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captaindodson · 3 years

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Being High-School Sweethearts with Officer Slater would include...

A/N: I’ve been on a Bill Hader deep dive and I have fallen for our guy Officer Slater from Superbad. I will credit @fangirl-imagines with most of the inspiration for this and future works involving our favourite officer. I got a bit carried away with this one so I hope you enjoy!

Paring: Officer Slater x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluffy and a bit of angst

Being High-School Sweet Hearts with Officer Slater would include...

- Now this is a little bit different then what you might think so just hold onto your hats.

- I feel you you guys would have met in your senior year through a group project in second period history. Your class wasn’t always so well behaved so your teacher ended up splitting everyone up into groups.

- You and Slater never directly interacted before but you have mutuals friends between each other. So when the teacher told everyone to stand up and meet in their groups it was still a bit awkward. You shuffled across the classroom to your partners who decided to sit in the back corner of the class sitting in silence while the rest of the class got organized.

- The teacher comes around to hand out the instructions for the assignment, sliding a double sided piece of paper onto the desks in front of everyone. You, of course wanting to elevate the awkwardness goes ahead and introduces yourself to everyone and starts reading out the instructions on the paper.

- While you read aloud Slater was sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye. What you do not realize is that Slater has been meaning to make any sort of move since he saw you in freshman year.

- On the first day of school you were wearing beautiful baby blue jeans, a white, slight worn out MTV t-shirt, some tennis shoes, and maroon bag, and Slater thought he had seen heaven as he watched you get off the bus and towards the high school. He proceeded to see you everywhere in school (not that he would complain) whether it be in the library, school cafeteria, sitting on the bleachers as he walked by with his friends. Everyday for three years he would always look for you, even just for a second because it brightened his day.

- He never approached you because he felt that you were out of his league. You were in the popular crowd but, you didn’t partake in sports or cheerleading or anything sterotypical popular kids would do. You were a floater, a confident, kind, (did I say beautiful yet) floater that everyone wanted to be around. You had friends in just about every cliche there could be except his.

- His friends always gave him shit (but also support) and tried to embarrass Slater in front of you knowing of his major crush. One time, during a school football game his friends spotted some empty seats on the far end of the bleachers but, also noticed you sitting in-between their walk to their seats. So, when they squeezed past you they jabbed Slater’s side to make him squirm to drop some of his popcorn on your lap.

- His face became red with embarrassment but you just laugh lightly and say thank you for the snack. Slater just smiles nervously and pushes his friends to hurry up as they laughed loudly.

- Or another time during the year when the schools drama club was doing their last performance before heading out of state for NYC for a competition, and Slater and his friends were going to go to shit on the drama kids. When they got to the theatre, you were siting by yourself next to the only empty seat, so they came up with a new plan. They told Slater to go find them some seats and when he spotted the only empty seat next to you and he panicked. He turned around to confront his friends but they all left smiling and laughing silently.

- He pondered whether he should leave or stay until he thought this was going to be the opportunity to finally introduce himself to you and have you fall in love with him. Except, as he walked closer, his throat starting closing up and he felt at a loss of words. So when he had to squeeze past you he squeaked out a quick, “excuse me” and sat down. The lights of the theatre dimmed and he proceeded to sit through 90 minutes of Hamlet and didn’t say a word to you. He basked in the scent of your perfume as the play continued on and after the final bows you left unaware of Slater next to you.

- So after reading the assignment aloud the bell rings almost instantly causing everyone to collect their things and rush out the door. Slater watched you collect your bag and wave goodbye to the group to head off to your next class. Slater sat there for a minute deciding what to do, make his move or continue to admire you painfully from afar until you disappear from his life forever?

- He sighed in defeat and was willing to live in this hell for the rest of the school year. He sluggishly gets up, head hung in defeat, and heads out the door. What he didn’t expect was you leaning on some lockers outside the door and greeting him with with a shy smile before asking him if he wanted to eat lunch with you later to go over the assignment. (at first he didn’t say yes due to shyness, but then quickly changed his answer because he would have been kicking himself if he didn't).

- You had noticed him staring, and to be quite frankly you’ve been watching him too. You had seen him in the library reading comic books in the farthest row, pushing up his glasses when he read, looking out the window in French class and seeing him and his friends messing around on the football field during free period. For a guy that most girls that you knew considered him scrawny and ‘unattractive’ you could not disagree any faster. You loved his floppy, shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his dimples, and most importantly his laugh. You saw how he was with his friends and you just wanted him to look at you.

- So after that moment you two started spending more and more time together. You would stop hanging out with most of your friends to eat lunch with Slater in a stairwell or out of the bleachers. You two would read StarWars comic’s in the library while trying to prank his friends, you also had dates at the local theatre, and you were Slater’s first kiss. You both couldn’t be happier. Everything so pure, so innocent about young love, nothing could take that away. Except one thing, insecurity.

- As graduation came closer Slater suddenly became more distant and cold. You tried to ask why but he just shut down and then out of the blue he broke up with you. You cried for days, wondering what you could’ve done different, what you did wrong, but you were never given an answer. You left LA shortly after for NYC and Slater had to sit with his choice but eventually got over it.

- It isn’t until 2007 rolls around when your back in LA working as a waitress in a bar called Baileys which so happens one night to have a special visitor.

- When Slater was sitting at the bar where he met his ex-wife with Micheal’s and McLovin, having fun watching the security tape from earlier, a woman comes up next to him and leans up against the bar.

- A much older women whose beauty from high school has not wavered is asking the bartender for the time and if it is okay for you to clock out of your shift and go home for the night.

- Slater stares, almost frozen in time and watches your lips move in slow motion. Just like when he was staring at you all those years ago in that history class, the love he felt for you makes his heart beat a little bit faster and cheeks become a little bit warmer.

- You don’t even notice the staring as you’ve grown to ignore the stares of guys. You smile at your boss when he tells you can leave. You rip off your small apron and run around the bar into the backroom to get your stuff. When you leave the backroom with a thin coat over your shoulders and your purse in hand, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar pair of ocean eyes hidden behind sliver glasses and a police uniform.

- Your breath hitches for a moment but you keep walking. You walk through the messy kitchen to leave out the back door which leads to the street where your car is parked.

- Slater just stares at the kitchen door blankly, watching as his heart continued to beat faster as the memories of being told how he grabbed your heart and ran it over with his shitty car resurface. He knows he doesn’t deserve a second chance, but he can’t live knowing that you don’t know he’s sorry, so he dashes after you to the surprise of Micheal’s and Mclovin.

- You just make it to the drivers side of your car when you hear a stern, “wait”. You pause and think for a minute. You haven’t done anything wrong so it is not like he can force you to stay here. You stab your key into your car door and just as your ready to turn it and open up your door this voice lets out a more masculine “hold it right there”.

- You halt your movements and slowly turn around the face the man you haven't seen since he broke your heart. Under the streetlight he is much taller than he was all those years ago and his boyish charms still haven't wavered even though he attempts to make himself look taller and more ‘manly’.

- You speak before he can open his mouth to say anything else, ‘I don't know who you are, but can you please leave me alone.”

- Slater cringes slightly at your tone. He lets his body rest in a more comfortable posture and he puts his hands up in a defensive pose.��

- “ Okay, I deserve that. But before you leave let me say this, I left you because I got scared and I’m sorry. I thought you’d be better off without some loser attached to your arm when there are a millions of guys much better looking and more manly”. Your eyes soften at his claim as you approach him slowly and his arms drop to his side.

- “Slater, You were the best thing in that shitty high school. I only left because I could not live in a place where you existed because I would be reminded of the pain of you not being in my life. I loved you ever since I met you, and I never stopped. Why didn’t you talk to me Slater?” You say with pleading eyes.

“I didn't know how to. Ever since my first wife turned out to be a whore I realized that I could never love anyone again because I didn’t deserve to be loved. When I spotted you inside, it felt like my heart was about the burst. When you left for NYC I thought I got over you, but I never did”.

- Slater’s breath slows as you get closer, he can start to feel the heat radiating off your body. He looks at you with the same awe, admiration, and love he did all those years ago. Blue eyes twinkling under the shine of the streetlight through his sliver glasses.

- Slater breaks the silence with, “You can hate me for the rest of your life, just know that I’m sorry-”.

- But before Slater can get your name through his lips you lean up without warning to plant a soft kiss on his which he gladly returns.

- “Take notes Mclovin, Slater is showing you how to kiss a lady.” you both break apart and see Micheal’s, smirk on his face and Mclovin standing along side him looking confused.

- Slater straightens up with his shoulders with a deep cough trying to appear composed, but the pink tint on his cheeks say otherwise. You ignore the new presence and you drag your hand over his uniformed shoulder to the back of his soft hair where you gentle push his head to meet your lips once more.

#bill hader imagine #bill hader x reader #Superbad imagine #Superbad fanfic #Bill hader fanfic #Officer Slater x reader #Officer Slater imagine #Officer Slater fanfic #Officer Slater x F! reader #Officer Slater headcannon #officer slater #bill hader #dodson writing

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entracteofevil · 3 years

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Round Table Discussion with the Cover Illustrators

Entr’acte of Evil, page 142-145

--First, everyone please introduce yourselves.

Ichika: I’ve been responsible for the first cover and the illustrations for the series. My name is Ichika.

Suzunosuke: I am Suzunosuke. I normally just draw what I want to. I was able to make the cover for the second book.

You: I am You, and I was charged with the cover for this book. I’m really nervous, but I look forward to being able to do this interview with you.

--When did you all first start making illustrations?

Ichika: Since I could first remember. I don’t recall it all that clearly, but by the time I was in first year I was already drawing.

Suzunosuke: I think it was about middleschool. Apparently when I was a kid my parents were consulted by my teachers on the fact that I couldn’t actually draw pictures.

--You couldn’t draw pictures?

Suzunosuke: Even when I was made to stay behind by myself in kindergarten, the only things I drew were like little pictures of flowers on my drawing paper. It wasn’t that I was sick or anything like that, I was just a normal kid who couldn’t draw.

--I see, that’s very unexpected. What about you, You-san?

You: I don’t clearly remember when I first started drawing as a hobby, but my first picture was when I was three years old, and was a portrait of my caregiver in nursery. Back then I always wanted to use every color of crayon I had, and I guess the fact that I’m still always using rainbow colors even now just goes to show that what you learn in the cradle you carry to the grave.

Suzunosuke: I think that’s cool.

--Incidentally, when did you start making pictures related to VOCALOID?

Ichika: I think around 2007…maybe? I remember the first time I drew Miku was after listening to Yuuyu-P’s “White Season”.

Suzunosuke: I don’t remember how many years ago it was, but I feel like the first thing I drew was Kurousa-P’s “Cantarella”.

You: I listened to VOCALOID the first time in the winter of 2007, so I think it was probably around that time.

--So then, when was the first time you encountered AkunoP’s work?

Ichika: It was right after “Daughter of Evil” was posted on Piapro. I had just finished up making a PV, and when I was looking for new content on Piapro I got drawn in by the title and started listening to it.

Suzunosuke: The “Servant of Evil” was on NicoNico Douga’s rankings, and when I opened up the PV it had a tag saying to watch it after “Daughter of Evil”, so I watched them in order of “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” for the first time.

You: Like Suzunosuke-san, probably in the autumn of 2008. The “Daughter of Evil” had a lot of buzz when it was first uploaded! I saw it in so many places with Ichika-san’s illustrations~ It feels so strange to see it having taken this form so many years later.

--Suzunosuke-san and You-san, this was the first time you’d seen a song that used Ichika-san’s illustrations, wasn’t it?

Ichika: I’m sorry for being alive…

Suzunosuke: Sorry, haha

You: Hey, hahaha

Ichika: I’m honestly really shaking here, haha

Suzunosuke: Maybe we should reply with “You’re a very wonderful person” ha ha.

-(Laughs) So what was everyone’s thoughts on the work when they saw “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”?

Ichika: I think the imagery in it was really easy to get emotional about. I also thought it was a really interesting concept that although “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil” had a really different feel to them, they still felt like part of the same story.

Suzunosuke: All else aside I thought it was really sad, and I kept getting stuck on the fact that Allen couldn’t be saved. Still, it was because it was such a sad story that I was captivated by it. It also really made me feel the potential of the VOCALOID genre. It’s a derivative work, but also original content.

You: At the time I had thought it was really interesting and unusual to make a work with such dark fantasy elements using VOCALOID. I also really liked how catchy the tune was. It was also really impressive with all the derivative songs and fanart that got uploaded as things went on. I think it’s a work that shouldered a main pillar of the VOCALOID community in its heyday. And it’s really cool that it’s continuing to spread around the world even now.

--What image do you get of its creator, AkunoP?

Suzunosuke: Given he’s got “Akuno” (of evil) in his name, I thought he might be a scary person.

Ichika: Generally the people who do DTM have a kind of science-y image, so there’s that. And when we actually met, I remember he was a lot like that image. Though he was a bit thinner than I had imagined. Maybe if Akuno-san had shown up to our first meeting with his sunglasses look I’d answer that his image was different, haha.

You: Before I met him offline…He made a lot of romantic-type works, so I actually wondered if maybe he was a woman. When we actually met, it was apparently right after he’d changed his look, so I was a little amused to see him wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses.

--Have you all met AkunoP-san wearing sunglasses?

Suzunosuke: I actually just brushed him off because I didn’t know who he was for a second. As a fan the way he is now is probably close to his image as AkunoP, I would think.

Ichika: I also brushed him off.

You: Everybody brushed him off!

--Well that was an unexpected outcome, haha. Next, do you have a favorite AkunoP work?

Ichika: I actually really like “Clockwork Lullaby”. I prefer the quietly compelling melody and lyrics. Aside from that, I remember when I listened to “Daughter of Evil” I was really drawn to it, wondering what other kind of work he’d done, so that left a significant impression.

Suzunosuke: I think that might be “Re_Birthday”. The flow of sin and rebirth is so painfully beautiful, and I always get misty-eyed no matter how many times I listen to it.

You: Like Suzunosuke-san, I like “Re_Birthday”. I really love the music, and as for the story of it I think it’s really great it has that theme of salvation.

--I see. I had thought that Suzunosuke-san might say “Lunacy of Duke Venomania”, so that was surprising.

Suzunosuke: I could also say “Lunacy of Duke Venomania”, but I don’t want people to think I’m someone who likes erotic content, haha. But that’s also another song that I really like.

About the Novel Illustrations

--How did you feel when you heard about the “Daughter of Evil” becoming a novel?

Ichika: I was simply surprised.

Suzunosuke: I thought it was awesome.

You: I thought it was awesome for Akuno-san. I thought there must have been so many fan’s voices there, and that kind of invisible strength was deeply moving.

--Ichika-san, in the first book you did the cover illustration as well as the ones in the book itself—What was something that was hard about that?

Ichika: I’d have to say highlights.

--Highlights…! Certainly you had to do quite the interaction there… Honestly, was there any point where you were like, “I hope these editors step in dog crap”? haha

Ichika: Nah, ‘cause ever since I’ve become able to put in highlights more seriously, so I’d say it was good practice, haha.

--Suzunosuke-san, you were asked to do the cover for the second book; how was it when they approached you for that?

Suzunosuke: I had thought for sure that they were going to have me just do a pinup on the inside of the book, so then I was kind of like, “Now what?” The others who’ve been involved in it are such amazing illustrators, so I wondered if I’d be good enough for it.

--Was there anything you had trouble with?

Suzunosuke: Drawing the two of them to be just adorable was a little hard.

--I understand you had a bit of revision going on…?

Suzunosuke: Oh no, I saw that as being good training in a lot of ways, so even now it’s a good memory for me.

--You-san, you’ve been asked to do a lot of color illustrations each time, and in this guidebook you were entrusted with the cover illustration. How did you feel after finishing your work?

You: I really like doing the pinups, and I’ll generally paint them as I like, but I dealt with the cover with some different feelings in mind. As a fan I thought that Ichika-san would be given preference for sure. And I’ve refined on my composition a bit looking over past work. I wanted to emulate the flow of things up to now, so like Suzunosuke-san’s work I made it very horizontal.

--Who are some characters that were fun for you to draw in this novel series?

Ichika: All the characters are fun to draw, but if you’re gonna make me choose I’d say Elluka…I had this sense of security while drawing her, like it wasn’t an issue if I made her look a little bit like a villain.

Suzunosuke: I’ve only drawn two characters, so that would be the harmonius Clarith and Michaela. That pair so really cute, so I like them a lot.

--Suzunosuke-san, are there any characters that you would like to draw?

Suzunosuke: I love old man figures, so I’m a bit intrigued by Leonhart. Though I know that’s probably not what you were looking for, haha.

Ichika: (after half a second) It is!

Suzunosuke: Yay, haha

--You-san, you’ve probably drawn all of the main characters at this point; are there any that you’re fond of?

You: Everyone’s fun with how cute they are. I think Riliane-chan is really precious with how her hair is done up. And then there’s the princely Kyle-san—for some reason I’m always grinning when I draw him.

--Please tell us the impressions you were left with as the story has developed.

Ichika: I wasn’t expecting the romantic love between Michaela and Clarith, so that surprised me a bit.

Suzunosuke: I was actually really surprised that the base for Michaela and Gumillia’s appearances were those characters in those other songs.

You: I was also surprised at Michaela and Clarith. I felt the books complemented the content that wasn’t expanded on in the songs, which made them have a lot of interesting points. I think it’s also pretty great that I can now listen to the songs with a fresh perspective.

--Conclusively, how do you think the story will develop in the third book?

Ichika: I think Kyle’s mom is gonna be the final boss.

Suzunosuke: Hmm, I think all of the countries might get wrapped up in the fires of war. All the preliminary announcements have a pretty foreboding feeling to them.

You: All will go according to the will of god (AkunoP).

--Please let us know any final thoughts you have.

Ichika: Thanks for having me here. I don’t know yet how the third book is going to go, but I look forward to being able to go through the novels again with you.

Suzunosuke: I’d be really happy if I could be with you on the sidelines. This interview has been great!

You: I’m really happy to be linked to this series and involved in the work in this way. Thank you very much!

--Thank you very much for joining us everyone!

directory

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popculty · 3 years

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52 Films by Women: 2020 Edition

Another annual challenge complete!

Last year, I focused on diversifying my list. This year I kept that intention but focused on watching more non-American films and films from the 20th century. Specifically, I sought out Agnès Varda’s entire filmography, after her death in 2019. (I was not disappointed - What a filmmaking legend we lost.)

I also kept a film log for the first time and have included some of my thoughts on several films from that log. I made a point of including reviews both positive and negative, because I think it’s important to acknowledge the variability and breadth of the canon, so as not to put every film directed by a woman on a pedestal. (Although movies directed by women must clear a much higher bar to be greenlit, meaning generally higher quality...But that’s an essay for another day :)

* = directed by a woman of color

bold = fave

1. The Rhythm Section (2020) dir. Reed Morano - Not as good as it could have been, given Morano’s proven skill behind the camera, but also not nearly as bad as the critics made it out to be. And unbelievably refreshing to see a female revenge story not driven by sexual assault or the loss of a husband/child.

