of dust filing his senses. That was the smell of a good book. A book that had seen many lives. He loved it. He looked at her, her eyes expecting a reaction of him. He offered her a shy smile. She took it and her smile was so bright it almost blinded him. “Thank you. I—I— It’s very thoughtful of you.”

“You’re welcome, Jason,” she replied. “I thought you would like it.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He held back once again. He wanted to tell her that he loved it. That it was probably one of the best gifts he had ever received. “I liked it.”

She reclined on the seat and smirked. “It’s quiet here, isn’t it?” she said. Jason looked at her quizzically, his hands resting on the book. He saw her get up from her seat, a coin on her hand. She put the quarter on the jukebox and selected a song. She seemed proud of herself as Jason watched her with nothing but wonder. She sat in front of him again, as a piano played on the background and a voice of a man sounded through the tune.

“I love this song,” she stated. “Don’t you?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know it.”

She was shocked. “You don’t? That’s a first. Someone that doesn’t know ‘American Pie’.”

“Isn’t that a movie?” he asked. With the limited popular culture knowledge he had, he still knew some things.

“Yes it is, but it was a song before that. By Don McLean. 1971,” she hummed with the tune. “It’s like poetry.”

He gave her a funny face. “I hardly think it’s like poetry.”

She gasped, pretending to be offended. “Betrayal,” she whispered, but soon after she smiled. “It’s because you’re not appreciating it enough,” she answered. She grabbed another quarter of her purse and got up. She pointed to him as she walked to the jukebox. “Listen to it and pay attention.”

“Fine,” Jason huffed. He didn’t want to tell her that his appreciation for music had died with him. Not yet.

He listened to it. Really did. Truthfully, he hadn’t understood a single word of what he meant, but Y/N seemed happy that at least he had somewhat liked the song. It was catchy. But he would hardly classify it as poetry.

"I'll convince you. Music is everything," she said.

So it began her quest to culture Jason, as she called it. He found it endearing to say the least. His judgement was seriously clouded.

She would send recommendations to him, writing extensively how these songs were everything to her. Because of that Jason would pay extra attention to it.

It felt strangely personal to listen to them with them in mind. It was like listening to a part of her soul. It might as well be that. She was entrusting him with a part of her, and he wasn't exactly worthy of that.

He felt dangerously unprotected around her. Jason was constantly toying with the line between keeping up his eccentric bad boy façade and opening his heart to her. Who was he kidding? He already had opened his heart to her. He just hadn't told her yet. He didn't know if he was going to.

Reading the sonnets suddenly felt extremely personal too. It wasn't about appreciating art anymore. He was living the love poems. He was feeling everything Shakespeare was describing. Desperation rose in him the first time he realized that.

How was he supposed to continue with his job--oh God, his job--when there was someone out there that cared if he was dead or alive? How was he going to blackmail a drug lord when he himself could be blackmailed? What was he going to say to Bruce? What was he supposed to do?

A soft pop song played on the radio. They were going through pop songs now. Y/N had said it was imperative that he'd listen to Taylor Swift. And Jason could admit she had a point.

As he drove through the quiet highway, his hand itched to hold hers. They were driving to Metropolis. She had said there was an exhibit that they couldn't miss. A science exhibit. Jason didn't care for science, but she did, and seeing her with that glint in her eyes was the best part of his day.

Fuck it, he thought. His hand left the shift and encapsulated hers. He could feel her gaze on him, he knew she was smiling. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. Thank God, he was alive.

She turned down the volume of the song. His eyes shifted to hers for a second, her expression neutral. "What's wrong?" He said, his voice bordering desperation.

"We don't have a song," she said, quietly. "We don't have a song," she repeated.

Jason's worry dissipated into thin air, and he opened a smile. "Of course we do."

"How? I don't remember ever--" she trailed off, looking confused at him. His eyes once again went to her, his smile soft.

"How about laughs, the soft sound of cars outside? The jazzy tune you always play on the fucking jukebox," he heard her laugh, his hands squeezed hers. "Reciting poems, you rambling about whatever you discovered? Huh?" he hummed. "That's our song."

She smiled at him one again. And that was when he knew what he was supposed to do.

He was supposed to live. And he was going to live with her by his side.

author’s note: here is the link to my masterlist and the link to my jason playlist

#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x y/n #Jason Todd #red hood x reader #Red Hood X y/n #red hood #red hood x oc #my masterlist

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latetaektalk · 3 years

Text

tag games

tagging : @cosmoguk @jtrbluv @yeojaa @opaljm @sleepyjhs @gyukult @jentwt @cafemiya @masterninjacow @gamerkooks and everyone else that has tagged me

tag game one : fic writers ask game

tagged by : @luvdsc thanks cat! this is super fun ✨

Which new trope would you like to try writing?

ex-friends-to-lovers!! in general i love any ex type of tropes!! a heist! au would be fun too

Which trope do you want to write again?

exes! like, i genuinely love that trope so much and feel like theres not enough out there!

Which draft are you most excited to post?

i dont write multiple stories at the same time, so the newest chapter of love to hate you

Is there any new genre you want to explore?

hm i guess fluff? i kinda write angst by default because i think fluff is kinda... boring and not dramatic enough, so i guess i wanna try out fluff!

Do you have a favorite line in any of your drafts up to now?

“Can’t you at least pretend like you think I’m funny?”

“Yeah, that costs extra.”

“And you scolded Jisoo for exploiting me,” Jungkook bit back.

“Well, you said you’re all mine to exploit, didn’t you?” you hummed, scrunching your nose. “You are my boyfriend after all, right?”

Jungkook stared at you, blinked three times before tilted his head to the side and tongued his cheek, defeat.

“Touché.”

Have you decided on any creative goals for 2021?

not really! i just try to write, have fun and improve honestly!

Describe your journey on this blog last year in three words! And three more words for what you hope for 2021!

2020: growth, friendships, fun

2021: growth, friendships, fun (dont really wanna change anything! im having fun!)

tag game two : 10 songs, 10 people

rules : you can tell a lot about a person from the type of music they listen to. put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs. then tag ten people. no skipping!

playlist chosen : love to hate you

kiss me - sixpence none the richer

anything you want - jawny

can i call you tonight? - dayglow

heartbreak in a box - juice

daydreaming - marc wavy

lover boy - phum viphurit

let’s fall in love for tonight - finneas

dontmakemefallinlove - cuco

strangers in a dream - phum viphurit

afterglow - taylor swift

tag game three : interview

rules : answer questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!

tagged by : @lcksndkys thank you so much! these are a ton of fun ✨

name/nickname : linh

pronouns : she/her

star sign : scorpio

height : around 170 cm or 5′7

time currently : 10:30 pm

when is your birthday : nov 9th

favorite band/groups : exo, red velvet, bts, nct, superm, blackpink, twice

favorite solo artist : taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, harry styles, finneas

song stuck in your head : gone by rose

last movie you watched : get smart, i think

last show you binged : taskmaster

when you created your (main) blog : like april 2019 maybe?

last thing you googled : how many seconds in a year

other blogs : this and my recs blog

why i chose my url : like late night talk, so i turned the night into taek because of taehyung, baekhyun and taeyong afdfsa

how many people are you following : 305

how many followers do you have : around 1.7k

average hours of sleep : uh not much? idk online class is kinda killing my sleep schedule

lucky number : 7

instruments : piano

dream job : dont know, but something that i enjoy and make good money at?

dream trip : vietnam, china, south korea, japan, england, france, netherlands

favorite food : potatoes, salmon, dim sum

nationality : chinese

favorite song : cruel summer by taylor swift,, its literally my most played song of 2020

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in : marvel, atla, we bare bears

tag game four : this or that

indoor plants or gardens // cloud-watching or star-gazing // water or fire // paperback or hardcover // running or hiking // sleeping with socks or without socks // fruit or vegetables // hanging plants or succulents // dark wood or light wood // handwritten or typed // instagram or pinterest // braids or pigtails // dc or marvel // books or movies // oceans or meadows // forests or fields // sweet or salty // ice cream or chocolate // hoodies or sweaters // long hair or short hair // piercings or tattoos // summer or winter // boots or sneakers // cars or motorcycles // curls or straight hair // castles or cottages // sunny days or storms // reptiles or birds // disney or nickelodeon // strawberries or watermelon // essays or posters // phones or laptops // glass or stone // dark or light // photos or paintings // circuses or theatres // reading or writing // dogs or cats // poetry or novels // monsters or ghosts // thrift shops or libraries // fiction or non-fiction

tag game five : ten biases tag

rules : write down your top 10 biases and answer the following questions

seulgi

baekhyun

taehyung

joohyun

jungkook

jennie

chaeyoung

nayeon

mark

jongin

1. between 1 and 4 who would you rather kiss?

uhm cant i just kiss both? i could never choose between the two sadfsd

2. between 2 and 7 who would be your best friend?

chaeyoung because she speaks english but also because i feel like she and i would hit it off better

3. between 5 and 10 who has the better voice?

love jongin and his voice, but yeah jungkook

4. between 1 and 8 who is the funniest?

ohh thats hard, but i think its nayeon adsfas

5. between 6 and 9 who would you date?

jennie. if i have the chance to date kim fucking jennie, im dating kim fucking jennie. bye mark im not even sorry

6. between 9 and 10, who would you do a collaboration with?

mark! i feel like working with him would be so funny because he just talks and talks and talks asdfdas

7. between 4 and 8 who is the best dancer?

joohyun!

8. between 3 and 5 who would you most likely marry?

uhm uhm uhm- i think im gonna go with taehyung? mainly because of yeontan asdadsf

9. between 1 and 7 who would you nurse when they are sick?

seulgi no fucking question asdfsd like sorry, bestie chaeyoung, but seulgi just owns my heart :((

10. between 2 and 3 who has the better smile?

i dont think this is fair at all?? because both have such gorgeous smiles?? im not choosing asdfs

11. between 6 and 8 who would you vacation with?

jennie! feel llike she would pay for everything and kinda spoil me,, also feel like she would want to do the craziest shit

#linh.tagged

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ewdaviddd · 4 years

Text

folklore think piece

for a lower case album such as this, i will be writing a lowercase think piece on the subject. i will not explain why. you get it or you don’t.

the 1: i have never been in love or any type of romantic relationship that left me with lasting feelings of any kind. but, on my fourth listen through of this song today, what once was just a promising and fun intro to this peasant girl summer gut punch, brought me to actual tears as i sat on the toilet in my lime green childhood bathroom as if i were mourning the one that got away (another great song). however, i am an expert on being hung up on the past, the “what could have been”, and made up hypotheticals. this song also introduces the film motif seen a lot in this album. i think dating an actor has really gotten to her. anyway what a killer way to begin, top notch stuff. how can a song be so fun and so soul crushing at the same time?

cardigan: when did taylor wear black lipstick? this is important to me. an old cardigan is an inherently bisexual article of clothing. that is not an opinion. i read it somewhere today and i believe it. this is the tip of the queer-coding ice berg in folklore, never fear. another reference, “tried to change the ending / peter losing wendy”. this year i wrote a movie script where both peter and wendy were both gay. coincidence? probably. basically this one is classic taylor poetry on every level and it being one of a trio in a larger story makes it that much better. yet again, high school romance is not a universal experience (like for me for instance) but haunting my “what-ifs” is going to haunt me for a long time. and the thought of someone saying i was their favorite cardigan makes me want to scream into a pillow.

the last great american dynasty: my favorite ts songs have always been the ones with detailed characters and stories and this one introduces the trope of the “mad woman” who comes back later on as well a long with many fun character details. at first this song is just cheeky and cute, very visual, a fun world to jump into. but then this particular stretch of lines makes your heart drop into your chest and reminds you why taylor isn’t just always fun and always cute and always creative, she also holds the ability to nimbly sock you in the gut when you least expect: “fifty years is a long time / holiday house sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.” my jaw is still on the floor. and i’ve never bought a house myself. but i’ve spent numerous christmases having a marvelous time ruining everything (so i’ve been told) so this song still applies to my life.