2. Cléo de 5 à 7 (1962) dir. Agnès Varda - If you ever wanted to take a real-time tour of Paris circa 1960, this is the film for you.

3. Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig - Still my favorite Little Women adaptation. I will re-watch it every year and cry.

4. Varda by Agnès (2019) dir. Agnès Varda & Didier Rouget

5. Booksmart (2019) dir. Olivia Wilde - An instant classic high school comedy romp that subverts all the gross tropes of its 1980s predecessors.

6. Girls of the Sun (2018) dir. Eva Husson

7. Blue My Mind (2017) dir. Lisa Brühlmann

8. Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma - Believe the hype. This film is a master thesis on the female gaze, and also just really effing gorgeous.

9. Belle Epine (2010) dir. Rebecca Zlotowski

10. Vamps (2012) dir. Amy Heckerling - With Krysten Ritter and Alicia Silverstone as modern-day vampires, I was so ready for this movie. But it feels like a bad stage play or a sit-com that’s missing a laugh-track. Bummer.

11. *Birds of Prey (2020) dir. Cathy Yan - Where has this movie been all our lives?? Skip the next onslaught of Snyder-verse grim-darkery and give me two more of these STAT!

12. She’s Missing (2019) dir. Alexandra McGuinness

13. The Mustang (2019) dir. Laure de Clermont-Tonnere - Trigger warning for the “protagonist” repeatedly punching a horse in the chest. I noped right out of there.

14. Monster (2003) dir. Patty Jenkins – I first watched this movie when I was probably too young and haven’t revisited it since. The rape scene traumatized me as a kid, but as an adult I appreciate how that trauma is not the center of the movie, or even of Aileen’s life. Everyone still talks about how Charlize “went ugly” for this role, but the biggest transformation here isn’t aesthetic, it’s physical – the way Theron replicates Wuernos’ mannerisms, way of speaking, and physicality. That’s why she won the Oscar. I also love that Jenkins calls the film “Monster” (which everyone labels Aileen), but then actually uses it to tell the story of how she fell in love with a woman when she was at her lowest, and that saved her. That’s kind of beautiful, and I’m glad I re-watched it so that I could see the story in that light, instead of the general memory I had of it being a good, feel-bad movie. It’s so much more than that.

15. Water Lilies (2007) dir. Céline Sciamma – Sciamma’s screenwriting and directorial debut, the first in her trilogy on youth, is as painfully beautiful as its sequels (Tomboy and Girlhood). It’s also one of the rare films that explores the overlap of queerness and girl friendships.

16. The Trouble with Angels (1966) dir. Ida Lupino – Movies about shenanigan-based female friendships are such rare delights. Rosalind Russel is divine as Mother Superior, and Hayley Mills as “scathingly brilliant” as the pranks she plays on her. Ida Lupino’s skill as an editor only enhances her directing, providing some truly iconic visual gags to complement dialogue snappy enough for Gilmore Girls.

17. Vagabond (1985) dir. Agnès Varda – Shot with a haunting realism, this film has no qualms about its heroine’s inevitable, unceremonious death, which it opens with, matter-of-factly, before retracing her final (literal) steps to the road-side ditch she ends up in. (I’m partly convinced said heroine was the inspiration for Sarah Manning in Orphan Black.)

18. One Sings, The Other Doesn’t (1977) dir. Agnès Varda – Probably my favorite classic Varda, this film feels incredibly personal. It’s essentially a love story about two best friends with very different lives. For an indie made in the ‘70s, the diversity, scope, and themes of the film are impressive. Even if the second half a drags a bit, the first half is absolute perfection, engaging the viewer immediately, and clipping along, sprinkling in some great original songs that were way progressive for their time (about abortion, female bodily autonomy, etc) and could still be considered “bangers” today.

19. Emma (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde

20. Black Panthers (1969) dir. Agnès Varda

21. Into the Forest (2016) dir. Patricia Rozema - When the world was ending (i.e. the pandemic hit) this was the first movie I turned to - a quiet, meditative story of two sisters (Elliot Page and Evan Rachel Wood) surviving off the land after a sudden global blackout. Four years later, it’s still one of my favorite book-to-screen adaptations. I fondly remember speaking with director Patricia Rozema at the 2016 Chicago Critics Film Festival after a screening, her love for the source material and desire to “get it right” so apparent. I assured her then, and reaffirm now, that she really did.

22. City of Trees (2019) dir. Alexandra Swarens

23. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020) dir. Eliza Hittmann - To call this a harrowing and deeply personal journey of a sixteen-year-old who must cross state lines to get an abortion would be accurate, but incomplete. It is a story so much bigger than that, about the myriad ways women’s bodies and boundaries are constantly violated.

24. Paradise Hills (2019) dir. Alice Waddington

25. *Eve’s Bayou (1996) dir. Kasi Lemmons – I’ve been meaning to watch Kasi Lemmons’ directorial debut for many years now, and I’m so glad I finally have, because it fully deserves its icon status, beyond being one of the first major films directed by a black woman. Baby Jurnee Smollett's talent was immediately recognizable, and she has reminded us of it in Birds of Prey and Lovecraft Country this year. If merit was genuinely a factor for Oscar contenders, she would have taken home gold at eleven years old. Beasts of the Southern Wild has been one of my all-time favorites, but now I realize that most of my appreciation for that movie actually goes to Lemmons for blazing the trail with her story of a young black girl from the bayou first. It’s also a surprisingly dark story about memory and abuse and familial relationships that cross lines - really gutsy and surprising themes, especially for the ‘90s.

26. Blow the Man Down (2019) dir. Bridget Savage Cole & Danielle Krudy - Come and get your sea shanty fix!

27. Touchy Feely (2013) dir. Lynn Shelton - R.I.P. :(

28. Hannah Gadsby: Douglas (2020) dir. Madeleine Parry - If you thought Gadsby couldn’t follow up 2018′s sensational Nanette with a comedy special just as sharp and hilarious, you would have been sorely mistaken.

29. Girlhood (2013) dir. Céline Sciamma

30. Breathe (2014) dir. Mélanie Laurent

31. *A Dry White Season (1989) dir. Euzhan Palcy

32. Laggies (2014) dir. Lynn Shelton

33. *The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood – Everything I’ve ever wanted in an action movie: Immortal gays, Charlize Theron wielding a labrys (battle axe), kinetic fight choreography I haven’t seen since the last Bond movie…Watched it twice, then devoured the comics it was adapted from, and I gotta say: in the hands of black women, it eclipses the source material. Cannot wait for the just-announced sequel.

34. Morvern Callar (2002) dir. Lynn Ramsay

35. Shirley (2020) dir. Josephine Decker

36. *Radioactive (2019) dir. Marjane Satrapi – The story is obviously well worth telling and the narrative structure – weaving in the future consequences of Curie’s discoveries – is clever, but a bit awkwardly executed and overly manipulative. There are glimpses of real brilliance throughout, but it feels as if the director’s vision was not fully realized, to my great disappointment. Nonetheless, I appreciated seeing Marie Curie's story being told by a female director and embodied by the always wonderful Rosamund Pike.

37. *The Half of It (2020) dir. Alice Wu - I feel like a real scrooge for saying this, but this movie did nothing for me. Nothing about it felt fresh, authentic or relatable. A real disappointment from the filmmaker behind the wlw classic Saving Face.

38. Mouthpiece (2018) dir. Patricia Rozema - I am absolutely floored. One of those films that makes you fall in love with the art form all over again. Patricia Rozema continues to prove herself one of the most creatively ambitious and insightful directors of our time, with this melancholic meditation on maternal grief and a woman’s duality.

39. Summerland (2020) dir. Jessica Swale - The rare period wlw love story that is not a) all-white or b) tragedy porn. Just lovely.

40. *The Last Thing He Wanted (2020) dir. Dee Rees – As rumored, a mess. Even by the end, I still couldn’t tell you who any of the characters are. Dee, we know you’re so much better than this! (see: Mudbound, Pariah)

41. *Cuties (2020) dir. Maïmouna Doucouré – I watched this film to 1) support a black woman director who has been getting death threats for her work and 2) see what all the fuss is about. While I do think there were possibly some directorial choices that could have saved quite a bit of the pearl-clutching, overall, I didn’t find it overly-exploitative or gross, as many (who obviously haven’t actually watched the film) have labeled it. It certainly does give me pause, though, and makes me wonder whether children can ever be put in front of a camera without it exploiting or causing harm to them in some way. It also makes one consider the blurry line between being a critique versus being an example. File this one under complicated, for sure.

42. A Call to Spy (2019) Lydia Dean Pilcher – An incredible true story of female spies during WWII that perfectly satisfied my itch for British period drama/spy thriller and taught me so much herstory I didn’t know.

43. Kajillionaire (2020) dir. Miranda July - I was lucky enough to attend the (virtual) premiere of this film, followed by an insightful cast/director Q&A, which only made me appreciate it more. July's offbeat dark comedy about a family of con artists is queerer and more heartfelt than it has any right to be, and a needed reprieve in a year of almost entirely white wlw stories. The family's shenanigans are the hook, but it's the budding relationship between Old Dolio (an almost unrecognizable Evan Rachel Wood) and aspiring grifter Melanie (the luminous Gina Rodriguez) that is the heart of the story.

44. Misbehaviour (2020) dir. Philippa Lowthorpe – Again, teaching me herstory I didn’t know, about how the Women’s Liberation Movement stormed the 1970 Miss World Pageant. Keira Knightley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s characters have a conversation in a bathroom at the end of the film that perfectly eviscerates well-meaning yet ignorant white feminism, without ever pitting women against each other - a feat I didn’t think was possible. I also didn’t think it was possible to critique the male gaze without showing it (*ahem Cuties, Bombshell, etc*), but this again, invents a way to do it. Bless women directors.

45. *All In: The Fight for Democracy (2020) dir. Liz Garbus and Lisa Cortes – 2020’s 13th. Thank god for Stacey Abrams, that is all.

46. *The 40-Year-Old Version (2020) dir. Radha Blank – This scene right here? I felt that in my soul. This whole film is so good and funny and heartfelt and relatable to any artist trying to walk that tightrope of “making it” while not selling their soul to make it. My only initial semi-note was that it’s a little long, but after hearing Radha Blank talk about how she fought for the two-hour run-time as a way of reclaiming space for older black women, I take it back. She’s right: Let black women take up space. Let her movie be as long as she wants it to be. GOOD FOR HER.

47. Happiest Season (2020) dir. Clea Duvall - Hoooo boy. What was marketed as the first lesbian Christmas rom-com is actually a horror movie for anyone who’s ever had to come out. Throw in casual racism and a toxic relationship treated as otp, and it’s YIKES on so many levels. Aubrey Plaza, Dan Levy, and an autistic-coded Jane are the only (underused) highlights.

48. *Monkey Beach (2020) dir. Loretta Todd

49. *Little Chief (2020) dir. Erica Tremblay – A short film part of the 2020 Red Nation Film Festival, it’s a perfect eleven minutes that I wish had gone on longer, if only to bask in Lily Gladstone in a leading role.

50. First Cow (2019) dir. Kelly Reichardt – I know Kelly Reichardt’s style, so I’ll admit-- even as I was preparing for an excellent film, I was also reaching for my phone, planning on only half paying attention during all the inevitable 30-second shots of grass blowing in the wind. (And yes, there are plenty of those.) But twenty minutes in, my phone was set aside and forgotten, as I am getting sucked into this beautiful story about two frontiersman trying to live their best domestic life.There is only one word to describe this film and that is: PURE. I’ve never seen such a tender platonic relationship between men on screen before, and it’s not lost on me that it took a woman to show us that tenderness. Reichardt gives us two men brought together by fate, and kept together by a shared dream and the simple pleasure of not being alone in such a hard world; two men who spend their days cooking, trapping, baking, and dreaming of a better life; two men who don’t say much, but feel everything for each other. The world would be a much better place if men showed us this kind of vulnerability and friendship toward each other. Oh, and it’s also a brutal take-down of capitalism and the myth of the American Dream!

51. Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) dir. Patty Jenkins - My most-anticipated film for the past two years was...well, a mixed bag, to say the least. Too many thoughts on it for a blog post, so stay tuned for the upcoming podcast ep where we go all in ;)

52. *Selah and the Spades (2019) dir. Tayarisha Poe

I hope this gives you some ideas to kick off your new year with a resolution to support more female directors!

What were your favorite women-directed movies of last year? Let me know in the tags, comments, or asks!

#finally finished this #52 films by women #2020 #writing #movies #movie reviews #orig

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bellaslilpapercut · 3 years

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Eclipse reread part 3 bewr bewr bewrrr! Covering the entire rest of the book in ONE post so buckle on in baybee:

1. Absolutely everything about chapter 15 (wager) is disgusting. To a certain extent I appreciate how successfully meyer captures how frustrating assault is as a woman, how futile it feels to fight against it. But at the same time the way she handles the aftermath is unbelievably disappointing and infuriating. Charlie doesn't get up to help his own daughter, Jake trails after Bella into the house and sticks around, there's just no relief or reflection that feels satisfying. Bella can ask where the justice is when she finds out Jake isn't aging but just ignores Charlie defending her assailant? And to some extent I get it, I've shut down after assault before to the point where it took years to recognize that some of the things that happened even were assault. But when there's a pattern within the series of men being narratively rewarded for assault and abuse and women being punished for reacting to abuse it feels like the narrative is reinforcing the status quo of women<men. I'm not stupid, I understand when a book is trying to make me uncomfortable and I don't need villains to be punished to know that they're villainous. This doesn't come across that way at all. Meyers handling of misogynistic abuse and violence lack the nuance to make me believe that she sees this violence as something to be critical of rather than something that just happens to women. And again, because it's a pattern in her writing, women getting no reprieve from gendered harm, I don't believe she's making a statement. There's just no self awareness and that's the key difference between a story like Brave New World or Lolita and Twilight.

2. Also this quote that precedes the assault is just so so frustrating:

Bella is not mean for setting boundaries! She isn't stringing you along! I would love to hit meyer in the head with a rolled up newspaper. Anyway.

3. Bella keeps saying things like "this would be annoying if it weren't so scary" in regards to having her clothes stolen by vampires that want her dead and having to lie to people around her, again because dozens of vampires want her dead. And y'know after the third time she said she would be annoyed if she weren't scared I'm just left to believe she isn't scared at all. I don't feel rising tension, the newborn army feels like a minor nuisance and even after they connect it to victoria (who still hasn't shown up at all) I'm just like...okay well get on with it then! Meyer makes bella "shudder" (I'm still tempted to make a comp of every time she shudders in this fucking book lol) instead of showing us her actual fear. I don't believe she's scared, I don't care about the "threat," and I don't believe anything bad will happen to Bella. There are Literally No Stakes here. I'm not invested in this story at all.

4. Alice is a bad friend lmfao

Girl, you're psychic you know she wanted to wear red why are you just dressing her up for your brother.

5. Okay returning to point 3 because I read chapter 17 and had an epiphany: Bella says she isn't scared for herself and I get that I do. But smeyer also hasn't shown us that she's selfless- just that she doesn't care if she dies. If bella actually cared for her human friends, in any way, I would believe that the newborn army was a scary threat because the people she loves might get hurt. But I don't believe that she cares about that I only believe that she- like Edward- has a weird martyr complex.

6. The Mirror chapter also reinforces this. I can’t stop thinking about how much more impactful it would have been narratively if it had been Angela in Bree’s position (because she’s the only human friend Bella seems fond of but if Bella showed interest in any of the other humans, honestly any of them would do). Imagine the moment where the newborn vampire first lifts her head to look into Bella’s eyes and it’s someone she knows. Someone she cares for. There should have been consequences for Bella beyond “Jake got some bones broken and now I feel bad :(” which was also a shitty punishment because smeyer is inflicting physical trauma on an indigenous character just to make Bella feel bad. Okay. Anyway, it would have built the tension I was missing for- quite literally- over 300 pages of this book if Bella’s friends and classmates and Fork’s residents had been going missing the whole time. Suddenly, at the end of the battle, there’s Angela. Or Jess. Or Katie fucking Marshall. Someone Bella knew should have been there and maybe I would have cared about this book at all.

7. Going back in time to this quote which comes before the battle:

UGH!!! SHUT UP SMEYER! She literally poisoned Jake’s character from the moment she made him a main character and she has zero self reflection to see the damage that she’s causing here. I’ve said before that I don’t think Jake’s actions were a romantic deal breaker and that stands out now more than ever after reading Eclipse. THIS is the moment that Bella realizes she’s in love with Jake too. Smeyer not only sees abuse and aggression as romantic, she also lacks the braincells and reflection to see that she’s playing directly into racist stereotypes. Edward got to grow up- marginally- but Jake had to remain aggressive. I still don’t think she ever once meant to villify Jake- I think that there was no way in a hell a racist woman could ever successfully portray an indigenous character. His tenderness is tainted by the aggression she forces on his character and in the end he never had a chance because- again- he was being written by a racist woman with fucked up views of indigenous people.

8. Okay, I get it. They’re like Cathy and Heathcliff. Fine. I buy it.

This isn’t even the last time she compares them to Cathy and Heathcliff. Kate Bush isn’t gonna write a song about you, meyer! Give it a rest! (Also lol at “like wuthering heights”)

9. Jumping right to the end here because to be completely honest the only actual event in the entire book was the newborn battle. Jane was a bitch, fine. Edward talked at Victoria and bored her to death (presumably) and the action never felt very action heavy. I knew if from the “best friend (and werewolf)” line that this book was presumably written for idiots given how little is left to the imagination at any given time. I can’t stand when books treat the audience like dummies and I especially can’t handle YA books that do this. Teenagers aren’t stupid!! Young adults can pick up on subtlety in literature!! AND young adults can handle suspense and action. smeyer doesn’t do either well and the editors never once said “hey you know teens aren’t stupid right? like your audience will pick up on hints that you scatter you don’t have to forcefully explain everything?”

10. Smeyer can’t stop interrupting herself even in the very last sentence of the book proper:

What, pray tell, is wrong with “Where it would stay for the rest of eternity.” Why did you have to sow doubt in the sentiment right after Bella made her For Real Final Decision???? And why the em-dash!? Again: the editors of the twilight saga are my nemeses but also my favorite conmen. What were they paid for?

11. Back to the editors real quick: if i was given a draft of eclipse I would instantly say: this story is almost 400 pages of nothing, you need to play with the structure of the story. You need to build suspense and if that means playing with POV like you randomly start doing in the epilogue, then do that. Or you can play with the plot. Nothing happens for 300 pages. It takes 300 pages to get to the newborn battle and nothing that happens before the newborn battle makes me feel worried about it. Again, kill off some humans, raise the stakes, do SOMETHING. This was so painfully slow to read because meyer tried to center this book on a love triangle that I didn’t even believe in myself. And even then, it took 14 chapters for the love triangle to get real action (as in an Event, not necessarily physical action).

12. The epilogue. Oh man. Was the r-slur really so acceptable in 2007 that not one single editor questioned its use? I won’t type the quote in full but Jake refers to his fake arm sling as r-word. Like??? What? And THEN smeyer has him call Leah a “bitter harpy.” Shut up.

In conclusion, nothing felt like a bigger waste of time than Eclipse. Genuinely, to be completely honest. Two (2) important things happened, at least in Bella’s narrative (I agree with Vinelle that the Volturi debacle was important from Carlisle’s perspective, it adds nothing to Bellas and Bella learns nothing important from it.): 1. Bella made a decision, she chose Edward. Who could have seen that coming? Whaaaat? 2. Rosalie told Bella her backstory. Not that Bella even used that to reflect on her decision to become a vampire but hey, at least it felt like an important moment. Jasper’s backstory only mattered for the newborn battle which didn’t matter at all (and it never informed his character and no one ever brings up that the confederacy was a terrible dark stain on US history (along with the rest of US history but that’s a full dissertation or two on its own)). I can’t imagine a way to improve this book as a standalone book. You could split up the plot (using that term loosely) so that New Moon and BD are both a little longer and BD a little more organized. But without completely changing the plot beats in Eclipse, its just pointless.

#eclipse reread #saga reread #long post #very very long sorry lolol

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annikasafternoonread · 3 years

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An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (by Hank Green) -- Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part 2 of the intro post for An Absolutely Remarkable Thing: Annika-has-feelings-about-Hank-Green-and-celebrity-culture edition. This post is less focused on the book itself and more just exploring general themes and ideas; you can find the post that looks more at the book specifically here.

So. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing is one of the coolest and most detailed explorations of celebrity that I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience. And it really is a pleasure. Not always fun, but so so good. It makes sense that Hank Green would have insights into that sphere of things, as someone who, well, started out as a normal (if comfortably wealthy) guy and then suddenly found himself accidentally skyrocketed into fame from making some fun videos. He was lucky, in that he was able to harness that attention and power and become stable and successful in his newfound role as an internet creator. But he was also lucky in that he had the right mindset or support systems or such to realize what he had, and the possibilities and drawbacks and responsibilities it came with.

Hank very much has a unique view into this, for several reasons. First of all, he was quite early to online fame -- VlogBrothers was started in 2007, and took off later that same year. For reference, YouTube itself was only two years old at that point; it started in 2005. So in the almost 15 years since, Hank has had the opportunity to see a lot of different stories play out among creators -- to see them explode in popularity and then fuck up spectacularly, or see them grow steadily and then burn out painfully, or see them take their fans for granted or even take advantage of them. Occasionally everything goes right, but it’s hard, and honestly it’s kind of rare. It’s hard to handle that kind of attention and numbers and power, hard to remain kind and humble and open, hard to listen to criticism without letting it break you and to not step too far out of line before you know better.

But another advantage he had was -- he was old. Not old-old, of course, but he was 27 when VlogBrothers exploded. When so many celebrities popping up these days (especially through social media) are teenagers, or early twenties at the oldest, 27 feels ancient. It meant that he had already lived in the world, already knew who he was and who he wanted to be, already had a strong self-image and strong values. And he had a strong support system around him through his family and friends -- including, of course, his co-VlogBrother, John Green. Having the responsibility and power of their work shared between them likely made a huge difference, as everything they did wasn’t just about one of them but about their shared brand, and they realized that and respected it and each other.

They recognized the power they wielded. They knew how easy it could be to misuse. They were very conscious of their status as role models. They cared about their community and their relationship with it. And there have been times where things were messy, where they made mistakes or said things they shouldn’t have or were mixed up in someone else’s mess. But they’ve always listened and apologized and learned and changed when they needed to. They’ve always encouraged kindness and compassion and hope and education, trying to provide it and nurture it in others around them. Hank has also talked about how he often reaches out to creators who he has heard rumours about or has concerns that they may be on the edge of abusing their power, to try to explain to them what that could mean and who they could hurt -- and hopefully to make them aware and cautious of those potential harms before things go too far.

Fame can be dangerous. That might or might not seem profound, but it’s very true, and it’s not talked about a lot. When I see famous people -- especially young people -- acting selfish or foolish or hubristic or uncaringly, yeah it makes me angry sometimes, but it also makes me sad. Because, think about it -- if you were 13 years old, and suddenly the world was laid in front of you... if you had more money than you could ever imagine, access to anything or anyone you wanted, if no one ever told you no and you had no one to keep you grounded... you’d probably get lost too. Think of how many child stars have flamed out, have lost themselves in subtances or had mental health crises or turned cruel and uncaring to the people around them or even their fans. It’s still a problem, to be sure, but the path from point A to point B is pretty clear. And I feel bad for those kids, who lost their way, who weren’t protected.

Social media has also had a huge impact on this stuff, of course. It’s so much easier for things to happen so much faster -- someone is nobody one day, and then the next day the world knows their name. It also means celebrities feel more accessible to their fans, and we often know a lot more about their personal or day-to-day lives. But sometimes fans can feel entitled to this information, or to the attention of the people they follow. It’s also easier for someone to say something offhand, without really thinking about it, and for that error to spread around the world in seconds. And you know as well as I do that internet culture is Not Great at accepting apologies or giving second chances. This also comes into play with how social media is almost a repository for all the dumb shit we said before we knew any better, and the internet loves digging up five year old mistakes that don’t represent someone now. I’m not excusing saying those kinds of things, and I don’t really have the patience to tease out the nuance of how “cancel culture” as a concept has been corrupted and twisted and used for a wild variety of things, but suffice to say there’s a lot of range between concepts like “I’m no longer buying work from an author because they turned out to be a ranging transphobe” and “anyone who likes this person’s music is terrible because the artist used a word they shouldn’t have five years ago when they were fourteen” and “this person got fired for discriminating against queer people” and “I’m not going to family Thanksgiving because none of my relatives are vaccinated and I have a heart condition.”

I’m starting to lose track of what I’m saying, so I’m going to wrap it up here. TL;DR is that Hank Green is super smart and has really unique insights into and experience with internet and celebrity culture, and I love seeing his takes on those concepts through this book. It’s a fantastic book, with complex and important ideas and themes but also a truly captivating story, and the story and the themes feed and nourish and grow each other so well. It’s just great.

I can’t wait to get started... but probably on Monday. I hope. Maybe Tuesday.

#annika reads #An Absolutely Remarkable Thing #Hank Green #book intro #bookshelf

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

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Brian May Exclusive Enterview: Queen, Debauchery and Freddie Mercury (May 21, 2017)

Originally from The Times (which you have to pay to read) but found on SpearHead News (who republished the whole thing for free and I love them for it). Not sure if people had seen it much before but Rock Dad Brian May is v sweet, and the spearhead link has images attached.

Tragedy, debauchery … and dwarves — the guitarist Brian May gives Krissi Murison an access-all-areas account of his life with Freddie Mercury and rock’s most flamboyant band. by The Sunday Times

Brian May does a great Freddie Mercury impression. He leans forward in his chair, clasps his hands together conspiratorially and channels the high-speed, staccato delivery of the greatest showman of the late 20th century: “ ‘I had an idea … you know Michael Jackson did this album and it’s called Bad?’ Yeah, Fred. ‘Well, the album we’re making, we could call it Good.’ ”

May laughs. “He would always knock you sideways. Sometimes it was great and sometimes it wasn’t.”

The visitors to Freddie’s dressing room started to change from hot chicks to hot men. It didn’t matter to us — why should it?

May, the guitarist in Queen since their 1970 inception, remembers when Mercury finally announced to him that he was gay, “years after it was obvious”. “In the beginning, the band lived on a shoestring. We couldn’t afford individual hotel rooms, so I would share a room with Freddie … There isn’t a lot I don’t know about Freddie and what he got up to in those days — which was not men, I have to tell you. It was fairly obvious when the visitors to Freddie’s dressing room started to change from hot chicks to hot men. It didn’t matter to us, why should it? But Freddie had this habit of saying, ‘Well, I suppose you realise this, that or the other,’ in this very offhand way, and he did say at some point, ‘I suppose you realise I’ve changed in my private life?’

“And years later, he said, ‘I suppose you realise that I’m dealing with this illness.’ Of course, we all knew [he had Aids], but we didn’t want to. He said, ‘You probably gather that I’m dealing with this thing and I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want our lives to change, but that’s the situation.’ And then he would move on.”

Dredging through old memories has been the subject of May’s latest project: a compilation book of his personal collection of 3D photos from his time striding around the globe during Queen’s heady reign of stadium-rock supremacy. The accompanying words mark the first time any member of Queen has written about their experiences in the band.

It is harrowing to read of Freddie’s final days and the devastating effect the HIV virus took on his body before he died in late 1991. “The problem,” May writes, “was actually his foot, and tragically there was very little left of it. Once, he showed it to us at dinner. And he said, ‘Oh Brian, I’m sorry I’ve upset you by showing you that.’ And I said, ‘I’m not upset, Freddie, except to realise you have to put up with all this terrible pain.’ ”

Equally hard is May’s belief that the “magic cocktail” of drugs that has since stopped Aids becoming a death sentence was discovered just too late to save Freddie.

“He missed by just a few months,” May sighs. “If it had been a bit later he would still have been with us, I’m sure. It’s very …” he breaks off sadly. “Hmmm. You can’t do ‘what if’ can you? You can’t go there because therein lies madness.”

Brian May on his Queen picture book and Freddie Mercury

Honestly, I had expected to meet a sanctimonious old git. May has been dubbed “the world’s grumpiest rock star” thanks to his online blog, Brian’s Soapbox, on which he posts pious rants about politics, the press, badger culls and animal rights. There are flashes of the same hectoring tone in the book. But it must be a mean trick of the typing, because in real life he seems a terribly gentle and pleasant soul.

I meet him in Windlesham, Surrey, in the vast pile where he has his offices. The bookshelves are lined with antique cameras and 19th-century volumes of Punch. In the middle of the room is a female mannequin wearing a sweeping Victorian crinoline skirt — another of May’s esoteric interests.

He wanders in wearing clogs, gardening trousers and a woven red jacket, almost as arresting as his bright grey corkscrew barnet. Under the jacket is a white shirt, unbuttoned dangerously low for someone who turns 70 in July. Bohemian chain pendants clatter against nipple as he leans in to say hello. He is very tall — or maybe that’s just the hair — and frightfully easy-going.

Tea is arranged and he briefly excuses himself. I assume he’s gone to use the facilities or take an urgent phone call. But after 20 minutes I look out the window to see him tottering around the back garden taking pictures of his rhododendron. Has he forgotten me? When he finally returns, it’s with a box containing his treasured collection of “stereoscopic” (3D) cameras and some of the original slides he took.

He shows me one of his favourites: a picture of Freddie and the Queen bassist John Deacon on a private plane in 1977. A blonde woman gazes at Freddie from the seat next to him.

“That’s Mary, his long-term girlfriend.” Despite Mercury’s sexuality, Mary Austin was his longest relationship and the woman he called “the love of my life”. “They were still very close right to the end,” May nods. “He took care of Mary in his will.”

We look at another photo of Freddie having his make-up applied before a show. “You just feel he’s so close there, don’t you?” May smiles. “It’s almost painfully real. He was this strange mixture of flamboyance and shyness,” he says, remembering his first impressions of Mercury. “He had already built this image around himself, which was very confident and colourful. He was a rock star long before he made a record. In the old days they would have called him a dandy. And more recently a metrosexual. He was like a peacock, a person who brought his own fantasy to life.”

Mercury was born Farrokh Bulsara in Zanzibar, east Africa, to Indian Parsi parents in 1946. He had already started calling himself Freddie before his family came to England, fleeing the Zanzibar revolution for Feltham in west London when he was 17. May grew up a few miles away in leafy Hampton, a studious only child who would later quit a PhD in astrophysics at Imperial College London to pursue his rock’n’roll dreams. (He eventually completed it 36 years later in 2007, specialising in zodiacal dust.)

May tells me about the day he met Freddie. The guitarist was already in a university band called Smile. One day Smile’s singer unwittingly brought his colourful, outspoken mate from Ealing Art College to watch a rehearsal. “Freddie was full of enthusiasm, really fired up,” May remembers. “He loved watching us. Then, on the other hand, he was: ‘But you’re doing all of this wrong. Why are you just standing there looking at the floor? Why aren’t you giving a show for people?’ ”

Was he angling for the frontman job himself?

“I think so. He was very complimentary to me. He said, ‘You should be my Jimi Hendrix.’ Freddie loved Hendrix, he followed him everywhere, he was like a disciple.”

A band, Queen, was born with Mercury as singer. I had no idea how revolutionary his crowd interaction was until May explains that most audiences going to watch a rock band in the early 1970s would sit on the floor, nodding. “These days groups encourage audience participation, but Freddie asking people to sing along was almost uncool in those days. It was viewed as something that might happen in cabaret. What we did, if you want to be crass about it, is we amalgamated rock with music hall. That’s why we wrote We Are the Champions, We Will Rock You and Radio Ga Ga — it was consciously allowing the audience to be part of the show.”

Then there were the outfits. May’s book features some beauties: early 1970s Freddie in flowing locks and Zandra Rhodes’s white pleated “winged” capes; gay-icon Freddie, barechested in black leather trousers and black leather biker hat; “Mediterranean prawn” Freddie with his porno moustache, bouffant wig and strappy red leotard.

Wasn’t he scared of getting beaten up?

“No, not really. There were times when we went, Fred, are you really going on in that? I think the maroon sequin shorts were close to the edge as far as we were concerned. But he loved to outrage people. We were very much a people’s band. If people stopped us in the street and got excited, it was generally bricklayers or truck drivers. Freddie had an amazing way of being in contact with everyone, making people feel like their inner selves were going to come out. We liberated a lot of people.”

Mercury the daring peacock, May the soft-spoken brainiac … it is hard not to see them as two polar opposites, but May disagrees. “We were all striding around the world being big-time rock stars, but actually we’re quite fragile inside. It’s probably the reason we’re rock stars, because it’s a big compensation thing, playing a loud guitar or strutting around singing. You do it because you want to feel confident, you want to find yourself and achieve your potential.”

It says much about Mercury’s light-sapping charisma that May spent much of his time in the shadow of the singer while he was alive. And it says much about May’s strategic brilliance that he hasn’t subsequently faded into obscurity, but become the figurehead of a band that is now even more successful than it was during Mercury’s lifetime. According to this year’s Rich List, May is worth £125m, while a recent survey named Queen the favourite band among fiftysomethings.

Next year will finally see the release of a long-awaited Freddie Mercury biopic, with Rami Malek playing the singer, and May and Queen’s drummer, Roger Taylor, on board as music producers. We Will Rock You, a musical based on Queen’s hits, ran at the Dominion Theatre for 12 years from 2002. Since 2012, Queen have toured live with the American Idol finalist Adam Lambert singing Mercury’s lines (heresy in my opinion, but apparently Freddie would have loved him). Nothing, though, can eclipse May’s 2002 moment astride the top of Buckingham Palace, playing a guitar solo of God Save the Queen for the jubilee. The roof was his idea; the organisers had initially envisaged him wandering through the state rooms for the performance, but he thought it lacked impact. Perhaps he is more like Freddie than we will ever know.

Absent from any of the post-Mercury Queen activity is the bassist, John Deacon, now said to be a recluse. “I don’t see him at all, no,” says May. “It’s his choice. He doesn’t contact us. John was quite delicate all along. He could be very outgoing and very funny, but I think some of the stuff that happened in Munich gave him a lot of damage, and I think losing Freddie was very hard for him as well. He found that incredibly hard to process, to the point where actually playing with us made it more difficult.”

Munich was where Queen holed up at the end of the 1970s and early 1980s to write and record. Things got out of hand. May coyly refers to it in the book as a period of heavy drinking in a local bar, “living in a fantasy world of vodka and barmaids”.

Today he is more forthright: “We all lost our minds … we were all in a perilous place where our emotions were out of control. It manifested itself in way too much drinking, a certain amount of drugs, which I didn’t share — but certainly an awful lot of vodka went through my body. We all fell to bits. That’s the moment Freddie wrote It’s a Hard Life. If you look at the video, it’s a metaphor. There’s all this wonderful, fanciful clothing and excess of food, wine and debauchery, but Freddie’s saying ‘It’s a hard life’ as the grapes are thrust into his mouth. The Freddie writing that song was actually in a very painful, emotional place.”

It inevitably also had an impact on the band dynamic. “We overreacted with each other at times. We all left the band at some point. The studio’s a hard place for a band anyway, but in our case all four of us as writers had had worldwide hits — and I think that’s unique, I don’t think there’s another band in history where that’s true. You have four writers trying to create the next statement of what we are, so what could that statement be except a fight between the different visions? The lifestyle we led magnified that conflict.” In Deacon’s case, it culminated in “John disappearing to Bali and seeing God or whatever”.

When it comes to legendary Queen decadence, May’s book does its best to brush over the carnage. So let me be the one to remind you: there was the Madison Square Garden aftershow party at which male guests were served by topless waitresses in stockings and heels and female guests by men in nothing but gym shorts (to avoid accusations of sexism). And the champagne bill for Freddie’s 35th birthday in New York in 1981, which is said to have been £30,000. Most outrageous, though, was a 1978 album-release party in New Orleans, involving “a flock of transvestites, fire-eaters, dancing girls, snake charmers and strippers dressed as nuns”, according to Mark Blake’s well-respected Queen biography. The tales of what happened next range from the lurid (naked mud-wrestling, public fornication) to the unprintable, but perhaps the most famous involves a fleet of dwarves carrying platters of cocaine strapped to their heads. Does May remember seeing them?

“We knew a lot of dwarves,” he concedes. “I’m still very friendly with the dwarf community because my wife, Anita, used to do pantomimes. I don’t want to sound big-headed, but I’m pretty big in the dwarf world. I’ve spent many long nights propping up bars with dwarves.”

Of New Orleans, he says: “We chose to launch the album there because it was completely broad-minded. We knew a lot of people on the ‘edge of society’, as you would have called it then. You wouldn’t call it that now, you’d call it LGBTBF or whatever it is now. To that party came all sorts of pretty outrageous performers of every sex — and there are a lot! It was fun, nothing sinister went on at all. Nobody was abused, nobody was taken advantage of.”