exile (ft. bon iver): i’m gonna be honest. for as long as i can remember i have strongly disliked bon iver and i never remembered why. it is a matter of principle at this point. i just don’t trust him. but then taylor announced she wrote a song with him which filled me with tremendous anxiety. but i can rest easy. much like “the last time” this song is a ts and male artist collaboration i can get behind. also the film motif again: the only time i’ve left a theatre when i didn’t like a movie was never because movie tickets are so expensive and if i’m shelling out 11 dollars to sit in a chair, i’m staying the whole time no matter how bad the ending. but i probably would have left my sister’s keeper if i had seen it before if i’m being honest. so i get it. thats why i read spoilers for everything i watch before watching it, because the anxiety of worrying about how it ends make me not enjoy it in the first place. the end of this song: the call and response felt… ethereal? i felt like i was watching a broadway musical from the splash zone seats, crying as i was spat on.

my tears ricochet: this song is what i picture stepping outside in the middle of the night when an inch or so of snow has just fallen and i can see the flakes fall in front of a street light sounds like. or the scorned secret ex lover throwing themselves onto the coffin demanding to know why they weren’t enough. which is to say it feels like a sign from some sort of god. yet again, haunting is brought up, an overt reference to the fact that this album will live in my brain rent free for eternity. for some reason this song reminds me of the relationship between hamilton and burr when burr kills hamilton. that could be because i just watched the disney+ recording last week. one lives, one dies, but neither survive, both pay for it. Which is a super romantic and understanding view on murder. both musical experiences equally chilling and moving. if i die under mysterious circumstances this will for sure be played at the funeral.

mirrorball: first off, this is my mom's favorite which is very important. also, it has skewered a very specific but also universal insecurity of mine; existing just to please others and yet miserably failing. it is comforting that ts is not a “natural’ and feels she must always “try try try” because i too lack natural ability, but also rarely “try” even just the one time. the best way i can describe listening to this song is walking through a silent disco where everyone else is listening to some classic lady gaga jam and you are listening to a calming lullaby sung very far away. but don’t let the soothing sounds fool you. it still will have you reflecting on what it means to look and be looked at. a dark rabbit whole, like falling through the looking glass. i’ve never actually read that book though so i could be wrong.

seven: i’m dumb and on my first listen of this song i thought she “hit her peak” at 7 clock as opposed to age seven. but i always saw taylor swift as someone with an early bedtime. also a fun discovery while writing this, “seven” is the 7th song on the track list. clever. although this song is young and innocent and so nostalgic for a time when screaming ferociously was a widely accepted form of expression, it also sounds like a very old secret someone is whispering to me. a love from long ago that lasts beyond the person being in your life, passed down to me and it all just sounds a little gay. not just because of the specific line to hiding in the closet. but that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. when i was seven i was definitely in love with girls and assumed that was just what friendship was, playing pirates and making plans of running away together.

august: the eighth track for the eighth month. her mind. also my birth month so that’s special. controversial opinion: from what i’ve read most people seem to think illicit affair is the third song in the triage of teen love. i will strongly make the case that it's actually this one. first of all, the subject: a short lived summer fling, which is specifically mentioned later in “betty”. the central heartbreak of this song is liking someone who always belonged to someone else. yes, this song is a window into a different summer, far from pandemic central and the escapist imagery is delightful. but a whole song from the pov of the “other woman” to james and betty is just so much more fun. and there are two more specific lyrics that prove my point. “remember when i pulled up and said "get in the car”” you will see later comes back from the other person’s perspective. and most of all: the repeated line, “meet me behind the mall”? only teenagers make plans to meet up behind a mall. i rest my case. so now we have cardigan and august. two pieces of the puzzle.

this is me trying: i’m glad i now have a succinct message to send to anyone when they ask me what the hell i’m doing at any given moment. this song just sounds like regret and waste in the most self-assured and confident way. this is “back to december” with the training wheels off. i have no apologies for my efforts at wasting all my potential. but in this song, taylor has opened her arms to me in a warm embrace and has forgiven me for all i’ve done wrong and reminds me to not take for granted the “try”. okay mom. i’m crying again, but okay.

illicit affair: this is the kind of thing that makes you feel sixteen, living in a dull suburb, while secretly screwing your 38 year old married neighbor who’s rich but wants to be an artiste. aka like a character in euphoria or something. it’s sexy and dangerous until you think about it and then it's just dingy and creepy. but this song starts and stays beautiful. most importantly, this song is too sad and depressing frankly, to be a part of the trilogy. we could never forgive james for leaving such a mess and making her a fool. you don’t want to be this girl. you want to walk up to her and shake her and yell “you exist and will not be ruined by any dumb man”. and that’s feminism.

invisible string: is it reductive if i say this one’s about joe? all my non-stan friends have asked me which ones are about him. we forgive them and point them in this direction. because it is lovely and beautiful that we are all tied to our soulmate for our whole lives before we ever meet them (because that would in fact mean that there is someone out there for everyone which might be naive or dumb but i am both of those things and whats the point of living if you don’t believe in the power of love). this honestly gives me “begin again” vibes in the best way. it’s red-era level with the wisdom of lover-era tay. sublime.

mad woman: the second mention of the “mad woman” as both taylor herself and the character in the story. as usual, tay stays calling out double standards and the manipulation of women into “going crazy” for expressing reasonable anger. I, personally, wish i could say “fuck you forever” without someone saying i’m “overreacting”. this is my least favorite song on the album and i’d still listen to it three times in a row and need to resist the urge to set a man’s lawn on fire. just girly things.

epiphany: i know she said this one is about her grandfather’s experience in the military but all i imagine is a slow montage of harry style’s character in “dunkirk” on the beach. and it’s beautiful. and much like my sophomore in high school self reading “all quiet on the western front” it evokes a pain from deep inside me that engulfs a loss i could never describe and a sadness too awful to witness. you will listen to this song and feel absolutely powerless to the will of the universe and it’s cruelty. and the faint but steady heart monitor beep in the background… i’ve never seen “grey’s anatomy” but i can imagine why it has so many fans sobbing. and let me end on this: two soldiers in some old war (meaning both men based on dunkirk) watching each other like this and living and dying together…gay.

betty: the first verse was pulled directly out of my subconscious fantasy of being in love in high school and it being so wonderful and painful and dramatic. and taylor riding a skateboard… is a mood. the song has been out for less than a week and it’s already a cold take to talk about how this is her gayest song to date (close runner-ups being reputation’s “dress” and “cardigan”). but of course i will still talk about it. the lyrics embody such authentic awkward gay energy (see the lesbian in booksmart for reference) and having been a 17 year old only three years ago, i can say with reasonably good authority that no 17 year old straight boy could stand in front of a crowd of peers and beg forgiveness from a girl he hurt. it’s just not realistic. these are all awkward, over-dramatic, young girls stumbling through love. and it’s awesome. james is the speaker of this song, and the subject of “august”, the summer fling that was never truly there due to james’ love for betty, the titular role of this song. thus completing the love triangle. and there are so many obvious references in this song to both “august” and “cardigan”. rhyming cardigan with car again makes me want to light myself on fire in the best way. i love it. “i dreamt of you all summer long” is the final nail in the coffin for the girl in “august” who was clearly just a place-holder. totally separate from taylor swift, my favorite word is porch. so the amount of times it appears in her lyrics is wonderful. say it out loud. it just feels nice. anyway, this song makes me want to be young and dumb and in love. the second can really only be tolerated because of the first and third. i hope the story has a happy-ending. if james were a boy i’d wish him the plague.

peace: the coming-of-age movie starring james and betty (and inez) is over. we have come to “the age” i guess. there’s a thought that’s gonna fester. if this song was just the line, “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” over and over for four minutes it would still smash me to pulp and fill my body with helium gas. i can and will cause a car wreck when this comes on the aux. if this song is what being grown up is like (bare in mind grown up to me is like, 30) then i’m ready to be done coming of age. because i already worry if i’ll be at all enough for anyone and way too much for someone at the same time. but like all good poetry, this song isn’t about what it “means”, but how it “feels”. and this is new york city, the summer, pouring rain, a long walk home, desperately fearing and hoping they are there waiting for you.

hoax: a one-sided conversation between me and my stubborn clinical depression. i too, constantly stand alone on the cliff demanding a reason. one has not yet been presented. it operates both within and and against me. i could be bigger and stronger than it. but instead i tend to it like a prickly plant. (“no other sadness in the world will do”). there is nothing both sadder and funnier then the scene in “avatar: the last airbender” when prince zuko stands alone on a cliff screaming at the sky for lightning to strike him. i don’t know why this song reminds me so much of that. what a way to end such an emotional rollercoaster. it is so emotionally draining that it simply forces me to start folklore again from the top and listen to it all over again. or take a long therapeutic nap.

there are no skips. and it will still surprise you on your 267th listen. proceed with caution.

i knew you, in a past life maybe. i have not met you yet, but folklore has made me believe you exist.

@taylorswift 10/10 good work

@taylornation this had to be shared and i don’t have a twitter so

#@taylorswift #@taylurking #@taylornation #taylor swift #folklore #ts8

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flirting-with-psychology · 3 years

Text

[zombiebandido]

Can you recommend any Neil Gaiman to me, aside from Stardust or Good Omens? I cannot

What’s the best concert you’ve been to, if you’ve been? Idk, I think I’m just not huge on concerts

What’s the funniest screenname you’ve ever seen? i-run-with-scissors-to-feel-dangerous

Is there an animal you like that most people don’t? Don’t think so

Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it’s liked? Goats or cows, maybe

Is there a time period you think is underrated? Not really

What about music? Showtunes

Do you find yourself listening to music that’s a bit more esoteric? No

What are your three favorite books and why? Harry Potter because of the worldbuilding, Mistborn because of the worldbuilding and characters, A Confusion of Princes because it is a fun standalone book

What about authors? Idk, I mostly like specific books Do you have any likes you wouldn’t tell someone until you got to know them? Nah probably not

Do you have a favorite language? Not really

What about a place you’ve always wanted to visit? Ireland

What’s something someone does or says that just makes you laugh? Idk, it’s usually situational

Do goldfish crackers ever make you sick, or is that just me? No?

Do you have a favorite art style? Probably realistic

Do you have a favorite myth/fairy-tale? No, sorry I’m being boring with this quiz

Who is your favorite person aside from family? Probably my bff

Do any of your pets (if you have them) have weird quirks? My cat was just very emphatic

Do you listen to music from anywhere besides America? Not really

Have you ever “quit” a site and came back to it more than once? No

Do you have an “odd” fascination with anything? Dice

What is the thing you want most at this moment? An interesting job and a return to normal from the pandemic

What was the last book you read and what was it about? I’m currently reading The Martian about an astronaut stranded on mars

What was the worst book you’ve ever read & why? Walk Two Moons because the twist ending fucked me up

Do you have a favorite breed of dog or cat? Which? Golden retrievers

If you like any anime/manga, what are some titles you recommend? I don’t really like it

What do you think about school in general? I thought it was interesting and I wish I could go back

What’s the hardest thing you’ve been through, & what did you learn from it? Maybe the braces. Dk what I learned from it

What are three “unrealistic” things you want most? An interesting creative job with steady and high pay lol, the lottery, the good place experience from The Good Place

What are some of your favorite foods? Pasta, chocolate, cereal. I am a simple girl

Where do you like to buy your clothes? Kohl’s, Macy’s, and thrift shops

Do you take any daily vitamins? When I remember

Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? Kelsier from Mistborn, Sirius Black from Harry Potter, Raydan Lykel from The Crown and the Flame

If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Idfk

When buying Slurpees, if you do, do you get only one flavor or mix them? Mixing is fun

Do you have a favorite 7Eleven food? No

Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? Not strongly

If you could have any career, “realistic”-ness aside, what would it be? Something in film maybe

What are three memorable movies from your childhood? The Little Mermaid, Harry Potter, Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper

Do you, personally, put a space after ellipses, or not? Let me check... do I? I guess I do

What do some of the things that inspire you have in common? Making things

Micky D’s sweet tea, y/n/other? No

What are three of your best (non-physical) qualities? Creativity, honesty, smarts

What are three of your worst (again; non-physical) qualities? Stubbornness, anxiety, lack of empathy

What is one of your firmest beliefs? I don’t really have firm beliefs

Do you ever question things until you’re unsure of even the silliest thing? Yes

Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you’d truly enjoy? Anxiety and procrastination, and money

What are your three biggest pet peeves (personality-wise) in others? Holier-than-thou people, acting like you’re too cool for fun, being unsafe

Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I admit to most of them but I’m not so great at working on them

What are three of your best physical qualities? (NOT EYES!) Why not eyes? Other than that, I guess hair color, boobs, singing voice (at least I’d like to think so)

What are some of your greatest aspirations? Do something fun, have a good social life, see what I would look like in my prime

How do you hope the world will change, if at all? Get done with the pandemic, stop having capitalism be so shitty

Who are three (fairly known) people you find very intriguing? Taylor Swift, Voldemort, F. Scott Fitzgerald

What are three things that make you the happiest? hanging out with friends, crafts, cuddling with my boyfriend

What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? I don’t believe in them

Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? YES

Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? No, I am just not that into video games

What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? Macbook Pro

What are you good at? Crafts and school

What career do you hope to have? Something creative

Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I’m finished with school but I wish I could go back

If you don’t attend, are you taking any “lessons” for anything? No

A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? Harry Potter

If you know of pandora.com, what is your favorite station? I haven’t listened to pandora in ages

Have you ever “lost” a friend in any way? How did you deal? Some just faded away but some actively ditched me and I tried to find out why

Any music recommendations? Showtunes

What are at least three of your biggest fears? Spiders, living a mundane life, covid right now

Most recently read book that you liked? A Confusion of Princes

Do you have a piece of jewelry you don’t like to take off? No, I have so many that I like to alternate them

Do you have a favorite quote? Why is it your favorite? Carpe Diem. Haven’t lived it much lately though Any odd pastimes you have? Making lists and charts

Are you quirky in any way? (Name them please). My fashion sense especially in high school, the nerdy things I do

Have any practices you aren’t opposed to but wouldn’t do yourself? Probably a lot, I’m generally of the live and let live mindset

Political standing?

Left

Do you have any piercings/what do you think about piercings? I just have my ears pierced

Do you have a favorite material? I’m a fan of soft materials like suede or velvet, also metals like copper and silver

What are three names you’d name a pet if you HAD to get a pet right now? It depends on the pet

Do you like to listen to dorky/amusing music? Idk

Coffee vs. Tea vs. Energy Drinks: Order from favorite to least favorite. Tea, energy drinks, coffee

Do you like more “fruity” sweets or “savory” sweets? Fruity unless it’s chocolate

What do you hate the most? Spiders

What genres of music are your favorite? Showtunes

Do you believe in true love? Idk

Do you believe in love at first sight? If yes, why? No

What are some of your favorite clothing accessories? Jewelry

If reincarnation exists, what sort of person would you want to be next?

One of those outgoing guys that always has adventures with his friends What are some things you believe strongly in? Idk

Where’s your favorite place you’ve been? London was pretty cool, also Italy

What sort of books and movies do you like? For books: sci-fi, fantasy, dystopia. For movies: rom-com, sci-fi, musical

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Saturday? Idk, just stay in

Is there a book you’ve read that really touched you? The Great Gatsby just because I related to Gatsby a lot

Do you have a favorite artist? Taylor Swift

PC or MAC? Mac

What do you love doing? Crafts, shopping, board games

If you could create the perfect world for yourself, what would it be? Basically just the good place from The Good Place. Unlimited time and resources to learn and try things without pressure to make money off it

Do you think that fate plays a part in people’s lives? Not really

Are you religious, spiritual, atheist…? Atheist

What are your opinions on the media? The media is a very broad range of things

Do you think that people throw the words “love” and “hate” around too much? Idk

What is your favorite piece of technology that you own? My laptop

What’s a piece of technology you’d like to own? I have what I want at the moment.

Are you afraid of technology developing to where we’re too reliant on it? A little bit of getting to the point where a lot of jobs get replaced with AI, because instead of making lives easier like they could be, there will just be a huge unempolyment problem that our stupid capitalist society won’t solve

Does it bother you when people do things to fit in with a certain crowd? If it’s not what they want to do

Hot or cold? Cold Do you think that Bzoink should extent the character amount for questions? I don’t use Bzoink

Do you have a favorite combination of complimentary colors? Maybe green and pink

Do you know why all the young people who have nice cars always look grumpy? I don’t think I’ve noticed that

What’s your favorite odd ice cream flavor? Lemon Sorbet or Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch

Where do you like to get your ice cream? Haagen Dasz or Ben and Jerry’s

What’s your opinion on stereotypes/labels? Idk

Do you ever use random word generators for Bzoinkoids?

What?

Do you believe that history repeats itself? It sure seems like it is

Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Learn from them

What was the most interesting class you had in school? My words and music class in college Do you write? If so, what? I used to write poetry, I sometimes come up with stories but I don’t really write them

Do you have a favorite website? Tumblr and Etsy

Do you think that the quality of TV shows is going down? No, there are usually good ones to discover

Do you have a favorite culture? Maybe Celtic. I just like the art patterns What was a story you heard as a child that really affected you? The Headless Horseman scared me a lot

Who was your favorite grade-school teacher and why? My third grade teacher and my 6th grade math teacher

Do you think that the world will end? How? Probably in a few billion years when the sun turns into a red giant

Do you believe in Global Warming? Have you researched it? Yes but I haven’t researched it

Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? Tattoos

Do you remember your dreams? Sometimes

#survey

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definedbywhatilove · 4 years