Fat Bottomed Girls — I was proud of that song. The nude photoshoot was fun at the time, but I wouldn’t find it amusing now. Attitudes change

He would rather distance himself from some of Queen’s less politically correct japes. “For instance, Fat Bottomed Girls. I am very proud of that song, but as part of the album packaging we had this nude [female] bicycle race for a photo session and it all seemed quite innocent and fun at the time. Now I wouldn’t think that was amusing. Attitudes have changed to lots of things.”

He was far from the hardest-partying member of Queen. He’s never even tried drugs, having decided while still a student that “I want to get to the end of this and know that everything I felt was real”.

His weakness was always “company”. He bemoans his sensitive and emotionally immature nature, which meant he was endlessly trawling the world for “the perfect bond with the perfect partner … the place where you could dissolve with someone to the point where you don’t know where they start and you end.”

Did he ever find it? “No, it’s impossible. I’ve glimpsed it. Various times, various moments. But it’s a wonderful fiction, really.”

Don’t feel too bad for him. While he was searching, his then-wife, Chrissie Mullen, was stuck at home with their three children.

“It was very different in those days. There were no mobile phones and phone calls were incredibly expensive if you were on the other side of the world. There was this feeling that life on the road was this separate bubble from your life back home. Nowadays you can’t even begin to think that because communication is so good. We lived in a time that was very exciting, but lonely because you were cut off. You were exploring the frontiers of what was around you, but also the frontiers of what was inside you. In the same way as people who went to look for the Northwest Passage in the 1950s. It felt a bit like you were an explorer in another universe.”

As justifications for adultery go, I suppose it’s a pretty classy one.

He met his second wife, Anita Dobson — aka Angie, the original Queen Vic landlady from EastEnders — in 1986 at a film premiere, while he was still married to Mullen. He and Dobson wed in 2000. There was much amusement in the early days about them both having the same huge poodle perms — though May’s is the real deal and Dobson has been platinum and straight for some time now. In his book’s acknowledgments, he thanks her for managing to live with “possibly the most infuriating man in Britain for 30 years”.

“I know I’m not easy,” he says. “I’m constantly obsessed with one thing or another — astronomy, stereoscopy, music, saving animals … Living with someone like that is appallingly difficult, so I think she deserves a medal. I’m not going to tell you she’s easy, either. She’s an artist and a fearsomely creative person, so our life has always been turbulent, but I suppose that’s what’s kept us young.”

He has previously spoken about the depression he suffered from in the late 1980s and early 1990s, as he dealt with the fallout from his first marriage breaking down and the deaths of both his father and Mercury. Last year he cancelled a tour due to a mystery “persistent illness”. And on Christmas Day he published an alarming blog on Brian’s Soapbox. “I’ve been going through some radical and painful changes in my life … if you had seen me a few weeks ago, you would’ve wondered if I was going to make it to Christmas,” he wrote, before publishing a “tool kit” of apps, a book and a prayer to help others struggling to cope “physically or mentally or spiritually”.

“I went through a very bad period before Christmas and cancelled everything, not just the tour, everything,” he explains. “I just knew I couldn’t handle it.”

Would he call it depression?

“Strangely enough I prefer not to call it depression now. I’ve recently got very much into the body and mind. All my life I’ve been pathetic at doing exercises. I now have a regime — every morning I do 40 minutes’ exercise, then I finish with meditation. It’s really enabled me to recentre. I feel like I’m in a much better place.”

He is an advocate of mindful meditation — a way of living in the present that he believes Mercury used in the final days of his illness. May is happy to speak openly about his own mental health. “I noticed Prince Harry opened up in a similar way. I’ve always thought it’s nice to be open and I get reinforced in that because I get tons of mail saying the fact that you talked about it has helped me feel like I wasn’t alone and wasn’t a freak. I don’t think all this taboo business is helpful at all.”

I wonder if it might be a better use of his platform than his zealous activism on behalf of badgers, which seems a rather niche concern. In brief, then: he is a fierce campaigner against the policy of culling badgers to try to eradicate bovine TB. It is his scientific belief that the cull isn’t working. But it is muddled by his more deep-seated conviction: “Martin Luther King said we hold it self-evident that every man is born equal. I hold it self-evident that every creature is born equal.”

He can point to numerous childhood traumas that led him to this conclusion: watching his mother pour boiling water over an invasion of ants on the path outside his house; squirting a bumblebee with the pesticide DDT, then recoiling in shame as it dropped to the ground, buzzing to its slow and agonising death. If he hasn’t yet had therapy for the latter, he really should.

The animal fanaticism is odd, because on everything else he seems so calmly rational. Perhaps he learnt some of that composure from Freddie. Despite his pain, Freddie was determined to keep working during the band’s final days together in a recording studio in Montreux.

“What we did was get on with business as usual, which is what Freddie wanted,” May remembers. “He said, ‘I don’t want anything to change. We just do what we always do and we love what we do, so it’s going to be fine.’ Certainly those days towards the end were fabulous, full of laughter and joy, Freddie as wicked as ever. He was incredibly matter-of-fact about everything. ‘Oh darling, I’ll just get on with it.’ There wasn’t any self-pity at all. He wanted a ballad, so I very quickly sketched something in the studio and Freddie liked it. He said, ‘Gimme some words’. It was a question of scribbling a few lines and he’d chuck a couple of vodkas down — because he could hardly stand at that point — ‘Oh darling, I’ll do it now.’ Then he’d prop himself up on the desk and sing the lines. We didn’t quite get to the end. I gave him the last verse and he said, ‘Oh darling, I’m not feeling too good now, so I’ll come back to it. In a couple of days I’ll be fine, we’ll do it then.’ And he never did.”

May finished the song after Mercury’s death. It’s called Mother Love, “an attempt from the two of us to look at life and sum it up, to reconcile the end with the beginning, although we wouldn’t have put it that way.”

What does he think Freddie would be doing now if he were still alive? “I don’t think he’d have the patience for social media, because I hardly do and he was much more impatient than me. I don’t think he would be tweeting, he would probably be still writing his little memos on pieces of paper. He was becoming more and more reclusive towards the end of his life. That was partly because he was becoming more and more visible, but partly not wanting his illness to be public. But he was very private anyway and I think that would have continued.”

He is adamant Mercury would still be creating music. “His creativity would have carried on. He was unstoppable and very lateral-thinking. Always coming up with things that were surprising. Often Roger and I, if we’re creating something for Queen, both of us have said that we feel like he’s in the room and you know what he’d say. You can tell if he would have been scornful or enthusiastic — although of course the whole thing about Freddie was that he wasn’t expected.”

We have touched upon May’s depression, infidelity, the painful death of one of his closest friends and the painful death of a bee. Yet there is one subject so sensitive, I have avoided raising it until the very end. His hair. He hates talking about it, but he must on some level like the attention it brings, otherwise why doesn’t he just cut it off?

“I’m comfortable with it,” he says. “It’s completely real. For a time when it was going grey I got very worried that I had to keep it a certain way or I wouldn’t be me any more. Anita encouraged me not to worry about it.”

Would he ever cut it off?

“If it would achieve world peace, I’d do it tomorrow. If it would stop the badger cull, I’d probably do it tomorrow. Because the badger cull is a worthless, senseless operation, it’s not working and sooner or later our government has to realise …”

The images in May’s new book are not just any photos, but 3D pictures, taken on one of the Queen guitarist’s prized “stereoscopic” cameras.

Alongside music, astronomy and badgers, May is deliriously passionate about 3D photography. He first became hooked, aged 12, when Weetabix gave away free stereoscopic picture cards. He petitioned his parents to send off 1s 6d for the photo viewer so he could see them properly in 3D. “It’s probably about £2.50 by today’s money. But we were poor in those days — £2.50 was a lot of heating and lighting.”

“Stereoscopic” photography was originally a Victorian phenomenon and May’s book is published through the London Stereoscopic Company, a 19th-century business he brought back to life in 2008. He has also designed and prototyped his own stereoscopic photo viewer, the Owl, to see the images in their full, 3D majesty; it comes with the book. “It’s just magic to me,” he says, “when you see a picture of Freddie in the viewer and he springs to life.”

#brian may #queen #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #the angry lizard speaks

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anthonycrowleymoved · 5 years

Text

HAIR SURVEY RESULTS TWO: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

i know this was a long time coming. without further ado, i’m going to show you the final scores. then, if you so choose, you can go in and see my ~further analysis and information~ as well as other details and a comparison of lev’s earlier survey.

SO. here’s how it worked. i had a total of 561 people rank 16 of crowley’s hairstyles. i wanted people to rank the hairstyles to see if the results differed from when people were asked what their favorite overall style was. each person who gave a hairstyle a ranking of 1 contributed 16 points towards that style, 2 contributed 15 points, and so on. this means the lowest possible score a Look™ can get is 561, and the highest is 8976 (16 x 561)

OFFICIAL RANKINGS:

1. 2012 BUN - 7965

2. GOLGOTHA - 7108

3. PRESENT DAY - 7060

4. 2007 HAIR - 6988

5. MESOPOTAMIA - 6820

6. EDEN - 5547

7. 1941 (CHURCH SCENE) - 5406

8. 1967 - 4644

9. 2012 NANNY - 4146

10. BOOK!CROWLEY - 3650

11. 1970s - 3408

12. 33 AD (ROME) - 3040

13. 1601 (SHAKESPEARE) - 2770

14. 541 AD (KNIGHTS) - 2751

15. 1862 - 2708

16. 1793 (FRENCH REVOLUTION) - 2477

DISCUSSION OF OVERALL RESULTS

graphic representation of all of the results, in descending order. as you can see, bun was the runaway lead, with the next four highest scoring looks™ pretty close together. similarly, the shakespeare look, knight look, and sideburn look are all similarly hated.

fig. 2: scores sorted by in-universe order of appearance. i think it’s interesting to look at this and see that there seems to be....sort of a trend. in general people seem to like the very early looks and the very modern looks, with the lowest scoring looks all clumped together.

INDIVIDUAL RESULTS

now, i’d like to discuss the individual breakdown of each look™, to determine how universally it was liked or disliked, or alternately the distribution of votes

eden

eden had an average score of 9.89. people seemed pretty middle of the road on this look, with the occasional person either loving it or hating it. it’s a lot more divisive than a lot of his hairstyles for sure. (me, i personally thought it verged a bit into ‘bad wig’ territory, and i did see a couple people thinking the same)

mesopotamia

i was kind of surprised by this one being as low as it was! obviously it was in that grouping of popular hairstyles, but i feel like the general consensus you read on here is that this is the fan favorite. apparently not so. the average score was 12.16, however, which, not bad. people in general did tend to like this look, obviously, with a few holdouts scattered about

golgotha

fun fact! this is my personal favorite because, the headscarf. my god. iconic. and apparently y’all agree! it eeked out second place with an average score of 12.67

rome

so this is the first. not great look. people don’t seem to be crazy about this one. it had an average score of 5.41

knight look

“oh maggie why is this even here we can’t see his hair” It’s My Survey And I Get To Choose The Looks. but anyway. no one liked this. seriously. this is the first one that didn’t get a single person to give it the top spot. average score was 4.903, which also isn’t great.

1601

look, i know you’re supposed to be unbiased or whatever, but this is a tumblr survey and none of this matters. i hate this look. i hate it so much i often forget it exists out of self preservation. even now as i type this i know if i scroll up i’ll see that terrible facial hair, and i saw it like a minute ago when i uploaded the picture, but i can’t for the life of me remember what it looks like because my brain has put up a protective barrier. you all seem to agree with me, as the average score of this is just 4.94. excellent taste all around

1793

LAST PLACE. i don’t completely. GET. the hatred of this one. i found it to be. very middle of the road. fine i suppose. but the people have spoken with an average score of just 4.42. so what do i know

1862

another one no one said was their favorite. i mean. fair. this one had an average of 4.83, and many people said this was his most heterosexual look, and i agree. bad.

1941

this one seemed to be a bit middle of the road for people, which is kind of understandable. it’s a great hat, but i get that people like the more dramatique™ looks better. had an average score of 9.64, so like. not bad

1967

now this one was ALLLLL over the place. people love it, people hate it, people are indifferent. average score was 8.28, which, again, shows how split this one was. i for one welcome john lennon and joyce byers’ demon lovechild.

1970s

i’m so mad. average score was 6.07. this is my second favorite hairstyle overall. yes, seriously. anyway you all are wrong and that’s all i have to say about that have a good night

1990s

people kept asking me why i included the illustration from the modern cover of the book, and the primary reason was because i thought it would be funny, which is why i do most things. i also was kind of wondering what people would do with it, and the answer is seemingly ‘question why it was there.’ i wish there was a way i could have included ‘your own personal headcanon for what he looked like while reading the book,’ but alas this is as close as i could get. average score was 6.51. the people who gave said this was their favorite are my heroes, and one person described him as looking like an insurance salesman, which like. thank you from the bottom of my heart

2007

yeah. okay. i nicknamed this one ‘cursed’ in my master list. i don’t get it. i’m so sorry. i am like, the singular holdout who just can’t stand this hair. but i am very much in the minority, everyone else seems to love it. average score was 12.46. good for you, 2007 crowley. i will never understand you

2012 (Nanny)

this is the last....not great look. again, a bit all over the place. average score was 7.39.

2012 (Bun)

i LOVE this hairstyle, but i was blown away by how high it was on lev’s poll and i’m blown away again with how high it is here. i just feel like we collectively never talk about how much we love the bun look, and then when we’re asked we go feral. this had an average score of 14.19. how. gender, indeed.

present

ahhh, the classic tennant hair. a solid look. no one really seems to dislike it, it’s just. not everyone’s top spot. there’s nothing offensive about it, clearly, but i don’t think it sets anyone off like some of the other top contenders. and i’m slightly surprised how little we talk about this hairstyle considering how popular it is (and i get it, he looks like every lesbian i’ve ever had a crush on who was painfully out of my league), but again, that might be because it’s Tennant Classic™. average score was 12.58.

LEV DYKEIEL’S RESULTS VERSUS MAGGIE ANTHONYCROWLEY’S RESULTS: A BRIEF ANALYSIS

the main reason i wanted to do this in the first place was to see if the results changed at all from lev’s survey when i asked people to rank their choices rather than just choose their favorite. the answer is actually like, kind of! not majorly, but a bit. the comparison as it stands without the entries that did not appear on both lists:

if you want to see the changes more easily, i’ve done some color coding here:

as you can see, there were definitely some shifts, but what i’d like to focus on is the change in rank of the golgotha hair, the two that came in last place, and the sixties and seventies looks. for the golgotha hair, i suspect that because it was so close to the mesopotamia hair, the vote may have been split a bit, whereas here you could have realistically given both a good score. lev also said that in their results, after the 2012 bun look, 2007, present, and mesopotamia were kind of always in a bit of a tie with each other, whereas this was the case with mine with the addition of the golgotha hair. taking that into consideration i think it’s interesting that that one ended up getting second place.

i also think it’s interesting that france wasn’t in last place on lev’s poll, because there’s such a huge difference in points between the sideburn look and the french revolution look according to my numbers. however, as i said before, no one actually picked sideburns as their favorite on this survey, but there were a couple of people who like, loved the revolution hair. i think that may have ended up giving lev and i slightly different results, as the revolution hair is like ‘you either really love it for some reason (rare) or despise it’ and the 1860s hair is like ‘you either hate it or you’re lukewarm about it’.

similarly, the shift in rank in both the sixties and seventies looks is also interesting, because they both moved kind of significantly. i think the 60s look changed because, as i said, it seemed to be a pretty divisive look. people don’t seem to be agreed on how much they like it, so there are people really Into It who voted it as their favorite on lev’s, but there are also people who HATE IT. i think something sort of similar happened with the 70s look in the opposite direction. i think not many people LOVE it, but a lot of people kind it not to be like, the worst one. as a result it went up a bit because, while few people consider it their favorite (can’t relate), a few people were like ‘okay it’s fun’ and ranked it semi-high, or at least there was more of a distribution than some of the more hated looks. also it’s almost 2 am i hope this analysis makes sense because words. the english language.

ANYWAY THOSE ARE MY RESULTS I KNOW I PROMISED TABLEAU GRAPHICS BUT I FORGOT I NO LONGER HAVE A LICENSE FOR THAT BECAUSE I GRADUATED AND ALSO IT LOOKS FINE WITH THE GOOGLE GRAPHICS AND I DON’T WANT TO MAKE MY LIFE HARDER COOL BYE!

#shut up maggie #text #CAN U SEE ??? WHY THIS TOOK SO LONG #good omens #go #long post #but there should be a read more

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ununniliad · 4 years

Text

Burst Beetle Tweseveny #6: “2007: The Mother of Necessity and a Short Backstory of Time!“

Content warning: suicide, toxic relationships, murder, and just a bunch of depressing stuff! Also, unreality.

<<<*>>>

Tweseveny smiles, watching Time-Waster Lad and Mother Time head down to the LNHQ's cafeteria, and turns to the Time Crapper, rubbing her hands. Time to friendship this motherfucker!

"So," she says, sitting down on the comfy couch next to Time Crapper I - but for now, he's the only Time Crapper she's got, so she'll just call him that! "Can I ask you a few questions, time-travelling net.villain to time-travelling net.villain?" Her disguise is perfect!

"Certainly, but... I figured you'd know all about me, having met me in your past - so you said." The Time Crapper seems just a touch skeptical! Oh shoot! Time to prevaricate!

"Well, uh, it was clear that we'd talked a lot in your past, so I decided to avoid a time paradox by waiting until I met past-you!" Her logic is flawless!!

"...yeah, that's the kind of nonsense I've been running into." The Time Crapper sighs, leaning back, putting his feet up on the coffee table before them. Ooooh, what a villain move! "Ask away, please."

Yesssss. Let's take it back to where this relationship must've started... "How did you get started off as a net.villain? Did it have anything to do with getting the Ring of Retcon?"

"The what, now?" says the Time Crapper, tilting his head a bit. "Uh, no. I..." He taps his arm. "A lot of my past isn't there anymore. When I used the Rung of Revamp... well, anyway. I still remember why I did this. Still remember... her." He looks longingly off towards the doorway Mother Time walked down, and slips into a gentle monologue.

"We met at a physics lecture. Time travel, of course. She was wearing..." His shadowed face seems to show a soft smile. "This mismatched outfit that didn't make any sense, and these glasses that would have looked dowdy on anyone but her... and Lisa Loeb." He chuckles. "And she was even more beautiful than Lisa Loeb."

"Awwww!" Tweseveny claps her hands! Yes good, cute backstory, excellent place to start!

The Time Capper smiles and nods. "Yes... there was a Q&A at the end, and she asked a couple of amazing questions about what was possible. Things I'd never thought of before. And after the lecture was over, I found her, just wanting to mention how good those questions were... And, well, we fell to talking."

"She was so into the idea of time travel. I was into physics because I was good at it, but she talked about all the things she'd do with it, all the things she'd get. And she seemed like the kind of person... the kind of person who deserved them, because she was forward, and powerful, and beautiful."