Text

seven months

hey taylor! this is a little story of my journey since the last time that i let you in to my inner world... its been seven months...(feels like 20 lifetimes of growth) and two months since I moved to California and one week since I left my grandest, most divine partner in L.A to continue my journey of self discovery, self awareness, self love, and self soverignty... and i wanted to mention something important to you -- a sign, an invisable string if you will. since i was a kid, your music always followed me and described my life experiences. as i began a deep journey of self understanding, i went away from the reality that i knew (much alike your time to yourself, away from the media) last oct/november. and i let myself fall deeply, and madly in love. you know the love i'm talking about. the red love. the deeply open and vulnerable heart love, despite all past burns to the heart. the one you write poetry and songs about. i know you feel deeply self worth inside. i know that you relyed on guys to help fill that void. same as me. same as so many beautiful woman out there. giving our hearts away.. loving so damn red. but loving so: fearlessly. bravely. courageously. vulnerably. openly. you can't regret a thing, can you? and the months piled up. nine months december 27 he came to Christmass dinner ten months january 27 this is... love eleven months febuary 27 this is home 1 year march 27 this is the 1 three days after, my life came crashing down. i wake up to coughing. masks. fear. my house turned into a graveyard a grounds of fear, pain, suffering sickness. not me. her. my dads partner. someone who i thought, in my own ego, i despised. in that moment, i knew i loved. two hours. it was less than two hours that i packed two suitcases, and a heavy backpack full of everything that mattered to me. i had practised this before. countless nights isoltated in my room, pretending to pack to run away. really considering running away. but never running. it was a blur. i don't remember much. a message to stay, but the knowingness that it was my time to leave. one last goodbye. no hug. a promise. with my father. knowing he would get sick. knowing that my father, my Rock, my stable Father could very evidently get sick and die. was this a goodbye forever? i didn't know but i left. i had to leave. by some greater plan from God, or whoever is orchestrating this magical universe, my partner moved to my city by chance through the winter and I went to him. i moved in; my heart afraid of moving in with somebody that i love because love had only ever hurt me. i moved in with my partner and allowed my dad the space to go through his own conscious awakening. thirteen months WILL HE DIE? i prayed everyday. i surrendered. i released the outcome. i surrendered to my partner and the relationship and accepted a deeper love than i have ever experienced during this time. i started my business. really, started my business. i started it in december but I didn't really know if I would ever get to see my dad again. through the fall and winter he provided for me whilst i recovered from being sick [reoccuring during fall/winter, peak in sept. same thing i felt during my journey in 2018]. how will i live as an adult on my own? provide for myself? what if he dies? i make my first 2k month. i surrender to love. i meet nature. fourteen months i called him for the first time. my dad. it was so painful to hear him speak. he was still sick. i began to slowly give grounded, healing advice. affirmations. colors. introduced the law of attraction. helping him know that his physical body was sick because his mind was sick of negativity. i move into my first apartment with my partner. its beautiful. he pays the rent. i get the entire room, he takes the living room. i was provided for. i continued my business. i held strong visions of travelling with my partner before the lease was up in august. it was my lifelong dream. i prayed for my dad and his partner. sitting in nights of fear and pain. letting go. trusting. rebuilding. health. NATURE. LOVE. date nights. park visits. lake visits. fifteen i saw my dad and his partner! in person! june 6, the first time since march 30. i went with my partner. i was nervous. i also get to see my cat ~~ who has always had siezures, that got even worse when they were sick... who i also had to let go of, not knowing if would survive.. but did! i gave him healing crystals. healing tips. love. hope. he opened. my dad whos heart was closed cracked open. i had never seen this mans heart open since i was a little child before my mom broke his heart. he left his job, you know. when i was a kid i was neglected for that job. one that i had to go to school too many times when i didn't feel because of. one that kept him gone late nights once a week. one that drained him. but the job that supported me physically and financially through my entire life. the job that helped give me a good life ~ his time and energy he gave into this job to provide for his daughter. he realized what it was doing to him. he realized, taylor. he realized. he got a new job. two hours away, a small county on the lake. a chance to start over. leave the karmic city he lived in. he also began to feel his emotions from what happened with the trauma of my mother. this was a miracle. a miracle. a miracle. and so, he would move away... starting his new job during the sixteenth month of this journey, july 13 i know at this point i will be travelling soon and leaving anyways, but could not leave my dad... and so the universe had him leave to set me free. i spent the rest of the month knowing he would move away, and likely i would too. but where? i saw him many times. gave him reiki too. we all went to the cottage together, him, his partner, me, and mine. summer solstice. peace. love. sixteen months i released all of my limitations. i chose love, abundance, freedom, health, bliss. i released my dad, my cat, my childhood home... [never grow up describes this situation]... a 21st birthday, really, a goodbye to my family... i booked a plane ticket. a month and a week to California. knowing, that it would be longer than that one month and a week. myself and my partner. one carry on and personal item. my self soverignty. my dreams. my abundance [first five figure month!!!] i left taylor. i left behind the city i always lived in to follow my dreams and passion. i'm living in my dream location. mountains. forests. lakes. a sacred site in Nor Cal. a childhood dream, if you will. a new life begins the night before i leave i see that you had an album out. folklore. i didn't know, because i had been going through so much stuff within my life that anything that happened online was not present in my life. i listened to caridgan for a few seconds. didn't feel right. i let you go...[knowing, like always, your music will come to me at the exact right time] i got on the plane. three layovers. an overnight train. i begin my new life on the mountain. begin again. seventeen months i am not the same. i have grown. i have healed. my time in the mountain has been the most groundbreaking, expansive, philisophical, healing time of my entire life. feeling like one month was twenty lifetimes of healing and growth. healing all of my childhood wounds, fears, pains. being of service in my business, providing healing for over 55 people. but... it was here where it started to break apart. that one last thing. i let go of the home. the cat. the family. the stuff. there was 1 more thing to let go of... eighteen months kyle, was his name you know. and of course, when we are hurt we go into the victim mindset right away. it is instinct. predetor and prey. it is conditioned into us. this time, after completing a cycle of 3 relationships of emotional manipulation, disrespect, not being loved the way i loved... i took full ownership for it. for manipulating MYSELF. for disrespecting MYSELF. for not loving MYSELF the way I love another. thats when the relationship healing and karma happens. when you take complete ownership for your own mistreatment knowing that this person was simply a mirror of the own hate, anger, and fear you have about yourself. it happened on september 2nd, under the full moon. it started, anyways. i was called to l.a out of Nor Cal. With him. and we Went. This is where the fun part starts, the intention behind this entire story but we're only getting to it right now because of course, I am a writer. The main message has to be supported by a story, right? on september 6th, we had a midnight train. i wanted to listen to music to help me release leaving the city i was living in in Nor Cal, cuz I had grown fairly attached to it. cardigan came into my life. [which i realize as i am writing this and listening to it, the version i have always listened to is the cabin one,... which I am just seeing you realeased on my birthday!!!! july 30th. how interesting] it fell into place this night. and i was meant to hear it now; your music has always been like a spirit guide to me. always a message when i need it. we had a midnight train. my partner got a nosebleed on the way...[stepping on the last train, marked me like a blood stain...] i knew in my heart we would be breaking up... the day before the flight to l.a, the day before the fires, i knew we would be breaking up in l.a. the night that invisable strings was introduced into my life, via my dear soul friend Emma. i knew that this song spoke of my memories and experiences with l.a. l.a was always a place for me to find self empowerment, bravery, and self worth. being the place that i endured my first break up in, l.a taught me self love. i knew that an invisable string was bringing me back to l.a, and really... back to [myself]. despite knowing what was to happen, i held myself through the flight to l.a. it's not like we officially broke up that day, but i knew going on this flight that since i was facing my biggest fears in real life that i would be about to experience my fear of being alone. i flew the day that san fransisco was orange. tiny little 13 row plane. deep fear of planes. in a moment of deep intuition and love, i opened my heart to hold space for the people on the plane that were also terrified of the fires and landing somewhere that was orange. holding people, holding space, through what could be seen on an Earthly scale as a trauma. moving past my own fears and negative thoughts and holding the emotions of love and safety. it was a big moment for me. i listened to invisable strings dyuring the plane ride. and two days later was when my fire happened. september 11 is when we officially broke up.. when i chose to stand up for myself, for my own love + respect, when i knew that i had to leave a toxic and co-dependent relationship... you know, i thought a tsunami was going to happen that day or something and i was going to die. i literally thought this was what was going to happen; but the death that happened was not physical, but the death of a relationship. we were in l.a until the 18th, in the same apartment, trying our best to go through our breakup while living with eachother. still getting groceries together [chasing shadows in the grocery line]... i could barely function. i know you know what co-dependent relationships can get like. beginning to function on your own without the love from them is hell. [cue. this is me trying] having a hard time adjusting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! letting go of this love. knowing i need to leave. we were in l.a until the 18th, in the same apartment, trying our best to go through our breakup while living with eachother. still getting groceries together [chasing shadows in the grocery line]... the ocean took me down; pulled my knee out. the day after telling my partner i need to do everything on my own and we be completely separate whilst living in this apartment together for at least a week. knowing we likely would stay till oct.my bodies way of still needing to rely on him. coping mechinisms. breakdowns. [pouring my heart out to a stranger, but i didn't pour the whiskey...] (This lyric. After my first relationship, I turned to alcohol. I got very dependent on this, and this runs in my family. It took me until a significant event at a party in 2017 for me to stop, i know you know what i mean. So it was a big deal for me, despite all temptations, to not turn to alcohol). i knew i had to leave l.a our host was offering us to stay until oct 1. i was 100% sure i was, despite living in the apartment with kyle, through breakup [not your typical i hate u breakup tho, one of deep love and mutual, conscious respect and love for eachother] going to stay. esp with how my body was, and my knee. and... if i went back home to Nor Cal, I knew i'd be going alone. And I knew my partner couldn't financially sustain himself at the time to stay anywhere other than back home. I knew he would have to quarentine for 14 days. I knew that by making this decision I would be completely cut off from him. i went to cancel our flight back to Nor Cal. 34 hours before. i was going to stay and stay in a place with a man who didn't have enough self love and worth yet to be able to love me properly. and then it happened. continue to financially support him. continue to love him uncontiionally. and then... sept 16 11:30pm the last excuse. the last invalidation. the last disrespect. the last act of hatred. the last act of emotional manipulation. the last time the gas light would ever turn on. i do not cancel my flight. i walked away. i chose myself. i messaged everybody that i knew to ask for help and support. i knew that this would be the hardest thing I ever had to do. i had to walk away from whom i know on a soul level to be my husband. i know. i know. i know. i know when we have both healed we will come back together in harmonious union; our relationship was all about growing. but it was time to grow apart, in order to grow back together with a stable individual foundation. the last day was magic. it was a new moon. santa monica beach. sunset. shopping. swimming. we allowed ourself to have a night of love. we knew that this was at the basis of our connection; true, undying, eternal, uncondtional love. we will always love each other in a deeper way than can be described in words. no painting, song, piece of poetry could describe this love. and it was painful. painful to love so deeply and openly and vulnerabily, knowing that come 6am I would be headed to the airport It was the most open and vulnerable I have ever been. Allowing myself to openly love so deeply despite knowing what was to come in just some short hours. I really poured my heart out. I opened up. I was vulnerable. I was my true self. And it was one of the best nights of my life, September 17th in Santa Monica, under the New Moon. we stayed up together all night holding each other. sharing a few last kisses. talking about our favourite memories each month of our relationship [i know they said the end was near...] we didn't sleep all night. the alarm went off, 4:50am. time to go. i packed everything the night before. i tied up my lose ends. we held eachother deeply. the final alarm went off, 5:10am. the pink sunrise in the uber on the way to the airport. the way that he didn't cancel his flight to go through security with me. not getting a coffee to spend every last second with him. and we sat in the airport and cried our hearts out. holding each other. crying. in front of anyone who cared to see. knowing one hour before boarding i had to take myself to the bathroom so that i could cry and prepare myself to fly [note: hopefully the airport worker knew we were gunna be okay] 7:48am, i knew the alarm was going to go off in two minutes. i take my power back and stand up, turning the alarm off. i said i have to go now or I will not get on the flight. i tell him he needs to walk away first. i can't do it. no. i'll feel abandoned. i have to be the one. i hugged him. one time. i said goodbye. i wished him well. i told him i love him. i put my backpack on. i get my stuff together. one last hug... one last kiss... and i pulled away. i walked away from the man that i know one day will be my husband and the father to my children to follow my own path of self discovery and worth and love. of healing. walking up to the airline worker, telling her my partner would not be coming on the flight with me. "okay, Miss, i will remove him from your party and from the flight," i held myself together. i did. the best i could. good thing i didn't sleep because that kept me at least less emotional and breaking down than i thought i would be. "now boarding flight xxxx to Sacramento, boarding rows 10-13..." i got myself on the plane. i couldn't believe i was doing this. how am i doing this? i knew when i sat in my seat and the plan began to prepare for departure, that i was completing a cycle of three. a cycle of relationship karma that began with my first, where we broke up on my birthday, 2016 in l.a... completing a cycle where i base my worth on another person, depend on another person, allow myself to get walked over... it was done. i asked that when i took off into the sky from the plane, the perfect line of the perfect song was playing... when i first had my breakup in l.a 2016, i was at a play to support my friend and actress. in this play, she sang a song called brave. this song, and message, got me through my first breakup. she was my rock and i swear the reason i made it through the night of that. l.a 2018, she wrote brave for a tattoo for me. we stopped talking for a while; i learned to be brave for myself. l.a 2020, the moment the plane takes off of the ground... [wool to BRAVE the seasons...] the moment you sang brave; the plane took off. a rush of feeling so proud for myself. knowing i chose me. knowing i chose a journey of self love. knowing i chose a journey of self worth. knowing i chose a journey of self empowerment. i sit here in my soul sister's apartment whilst she is cross-country, writing this. one week after i got back to Nor Cal. One week since my entire life shifted. And I am in the journey. The journey to self love, confidence, worth, empowerment, etc is not just a destination. There is a journey behind it all. It happens to contain a lot of crying. A lot of feeling. Some music. Friends. Good food. A warm coffee from the local coffee shop. Candles. Insence. Journal(S). Rest. Yoga. Meditation. Qigong. Reiki. Fuzzy socks. Oversized fluffy sweaters. Soft blankets. Stuffed animals. Books. Singing bowls. Love. And so, this is where I am. September 25th, seven months later. Wow. Writing this journey out and putting it on paper really makes me feel some things. It makes me feel fucking empowered. It makes me feel strong. It makes me feel brave. It makes me feel fearless. It makes me feel vulnerable. It makes me feel authentic. And with all authenticity, I had to be authentic with myself when I began to write this. Your music has been that constant. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Everything has always left my life but your music has always stayed. Your music has always found me in the right time in the right place. It has always supported me. You have always supported me. I was thinking back today, in a state of elevated joy allowing myself to feel happy that I got the opportunity to meet you through my life journey so far. And that... us meeting had to mean something. There is an invisable string there. There has to be a reason that during all of this your music was there for me. There has to be a reason it came to me in the time that it did. There is a reason for everything. So I write this, with a prayer that you will see this, but a surrender to the knowingness that what is meant to happen is going to happen. Also, a surrender to if anybody actually reads this! This is who I am, raw, vulnerable, authentic. I will always speak my truth, share my journey, and love Taylor Swift. Don't we all? Taylor, if you are reading this... from my soul to yours; thank you. thank you. thank you. seriously, for what you give up to be able to spread these messages via your music in such a global way. i completely see and understand what you have given up to do this. i love you. i love you. i love you. thank you for seeing me. thank you for hearing me. thank you for acknowledging me. thank you for validating me. thank you for loving me. see you next update, your friend Sarah.

#fortaylor #for taylor #messages to taylor #from my heart

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icannotreadcursive · 4 years

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Cats 2019, Dir. Tom Hooper

Overall Quality ⭐️1/5

Entertainment Value ⭐️1/5

Story ⭐️1/5

Visuals and Craft ⭐️⭐️2/5

There is so much potential for artistic and cinematic greatness in a modern, high budget film adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber's beloved, though admittedly peculiar, musical Cats. Tom Hooper's attempt squanders every drop of that potential. I expected it to be bad, just based on the trailer. I was prepared for it to be an unmitigated disaster. Somehow it managed to be worse that I ever imagined. It is the worst movie I have ever seen.

Cats is a very weird musical—among theatre folk it's pretty strictly a you love it or you hate it show, with some people falling in a third camp where it's not really their cup of tea and they're really not fans, but they can't help but acknowledge that the show is high quality theatre, regardless of how kitschy and odd it is. There are a lot of people, myself included, though, who love this musical. They are a built in audience of thousands, possibly millions, and they are who this movie should have been made for. The filmmakers' first mistake among many was that instead of making a Cats movie for the people who love Cats as it is, they tried to make a Cats movie for the people who don't get it and don't like it. That was an incredibly stupid decision. You're never going to bring those people around, it's a waste of time and resources to try, and the most damning thing is that all the baffling changes the filmmakers made to the musical and its story to try and make it more palatable to those who don't like the show as it exists, only serve to alienate the diehard Cats fans who should have been their strongest supporters.

Every problem in Tom Hooper's Cats comes down to gross misunderstanding of the source material and what people enjoy about it, and a shocking degree of disrespect for the show and its characters. I can comfortably call myself something of an expert on Cats in the theatre—I've seen several productions, been in one, written academic papers about the show, and the book of poetry upon which its based, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot, sits on the shelf about ten feet from me as I type this review. I do not expect anyone to have the same intensity of interest or depth of understanding for Cats as I do; it wouldn't be reasonable. But I do expect anyone making a film adaptation of anything to put effort and serious thought into their project, and to care for and appreciate the source material they're working with. No one in decision making positions on this film seems to have done that. I wouldn't be surprised if I learned that neither Tom Hooper nor screenwriter Lee Hall had ever even seen the show.

Where even to begin with all the bizarre and terrible choices that went into this dumpster fire of a film? This is going to take a while; there's a lot bad filmaking to break down on several levels.

Broad strokes, the movie completely misunderstands what the plot of the stage show actually is, then proceeds to shoehorn in new and unnecessary scenes in what I can only imagine is an attempt to make the plot make more sense. This fails spectacularly, since they're wrong in the first place about what the plot is, thus they succeed only in destroying the actual story of the show, muddying the overcomplicated and misguided narrative they've hamhandedly cobbled together, and interrupt the natural flow of what is supposed to be a sung-through musical such that the entire thing drags on like a last hour math class on Friday before school break. This is worsened by the fact that the film stops dead in the middle of musical numbers several times for the sake of uninspired, usually offensive, and extraneous gags.

To be clear, the plot of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats, as spelled out fairly explicitly by Munkustrap early in the show, is that every year, one night on the full moon, all the members of a tribe of cats called the Jellicles get together to have a big party called the Jellicle Ball, at the end of which their leader, Old Deuteronomy, selects one member of the tribe who has lived a full life and can now be reborn. Over the course of the Ball, several prominent members of the tribe get songs sung about them. The general vibe is very much big family reunion where your uncles, siblings, grandparents, and cousins tell stories about what they've been up to since you last saw them, or about how things were back in their day, depending.

The plot of Tom Hooper's Cats is that every year, one night on the full moon, a bunch of cats get together, allegedly to have a party called the Jellicle Ball, even though most of the movie they seem to be more or less aimlessly wandering the same two or three streets, and over the course of the party some of them sing songs about themselves as part of a competition to try to convince their leader, Old Deuteronomy, that they are the one she should pick to be reborn so they can come back and be “who they really want to be.” This year, it just so happens that a completely unrelated cat has been abandoned in the exact back ally where the Jellicles are hanging out before the Ball. Oh, and this year this one other cat, Macavity, has decided to kidnap all of the other cats that are competing to be chosen to be reborn, so he'll be the only contestant left and Old Deuteronomy will have to pick him.

The idea that the cats with individual songs about them are competing to be chosen to be reborn is a pretty common misunderstanding of the show, but it's one that doesn't hold up to much scrutiny. For one thing, several of the individual songs take place before Old Deuteronomy arrives at the Ball, so the songs clearly are not being presented to Deuteronomy for judgment. For another, most of the characters who have individual songs come across as quite young, only one (Gus) is elderly, and if you pay any attention to the lyrics of their songs, these cats are loving their lives. It makes no sense that they would want to die and give up the lives they are still living to their fullest. Clearly no one involved in this movie bothered to take even two seconds to think that through. As for the idea that the chosen cat comes back as “who they really want to be,” I have no idea where the filmmakers got that.

The central themes of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats are identity, community, and dignity. The film kind of, sort of keeps the theme of identity, at least as far as they kept in most of the song “The Naming of Cats,” which is about identity, sense of self, and the difference between how one is seen by others and how one sees oneself. They omit roughly half the song.

The theme of community is mostly lost, and what little of it remains is twisted strangely by the decision to make Victoria an outsider. In the stage show, all the cats are Jellicles, they are tribe, a family, and they are proud of it. Grizabella is ostracized because she left a long time ago and, it seems, abandoned the tribe. So, now that she's old and lonely and wants to come home, they don't want her back. The emotional climax of the show is when, after the iconic lament of lost youth and righteous demand to be respected as an individual that is “Memory,” Victoria reaches out and touches Grizabella, accepting her back into the tribe and recognizing her as a fellow with the first feline contact Grizabella has had the entire show. This moment is robbed entirely of its power in Tom Hooper's film, largely because all of Grizabella's agency has been taken from her and given to Victoria. Instead of Grizabella stepping up for herself and asserting that she is still a part of this community and deserves to be treated with respect, Victoria physically escorts her in and instructs her to sing. Bear in mind that in the context of the film, Victoria is not a member of the tribe, she's just been inexplicably allowed to tag along, and thus is in no position to be the one accepting Grizabella back.

When it comes to dignity, Grizabella suffers as well. Not only is she stripped of her agency, but “Memory” is turned into a melodramatic self-pitying mess. Bad directoral choices remove every bit of strength and self esteem Grizabella has, especially during that song, which is an unforgivable waste of Jennifer Hudson. Almost every other character is treated as badly, or worse.

Macavity is taken from a truly frightening and threatening—but sexy—figure of mystery and demoted to pathetic, desperate cartoon villain that I think was supposed to be funny. He wasn't funny. This was a waste of Idris Elba, an excellent actor who could have brought refreshing and terrifying depth to what is an often neglected character.

Rum Tum Tugger does not have his usual badboy rockstar jerk with a heart of gold persona, he's just an egotistical asshole.

Grizabella, Macavity, and Tugger are the only characters in the film who visually read as POC through all the CG. They are all pathetic, unlikable, or both. Intentional or not, that feels really racist.

Bombalurina loses her entire character. Instead of a lovable rogue, member of the tribe who knows a questionable amount about Macavity, which gives her her own air of mystery, she's reduced to a flat, weirdly sexualized henchman. This may in part be due to Taylor Swift being too expensive to give more screen time, so they couldn't allow the character to breathe. If that's the case, they should not have cast Taylor Swift—she's not a bad choice for the role, but she is not worth destroying the character for. She certainly hasn't helped the film so much as break even on its budget.

Gus the Theatre Cat is played by Sir Ian McKellen, who is probably the best actor alive on the planet for that role, they could not have cast anyone better, and yet they waste him as well. Gus is old, Gus is physically and mentally feeble, but—on stage—the tribe still love and respect him. In the film, he's framed as pitiable, even laughable. The ageism isn't as overt as it could have been, but it is sickening.

Bustopher Jones (James Corden) and Jennyanydots (Rebel Wilson) are treated worst of all. Both characters are usually portrayed as on the heavy side. Bustopher is directly described in his song as “remarkably fat,” and Jennyanydots tends matronly by theatre tradition. Both characters are unambiguously described as very proper and clean freaks. The filmmakers elected to ignore this characterization in favor of making them both crude, messy, food obsessed slobs, which is shockingly fatphobic.

The only characters who come out more or less unscathed are Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap. I personally do not agree with the casting of Dame Judy Dench as Old Deuteronomy, the gender flip strikes me as unnecessary and a cheap grab at woke points, but I love Dame Judy and she is a fantastic actor. She brings the grace and poise the role requires and embodies the character as well as anyone could in the middle of such a mess. For his part, Robbie Fairchild as Munkustrap benefits from neglect. The filmakers don't seem to have given Munkustrap much thought or much direction—the role is unchanged from the stage show, except, maybe in that the film doesn't allow him to be as central a character, since it's so obsessively focused on Victoria. Fairchild himself clearly studied Munkustraps in other productions. He feels like the same character, even in how he moves, while still making the role his own.

Several characters are simply deleted. Jemima is awkwardly combined with Victoria, who keeps getting other characters' agency and purpose bestowed upon her, yet isn't allowed to have her crowning moment of awesome in the White Cat Dance to herself. Demeter supposedly exists in the film, played by Daniela Norman, but gets left out of her main musical number so that Taylor Swift can hog it. Jellylorum is omitted entirely, which leaves Gus seeming both isolated and full of himself.

The visual effects are awful. Trying to make the cats look “realistic” was a horrible choice, and poorly executed. The faces are all far too human, and everyone looks uncomfortably naked. The ears and tails aren't an inherently bad idea, but the tails are too long and move too much and just wind up being creepy. Frequently, characters' feet do not look like they're in contact with the floor—Gollum in Lord of the Rings was better rendered and incorporated eighteen years ago. On the subject of feet, some cats have shoes, all of which look somehow wrong, and those that are barefoot have extremely unsettling hybrids of human feet and cat paws. Once, Victoria seems to dance en pointe barefoot on those mutant toes, which illicited in me a visceral body horror. Much of the character design is just baffling. Victoria, whose defining physical characteristic is that she is the one white cat in the tribe, is not a white cat. She has spots now for some reason. Jennyanydots takes off her skin to reveal bedazzled fur, hot pants, and a halter top underneath. Skimbleshanks looks like a rejected member of the Village People. I can't tell if Deuteronomy's fur is supposed to be her fur or a coat.

The cats are inconsistent in size with relation to the world around them, and that world is inconsistent is seeming like it's for humans or for cats played by humans.

The music from the show is great, and should have been a redeeming quality in the film, but they managed to screw that up too. Almost every song has the life drained out of it, which is not the fault of the actors, all of whom I know from their previous work to be strong enough performers to carry their roles, if only they had been directed well. I've already discussed how “Memory” was ruined. “Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer” is unrecognizable, the tune and many lyrics are changed. Despite the 1930s-ish setting, several songs have been pop-ified or hiphop-ified seemingly at random. There are weird lyric changes throughout, often taking the form of altered verb tense, that serve no discernible purpose. The film is apparently allergic to group musical numbers, so sections that are usually sung in groups get split up one line at a time, which does not work, and all the cats that have individual songs sing about themselves rather than their peers singing about them, which makes them all come across as self centered and narcissistic.

Cats is a musical usually marked by having a huge among of excellent dancing. The dancing here is all awkward and often unsettling. Additionally, the language of movement companies of actors performing cats usually exhibit that lets them read as feline is entirely lacking. Robbie Fairchild is the only one who seems to try at all. To his credit, he succeeds.

The best we can hope for this film is that it quickly fades of public memory. To the cast, I hope they at least had fun making fools of themselves. To T.S. Eliot, I'm sorry this happened. To Andrew Lloyd Webber, how did you let this happen? To Tom Hooper, your movie is bad and you should feel bad.

The worst thing about this unredeemable disaster of a film is the handful of times you can just catch a glimpse through all the bad decisions and worse CGI of how good it might have been.

#movies #movie review #eiiri reviews movies #cats #cats musical #cats movie #cats 2019 #tom hooper #cats review #long post

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anti-pasto · 4 years

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for the 200 ask thingy, i actually dare you to do all of them. :D

delgaskarthalexhere we go, anon:

200: My crush’s name is: I don’t have one right now, I don’t get them often (if I ever had a crush at all)

199: I was born in: 2003

198: I am really: A 2005 emo kid x a 2008 scene kid x a 2014 tumblr fangirl x Kyle himself

197: My cellphone company is: Apple

194: My ring size is: Honestly? No idea. Propose to me with a sword.

193: My height is: Somewhere between 5′7″ and 5′8″

192: I am allergic to: Nothing I’m aware of

191: My 1st car was: 94 Station Wagon, by request

190: My 1st job was: being this funny is a full-time gig

189: Last book you read: Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

188: My bed is: “made”

187: My pet: I have a cat, I love her very much and I will show her to you if you dm me a cursed image

186: My best friend: We don’t use “best friend” for personal reasons, but they’ve been with me since I was 5 so, my one and only Bro

185: My favorite shampoo is: anything with “silky smooth” or “strawberries” on the bottle. i’m not that picky anymore.

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox or ps4 xbox

183: Piggy banks are: really useful

182: In my pockets: wallet, keys, phone, earbuds, black pen/pencil, earplugs, mini flashlight

181: On my calendar: i’m meeting a friend for smoothies tomorrow

180: Marriage is: something we shouldn’t push so much onto people. it’s a declaration of love, not an end-all fix-all to your life. i can’t ever see myself getting married but who knows!

179: Spongebob can: continue to be a relevant meme

178: My mom: i mean. we function. i can’t really complain about my family at large but i am defiantly looking forward to living literally as far away from them as i can.

177: The last three songs I bought were? psh, you think i pay for music? (folie a deux, lake effect kid, believers never die volume two) (those are albums but its okay)

176: Last YouTube video watched: I watched Markiplier play Uno

175: How many cousins do you have? 11? 12? I lost count

174: Do you have any siblings? I have a brother

173: Are your parents divorced? Nope!

172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes, I have been for a while

171: Do you play an instrument? dude HECK yeah! i vibe on piano, guitar, ukulele, clarinet, and im a drum major

170: What did you do yesterday? I went on a drive by myself.

[ I Believe In ]

169: Love at first sight: Nope.

168: Luck: Yes, but luck is something that can be engineered

167: Fate: To an extent

166: Yourself: I’d say overall, yeah. I still have doubts tho

165: Aliens: Mmmmmm yeah

164: Heaven: Yes

163: Hell: Yes

162: God: Yeup

161: Horoscopes: without an ounce of truth, they would have died a long time ago

160: Soul mates: the greeks had seven words for love. i think we have multiple soul mates to fit each of those categories. there are definitely people we’re just meant to vibe with

159: Ghosts: i want to say yes but i really dont know

158: Gay Marriage: yes. its 2020. grow up.

157: War: in theory? no. war is kinda messed up. in reality? not everyone is going to be down to nice diplomatic conflict resolution, and not everyone is just gonna leave people *countries* they don’t like alone, so...

156: Orbs: ??? energies are real

155: Magic: vibes are real

[ This or That ]

154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs

153: Drunk or High: i am a child of jesus

152: Phone or Online: online

151: Red heads or Black haired: irdc but black hair bc i am Emo

150: Blondes or Brunettes: blonde?? ig?? easier to dye

149: Hot or cold: hot weather + cold rooms

148: Summer or winter: summer

147: Autumn or Spring: autum (screw spring)

146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

145: Night or Day: night

144: Oranges or Apples: oranges (better to share with homies)

143: Curly or Straight hair: i dont care but curly

142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonald give iced coffee

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: dark chocolate

140: Mac or PC: pc for vidgya gaemes

139: Flip flops or high heals: ...converse. please. i cant walk properly in either of those

138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor

137: Coke or Pepsi: pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama: this is kinda outdated but obama

135: Burried or cremated: cremated i aint watch spn for nothin

134: Singing or Dancing: singing. at least that gets better with practice

133: Coach or Chanel: chanel (thank u mr frank ocean and also the neighborhood)

132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: whomst

131: Small town or Big city: big city and if you say small town you’ve never lived in a small town

130: Wal-Mart or Target: target

129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: who tf is this

128: Manicure or Pedicure: idk dude probably pedicure i don’t like people touching my hands and i use them for too much to get my nails done

127: East Coast or West Coast: hnngggggggg west coast has more to do but east coast has better beaches and

126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday

125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate bc then i can give u some

124: Disney or Six Flags: ive only been to disney so disney (though i AM a HARDCORE rollercoaster stan so it wouldnt take much for me to say six flags)

123: Yankees or Red Sox: what

[ Here’s What I Think About ]

122: War: unfortunately sometimes necessary but not as a first resort i went over this already

121: George Bush: is that the shoe guy?