"Gosh," says Tweseveny, admiringly. Okay, she thinks, that “deserve" thing sounds like it might go in a bit of a Bad direction, but that's exactly what she's here to help with!

"We started talking a lot... I guess I didn't have a whole lot of other people to talk to, it's... hard to remember, really. And I got... enchanted with the idea of making time travel real. She made the idea feel so alive."

"Awwww." This is super swee--

"So I ended up stealing an experimental pinpoint wormhole generator, and the campus's sample of the Sands of the Ancient Days, and using my experimental physics theories, combined them into the Hourglass of wReamThermodynamics."

...okay, so, that's less sweet, thinks Tweseveny. And stealing is bad. But a lot of net.villain backstories are like this, so let's see where this is going.

"And I came to her and offered to show her all of time. And we had a good time, for a while, but..."

"But?" says Tweseveny, folding her hands on her knee in a 'listening' pose. Okay, getting to the meat of the problem!

"She didn't really want to see things, she wanted to have things." He shrugs, putting his hand on the back of his neck. "I loved seeing the pyramids being built, Florence at the height of the Renaissance, Woodstock from the front row. But she's not like me. She doesn't care about the past. She wants tomorrow." He reaches out, into space, closing his fingers. "In her hands."

"So we started doing some crimes, freezing time, stealing stuff, bringing it back to the hotel. Playing tricks on people. Messing with time, even. But..." He shakes his head. "It wasn't enough for her. And we had a fight, and we broke up, and..." He pulls in a huge breath, sighs. "I realized, or felt like I realized, that I'd been wrong. That she deserved all of the things she was asking for, of course."

"Ah, I don't..." That definitely doesn't sound true - but how to say it without sounding like a jerk? Oh lord, thinks Tweseveny, friendshipping villains is harder than I thought!

And it seems that the Time Crapper hasn't noticed the interruption! "I wished I could just go back and undo what I'd said, the mistakes I'd made. Do it right this time. And then, I realized... I could."

"Ah," says Tweseveny. Oh boy, thinks Tweseveny.

"I went back to shortly after we first met, and found myself, and, well..." He sighs. "I absorbed that timeline. And ended up feeling all those painfully strong emotions again, all the desire and need and hope from when we first met."

"Sounds hard," says Tweseveny, hoping that, at the very least, commiseration will help.

"Yeah. It was." His voice is harsh, thick, but he clears his throat and continues. "Anyway, I found her and introduced myself as the Time Taker, and said I wanted her to be my partner in crime. She laughed, looked me over, took a sniff, and said, 'More like the Time Crapper'. And I said, 'Okay, the Time Crapper then.' And, I don't know, she seemed... impressed by how willing I was to go along with what she said?"

"And we started stealing things, and making plans to steal bigger things, and I just kept following her lead. And it was good for a while, and then she was like... hey, I'm in charge here, the Hourglass should be mine." He shrugs. "And, well, I was trying to give her what she wanted, so I gave it to her. She started calling herself Mother Time, and used the Hourglass to get even more powerful temporal devices. And went up against the LNH, and, well, lost." He shakes his head, lost in his thoughts. "And you know, it happens. We'd been keeping under the LNH's radar before, but her new plans were bigger than that, and she wouldn't just take the loss and keep going. She broke into the Brenton Island Nuclear Power Plant, trying to make the Hourglass more powerful... and she took a lethal dose of radiation and died."

Tweseveny grimaced. "Oh, I'm... so sorry."

"Yeah. And..." The Time Crapper's voice wavered, turned husky. "I knew it was my fault. If I hadn't let her charge off alone like that, she wouldn't... she would still have..."

At least Tweseveny knew what to do here - moving over, and wrapping the Time Crapper in a tight hug, ignoring the screams of protest from her nose.

"..." The Time Crapper seems to waver on the edge of some kind of defensive anger, some net.villainous outburst... but instead, releases it, and relaxes into the hug. After a few moments, Tweseveny lets go, and the Crapper sits up. "I was at my worst moment, and contemplated... well. Dark things. I couldn't see a path forward..." He sighs, that deep husky pain flowing out of him. "But, in the end, I managed to pull myself out of it."

"Ohhhh?" queries Tweseveny, hoping...

"Literally. I-- that is, the Time Crapper-- came to me, to whoever I'd been when I wasn't him, and without speaking, gave me the Hourglass, and vanished." The Time Crapper leaned back, contemplatively. "If not for that... I might not have continued."

...oh. Oh no. It's all coming together now in Tweseveny's head; to avoid the pain of loss, he had sucked himself back into this cycle, again and again.

"So I decided to... well, try and help her with those problems," says the Time Crapper. "Proactively."

To fix her, thinks Tweseveny, watching as the narrative took its terrible shape.

"I got some self-help books, read through them, and realized that, you know, of course I'd been enabling her. I figured she needed someone who would push back on her bad habits instead of enabling them."

"Right, and that's a great idea..." says Tweseveny, voice rising cheerfully... and then faltering into, "...and I'm guessing you're gonna tell me how it went wrong."

The Time Crapper chuckles self-deprecatingly. "You're getting it. I showed up, all dramatic, and introduced myself as the Time Crapper. I told her she was destined to be a powerful force in the universe, and that I would be her mentor. I played up the powerful cosmic wisdom thing." He shrugs. "She didn't really buy it, but she went along with it for the power, you know."

"And, well, it worked for a while, we stole a lot of stuff, fought the LNH a few times, I managed to hold her in check... aaaaand..." He lets out a long breath. "And she tried to take the Hourglass and I killed her."

"...I'm so sorry." Tweseveny squeezes his shoulder.

"Yeah, so was I... that was the first time I tried to commit suicide."

Tweseveny winced. "Ah."

"I decided to do the traditional thing and jump off a bridge. The LNH showed up to stop me, of course. All of you..." He breathes harshly, rasping against his lips. "Fucking do-gooders..." He shakes his head, a wave of bitterness passing, and looks at Tweseveny. "Present company excepted, of course."

"Er... of course," says Tweseveny, wishing there was some kind of rock she could crawl under right about now.

"They talked me back from the brink, and I had... some new, stupid idea about how to fix things. And I went back, and did it again, and it failed again. I decided I had been right the first time, decided to jump from something higher. The LNH came in again and I got grief counseling from a kiwi. Got a new idea. Fucked it up again. The LNH came in again, over and over..." He sighs. "I've killed myself so many times. So many selves, and I just kept taking my own place."

Tweseveny stays silent, pinned under the thick layer of pain streaming off the Time Crapper, unable to do anything except Be There and let him vent his trauma.

"Finally, I came up with some kind of ridiculous plan about rebooting the universe and waited for the LNH to get to me again, just so I could have someone to talk to about it. Thankfully, the LNHer who came to talk to me was Cynical Lass."

"Thankfully?" says Tweseveny, grasping at the slender straw of positivity.

"Oh yes. She cut right thru my bullshit, and made me realize - the things wrong with our relationship were things I just couldn't change. They were fundamental things about myself and about Tamela that would make us end in tragedy no matter what parts of the situation I tweaked."

"Ah!" Tweseveny perked up. "That sounds like a very wise thing that's extremely worth listening to. Uh, for a net.hero."

The Time Crapper nods. "Right. That's when I gave up."

Tweseveny smiles! Yes, he'd finally made a breakthru that-- wait. She glances off in the direction Mother Time went. She turns to the Time Crapper. "And then?"

"..well." He rubs the back of his head. "Dismal-Hope Kid was putting me in the holding cells here, and then I appeared to myself again."

Shit.

"I offered myself a source of enormous power. Enough power to change those fundamental things, about myself and about her."

Shit shit shit. "The Rung of Revamp," says Tweseveny.

"Right." The Time Crapper takes a deep breath, and sits up. The weariness and depression seem to fall off of him. Something bigger, older, fills his form. "I took it, and it..." He lets out his breath. "It took away my past. Replaced it. With a connection to entropy. The waste disposal system of the universe."

Holy shit. Cosmic shit. Tweseveny sits up, remembers that she's not just a sympathetic ear, she's a net.hero on a mission. Shiiiiit.

"That's where the smell comes from. It started showing up whenever I used the Hourglass, but now it's become part of who I am. I didn't need the Hourglass anymore - the power was internalized." The Time Crapper looks off again, but not into his own past; into deep space, the fabric of the universe. "I realized how fragile the universe is. That's why I hadn't managed to fix things. Everything is so delicate. People are so delicate. This universe..." He shakes his head. "I don't know how it still exists. How it holds itself together."

"Somehow it does, tho," murmurs Tweseveny. Probably a bad thing for someone who can smash spacetime to be talking about how fragile it is.

"Somehow it does. Maybe it's because of the net.heroes." He shakes his head. "Still... I tried to warn Fourth Wall Lass about all I could see, with my new awareness. She took me seriously, at least. Then I decided to leave the universe to its own devices and focus on Tamela."

"Of course," says Tweseveny. Maybe she can find a new place to help these two from that angle, but God, how's she even supposed to start? "What did you do?"

"I went and I found... the best bits and pieces I could find, from all of the times I've been with her, made an amalgam of those. The Hourglass is holding it together, but it's not stable." He clenches his fist. "If she thought about her memories, she'd realize they don't make sense. But she doesn't care about the past." He looks at Tweseveny, and his gaze is focused, somewhere beneath the shadows. "She wants tomorrow."

Tweseveny swallows. Great, swinging back to megalomania! "And what's tomorrow?"

"...well." The Time Crapper sits back, placing one hand over the other. "Once we get the Rung of Revamp, it will stabilize her timeline, like it did to me - collect her into a new, coherent self."

Oh-- of course. That was the plan all along - use the Rung to "fix" things. Another plan, like the ones he'd already failed with... and he could probably see that, but...

Ugh, thinks Tweseveny. Yes, friendshipping villains is definitely harder than she'd thought. If he's failed so badly at fixing himself, how can she possibly hope to do it?

"Then..." The Time Crapper ponders, gaze still on the superstructure of the universe. "I don't know. Maybe we can evolve past our human flaws, into cosmic entities." He shrugs! "But at least I'll have a version of her that... wants to be around me."

Tweseveny licks her lips. Maybe... maybe she needs to be more blunt! "Time Crapper... may I be blunt?" Okay, a little more.

He snaps out of his reverie, looks at her with that unseen gaze... gives a firm nod. "Absolutely. Seems to be what I need, anyway."

God, what should she say, how should she say it-- just be honest, just open up and say what comes to mind! "Even if you make a verson of her that wants to be with you..." Tweseveny draws a deep breath thru her nose and squares up! "Are you sure you should be with her? Are you sure that-- with everything you could do with this new cosmic power-- that that's what you want!?" She coughs slightly as she gets the earnest plea out.

The Time Crapper looks at her wordlessly for a moment; she can almost feel thick waves of emotion wafting off of him, anger, regret, genuine thought. Then he turns away, his shoulders lowering, his hands on his knees. "I'm not sure, really. You're right. But... after all I've done on this path..." He shakes his head. "Without her, I'm a monster. With her, I'm something. Even if that something is still a monster, for what I make her into."

Hoo boy. Well. That was Tweseveny's last shot. What now?

She wishes she had some way to see what Mother Time was saying. Maybe there's some kind of miscommunication here. Something she needed that he wasn't fulfilling - maybe the reason she wanted to commit crimes in the first place? Maybe. If only...

She feels a little tingle at her belt, and looks down. The little yellow gem on her belt is flashing, and she reaches down and, quietly, presses it...

And suddenly, she isn't in the story anymore. She's reading it - so

rt of. She can see-- feel?-- smell???-- threads of narrative, like

individual pages ripped from a book and taped back together into a

film strip, rolling by the light of her viewpoint and projected ont

o the screen of reality.

Tweseveny reaches out to one of the narrative threads, the one that

tastes like Time-Waster Lad, and starts reading...

<<<*>>>

Author's Note: The versions of the Time Crapper and Mother Time that show up in the Infinite Leadership Crisis and 58.5 are kind of all over the place, often implying mutually exclusive backstories. And honestly? It's more interesting that way - those stories do a lot of fascinating things that don't need to be held back by tying them to a strict canon. But this is my attempt at stitching together Arthur, Rob, and Lalo's interpretations into something coherent. And we're not done stitching yet...

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Drama #Legion of Net.Heroes #Classic LNH #Burst Beetle Tweseveny

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itschimmychimchims · 5 years

Text

Etched – Part 10

♡ jimin x reader

♡ smut, mafia!au

♡ Just kind of plot thickening

♡ Sorry for the long wait!!!!!!!!

—

You find out a terrible secret.

–

—

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, Jimin?” It’s hazy. My voice sounds different.

“I don’t know, I kinda wanna dance.” A black haired boy called Jimin shrugged. He was talking to me.

“But your dad doesn’t like you dancing.”

“I don’t really care about what my dad thinks.” The boy scoffed. His eyelashes touched his cheeks as he blinked. He turned to me. “What about you?”

“I don’t know either.” I seemed to ponder over the question for a while before answering. “I just want my dad to love me a bit more.”

“Why don’t you think he loves you?” The boy asked, his face gentler yet more curious.

“I overheard the other day... he said I wasn’t his daughter-“

Jimin’s face started to blur, and so did my voice. The conversation ebbed away and it was as if I was walking away from the scene - it was now distant from me. But as I walked out of the darkness and back to consciousness, it was as if a lock had been turned. I could piece together my lost memories, as if they’d never been gone.

They flooded my mind, overwhelming me. I remembered everything. The explosion, my parents arguing, me running to school... and me being flung from the car after my mother told me she loved me and she needed me to trust her. The last thing I heard before I closed my eyes was the loud explosion of the car as it sped away. I remembered it all.

I woke up, startled, panting as if I’d ran a whole marathon. I tried to move but I was rooted somehow. My eyes trailed down to my body, and I realized my limbs tightly strapped to a chair with leather straps. The more I struggled, the more they dug into my skin painfully.

“Princess, you’re awake.” I heard a voice from behind me. I craned my neck to look backwards, seeing Jimin bound in a similar fashion. Another rush of emotion consumed me, and my chest ached. I remembered him too. The conversations we had on my rooftop, him sneaking me a sip of whiskey and me absolutely hating it. And the night before my mother died, he had kissed me on that very rooftop and I ran back to my room, heart fluttering.

“Yeah, Jimin, I’m awake.” I responded, my voice hoarse. “Jimin... I- I remember.” Silence greeted me for a few moments before Jimin spoke again.

“What do you remember?” He asked carefully.

“April 14th, 2007, that was the first time you taught me how to ride a bike. I came to you crying again because my dad refused to teach me.” I mumbled. “And April 14th 2009, you kissed me on my rooftop. I ran back to my room not saying a word because I was so nervous. That was the last time I saw you before that day I lost my mother.”

“Oh god, you really do remember. Oh thank god, princess, finally.” Jimin sighed. I could hear he was happy. I was happy but the feeling slowy faded as I remembered our current situation.

“Jimin, where are we?”

“Your father’s base.” Jimin’s voice hardened, and I imagined his jaw clenching as he said it.

“What? But why-“ The sound of a metal door opening interrupted my question. My head looked up to see my dad walking in, a stone cold look on his face. His eyes looked dark and wild with a dangerous whirl of emotion.

“Dad, what the hell is going on?” I struggled against my restraints, demanding for answers. “Why the hell did you restrain me and Jimin?”

“Don’t call me ‘dad’.” He sneered. “You’re not my fucking daughter.” The memory came back to me. I did overhear a conversation between him and my mother - and that’s when he started to distance himself from me.

“Dad...” Tears welled up at my father’s gaze - or the man I’d recognized as my father. It all made sense the more I thought about it. He didn’t care. All those weeks I was kidnapped by Jimin, he didn’t have a reason to save me. It was definitely more dangerous with Jimin. He expected me to die.

“I had my suspicions. The night of the rebel attack, you left early.” Jimin hissed. “You’re colluding with them, aren’t you, Kwon?”

“Doesn’t take an idiot to know that now.” My father scoffed.

“They all have something against you, so it’s convenient for me.”

“Why!” I shouted, filling up with rage and disappointment of being lied to and manipulated. More than anything, I felt more alone than ever. I’d lived a lie for years on end.

“Because your mother was a whore!” Kwon yelled. I’d never seen him so angry that his veins bulged from his neck. His eyes were cold and distant, holding not even a fraction of warmth. “She had an affair with someone in White Mist, and bore you, their child.”

“I’d accepted it at the start, but whoever he was, he reached out and wanted to keep you. How dare he? And your mother hid his identity so fucking well.” Kwon sneered, toying with his gun. “So, fuck it, my hatred for White Mist grew so much. Even my old friend Park hid his identity. So much for loyalty. So I vowed to bring them all down, and I did - or so I thought for a while.”

“Y/N was innocent. She had no part to play in this, she doesn’t deserve to get hurt.” Jimin snarled from behind me.

“She was borne from sin. Disgusting. I could never love a child that is not mine.” Kwon spat and my heart ached, even knowing he wasn’t my father. I’d believed and made excuses all my life to pardon his lack of love - searched for it in meaningless actions - only to be slapped in the face with the harsh reality. My heart ached for a whole different reason once pieces started to click in my head.

“If you orchestrated the takedown of White Mist Clan...” I mumbled in shock quietly. “You were the one that killed mom. You caused the explosion. You almost... killed me.”

“She had exhausted her use. I’d simply instigated the rebels to attack us, so I had reason to end Park by my own hands. I didn’t expect you to survive, though.” Kwon huffed. I was absolutely disgusted.

“You’re a fucking monster.” I hissed.

“I should have killed you from the start.” Kwon spat back at me. “I can’t even look at you.”

Just then, Kwon was interrupted by a loud knock on the door behind him. I could feel Jimin shift behind me; his silence previously was unsettling. The door swung open to reveal a black-haired man whose eyes were darker than night. His lips curved downward, almost as if he was sad.

“Ah, Taehyung.” Kwon greeted gruffly. “I need to get out of here, I can’t stand being in here. Take care of them.”

“Yes sir.” The man called Taehyung responded. His voice somehow complemented his dark outward appearance - as if it was smooth black velvet being pulled across a smooth floor. It was like chocolate and honey was mixed together.

“Taehyung.” Jimin spoke up. His voice was soft and held a lot of emotion. He knew this man. “What are you even doing with this bastard...” The man called Taehyung didn’t answer him, but instead walked over to me. I instinctively tensed up, pushing myself against the chair and restraints.

As he got closer, I noticed he didn’t seem to be pulling out any knives, guns or weapons. I was still on guard though. He bent down to study my face at eye-level - his features contorting in slight confusion. Taehyung was even more alluring up close. His features mimicked a comic book character - almost unreal in their proportions. His dark hair fell a little long over his eyes, making him look older, but up close, he didn’t seem much older than me.