120: Gay Marriage: be gay. do crime. kiss wife. or husband. or partner. basically, hell yeah

119: The presidential election: america need 2 b single and focus on herself

118: Abortion: pro-choice and that choice should be made by the one carrying the baby

117: MySpace: tumblr’s dad

116: Reality TV: don’t talk to about abt this

115: Parents: disgusting. go to therapy.

114: Back stabbers: if you’re gonna stab me in the back, pull my lungs through my ribcage bc that’s what my ancestor’s ghosts are gonna do to you (thanks great (x a few times) grandma viking ily thanks for the hair:) )

113: Ebay: good for merch and selling books

112: Facebook: zuck my dick, data-theif

111: Work: i like doing work? like- i enjoy completing tasks and seeing my hard work pay off? it’s not that bad?

110: My Neighbors: old. boring. want me to babysit for free.

109: Gas Prices: i cant really complain rn they’re kinda low and im a little broke so

108: Designer Clothes: i vibe to them, honestly

107: College: not for everyone but definitely for me

106: Sports: marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport but only technically speaking though you can make fair comparisons to sports such as cheer, and gymnastics where the idea is to put on a show and receive a score in the form of competition.

105: My family: disgusting

104: The future: the future doesn’t exist

[ Last time I ]

103: Hugged someone: god, don’t ask me this

102: Last time you ate: uhhh like 9 hours ago? it was dinner and i had pizza

101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: three or four weeks ago by best bro came to visit and we vibed

100: Cried in front of someone: i finished twist and shout at school at the end of a very bad week. it was only a few tears but that’s as close as i get to crying

99: Went to a movie theater: whenever the last star wars movie came out

98: Took a vacation: last year i went to dc over summer break to see the Smithsonian, it was a lot of fun. i was supposed to go to altanta and florida this year but that didn’t happen for reasons

97: Swam in a pool: last week

96: Changed a diaper: never

95: Got my nails done: never

94: Went to a wedding: its been at least 6 years dude

93: Broke a bone: never, somehow

92: Got a peircing: nope

91: Broke the law: technically, yesterday. 55 is too slow

90: Texted: just now

[ MISC ]

89: Who makes you laugh the most: the person in my snap named “junior”

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat

87: The last movie I saw: probably into the spiderverse

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: things going back to normal. or somewhat normal. i need school to have a schedule bc i absolutely cannot force myself to function without outside influence

85: The thing im not looking forward to: ironically, school in the fall. the way we’re going back is going to wreck me more than lockdown already has

84: People call me: i only ft one of my bros and they know who tf they are if you ask to ft you’re getting fuckin blocked mate i dont do that shit video calls are for WORK and SCHOOL thats IT. but ppl call me by my nickname irl, i go by screech on here.

83: The most difficult thing to do is: listen to my parent’s political opinions? live in a small town? force myself to be productive without a physical influence and reminder? put up with that one dude?

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope

81: My zodiac sign is: scoprio/leo/gemini

80: The first person i talked to today was: the potential bassist for our potential band?

79: First time you had a crush: uhh im still not sure if it was a crush but i wanted them to myself and they wanted (and got) someone better. we were just friends so it doesn’t really matter

78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: the person on snap named “the great oracle”

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday, it was my brother

76: Right now I am talking to: in order of snap names, “vibin ~[^.^]~”, “russian umbrella”, and “mom” (not really)

75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully, a job that makes me happy

74: I have/will get a job: as soon as i know what’s going on with school. but like as an adult? wherever will hire me and pay my fairly. being a barista would be fun, but at a local place (not in my current town)

73: Tomorrow: ???? time for bad poetry: tomorrow i will see my friend/ admist this lasting chaos/ we will be each other’s solitude/ while sharing fruity drinks/ and when we both come home/ a smile we will bring

72: Today: idk what this means so more poetry: today i will be sleep deprived as always/ i will think of them and weep/ but no tears will fall from my eyes/ for i know there is a reason/ we went our own way

71: Next Summer: i fr dont know whats goin on so: next summer i will be/ as happy as can be/ because i will be in pain no longer/ the earth is sure to heal/ and i will heal with her/ so i can enjoy/ the heatwave of next summer

70: Next Weekend: next weekend i will spend/ my days wasting away/ maybe ill finish hannibal/ again/ not that serial killers make the dopamine stay/ i will not see my friends/ or talk to my family/ i will seldom eat/ and live off coffee/ this has been my life/ all quarintine/ god someone please help me

69: I have these pets: i have four cats, three chickens, and a dog

68: The worst sound in the world: my dad and grandpa talking

67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Them

66: People that make you happy: snap name time: the great oracle, junior, vibin ~[^.^]~, russian umbrella, mom, hero, booby-king 48, go to bed, son, pooper trooper, mac&cheese, plain egg biscuit, apple pie

65: Last time I cried: i dont cry bitch (last week over officals that cant make up they gottdamned mindes)

64: My friends are: my family and i would die for each and all of them

63: My computer is: an old hp but it play gaemes real good so it okie

62: My School: is trash but the band pops off

61: My Car: old, fast, clean

60: I lose all respect for people who: are my dad

59: The movie I cried at was: i cried over big hero six

58: Your hair color is: blonde

57: TV shows you watch: supernatural, good omens, hannibal, parks and rec

56: Favorite web site: this hellsite or youtube

55: Your dream vacation: out of the country with beautiful beaches, amazing food, and my best friend

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the time i split the back of my head open, the time i split my chin open, and the time my then best friend said they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. i’ll let you guess which one hurt the most and which one i think about every fucking day

53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium or medium well.

52: My room is: clean and a reflection of myself, or so i’ve been told

51: My favorite celebrity is: i do not engage in celebrity worship. ill follow them and reblog gifs/interviews but i dont really have a favorite. the less i know abt them the better.

50: Where would you like to be: my own apartment in nyc

49: Do you want children: FUCK THEM KIDS BRO

48: Ever been in love: i dont know if it was love. i dont know if it was a crush. what i do know id that i was attached and they didn’t feel the same, and why would they?

47: Who’s your best friend: we dont really use best friend bc but “the great oracle” “junior” and “vibin ~[^.^]~”

46: More guy friends or girl friends: its 50/50

45: One thing that makes you feel great is: goin fast, the beach, playin video games

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: them

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: go to college, earn degree

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: commit arson

41: Have you pre-named your children: FUCK. THEM. KIDS. BRO.

40: Last person I got mad at: they do not understand that they do not know everything about something they’re not even involved in yet

39: I would like to move to: new zealand

38: I wish I was a professional: artist? musican? youtuber? who knows

[ My Favorites ]

37: Candy: nerds

36: Vehicle: 1970 mustang gt

35: President: jfk only bc his assassination is the only good thing abt american history the rest of it is fucked up and shouldn’t have happened. also jfk’s song in assassians the musical goes hard

34: State visited: california

33: Cellphone provider: verizon? apple? idfk

32: Athlete: what is sport

31: Actor: i don't watch shows or movies

30: Actress: i do not consume media

29: Singer: alex gaskarth or alexander deleon

28: Band: fall out boy

27: Clothing store: hot topic (i will not apologize)

26: Grocery store: okay harris teeter fucks but lidil’s has aloe vera juice and target at 9 pm energy so idk man

25: TV show: supernatural...

24: Movie: big hero 6

23: Website: tumblr or youtube

22: Animal: snow leopard

21: Theme park: busch gardens bc roller coaster go fast

20: Holiday: christmas

19: Sport to watch: snowboarding bc its like skateboarding but on snow

18: Sport to play: anything with havy footwork (marching band is a sport)

17: Magazine: i do not condume media

16: Book: the ranger’s apprentice series as a whole makes up my all-time one favorite book

15: Day of the week: friday bc its game day baybey

14: Beach: cocoa beach in florida but also i have so much left to experience

13: Concert attended: i havent been to any notable gigs but i was supposed to go to hella mega

12: Thing to cook: pancakes

11: Food: pizza or shushi

10: Restaurant: chiplote

9: Radio station: i like my local rock station and my local edm/top 40 station

8: Yankee candle scent: anything smoky or vanilla idc

7: Perfume: chanel no. 5 if i even wear it

6: Flower: Hydrangea

5: Color: orange

4: Talk show host: cecil palmer

3: Comedian: john maulaney

2: Dog breed: yes

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ;)

That was a trip. But it was fun, please do things like this more often. Also, I don’t consume media by choice. I’m not sheltered I just can’t be bothered, and I have enough going on. That being said I will now be sleeping. Thanks again, Anon, I hope you have fun reading this :D

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quill-of-thoth · 5 years

Text

The Lemuria Incident

At the advice of @marmaladedtoast, I have decided that the statute of limitations has (probably) run out on telling you all the Lemuria Incident. At this time, Toast and I were running, mostly by the skin of our teeth, a college writing club. After a first year that included an unfortunate kerning incident, learning WAY too much about our then-secretary’s batman fantasies, and a miraculous lack of anyone pointing out that I didn’t know how to president, we had exactly one problem going into our first official year as a club. I’d promised to have a real published writer come in to give a talk once a year. Problem was, aside from the alumna I’d buttered up in year one after she came for another event? I didn’t know any.

Enter my lifesaving board. Toast was my vice president: her job was to keep me from making a complete fool of myself. We had a treasurer who was supposed to go to student council meetings (he didn’t) and keep track of the funds we didn’t have, and who was also more of a Leninist than a garden variety college communist. We had a public relations person, and I’m not actually sure this far after the fact what she did other than incite the other major drama of the club.

Oh, and mock the bad kerning.

Our new secretary, however, had an aunt who lived less than three hours away. I want to state up front that none of the following nonsense was, directly or indirectly, the secretary’s fault. “She’s looking into indie publishing,” said Secretary, and I emerged from my pile of chemistry homework to explain that we might be able to pay her in pizza, assuming Treasurer ever went to a student council meeting, so if she really wanted to volunteer for free...

“She wants to build an Audience.”

Fine. I had an analytical chemistry shaped hole to crawl into and die in.

The day arrived to a lot of excitement. Some of it was from me, because here was a week where someone ELSE would run my meeting and despite my increasingly bedraggled state, analytical chemistry hadn’t managed to kill me yet.

“Hello my darlings - now shut up.” (When you run a club in college, you have to address them like this, or they might notice that you’re winging it.) “We have a very special guest tonight: let’s hear it for Secretary’s aunt, Tikiphile!”

(Obviously not her real name, but we’ll get to the reasons behind the alias in a minute.)

“Tikiphile is here to talk to us about her book-” *checks notes* “Lost Island of Magic,” (again, not the actual name.)

Finally, I was able to sit down with Toast, and I had about 0.7 seconds of rest before the Lemuria Debacle truly began.

For those of you who don’t know - likely because it finally seems to have died out of the fantasy genre’s collective consciousness - Lemuria is a proposed counterpart to Atlantis, existing either in the Indian or Pacific ocean, because the ‘scientists’ who proposed it in the late 1800′s weren’t geographers and also nobody had noticed plate tectonics yet. It has since morphed in the world of fantasy writing into an “I want to write about Atlantis but that would be cliche so I wikipedia’d around” trope.

In the minds of our club (again, if you’re on tumblr, Secretary... sorry? It was funny, though.) it means a one-way flashback trip to a presentation that went something like this:

“Let’s start with a little exercise,” said Tikiphile, “I’m very good at reading people’s creative energy, so let’s get to know everyone’s genre.” She looked the board up and down. “Ah yes, you must write romance, it’s in your eyes, dear,” she said to Toast, who may be 100% aboard the shipping train but has never, to my knowledge, written the “soulful love story,” that Tikiphile implied she was working on. “You are very clearly a poet,” she said to me, and because it was college and I had not yet run out of fucks to give I didn’t tell her that we were contractually obligated to avoid poetry. Not that I’d know that muse if she bit me. “Obviously you write horror,” she said to the Treasurer, who was 1) the only man in the board 2) incapable of producing horror intentionally, preferring to create the ongoing discomfort that always accompanies a man who thinks that if he keeps dating members of a social group one of them will eventually fall in love with him.

“Mystery would suit you,” she said to the PR chair, who preferred embarking on real life espionage to actually writing.

“And of course I already know that Secretary writes fantasy.”

Toast and I exchanged a look that, at least on my end, said “It’s only an hour, we can do this, right?”

Wrong.

It became apparent within the first five minutes of a talk that included the importance of making an inspiration board - out of printed out pictures in a binder - that Lemuria, for Tikiphile, was less of an interesting setting than a vehicle for regurgitating the entire new age, partially digested, for our consumption.

She apparently believed that Lemuria and Atlantis had “some basis in truth” and that you could tell especially psychic people by their purple eyes. Nobody told her that Snopes was already on the case. But she went on to describe her main character, an “exotic” Hawaiian-but-not-really-because-hawaii-was-just-part-of-Lemuria priestess with exceptional psychic powers, purple eyes, and a quest to save Lemuria from... sinking I guess? Honestly I broke down by the time she mentioned the purple eyes.

What the fuck? I wrote on the piece of paper that I had optimistically thought I’d make notes of agents or publishers on, and passed it to Toast.

Toast did not know what the fuck. No one knew what the fuck. Except for Secretary, who was beginning to be embarrassed, and Tikiphile, who had apparently watched Twilight.

“You have to have a very clear idea of your character in your head,” Tikiphile explained, “especially if they’re the romantic interest. I’ve cast Taylor Lautner as the Lemurian warrior who my priestess main character is supposed to marry, but of course her true soulmate, the atlantean she has visions of -”

To this day, I don’t remember too many more details of the forty five minute talk beyond that it ranged from psychic visions to reincarnation to aliens to cultural appropriation and that all of my furious note passing to Toast on the topic of “what the hell,” and “This is so awkward,” and “she does know that saying that is kinda racist, right?” didn’t leave any evidence behind.

Finally, it was over, like a bad dream, or what I expect normal people’s bad dreams are like.

“Any questions?” I asked the club, which was sitting around in various stages of secondhand embarassment.

“Um, yeah,” piped up one particularly brave freshman, “I wanted to know how much of this you’ve written so far, because I always have trouble finishing my stories.”

“About ten pages,” said Tikiphile, and demonstrated the loosleaf pages in her otherwise plump binder. Readers, Writers’ Guild did not have a key speaker the next year.

#The Lemuria Debacle #to this day I still side eye purple eyes in anything #upon further reflection I think Tikiphile might have been a bit of a Mists of Avalon fan because there are some tropes in common #but there was also the 70's so...#I had to leave a rock shop before I laughed myself sick and got thrown out recently #because they were trying to pass off some plastic as lemurian quartz #No one of these tropes was inherently cringeworthy #aside from the exoticizing polynesian people #but piled together with the woo factor it was more than we could take

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kierongillen · 6 years

Text

Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine: The Funnies

Spoilers, obv.

I suspect this will lean a little shorter than usual, partially because it’s more an editorial, sitting back position than any other issue of WicDiv and partially as DIE is out tomorrow, and there’s a lot of plates I’m keeping spinning.

But let’s see, eh?

Last year, when we did the Christmas Special, doing a comedy special was the other option. We decided to keep that in the can, simply because I was trying to visualise what on earth it would be like. Would I ask people to write stuff? Would I write it all? Could I somehow get The Wicked + the Canine to fill the whole issue? We went for Jamie’s idea (which required less conceptual engineering, so was easy, despite being more actual writing work) and saved this for the end.

Which is nice. End of school party, right?

Jamie/Matt’s Cover: Jamie and I have a piece of performance twitter, where I make puns and he pretends to hate them. Okay, that’s not true at all. He hates them, as is only right, as they are designed to be hated. When we have Skype calls, and Chrissy and I sit beside each other, when I drop a pun, Chrissy makes a face which… well, Jamie’s wants to grab it as a gif. It’s quite the thing.

Anyway – a variety of responses to puns. The pun is, I suspect, the best one I’ve dropped on twitter. One day I’ll write an essay on What I Do With Puns. But not today. It didn’t get a ludicrous number of retweets when I dropped it (and deleted my whole stream, as I do sporadically – don’t worry, I store everything before I do). It had an afterlife though being reblogged on tumblr (I think last time it was about 130k interactions), used in big websites’ pun round-ups, put on T-shirts and straight up stolen and tweeted by other people.

So let’s stick it on a cover, and show the variety of responses to it. Of course, Baph would like it.

I really like what Matt did with the colours here as well.

Margaux Saltel’s cover: Margaux is great. I got to know her distantly when C was editing superfreaks, and actually got a chance to hang properly at this year’s thought bubble. She’s got a real playfulness to her art, which this fascinating design sense. Adorable big dog staring at the reader was the first thing I thought of when planning this issue, really.

IFC

Intro page to explain what’s going on, with pop-comic design by Sergio, headlines courtesy of C. If you haven’t read it, give it a scan, because I big up all our collaborators.

How did we decide how to ask? Far too many options. Our comic friends are very funny. We tended to ask people as it occurred to us, see how many pages they wanted to do, and then work out how many pages we had left

The Wicked + the Canine

I lured Erica into this by basically promising her to draw six pages of as many dogs as she liked. Write for your artist.

The pun was basically to amuse Chrissy, and grew into a story. I thought it could be longer (and it could have) but realised it’s best to cut it short – the backbone of Ananke as trainer, and the dogs as untrainable pups, is basically the core of it. Plus the big kick in seeing everyone done in dog form.

I threw some ideas into the mix of how the dogs could be differentiated (For example, Sakhmet as a cat and Woden as clearly-not-a-puppy in a cone of shame) but really left it to Erica to draw whatever dogs she liked. I actually suggested they all be Labradors, but Erica wanted to stretch and play, and it’s all wonderful. The worry is in terms of race-coding the dogs, which is something we avoided.

I think my favourite is Baphopup.

The white-background and “get in the sack” is a wonderful bit of cartooning. How the lack of background stresses it all.

That it was basically done to make C laugh means that it’s part of a history of my dog based comics, which also includes the Christmas issue of Journey Into Mystery, where Loki has to give away seven hell-hounds. I think Thori is the character I co-created for the Marvel Universe who has had the longest life in terms of being used by other people. Adorable sweary murderous puppies can’t go wrong.

I’m pleased that people seemed to like it. That it’s a six page story where the joke is “Evil old lady doesn’t throw trusting pups in the river” is not exactly family comedy special material. I suspect if you’ve stuck along with WicDiv this far, you know what we’re like.

This is also a story which implicitly spoils the book, in terms of Ananke being a shameless manipulator of the pups. A lot of the stories are similar, which means this is a comic designed for relief of those who came along for all the issues.

The Wicker + the Divine Lizz Lunney is one of my favourite British cartoonists, and whole fierce scowl has petrified me for the decade or so I’ve known her. Lunney hadn’t read much of WicDiv before, so we lobbed her the PDFs, and found something fun to mock in terms of how ludicrously call-back-y we are.

Go support her stuff. She’s great.

The Lost God

Chip’s just a phenomenon, and his rising career across the last decade has been basically the most delightful surprise in the period. Immediately I have to swallow the urge to do the usual “Because he’s rubbish” chip-baiting joke, which says a lot. Chip is so much fun. That he’s both one of Marvel’s biggest, most interesting writers now and half of one of the most popular and definitive indie comics of the period is something else. Like, he’d be a legend if only for his internet jokes. That’s a footnote now. Amazing.

Anyway – we meet the first Kieron and Jamie version. Chip’s one is delightful – the over-tortured pun is on the money, but the real joy is Jamie McKelvie’s Hellboy-esque hyper-developed single arm. Every time I look at that, I laugh. Plus the accent. Marvelous.

“Wossat?! Time paste this nob, innit?” is just poetry.

Gentle Annie Vs The World

Talking about poetry…

Chrissy is WicDiv’s editor and also a poet, and has done some indie comics before – as well as co-editing the anthology Over The Line, which is an introduction to Poetry Comics. This isn’t that. This is her just channelling her loathing of Gentle Annie’s obfuscatory nonsense, and I love it so.

Clayton and Dee step in on the art duties. It was Clayton’s idea to drop in the Scott Pilgrim parody Annie at the top, which is very cute, and implicitly shows the modes he can work on. The realism of each scene, and the sense of place is great. Also, the Banshees poster in the doctor’s office is hilarious.

Making A Difference

This is fun. Romesh is a proper famous comedian, and digs WicDiv, so thought it’d be fun to write for the medium. As his script was coming together, I thought of Julia Madrigal’s Giant Days issue, and realised it’d fit well. She had to do it on her trip to Japan, which involved some hilarious jetlag.

Dee’s doing some powerhouse things here with the purple-white lighting too. That’s hyper-strong.

“Fresh Prince of Baal Air” is a hell of a line, in passing, and I think this may have the prize for the darkest punchline of the whole issue.

5 Things Everyone Who’s Lived With Sakhmet Will Understand

I loved Hamish’ Pantheon, which is a playful but entirely accurate retelling of Egyptian myth. Hamish also won this year’s Russ Manning Promising Newcomer Award, so clearly should be doing something else rather than being talked into playing around with us lot. Thankfully, he didn’t.

I think my favourite moment is Persephone’s glance up as Sakhmet walks across the keyboard.

18 Go Made In Wiltshire

Kitty and Larisa have done a bunch of stuff, but I have to put a special plug for where I first met them – TAYLOR SWIFT GIRL DETECTIVE: SECRETS OF THE STARBUCK LOVERS. It’s illustrated prose, and utterly delightful, so was honoured to have them along.

This is all an accurate and extensive skewering of what we’re doing, with a not-perfect Scooby Doo mash-up. I did try to talk them out of including all the characters, as that’s so much work, but they could not be stopped. This meant that working out speaking orders was the main formal issue to worry about.

Now, there’s lots of mockery of me in this issue, but reducing Laura down to “Everyone is so hot! Let’s make out with them!” was absolutely the I Feel Called Out Right Now moment. She’s more than that, right? Right?

While the “WicDiv is a scooby do plot” complete with “Evil old man reveal” is lots of fun, the bit which makes me laugh every time I flick through is the “I would have got away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling ki—” “Oh, fuck off.” Oh, Lucifer, Never change.

Enquiring Minds Want To Know: What’s Your Guilty Pleasure Song

Cover-artist Margaux joined by the irrepressible Kate Leth. I’m really into how the two play together – Kate wanted to cut things tight, and the “Short moment” illustrated with Margaux’s warmth is fascinating. Like, have the two other Norns ever looked more delighted and engaged than they are at the end of page six?

In terms of Kieron and Jamie baiting, Grumpy Jamie in full Captain Marvel Gear and me trying to write an essay in any given space is fun and mean (which is how we like it). And I’ve just realised that writing more about this script would only be underlining Kate’s point, so I better stop.

Secret Origin

I wrote it, and offered it to Jamie. Really, the point of the specials is to create a space in the schedule so Jamie can get ahead, but he couldn’t resist this one. It’s cathartic closure, at the least.

Choosing the puns was tricky – I realised it had to be a chain, so chose this one which amused Katie West, which was tweeted when visiting them in Edinburgh. So I was in range of punching.

As always, this is Jamie expression masterclass, and a little self-mocking of my tendency to go full clockwork in my story universes is fun. I hope so anyway.

28 pages of comics, which is quite the thing. I don’t suspect we’ll be making much (if any) money from this issue after paying everyone, but that’s fine. It’s a party, innit?

Oh, it was nearly 2000 words. It’s never short, is it? It’s never short.

WicDIv 40 is out tomorrow (December 5th), which starts our final arc, “Okay.” Hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for reading.

#WicDiv #the wicked and the divine #writer notes

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taylor13spain-blog · 6 years

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My story. Please read and share

Please reblog this I really want @taylorswift to see this.

My name is Jaime, I'm 16 and for the last 2 years I've had a mental disorder called high functioning depression. It all started with this girl. I was madly in love with her however she didn't feel the same way about me. But she was smarter than I was and she didn't waste the chance. For years, she lied to me. She made me believe that she loved me back. I was so in love that I couldn't see what she was doing. She made me pay for whatever she wanted and if I refused to do so, as my family is not specially rich and we spend almost all our money in my education and my brother's , she would start yelling at me, saying how I didn't love her enough and how she would leave me. This went on for years. But then, 2 years ago she moved to Belgium. That's when my depression started. At the time I already knew she was toxic for me and that I was better off without her but something inside me refused to let her go. I texted her and phoned her a lot, usually without getting any response. As time went by, my sadness and anxiety became bigger. I hated my life so much that I would spend hours planning my suicide and at some point I even tried to end my own life twice.