“Taehyung, don’t hurt her.” Jimin said softly. “It’s all on me.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Taehyung finally spoke, breaking out of his reverie. “And neither am I going to hurt you.” I could feel Jimin shift in confusion.

Slipping a knife out of his pocket, Taehyung cut the binding restraints off of my wrists and ankles, and did the same with Jimin’s. When we were free, Jimin quickly sprung into a slightly more defensive position around me.

“What’s the meaning of this, Taehyung?” Jimin asked cautiously.

“She’s... my sister.” Taehyung replied hesitantly, his eyes never once leaving my face. There was a long silence before anyone said anything.

“So you’re the son of the man whom my mother had an affair with?” I murmured, now extremely curious at this turn of events.

“Yes. I was born 2 years before you, and my mother passed away giving birth to me.” His face was still stone cold. “My father had found a new love, and before he died in the crossfire between White Mist and Kwon, he told me I had a sister.”

Taehyung took out a small piece of paper from his pocket and it was a photograph of me and my mother.

“He said I’d need to keep you safe one day because Kwon was dangerous.” He said. “I’ve been actively monitoring Kwon and getting up the ranks all these years, watching you from afar. I’ve never seen your face clearly though, until now.”

“I know it’s rude to disrupt a family reunion but we need to get out of here first, Taehyung.” Jimin interceded. “Do you have a plan?”

“We can catch up later.” Taehyung told me with a small smile. It seemed forced but it seemed he didn’t smile all that often, so I accepted it.

“There’s a small corridor that leads out of the basement and into the sewers. It’s a short walk to the main road, but we need to get past 3 of Kwon’s men first.” Taehyung explained, whipping out a gun for Jimin. “I’ve a cell located in a safehouse so you can contact whoever on your side.”

“Stay here. Me and Taehyung will get rid of the men outside and we’ll come back to get you.” Jimin said, loading the gun. His eyes were filled with a sort of rage I’d never seen before. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before silently heading out with Taehyung.

Time seemed to pass extra slowly as I waited in the musty basement. It had to have taken only 5 minutes tops but it felt like a whole hour had passed before Jimin popped his head through the door again, beckoning for me to follow them. We crept past the now motionless bodies on the ground, following Taehyung into the dark sewerage entrance.

Taehyung was very thorough, checking around each time there were noises and inspecting every turn before moving forward. Jimin constantly looked behind just in case, keeping his hand holding mine the whole way. It was a very long walk before we reached the end of the sewage tunnel.

“I hear people at the end, but I’m not sure if they’re Kwon or Jimin’s men.” Taehyung said, trying to get a good look through the metal vent that separated us from the exit. We were silent for a few moments, letting Jimin try to pick up what they were saying.

“They’re my men.” Jimin finally said. “I recognize the voices.”

“Y/N should go up first to safety.” Taehyung said and Jimin agreed. Jimin gave me a small peck on the cheek before helping me get through the exit tunnel. I was greeted by a few familiar guards’ faces. They were quick in helping me to my feet.

“Ma’am.” They bowed as they draped a small coat over me.

“Thanks boys.” Jimin nodded to his team, then nodded towards Taehyung who gave him a small smile. “Let’s go.”

We drove to a separate and more remote safehouse. Jimin was smart enough to not have revealed it to Kwon. As I saw the house get closer, I put my head on Jimin’s shoulder and felt his thumb reassuringly caress my hand that was in his. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

Jimin had gotten Taehyung settled in quickly and as much as we wanted to catch up, Jimin told me he had to prioritize planning and safety first. Taehyung gave me a pat on the head as he and Jimin followed a group of his men into a big boardroom. I figured I was too tired, both mentally and physically, to join in and listen properly so I looked around the kitchen to make some food.

“Ma’am please, allow us.” The very polite maids tapped my shoulder, smiling as they offered to cook for me. “Please let us know what you would like to eat.”

“Do you have ramen?” I asked gingerly. The best thing to eat after a stressful day had to be ramen (and boy, was that the most stressful day ever).

“Of course. Please wait for it, we will prepare it shortly.”

I thanked them and found myself lying on the couch, completely blacking out from exhaustion.

#bts #bts jimin #park jimin #bts smut #park jimin smut #jimin smut #jimin mafia au #bts mafia au #bangtan #imagine #bts imagine #jimin imagine #park jimin imagine

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mediawhorefics · 5 years

Text

Pre-Workshop Thinking: Writing Advice

Think: What is the most important piece of writing advice you’ve ever received/read?

Bonus prompt: Based on this advice, create a mantra for yourself. Post it somewhere you will see it often, especially when writing. Extra bonus points for sharing a pic of your posted mantra to your blog.

thanks to the @authorsworkshop for the new prompt :)

this..... is going to be very brief for me because i never found any writing advice that has resonated with me/encouraged me more than neil gaiman’s nanowrimo peptalk from 2007. i’ve read and reread it many many times, i’ve quoted it to myself and to others, and it’s been of huge comfort to me when i’m ready to throw the towel and stop writing altogether. so here it is now :

Dear NaNoWriMo Author,

By now you’re probably ready to give up. You’re past that first fine furious rapture when every character and idea is new and entertaining. You’re not yet at the momentous downhill slide to the end, when words and images tumble out of your head sometimes faster than you can get them down on paper. You’re in the middle, a little past the half-way point. The glamour has faded, the magic has gone, your back hurts from all the typing, your family, friends and random email acquaintances have gone from being encouraging or at least accepting to now complaining that they never see you any more—and that even when they do you’re preoccupied and no fun. You don’t know why you started your novel, you no longer remember why you imagined that anyone would want to read it, and you’re pretty sure that even if you finish it it won’t have been worth the time or energy and every time you stop long enough to compare it to the thing that you had in your head when you began—a glittering, brilliant, wonderful novel, in which every word spits fire and burns, a book as good or better than the best book you ever read—it falls so painfully short that you’re pretty sure that it would be a mercy simply to delete the whole thing.

Welcome to the club.

That’s how novels get written.

You write. That’s the hard bit that nobody sees. You write on the good days and you write on the lousy days. Like a shark, you have to keep moving forward or you die. Writing may or may not be your salvation; it might or might not be your destiny. But that does not matter. What matters right now are the words, one after another. Find the next word. Write it down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

A dry-stone wall is a lovely thing when you see it bordering a field in the middle of nowhere but becomes more impressive when you realise that it was built without mortar, that the builder needed to choose each interlocking stone and fit it in. Writing is like building a wall. It’s a continual search for the word that will fit in the text, in your mind, on the page. Plot and character and metaphor and style, all these become secondary to the words. The wall-builder erects her wall one rock at a time until she reaches the far end of the field. If she doesn’t build it it won’t be there. So she looks down at her pile of rocks, picks the one that looks like it will best suit her purpose, and puts it in.

The search for the word gets no easier but nobody else is going to write your novel for you.

The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm—or even arguing with me—she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, “Oh, you’re at that part of the book, are you?”

I was shocked. “You mean I’ve done this before?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “You do this every time you write a novel. But so do all my other clients.”

I didn’t even get to feel unique in my despair.

So I put down the phone and drove down to the coffee house in which I was writing the book, filled my pen and carried on writing.

One word after another.

That’s the only way that novels get written and, short of elves coming in the night and turning your jumbled notes into Chapter Nine, it’s the only way to do it.

So keep on keeping on. Write another word and then another.

Pretty soon you’ll be on the downward slide, and it’s not impossible that soon you’ll be at the end. Good luck…

Neil Gaiman

because at the end of the day, there are a million conflicting schools of thoughts on how to write a good story, how to create characters, how to plot, etc etc and none of them are really more valid than the others. writing/story-telling is such a personal process. we all do it differently and i don’t think there’s really a wrong way. so for me, writing advice that i can take to heart & carry with me, is advice on how to persevere when i’m struggling to remind myself why i’m even doing this yk ? and i think neil nailed it.

#about me #writing #marie talks writing

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 6 years

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SPOILERS for Spider-Man PS4

Can we talk about how the end of this game, how ironic it is, how meta it is and how it just might be signifying we’re moving into a new era for Spider-Man?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay so at the end of the game Aunt May is rapidly dying due to a plague unleashed by Doc Ock, a villain Peter had a direct yet inadvertent hand in creating. Peter beats Doc Ock and gets the single sample of the cure for the plague.

Problem is that with there being just one sample of the cure he has to choose between giving it to Aunt May or handing it over so that more cures can be developed which will take more time than May herself has.

Or in other words Peter has to make a decision between:

a) Aunt May living and thus not having to live with the pain of losing her or the crushing guilt of his hand in that, but at the expense of other people and the greater good

b) Aunt May dying, living with the pain of losing her and the crushing guilt from his hand in that, but he’d have avoided other people suffering and served the greater good.

Does ANY of that maybe sound familiar to anyone?

Guess what?

Peter is sorely tempted and ALMOST gives May the serum. But then in a gut wrenching moment decides otherwise.

So Spider-Man in this game morally and thematically did the OPPOSITE of what he did in One More Day.

Now I know what you’re going to say. That it’s not the same. Nobody’s lives were on the line in OMD except for Aunt May’s and in saving her Peter wasn’t sacrificing anything beyond his personal happiness. He was just choosing to not have his wife anymore and he might even have maybe gotten her back later perhaps?

Nope.

In One More Day Mephisto explains two critically important details.

In making this deal Peter AND Mary Jane’s souls will be in a state of eternal torment. And

Making this deal screws over God

We have to consider this from an in-universe point of view.

In the world Peter inhabits he is fully aware there is an afterlife and even if he wasn’t he and Mary Jane believe in it anyway. He is also fully aware God exists, he met him shortly before OMD as did his friends and allies the Fantastic Four. He is also talking to effectively the Devil which in and of itself confirms the existence of God and btw he’s also met Thor and Ghost Rider.

Which means Peter might not have been sacrificing anyone’s lives, but he is aware that in the world he inhabits he is aware that death is not truly the end of someone’s existence and that there is a higher power of Good and Evil in play here.

And he is choosing to very directly fuck over that higher Good, help the higher objective Evil and put an innocent person, Mary Jane, through a state of suffering. What else do you think ‘torment’ means? It means suffering and this isn’t even a temporary state of suffering like the sick citizens of the PS4 game. They might slowly and painfully die but they will find peace afterwards. In OMD Peter was agreeing to allow Mary Jane to suffer for the rest of her natural life (so at least 50 years if you say she was like 30 and would live until at least 80 years old) and then continue to suffer for literally all of time thereafter.

It might only be one person specifically and directly suffering but if you are going to help someone who’s goal is to maximize suffering across the entire universe and fuck over the counterbalance of Good across the universe you are in effect helping multiple people suffer. Which isn’t even getting into you are causing suffering to the very person you are saving because they’d obviously not want you do do that.

Which is another point in favour of the PS4 game. Before OMD May made it clear she’d at peace with dying and first and foremost wants Peter to be happy and Peter just ignored this due to how HE personally felt. In the PS4 game a noticeably younger and less (you’d think) worldly wise Peter gets a less clear and explicit message from May on her deathbed which amounts to the same thing.

And he chooses differently.

In fact not only does he choose differently but in a 3 month time skip after May’s death it’s clear he’s still sad about it but is getting on with life, he hasn’t been broken in two by the experience. This was partially the ‘moral’ justification for Peter’s decision in OMD.

If May died the guilt would destroy him. Which is saying to the readers ‘Hey do you WANT Spider-Man to be destroyed!’ and/or ‘If Spider-Man is emotionally devastated then he can’t be Spider-Man anymore so more people will get hurt because he wasn’t there!’

And yet in this game a younger Peter, who has had LESS time to deal with Uncle Ben’s death and needs to make a decision regarding the life of a very clearly YOUNGER Aunt May who in fact hasn’t lived a fully long and happy life (Comic book Aunt May had maybe 5 years left in her, PS4 Aunt May had at least 20). And he chooses the harder but mature and morally right one even at great personal cost. Whereas in OMD his decision was easy, immature, immoral and selfish but also at great personal cost.

Then you’ve got the role of MJ in all this. Whilst not involved in his decision in the video game the game ends with Peter and MJ in love and rekindling their relationship, possibly even moving in together.

If the latter is more than a possibility this is important because part of OMD was recontextualizing Peter and MJ’s marriage as (allegedly) fundamentally the same except they were just living together not married. More importantly OMD existed specifically to end their relationship.

If you go by the living together = marriage, then in the game idea then Peter and MJ possibly living together and getting back together in the aftermath of Peter making the opposite choice he did in OMD is a further deconstruction and condemnation of that story.

Honestly it still would be if they aren’t going to be living together.

And all this is highly ironic for two big reasons.

Two of the people involved in the story of this game were Dan Slott and Christos Gage. The latter has written terrible anti PeterxMJ stories (such as Superior Spider-Man #31) and the former has done that too but also publicly defended OMD. Both in terms of it being more creatively enriching and in terms of it being in character and morally justified for Spider-Man.

The game over all is chiefly based upon stories from Brand New Day and Dan Slott’s run all of which directly followed, were facilitated by and attempted to creatively justify One More Day.

The fact that this ending occurred in the game just might be significant in terms of Marvel’s attitude towards the Peter and MJ relationship and their marriage over all.

After all as big as video games were in 2007 (when OMD was published) they are even bigger now, receiving promotional campaigns and fan hype not dissimilar to films or TV shows.

Not only has there already been merchandise produced based upon the game (such as a prequel novel) but Marvel Unlimited, Marvel’s personal online service to read their comic book library, even promoted the game when it was released by providing a reading list of relevant Spider-Man comic books. Although you could equally argue they were capitalizing upon the game and using it to promote their own comics and service.

This equally applies to the fact that the version of Spider-Man from the PS4 game (as of this writing) has and will be featured in comic books published by Marvel and in particular will be a notable player in a Spider-Man crossover event, Spider-Geddon.

So the story directions in this game are not necessarily confined to the game or their specific version of Spider-Man alone. It is one of the most visible versions of Spider-Man and one the general public have and will be interacting with a lot. Arguably even moreso than the MCU film version since in the game audience members literally can be Spider-Man as opposed to just watching him.

All of which means that those story directions could very well be representative of the direction Marvel over all wishes to take Spider-Man in and the message about who and what makes Spider-Man who he is. In this case hypothetically this could be a sign that Marvel as a company might be reorientating to be more accepting of Mary Jane as a character, of her and Peter relationship, of their marriage and maybe just maybe inclined towards restoring it by undoing OMD.

If nothing else this game’s ending, how it frames the Peter/MJ relationship and how it clearly undermines OMD will help to incline the public and therefore Marvel towards that.

#Spider-Man #mjwatsonedit #Mary Jane Watson #Mary Jane Watson Parker #mj watson #aunt may #may parker #One More Day #Spider-Man ps4 #spider-man playstation #insomniac games #Insomniac Spider-Man

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chapters 1-12

by Dan H

Wednesday, 01 August 2007

Dan reviews the final Harry Potter book chapter by painful chapter.~

I really liked the first three Harry Potter books. They were brilliant, engaging, cleverly written, masterfully paced and - as AS Byatt put it - just scary enough. They were genuinely good children's fiction, of the kind that a grown up wouldn't feel too bad about reading in public. Then JKR got famous, and her editors stopped doing their job. And she got sucked into a nightmare whirlwind of publicity. And it went downhill from there. I hate Potter now. Genuinely, vehemently hate it. I hate it precisely because I used to love it, and it angers me no end that the books I enjoyed, about a boy wizard and his boarding-school adventures, have been swallowed by this "phenomenon."

The Harry Potter books aren't "books" any more. They're events. That's why people queue outside a bookshop at midnight to buy a copy, as if somehow starting to read a book an hour later than somebody else makes the reading experience different. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I have a burning desire to exorcise the spirit of Potter from my soul, and I intend to do it by writing a chapter-by-chapter review of the final instalment. There may be some delays while I fling the book across the room. So, without further ado... Chapter One: The Dark Lord Ascending In which Voldemort borrows Lucius Malfoy's wand. I should first take a quick moment to say that his book managed to piss me off before chapter one even started by having a quote from Aeschylus at the start. I mean for fuck's sake, what is this, a 1993 Vampire sourcebook? Anyway, chapter one is called The Dark Lord Ascending although it should more properly be called "The Dark Lord Sitting In A Dining Room And Being A Bit Mean To The Malfoys But Basically Doing Nothing." Fans of the series will of course be intimately familiar with scenes of Voldemort Doing Nothing. He's been at it for three books now. This chapter is particularly full of fine examples of the Dark Lord's sinister aptitude for inactivity. The action - or rather inaction - takes place in the pleasingly alliterative grounds of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort and his wacky minions discuss the progress of their sinister plan to take over the Wizarding World. They bicker about when Harry is going to be moved from his present location, and then they do a lot of exposition about how they are going to take over the Ministry of Magic. This is particularly heavy handed.

"It's a start," said Voldemort. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act. One failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way." "Yes, my Lord - that is true - but you know, as the head of the department of magical law enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact not only with the Minister himself, but also with the heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will, I think, be easy now that we have such a high-ranking official under our control, to subjugate the others, and then we can all work together to bring Scrimgeour down."