My social life wasn't doing any better. I almost never went out anymore and I lost some friends. I felt so alone and misunderstood. I never talked about my condition to anyone, not even to my closet friends. Knowing them as I do, I was pretty sure they would laugh at me. At school I didn't talk much to anyone anymore and spent most of the time writing poems or reading.

I've always liked poetry and litterature in general. In fact, that was probably the only thing that kept me from actually killing myself. My books were the only friends who understood me and were always there for me. That love for poetry is what introduced me to Taylor.

I once was in my room. The radio was on and Blank Space started playing. I had listened to that song before, when I was younger, but I never gave it any importance. For some reason I can't quite explain (Sometimes I think God made me do it) , I decided to go to YouTube and look for Taylor Swift videos. There I first listened to the Red album. After Red I listened to Speak Now, and then all others. I listened to them again and again. And I realised that I wasn't alone. That there were other people in the world who had been betrayed by the person they loved the most. That there were other people who had been played with and fooled. The fact that I wasn't the only one who felt that kind of pain made me feel better. I wasn't alone anymore. I had music now. Taylor's music. Her poetry. Her beautiful gift to the world. And for what she did for me, and for so many other people in the world, I can only say:

Thank you Taylor, for curing my depression. Thank you for making me feel understood and loved again. Thank you. I love you. I wish I could meet you some day so I could thank you for all this personally and so I can hug you like your music hug me when I needed it the most.

Today, my depression is mostly gone, my social life has improved a lot and I have a beautiful girlfriend who really loves me and aprecciates me.

I love you, Taylor Swift. You made me happy again. You made my life worth living.

You saved me.

(That's me pretending to know how to dance and sing although I obviously don't)

#Taylor Swift #taylor swift #taylornation #depression #mental illness #taylurking #Speak Now #Red #1989 #reputation

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shortqueershakespeare · 3 years

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ask set number 2

for u anon, thank u for showing consistent interest.

‘taylor swift’ album asks

tim mcgraw: what song would you like to be associated with?

candlelight by relient k

picture to burn: are you a good driver? wlw, don’t even lie.

good god no

teardrops on my guitar: tell us something interesting you often think about at night.

something interesting? I often write poetry when I’m trying to fall asleep which is probably the most interesting things but I also go through the states of america in alphbetical order to try and fall asleep lol.

a place in this world: where on earth do you feel most at home?

In my bed or on the sofa in the kitchen at my dad’s.

cold as you: do you enjoy the rain or wish it away?

Both, but I actually love going for a walk in the rain as long as i’m not going anywhere.

the outside: tag someone you have a friend crush on.

@oneoveroneisone

tied together with a smile: you see a penny on the ground, heads up. do you pick it up? do you believe it’s lucky? do you pocket it or spend it?

I probably wouldn’t pay attention to it tbh.

stay beautiful: what do you picture in your mind to make you feel better on a rainy day?

Sitting in a warm corner with hot chocolate reading a book.

should’ve said no: what are your thoughts on cheating? can it be forgiven?

i think it’s really hard to make blanket judgements on stuff like this, i think in general cheating is shit, but obviously nothing is black and white and there are situations where it can be forgiven but i think it also depends on if you have the same definition of cheating as someone else. I think that’s definitely something you have to agree on in a relationship or it can lead to crossed wires.

mary’s song (oh my my my): did you have a childhood best friend (romantic or not)? if so, tell us about them and describe a happy memory you two shared.

Let’s go with Horatio, as kids we shared an obsession with rabbits and used to bring in our toy rabbits to play with and I remember him buying me one for my birthday, it was very cute and I still have the bunny somewhere.

our song: without giving a name, post a song you’d like to dedicate to someone.

Rocket Man - Elton John.

i’m only me when i’m with you: tag some friends that mean a lot to you.

I actually don’t have many tumblr friends!

invisible: name your top 3 celebrity crushes

Liv Hewson, Andrew Scott, Ben Platt.

perfectly good heart: briefly explain your first love (the experience, not them as a person).

Falling in love for the first time was just how it’s described, a whirlwind, throwing yourself headfirst into love for another person. I’m lucky that my first love stuck around for three years - after all, you only get your first love once. It was a good love to have.

teardrops on my guitar (pop version): what would you wish for if you spotted a shooting star?

Motivation.

evermore asks

1. willow 🌿 whats a song you can't get out of your head?

Sword from the Stone - Passenger.

2. champagne problems 🥂 what's something that's troubling you right now?

I really need a bath tbh.

3. gold rush 🥇 what makes you feel insecure in a relationship or friendship?

Being told they aren’t interested in something I’m saying.

4. tis the damn season 🎄 what's your favorite holiday tradition?

All my family being in one place.

5. tolerate it 🎨 what makes you feel loved and celebrated?

Using masc terms to describe me, giving me casual masc compliments.

6. no body, no crime 🛥 what's your relationship with your best friend like?

An absolute mess because that’s what we both are but I love her to pieces.

7. happiness 😊 what makes you feel happy?

My family, my friends, sunlight, sunsets, snow, a nice cup of tea.

8. dorothea 🛻 what's your favorite thing or memory about your hometown?

Most of my memories that aren’t tied to v specific locations like school/theatre/tennis club are just memories of me walking places, and I love that because I’ve walked all over my city from when I was little to now and it’s nice to have that coherence, listening to playlists through the years, walking from school to home and walking to meet my first boyfriend, walking home after taking care of my grandma, walking around the downs with a drink at sunset, walking through the city with my friends, getting to experience the city on my own terms.

9. coney island 🎡 where's somewhere that you go to reflect and think? what made you choose there?

I generally like reflecting at nighttime, in this flat it’s either my bed/windowsill or the little corner with two chairs in the living room. I like to walk around outside so those places are the closest I can get to being outdoors. At home I walk around my garden or lie under the apple trees and look at the stars.

10. ivy 🍃 have you ever had an affair or dated multiple people at once without them knowing?

Not an affair no, and not dated multiple people without them knowing.

11. cowboy like me 🤠 what do you pride yourself on? what qualities do you love most about yourself?

I’m compassionate and forgiving and fiercely loving. I’m pragmatic and efficient when I need to be.

12. long story short 👠 what's one thing you wish everyone knew about you?

I guess how hard I’ve fought against depression, because from the outside it often looks like I’m lazy but I’m really trying.

13. marjorie 🧑‍🦳 what's one lesson you learned from a loved one who has passed?

To work hard and practically - how to build stuff and be self-sufficient.

14. closure ✉ do you have a situation that requires closure? what would you to say to gain closure, if you could?

Yeah I think so. I’d say I wish I’d never let it happen a second time but I’m grateful that it pushed me to the breakup. I felt wanted by you but after that I felt used and like you never actually gave a shit about me and I’m sorry that we lost our friendship. I hope you’re okay and I hope you did actually care about me.

15. evermore 🌊 what helps you hold onto hope when you're going through hard times?

The knowledge that I’ve got through this before and that it’s not going to be forever.

16. right where you left me ⌛ if you had to spend a year in one place, where would it be?

Cambridge or Vienna. If we’re talking spending a year in a specific moment, it’s a choice of three, drinking on a dog walk with Hannah in the pouring rain and coming home to dad standing there with dinner ready and towels for us to get dry, halloween of this year with my friends in Vienna, or my last glitterbomb pres, drinks and laughter and stories from when we were sixteen.

17. it's time to go 🕒 where do you most want to travel to when this pandemic is over?

Home. Other than that I’d honestly like to just come back to Vienna.

#personal #personal post #personal posts #ask game #ask games #anons #answering questions

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chill-that-ur-inmyhead · 4 years

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do you like to shoot pool?: i used to have a pool table and it was fun playing it

are you any good?: eh haven’t played in a while

what is the scariest movie you ever saw?: coraline killed me, only because I saw it when I was young and it scared me when thinking if she’d ever make it back to her real family

the funniest?: funniest movie is difficult, wedding crashers probably, I love it and can have a good laugh at that movie

the saddest?: titanic

do you daydream?: yep all day everyday

do you dream at night?: yep

do you remember them? Care to share?: usually about what is going on in my life, not difficult to decipher

when you’re sick, do you like to be pampered, or left alone?: left alone, no one can see me in that weak state

who’s the better actor, jack nicholson or anthony hopkins?: anthony hopkins - hannibal was scary

are you superstitious?: eh not really

how many pictures are in your wallet?: zero

do you like getting pictures taken?: of me? eh depends how I feel on the day

if someone cries while watching a sad movie..do you laugh at them?: no not laugh

how often do you change your sheets?: once a week

is you bedroom upstairs or down?: upstairs

is it true blood is thicker than water?: yes

if you could wish someone out of your life ..who would it be?: at the moment I’m all good, if you’d ask me that a couple of years ago I would have said one of my flatmates ahah

if you could be with anyone in the world, famous or not who would it be?: be with like in a relationship? either k j apa or timothee chalamet, but physically be with, taylor swift, I just wanna know how she is doing!!

are you high maintenance?: I have my moments but I try to reel them in

if you could change one thing in the world what would it be?: the amount of hatred people can have

if you could star in any tv show which would it be?: riverdale for sure, I think the cast just has a lot of fun with each other and that is cute

deliveryman at your door who’s the package from?: probably asos

if you could completely change who you are would you?: wouldn’t mind increasing my bank balance but other than that it’s a work in progress

if you could live in a fairytale which would it be?: little mermaid

if you could live in the past where would it be?: apparently the 90s were a fun time, I would love to have experience the late 19th century or even earlier maybe 18th century

if you could see only one person right now who would it be?: brooke! I miss her

do you wear shoes in the house?: sliders

do you dream in colour or black and white?: who remembers those kind of things haha

what is your favorite accent?: french

do you like sunsets or sunrises?: I am not up early enough to catch a sunrise but I think they can be quiet enchanting and peaceful so maybe sunrise

what age did you find out santa wasn’t real?: hmmm I guess it was around 8 or 9 deffo by age 12

do you write poetry/songs/stories?: only daydreams but I don’t write them down... maybe I should

do you wear socks with sandals?: with my sliders yes

would you marry for money?: depends how much and who it is, let me way up my options haha

do you have any “in the mood” music you like to listen to?: haha usually I just let the guy pick

would you vote for a woman president?: I can’t vote for a president, but if she was the right one sure

Are looks/appearances really important?: they’re important but not everything

what are you most looking forward to?: the day I get a job and can tell my family and friends the good news

if someone lied to you and came clean is that forgivable?: depends what they lie about and how much I care, e.g someone lies about their fav colour.... whatever haha

if you had to repeat a day over and over again..what day would you pick?: my 21st birthday I spent the weekend in Paris and I would want to repeat the day over and over again x100000 because there is so much to do in Paris and I didn’t have nearly enough time

When you die, do you want to be cremated or buried? cremated

Did/do you like high school? I have fond memories Do you like to play video games? not really

Do you like Final Fantasy? Which one do you prefer of all? don’t know it

Have you ever caught on fire? nope, I keep my cool hehe

Do you have a YouTube channel? nope

Do you ever go to video game arcades? nah

Do you care what people think of you? I guess so

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? hmmmm no

Do you like Lady Gaga? yep she’s cool

Don’t you hate when your foot falls asleep? yes

Do you think you have been in love before? in the moment yes but it wasn’t meant to last

Do you write poetry? nope

Do you like Edgar Allan Poe? no feelings either way

Have you ever met anyone famous? If so, who? nope

Have you ever gotten hit on by some creeper? yeah,

Do you watch LifeTime? i do not

Do you bless random people when they sneeze? if I’m with someone I’m not paying attention to random people and if I’m alone I am listening to music so I don’t really get the chance

Do you have a short temper? depends what the topic is

Do you like Sarah Dessen? who?

Do you want to have children? If so, how many? 3

Have you ever had a yard sale? yes

Do you go to Barnes and Noble for books, the library or someplace else? usually amazon but my friend works at waterstones and can get a 50% discount so now I go to her haha

Do you have an iPad? yes

Are you scared to die? sometimes I have intrusive thoughts about what happens next but it isn’t often

Do you go to church every Sunday? nope, used to but then it got boring

Have you ever called one of those Hot Line numbers? nope

Do you think you draw well? no way

Have you ever wanted to be a meteorologist? nope

Do you like Taylor Swift? LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!

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