Just in case you didn't catch that, they've got control of a man named Thicknesse, got that, Thicknesse, who is head of the department of magical law enforcement, and they are going to use him to get control over all the other ministers, and use that to take down Scrimgeour, and then take control of the ministry of magic. Remember in the first book, where the Philosopher's Stone was barely seen, seldom discussed, and it wasn't until the very end of the book that you actually found out why Lord Voldemort wanted it so badly? Remember how cool and exciting that was. Damn I miss that. While the Death Eaters bicker about whether their dastardly plan which they could have enacted at any time over the past three years is actually going to work or not, we are painfully aware that there is a figure, horribly suspended above the table in the centre of the room. Helpless and silent, we are forced to watch the black-hearted villains discuss their tedious-but-horrific plans, while this figure suffers above us. Imagine, then, how our horror is compounded when we discover that this innocent creature who the Dark Lord torments so casually is none other than ... ... Charity Burbage! You know. Charity Burbage. She taught Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. Remember Muggle Studies? I think Hermione takes it in her third year. Or something. So anyway, she dies. And this makes a Meaningful Statement About The Nature Of Death. Students of literary history will of course recall that up until 2000's Goblet of Fire, there had never been a death in any children's book ever written. The Death Eaters talk some more. They make Nazi salutes (seriously: "in silence, both raised their left arms in a kind of salute") and are racist about Muggles and Mudbloods. Chapter Two: In Memoriam In which Harry gets angry at a Daily Prophet article and shouts "Lies!" For chapter two, we are back following Harry Potter. I confidently predict that we shall never leave his side again. In chapter two, Harry cuts his finger on the mirror that Sirius gave him. Then he reads two articles about Albus Dumbledore. These give us more information than we could possibly want about the plot-dumping old coot. Tragically, it seems fated to be but the tip of a very large Dumbledore-shaped iceberg. And these articles are long. Like really, really long. It's basically like JK Rowling took her fifteen-year old notes about the character of Dumbledore, copy-pasted them into the text, and attributed them to a guy with a silly name. The purpose of this chapter, it seems, is to make us believe that there was more to Dumbledore than we ever expected. He had thought he knew Dumbledore quite well, but ever since reading this obituary he had been forced to recognise that he had barely known him at all. Never once had he imagined Dumbledore's childhood or youth; it was as though he had sprung into being as Harry had known him, venerable and silver-haired and old. Now I'm sorry, but that's just cheating. Dumbledore spends six books being a moderately entertaining but utterly generic White Haired Old Mentor Figure. Harry's belief that Dumbledore had "sprung into being ... venerable and silver-haired and old" is of course literally true. JK Rowling invented him to be a mentor to her protagonist, and at no point does he act like anything else. Dumbledore spends six books as a plot device. Asking us to suddenly see him as a real person is pathetic. She might as well have gone the whole hog and written "Suddenly, Harry realised that JK Rowling was a really brilliant writer, and all her characters were really complex and interesting." Harry packs his bags, and prepares to leave on his Epic Quest To Defeat Voldemort Using The Spells He Learned In His Second Year Duelling Class. Chapter Three: The Dursleys Departing In which the Dursleys Depart, and it's actually quite touching. This chapter, unlike the previous two chapters, is not a waste of good wood pulp. We see Harry being taken away from the Dursleys for the last time, and the Dursleys themselves being taken into hiding so that Voldemort cannot target them. This chapter actually contains something approaching a significant event, and even more rarely, some actual semblance of character development on behalf of the otherwise zero-dimensional Dursley family.

"I don't think you're a waste of space."

It's a touch of the old style. The Dursleys remain, to the end, a rather pathetic caricature of a middle class family (and really, is there any easier target in the world than the middle class suburbanite?) but Dudley's admission that he doesn't entirely hate Harry, and that Harry did in fact save his life, carries a genuine emotional weight. So the Dursleys depart in the company of two utterly forgettable Order of the Phoenix members, and we never hear from them again. From here on in we live forever in the magical world of Hogwarts, where fourteen year olds fight dragons, and Dark Lords are desperate to get teaching gigs. Chapter Four: The Seven Potters In which Harry's mail client goes down. After the Dursleys leave, the Order of the Phoenix show up, and explain that Potter can't escape by magic, because he's still underage, and the "Trace" which detects magic being performed around underage wizards would allow the Ministry to locate him instantly. So instead they decide to go by broomstick / Thestral / flying motorbike, with six "decoy" Potters, created using Polyjuice potion. It all goes a bit tits up. They run into a pack of thirty Death Eaters, who start flinging killing curses at them. Harry responds with the spells he learned in his second year duelling class, and manages to take out about half a dozen of the pursuing Death Eaters with Stupefy and Impedimentia charms, which they are clearly incapable of blocking. Note that since Harry is "still under the Trace," his use of underaged magic should have immediately notified the Ministry to his presence, allowing them to track him trivially. After all, that's why they couldn't just Apparate out of there in the first place. Right? So Harry and the rest of the Order fight the Death Eaters. During this battle, however, the Order of the Phoenix suffers a Terrible Loss.

"Hedwig - Hedwig -" But the owl lay motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage. He could not take it in, and his terror for the others was paramount.

Leaving aside the fact that I've seen better writing on fanfiction.net (I mean really "He could not take it in and his terror for the others was paramount," what the fuck?), I think it's telling that so far the casualties of this most dark and terrible war are a teacher who we never actually saw in a previous book, and Harry's pet owl. But the whole thing is presented in this massively portentous way that says This Is A Significant Event. I'm sorry, but it's an owl. Not only is it an owl, but it's an owl whose sole function is to deliver Harry's post. So they fight the Death Eaters, and one of them gets his cowl knocked off to reveal that he is none other than ... ... ready for this? There's a lot of these big revelations coming up... ... he is none other than Stanley Shunpike! Stanley Shunpike ... the guy off Knight Bus? Yeah, I don't care either. Harry tries to disarm Stan with his trademark Expelliarmus curse, at which point Stan can identify him immediately. This is apparently significant, although since the Ministry is supposed to be able to tell the moment he performs underage magic of any sort anyway, I'm not sure why he's so shocked. Some thing go wrong, and Hagrid flying tackles a Death Eater and gets all badly hurt and stuff. The next chapter is called "Fallen Warrior." But don't worry, Hagrid doesn't die. Because people only die if it won't get in the way of the plot. I wish I'd had JK Rowling to explain death to me when I was a child. Chapter Five: Fallen Warrior In which JK Rowling talks to us about the nature of death. Hagrid doesn't die. He and Harry are taken in by Mr and Mrs Tonks, Harry's tooth (which got knocked out in the previous chapter) is regrown by magic. Harry and Hagrid travel by Portkey to the Burrow. Everybody else shows up one at a time, taking much longer than they needed to. Lupin gives Harry a stern talking to about not trying to disarm his enemies. You see, the Death Eaters don't understand the idea of disarming your opponent. They're far too evil to consider the advantages of being armed when your opponent isn't. Or something.

"Of course not," said Lupin, "but the Death Eaters - frankly most people! - would have expected you to attack back! Expelliarmus is a useful spell, Harry, but the Death Eaters seem to think it is your signature move, and I urge you not to let it become so!"

Essentially this little speech, like the bit about Dumbledore in chapter two, reads a lot like JK Rowling trying to pretend that her weaknesses as a writer are really deliberate character traits. The fact that Harry always uses Expelliarmus in a fight is a limitation of miss Rowling's imagination, her idea of non-evil things to do in a fight is strictly limited. Trying to claim that this is somehow saying something profound about Harry's naivete or his merciful nature is hogwash. Most everybody makes it back in one piece. George (of Fred and George) loses an ear, which apparently can't be cured because it's "Dark Magic". And Mad-Eye-Moody dies. Now, I kinda liked Mad-Eye, but the character I actually liked was Mad-Eye as played by Barty Crouch under the influence of Polyjuice potion. Now admittedly, that character is pretty much identical to the "real" Mad-Eye, but that's rather strong testimony to how poorly developed he actually was. This would all be fair enough, but JK then insists on making it very clear to us that there is Death happening and that Death is a very important part of the book, because it's important that children be told about Death. So we get glorious lines like:

Harry could not quite believe it. Mad-Eye dead; it could not be ... Mad-Eye, so tough, so brave, the consummate survivor ...

And...

Nobody seemed to know what to do. Tonks was crying silently into a hand-kerchief: she had been close to Mad-Eye, Harry knew, his favourite and his protegee at the Ministry of Magic.

And of course the execrable:

The suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a presence.

The first two are just the old show-don't tell problem, which JK never really got over. She's never really worked out how to convey something to her audience without just telling it to them directly. The last line, though, is just completely fucking amateurish. It's up there with "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil." Leaving aside the fact that, yet again, she's attempting to convey the information that the people in the room have been struck by the suddenness and completeness of death by saying "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them" she also seems to think that "was with them like a presence" is anything other than nonsense. I mean, how can something be with you without being like a presence? It's a completely empty simile. It's functionally equivalent to saying "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a thing" or "the suddenness and completeness of death was with them like a thing that was with them." I really hate this book. Chapter Six: The Ghoul In Pyjamas In which we get a plot dump about Horcruxes. In chapter six we have a refreshing change of pace. And by "refreshing" I mean "frustrating" and by "change of pace" I mean "slow to a painful crawl as we watch Harry and co sit around doing nothing for several days." So Bill and Fleur are getting married. We spend an inordinate amount of time talking about this. Mrs Weasley is entirely preoccupied with it. Presumably because she's a woman and therefore doesn't understand important things like war, death, and her son losing an ear. In chapter six, Harry Ron and Hermione explain to each other in great detail the plans they have made for their upcoming battle against Voldemort. So we learn how Hermione mind-raped her parents in order to keep them safe (she cries about this for four seconds, Harry and Ron do not comment). We learn how Ron has dressed up the Weasleys' pet Ghoul in an unconvincing red wig, so that nobody will suspect that he's really out to kill Voldemort. The thing that bugs me about this chapter is that it tries to provide answers to questions which I wouldn't have thought were important until JK drew attention to them. If the book had just been about Messers Potter, Weasley and Granger hunting some Dark Lord ass, I'd be totally onside. Putting this chapter in to "explain" why Voldemort doesn't just capture the Weasleys and torture the hell out of them just highlights how ludicrous it is that he doesn't. Hell, once he's taken over the Ministry of Magic, he could very easily haul in everybody Potter has ever cared about, and start hacking bits off of them until Harry gives himself up. But he doesn't. Because Ron has cunningly disguised a Ghoul as "Ron With a horrible disease and a completely different face". So they'll leave the Weasleys alone. They're considerate, those Death Eaters. The other thing we find out is that Hermione has a copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art, otherwise known as the Big Book of Horcruxes. She proceeds to explain in excruciating detail exactly how Horcruxes work. Because lord knows we wouldn't want anybody reading the book to draw their own conclusions about that sort of thing. That would imply that reading a work of fiction was something other than the process of learning facts about the author's world. We can't have that now can we. Similarly, we get things like:

"I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library ... if he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here." "Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux then, if he'd already read that?" asked Ron. "He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven," said Harry.

Which, let's face it, reads like the Q&A section from JKR's official website. This isn't Harry talking to Ron, this is Rowling talking to her readers. At least, to the sorts of readers who ask that sort of question. The chapter ends with no progress having been made towards finding any of the Horcruxes. Chapter Seven: The Will of Albus Dumbledore In which Ginny kisses Harry Like She Has Never Kissed Him Before Chapter seven is a mystery dump. Harry wakes up shouting "Grigorovitch!" and we are left to wonder what this mysterious name means. It's Harry's birthday. Ron gets him a book about pulling chicks. Ginny kisses him as she has never kissed him before. The Minister for Magic shows up and tells Harry, Ron and Hermione that they have all been left stuff in Dumbledore's will. Then he makes an inept attempt to grill them for information. In Dumbledore's Will, Ron is left the Deluminator (the thing Dumbledore uses at the start of the first book to put out the lights in Privet Drive), Hermione is left a book of fairy tales, and Harry is left the Snitch from his first ever game of Quidditch. And the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, but he's not given that. We are then told that all of these gifts are Very Very Mysterious but that Dumbledore Must Have Had A Plan and therefore it is Important To Work Out What Each Of The Gifts Means. Once again, nothing happens. Ron tells Harry to keep his filthy vacillating hands out of his sister's long, sweet-smelling hair. Team Potter wonders why Dumbledore left them the bunch of crap he left them. And of course they wonder why the irritating old coot didn't tell them what was going on while he was still alive, or give Harry the Sword of Godric Gryffindor when he still had the chance.

"And why couldn't he have just told me?" Harry said quietly. "It was there, it was right there on the wall of his office during all our talks last year! If he wanted me to have it, why didn't he give it to me then?"

Going by previous form, the answer to this all important question about Dumbledore's already spurious motivation probably has something to do with love. Everybody gets ready for the wedding. Because a wedding is exactly what you should be thinking about when a Nazi wizard with no nose is taking over the world. Chapter Eight: The Wedding In which Voldemort takes over the world while Harry is at a wedding. One of the Weasleys marries one of the characters with a stupid accent. Harry is Polyjuiced into a red-headed stepchild so that he can hide amongst the guests. Harry then has to babysit an offensive aunt of the Weasley clan, who says horrible things about everybody. Harry, being a man who has his priorities sorted out, decides that the best use of his time, seeing as how he's destined to destroy the Dark Lord and everything, is to get really obsessive about Dumbledore's family history. To be fair to the kid, it's not like he was going to be able to get anything done at the wedding anyway. So we learn more tedious crap about how Dumbledore's mother was like evil or something, and he had a sister who was a squib. We also learn ... ... get ready for another big revelation ... ... this one's really big ... ... no seriously ... we also learn that the Dumbledores used to live in Godric's Hollow! Doesn't that shed a whole new light on the other books? Can't you just see it all now, how Dumbledore's every glance, every gesture was just screaming "Harry! My family once lived in the same general location as your family!" Truly, we are in the presence of a master storyteller. We also find out that Grigorovitch was a wandmaker, that Voldemort is still evil, and that Voldemort has killed the Minister of Magic and taken control of the Wizarding government.

The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

Okay, I get it. It's punchy. But for the love of all that is holy, we're a hundred and thirty-three pages in, the Death Eaters have finally done something interesting, and we miss it because we're stuck following Harry, who is stuck at a wedding and angsting about his old headmaster. Chapter Nine: A Place To Hide In which Team Potter sits around doing nothing. Potter and his pals flee the wedding and hide out in a greasy spoon cafe, where they are set upon by Dolohov and Thorfin Rowle. Presumably these names mean something to somebody - perhaps to people who have religiously followed JK Rowling's "Wizard of the Month" updates on her website. These two Death Eaters fail to capture the Potterites, which should come as no surprise to anybody. They decide to modify the memories of these two men, in order to cover their escape. Because lord knows a couple of mindless zombies won't attract attention.

"But I've never done a memory charm." "Nor have I," said Hermione, "but I know the theory."

By "but I know the theory" she of course means "I mind-raped my parents into thinking they were completely different people who wanted to move to Australia, and by the way I told you fuckers that - like - two chapters ago and you didn't offer me any support or sympathy." They decide they need somewhere safe, and they decide to go to Grimmauld Place, which is apparently safe because the late, lamented Mad-Eye had set up "protections" there, so that Snape couldn't get in and kill them all (remember that, although JK Rowling told us categorically that Snape was a good guy, we're supposed to ignore this information and keep acting like we think he's a villain). These "protections" turn out to be a tongue-tying curse that lasts for eight seconds (and can't Snape cast spells silently anyway?) and a Spooky Dumbledore Ghost, which goes away once you tell it you aren't Snape. This chapter is mercifully short. Chapter Ten: Kreacher's Tale In which we are told firmly that Sirius black was NOT GAY. Harry pokes around Grimmauld place, finding Sirius' old collection of bikini model posters, photograph of himself at the age of one, and a letter from Lily Potter which basically reads: "Dear Sirius, I'm really glad we aren't going get horribly killed in the next six months. Baby Harry is wonderful and I love him very much. So much that I'll make him immune to dark magic by the sheer loving power of my loving loving love. Love Lily." And of course, the letter ends on this note:

Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore...

The rest of the letter is missing. You fucking hack, JK Rowling. Look, I get it. You've got a bunch of Dumbledore backplot you want to give us. You've told us that. Just give us the plot dump, or don't give us the plot dump. I don't care at this stage. Nothing's going to be as cool as "he was Ron from the future" anyway. Next to Sirius' room is the bedroom of ... ... wait for it ... ... Sirius's brother: Regulus Arcturus Black. It's a good thing that he put his middle name on his door really. And a good thing that no two people in the entire Wizarding world have the same initials. So they've found RAB, but no magic locket of Horcruxness. They ransack the house, then realise that Mundungus probably nicked off with it. Bastard. So they go to Kreacher, and he gives them a bit of backstory which, unusually is genuinely touching. It turns out that crotchety old Kreacher was given to Lord Voldemort by Regulus, and Voldemort used him to "test" the defences around his locket Horcrux, making Kreacher drink the poison so that he could hide the artefact underneath it. Curiously, this led the Dark Lord to believe that his defences were completely secure, instead of the more sensible opinion that his defences could be breached by anybody with access to a tractable house-elf. Anyway, Kreacher was all wrecked by this, and when Regulus found out he turned against Voldemort (possibly the genocide was giving him the willies as well). He got Kreacher to take him back to the cave, drank the poison himself, and gave Kreacher the Horcrux with instructions that he should destroy it. Which is actually kind of sweet, and I'm damned certain Harry and co would never dream of sacrificing themselves for a house-elf. So they decide to be nice to Kreacher, and this gets him onside. They then send Kreacher looking for Mundugus, so they can get the Horcrux back off him. Chapter Eleven: The Bribe In which Harry Potter bravely lets a house-elf do his job for him. Harry Potter, realising that in order to defeat Voldemort he must use the Dark Lord's own methods, however despicable they might be, spends this chapter sitting on his arse doing nothing. Not that Voldemort has anything to fear: he's had decades to practice his sitting-on-his-arse-doing-nothing, and Harry's arse-sitting seems amateurish by comparison. So anyway. Harry sends Kreacher to get Mundungus back, so he can ask for the Horcrux. While he is sitting around waiting, Remus Lupin shows up and acts like an asshole. He informs Harry that Tonks is now pregnant, and therefore he has decided to join Harry on his quest, because werewolves shouldn't be allowed near small children or something. We also find out that Voldemort and his minions have continued their cunning plan to imitate the Nazis and have started making Muggle-Borns "register", and presumably wear little yellow stars as well, because in case you hadn't noticed the Death Eaters are a little bit like the Nazis and Voldemort's desire to wipe out the Muggle-Borns is a little bit like the Holocaust. Clever that, isn't it. Kudos to you JK Rowling. It's about time somebody took a stand against genocide. Anyway, I digress. Remus shows up and acts like an asshole. Harry acts like an asshole back, and they get into this huge "who can be the biggest asshole" competition. This shows us that Harry has "grown up" over the course of the books. We know this because he is now acting like a forty year old novelist thinks a teenager would act, rather than actually displaying any form of personality or motivation. Remus leaves to go back to his "wife and child", but not before giving us another one of the by now familiar "this is why this book totally makes sense and doesn't suck" speeches. When asked (very sensibly) why Voldemort doesn't just come into the open now that he's - y'know - taken over the goddamned world already, Lupin insists that:

"Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: remaining masked has crafted confusion, uncertainty and fear."

Once again, JK drops the "show, don't tell" ball, by having somebody inform us that Voldemort is being clever, when in fact all he's doing is letting Harry slip through his fingers by pulling his punches when he should be rounding people up by the truckload. I mean what, precisely, does Voldemort have to fear from open rebellion? And if he wants to create confusion uncertainty and fear, then I'm sure a couple of senseless massacres could do the same job with fewer administrative overheads. Eventually Kreacher, who is the only person around here still doing his job right, brings Mundungus back, and he reveals that he gave the amulet to Dolores "Wasn't I Killed by Centaurs Already?" Umbridge as a bribe. So Harry is off to the Ministry of magic. Chapter Twelve: Magic is Might In which we get yet another Polyjuice sequence. One thing I'll say for JK Rowling: you've got to respect her plot devices. While nothing will ever top the Room of Requirement for sheer brass-bollocked "yeah, this thing does whatever the hell I need it to" style, Polyjuice potion pulls its weight and then some. So Harry, Ron and Hermione polyjuice themselves into Ministry employees and walk right in through the front door. This reminds us, as if we didn't know already, that the Ministry is run by morons who, despite Polyjuice potion being common enough that an above-average twelve year old can whip up a batch, haven't thought to take any precautions against their members being waylaid and replaced by rebellious seventeen year olds. Perhaps Voldemort couldn't increase security too much on account of his not wanting to "provoke open rebellion." He's just too damned clever for his own good, that Lord Voldemort. This chapter is almost Tolkeinesque in its irrelevance. It essentially chronicles, in painstaking detail, the way in which Team Potter knock out some Ministry officials, polyjuice into them, and walk into the ministry. On their way in they hear terrible things about Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors being put on trial. For a Dark Lord, Voldemort is clearly very concerned about due process. The chapter takes its name from an irrelevant but kinda cool piece of window-dressing. The phrase "Magic is Might" is engraved onto the base of the new (black) statue which has replaced the old frolicking magical creatures motif.

Harry looked more closely and realised that what he had thought were decoratively carved thrones were actually mounds of carved humans: hundreds and hundreds of naked bodies, men, women and children, all with rather stupid, ugly faces, twisted and pressed together to support the weight of the handsomely robed wizards.

Now that's some serious Dark Lord style. But you'd think with his overall agenda of world conquest and crushing the Muggles and the Muggle-born beneath his pallid iron-shod heel, he'd be less concerned about hiding in the shadows. Oh, also in this chapter we find out some more shit about Dumbledore or something. And Snape has been made headmaster of Hogwarts. And Voldemort is still looking for this wand-maker guy. Next: The return of Dolores Umbridge, and more pointless backplot.

Themes: J.K. Rowling, Books, Young Adult / Children

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http://pozorvlak.livejournal.com/ at 20:39 on 2009-02-08

That, my friend, was awesome. You had at least twice as many quotable lines in that piece as JKR managed throughout the entire book.

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Rami at 06:53 on 2009-02-09

Welcome to Dan's Fans -- meetings are every Saturday at 11... ;-)

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Arthur B at 09:16 on 2009-02-09

You realise, of course, that there's only one way this can end: sooner or later someone, somewhere, is going to write Harry Potter fanfic where Dan is a character. (He could teach all the kids physics and he could be in a big snark feud with Snape and Snape will challenge him to a duel and Harry will be all GO DAN SHOW THAT MEANY WHO'S BOSS and Hermione will be all OH WOW PHYSICS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN MAGIC I AM TOTALLY A SCIENCE NERD NOW and Ron is all MAN IF I WERE GROWN UP I WOULD TOTALLY SMOOCH DAN RIGHT NOW and Dumbledore is all MAN IF EVERYONE I KISSED DIDN'T TURN INTO HITLER I WOULD TOTALLY SMOOCH DAN RIGHT NOW and Dan beats Snape in duel with science and Snape is all I WAS WRONG TO SAY SCIENCE IS LAME YOU SHOULD STAY HERE AT HOGWARTS AND TEACH US ALL THE WAY OF THE MUGGLES and Dan is all like NO WAY THE KIDS OF ALL NATIONS NEED ME and he turns around and punches Voldemort in the jaw so hard his head comes off and then he takes off and flies away to the Moooooooooooooon....)

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Wardog at 10:54 on 2009-02-09

But Dan doesn't have long dark hair, skin like freshly poured cream and violet eyes....

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Arthur B at 11:03 on 2009-02-09

Aaaand there's my cue to post a link to the Sparklypoo comic.

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https://me.yahoo.com/a/tjLTVHEducFb4rKDHU5DukBHtQcCbTVMEEq55v0CxV4-#5e156 at 19:43 on 2009-07-29

Brilliant, absolutely hilarious, I want to show the rest of the Harry Potter fanbase your review. I wonder if my inertia could ever be on a par with Voldemort's. "My inertia is with me like something that is with me."

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http://lunabell14.myopenid.com/ at 22:50 on 2010-07-27

I wonder if cutting out all of that unnecessary Dumbledore backstory would've helped the pacing, or at least cut down some of the reading. Seriously, even when it was first introduced, I couldn't help but think "Why are you telling us about this? How will this help with Harry's quest, at all?" And every time it was brought up, it just continued to irritate me. I honestly don't understand why her editors didn't insist she cut it out.

#Ferretbrain #Harry Potter #J.K. Rowling #Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows #Dan H

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theletterspage · 5 years

Text

Max Porter, our Bath correspondent, in conversation with The Letters Page

(Illustration: Natasha Nayee)

The arrival of Max Porter’s letter for The Letters Page, Vol 3, was one of the highlights of our editorial year, featuring as it did a correspondence with John Berger and an enthusiastic endorsement of fraternal hugs. We caught up with him again recently, and asked him to tell us about his new book; he told us about much more besides.

Words by Kyle Brown, MA student in Creative Writing at the University of Nottingham. Illustration by Natasha Nayee, BA student in English at the University of Nottingham and Artist-in-Residence with The Letters Page.

‘Sorry for any typos, I was writing while being shouted at by small children,’ Max Porter tells me, via email, shortly after sending a charitably detailed response to my interview questions, with, I must note, no typos.

He immediately strikes me as intelligent, passionate, and modest, especially regarding his 2015 breakthrough debut novel, Grief is the Thing with Feathers, for which he received the International Dylan Thomas Prize and The Sunday Times/PFD Young Writer of the Year Award, as well as being short-listed for The Guardian First Book Award and the Goldsmiths Prize. The novel tells a story of grief and recovery, following the character of Dad – a Ted Hughes scholar in mourning – his two sons, and Crow, who appears one day to offer his own unique brand of therapy, combining a Mary Poppins-like job description with several other literary devices: ‘[Crow is] kids’ books and joke books and fables and all the good stuff smashed together, and up he flies.’ Like Crow, the form and structure of Porter’s book is also an amalgamation of fable, family drama, poem, folklore, and much more, combining traditional storytelling with contemporary approaches to form in literature. Porter describes the novel as ‘a love letter to the hybrid form.’

There is also something particularly English about the book. Perhaps the relationship between Dad and his sons, the latter based on himself and his brother, and his own sons. Perhaps it is Dad’s introverted nature in handling sensitive issues. Or perhaps it is Crow: foul-mouthed, nanny, healer, trickster, demon-slayer, baby-sitter, crow, with his glib but highly caring attachment to Dad and his sons. Crow is by-and-large, one of the most interesting characters I have ever read. However, Porter merely agrees that the book is English: ‘painfully so, I think.’

Born in 1981, in High Wycombe, Max Porter lived and worked in London for many years, before moving to Bath with his wife and three children. His introduction into the literary world was not traditional. He studied a bachelor’s degree in Art History at Courtauld Institute of Art, London, which he called, ‘a very strange place,’ and remarked that he wasn’t especially happy at this time. This changed once he started his master’s degree, in Psychoanalysis and Feminism: ‘I wrote about a very Crow-like performance artist called Paul McCarthy, and that was a brilliant year. My mind was blown time and time again by some of the books I found in that library.’

Perhaps this was the moment of birth for Porter’s love of books and literature, as although it wasn’t until his mid-thirties that Grief is the Thing with Feathers was published, he has spent his career around books and literature, holding more behind-the-scenes roles. Initially, working in a bookshop, opening two branches of Daunt Books in London. ‘I loved it. Bookselling is wonderful. I met great people and read a lot. I read insane amounts.’

After ‘doing some reading for publishers’ and ‘sitting on a few panels about translated literature,’ he applied for the role of editorial director for Granta Books and Portobello Books, joining the team in 2012. ‘They took a punt on me,’ he tells me, adding, ‘Bookselling is good training for publishing. Both jobs are about the hand-sell.’

It was during this time that the foundations for his first novel began to take form. He would write poems and bits of prose, create drawings and music – both of which he says are part of his creative process and influential to him. ‘I was always writing, but with no serious intent. I’d started a few fables, some short pieces about siblings and memory. Doing it for love, and for fun. When I landed on the structure for Grief, I knew it was something I was taking more seriously, something I’d probably want to show people.’ He developed the smaller ideas into longer work, while working during the days and being a parent the rest of the time: ‘This was all in the evenings, after work, and when the kids were in bed; sort of a secret project.’ He tells me he didn’t think about it being published while he was writing; how to a large degree it was still for the love and enjoyment of the craft, as well as a calming distraction from his more editorial work.

After publication, the book had almost instant success, which Porter took in what I imagine to be his usual cool and considered manner: ‘Praise is tricky, and not always good to listen to. You have to take it with a pinch of salt. Just as you would hostility.’

In addition to its initial success, the novel was adapted for theatre in 2018 by Irish playwright, Enda Walsh, (Once, 2012 – after the 2007 award-winning film; Lazarus, 2016 – music and lyrics by David Bowie) for the London theatre company, Complicité, and starring Cillian Murphy (Peaky Blinders, The Dark Knight Trilogy) as Dad.

‘I loved Enda’s adaptation. He just used the text as it is, which was very flattering. And he made some lovely and profoundly well-thought-through decisions about how to portray Dad and Crow. It was a very interesting experience for me. They welcomed me in, they used my ideas, we played and fiddled with the piece and I think the result is amazing. Different to the book but singing the same song.’

2018 also brought the announcement of his second novel as well as the end to his stint at Granta and Portobello Books, stating, ‘It’s become too much for me, hence my leaving this year. It’s very hard to focus, to dig deep and grow as a writer, when you’re juggling dozens of other people’s books, and the thousands of accompanying emails.’ But the writer still has great affection for the publishing world, telling of his appreciation for the ‘joy of being in the middle of it all,’ aiding writings, seeing the entire process through; covers, bindings, the finishes. ‘The day to day making of books, I’ll miss that.’

Porter’s second novel, Lanny, is an extension of his debut’s love letter to the hybrid form. ‘It’s got some characteristics in common with Grief; a mythic character, short sections, some prose poetry, conventional narrative removed/redacted, etc. but it’s got much more of a story, and some pace, even some plot!’

Set in a small village sixty miles outside London, the novel tells the tale of an urban legend told by the local school children, known as ‘Dead Papa Toothwort,’ and his mysterious interest in the mischievous and enchanting boy of a family new to the village.

If Grief is the Thing with Feathers addresses, well, grief, Lanny proposes a balm to perhaps one of the aptest of issues, our contemporary political angst. ‘We’ve all been run by maniacs. Time trundles on, and none of us survive it.’ It is in this subject that Porter’s timely binding of the historic and the contemporary finds its perfect companion - ‘I’m obsessed with the past.’ Having a great appreciation for the radical Olde English poets, the fables, the great dramas, and folklore; Porter believes that, as an individual and a society, we can’t have any healthy forward progression until we have learnt to properly appreciate what has come before us. ‘In folklore we find our richest, most radical heritage, and our best nature.’

So, what does the future hold for Max Porter? I doubt he will go without interests to stimulate his creativity, and knowing his career history, his love of literature and literary publishing could lead him down any number of paths. ‘I guess I’ll be working in and around publishing in some form. I’m keen to do more literacy and outreach. I’m sitting on boards and that sort of thing, so, I’ll see how the new book goes and play it by ear.’ Needless to say, I believe this author has a fruitful future ahead of him, and I am excited to see where his ambitious, form and genre merging ideas, so rich in emotion and life, will lead him next.

Max Porter’s letter appears in The Letters Page, Vol 3, which is still just about available to purchase here.

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somekind0fmagic · 4 years

Text

Chapter 6. Happy New Year

I do not own Harry Potter or the characters created by Rowling

So, I know in the first chapter I said that Anneliese has black hair, I actually meant to change that before I posted it, but I can be really forgetful. She actually had her hair dyed a reddish brown and by the beginning of Christmas break her hair was down to her shoulders and flipped out, kinda like Tracy’s hair from Hairspray (the 2007 version), and the hair dye had faded out into her natural light brown hair.

Plus, I wanted there to be a little bit of stuff from others POV, I was mostly doing a 3rd person with Albus, but I’m throwing some other people in there. It will be important for later dates

( Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 )

Chapter 6. Happy New Year

Albus sat on the couch in the living room. It was the 31st and he was waiting for Scorpius and Anneliese to arrive. He sighed as he flipped through the pages of the comic his aunt had gotten him. She tried to talk to him about Rose when she gave it to him, but he got out of the talk by claiming he was needed somewhere else.

He heard the roar of the fireplace and he looked up, he saw the dirty blonde hair of his friend appear. Albus sat the book down and stood up, “Hey Scorp!”

Scorpius smiled and stepped out of the fire, “Hey Al, how’re you doing?”

“Good, you?”

“Same, so are we just waiting for A?”

“No, no you are not.”

“Oh my god.” Albus gaped at Anneliese. “Your hair!”

Her hand instinctively raised up to her hair. “Oh, yeah, asked my aunt to cut and dye it. You don’t like it do you?” The smile on her face fell slowly.

“No, I like it, it’s cute. It’s...you!” She smiled again, “Honestly, not many people can rock half shaved hair, but you look good with it.”

Scorpius nodded, “He’s right, it suits you.”

“Good because I like it.” She looked around, “What room are we in?”

“Our living room, c’mon, let me show you my room.” They followed Albus out of the room and up the stairs. He stopped when he reached the door. “So, my sister, Lily, will be home in, maybe an hour or two. That’s her room, she said that you can stay in there if you feel more comfortable, mum also said you guys can stay in the extra rooms as well.” He opened the door and let them in, “It’s not much, but it’s comfortable.”

“I like it, but it’s just so….” Scorpius started, but he couldn’t seem to find the right word.

“Gryffindor.” Anneliese stated easily, “So not you.”

Albus shrugged, “It’s been like this my whole life, I never really noticed or cared. Maybe I'll ask mum and dad if I can repaint it over the summer”

“It's up to you, and I'm not surprised that you never noticed, you never notice anything.” She walked over to his desk and picked up the radio, “I have one of these.” She turned back to Albus, “My mum always has been interested in Muggle things, anything that can play music she has fallen in love with. I have one in my room.”

Albus nodded, “There’s more muggle technology downstairs if you’d like to see.” They walked out of his room and back down the stairs. \

----------------------------------------

“I don’t understand muggle sports.”

“I don’t understand sports in general so I beat you. Well, that is unless you count dancing, gymnastics, ice skating, or ice skating a sport, then I understand it.”

Albus shook his head at his two friends, “Of course that’s all you understand L.”

She shrugged, “They’re less dangerous and make more sense then Quidditch, Futball, Soccer, Tennis, and other sports.”

Everyone jumped when they heard the front door slam. “Lily?! Is it you?!”

Soon later Lily came into the room, her face was red from running in the cold, tear marks stained her face. She ran over to Albus and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. “I hate her.”

“Who Lils?”

“Maria.”

“What happened?”

She sniffed, “She made fun of the fact that you and James go to Hogwarts, but since she believes it’s just a fancy private school, she said that it’s probably a centre for troubled youth and called you strange and then called me weird!”

“Oh Lily,” He murmured.

“Then she told me I look horrible and then said things about daddy’s scar and I wanted to tell her why he had it but she wouldn’t stop talking and making fun of me!”

“Lily, I’m so sorry that she did that to you...well, if it’ll make you feel any better, you can hang out with me and my friends. I’m sure they’ll be okay with it,” He looked over at his two friends, “Won’t you?”

Scorpius just nodded and Anneliese spoke, “Of course! Now I won’t feel alone as being a female!” Making everyone laugh, she walked over to Lily, “Us girls gotta stick together,” She held her hand out to Lily, “I’m Anneliese.”

Lily smiled, “I’m Lily!”

“What a pretty name.”

“I was named after my grandmother! Hey, do you know the muggle movie Barbie: Princess and the Pauper?”

“Of course! I babysit some of the little kids in the town near where I live and I’ve seen it about a dozen times! Wanna hear something cool?” Lily nodded, “My middle name is Erika. The movie came out the year before I was born and my mom has joked about saying that was why she named me that when in actuality she named me after her grandmother, my great-grandmother, and her brother, my uncle, his name was Erik.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!”

She nodded softly, Scorpius walked over to Lily, “I’m Scorpius.”

Lily shyly smiled, the blush that came to her face was only noticed by Anneliese. “Hi.”

Anneliese smirked and held back a small laugh. Little Lily had a crush and it was painfully obvious to the elder girl.

----------------------------------------

Everyone was getting their pajamas on before they were walking downstairs to watch the countdown for the next year. Albus and Scorpius were sharing Albus’s room while Lily and Anneliese were sharing Lily’s room (mostly because Lily begged for Anneliese to be with her). Anneliese was slipping a shirt on while Lily was reading a magazine. “Anneliese?” The other girl looked at her, “How...how is Albus doing?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, I just overheard my family talking on Christmas Eve night. Uncle Ron was saying things about Al being in Slytherin. I don’t get why he hates them so much, what did they do wrong?”

The black haired girl sat across from the small redhead. “How much do you know about the Wizarding Wars?”

“I know that many died and that it was a terrible event, why is that important?”

“Just wait, do you know what Voldemort’s followers were called?”

She nodded and Anneliese motioned for her to say, “Death Eaters.”

“Good, well, the majority of them were from Slytherin house. It’s a stereotype that all Slytherins are evil. I bet he’s upset because Al befriended a Malfoy, the Malfoy’s were big Voldemort supporters. Lucius Malfoy went to jail because of it. Draco Malfoy was tasked to kill Dumbledore, but he didn’t. But, Narcissa Malfoy, she saved your dads’ life. She lied to Voldemort and said he was dead, just because he told her that her son, Draco, was alive and okay.”

“But just because they were like that then doesn’t mean they still are.”

“I know, but some people can’t see past that.”

She sighed, “I’m happy that Al met you two, he seems happier than he was before he left.”

Anneliese smiled softly, “I know, even on the train, he seemed miserable.” Then she sighed, “Has he always had a bad relationship with James?”

She nodded, “Yeah, they always fought. Never did it physical like it does now though. When mum and dad were talking about it when they started to happen-”

“Wait, physically? I just knew of their verbal fights, never did I know they got physical.”

Lily nodded, “Yeah, a few weeks ago James broke Albus’s nose even, apparently, according to James, that was because Albus ‘attacked’ Rose. I know she attacked him first, he was only defending himself.”

Anneliese let out a breath, “Huh, I never knew, Al just said that he ran into a wall in the dungeons, which isn’t surprising because well, it’s Al.”

Lily laughed, “Omg, we have a treehouse in the backyard and when we were little he fell out of it while trying to climb out and broke his arm. He also broke his leg from falling down the stairs.”

Anneliese began to laugh, “Why can I see that happening?”

Lily just shrugged her shoulders and died her laughing down. “What time is it?”

Looking at her watch she immediately bolted up, “11:58!”

Lily’s eyes widened and they both ran out of her room. They ran down the stairs, almost tripping on the way down. Making it into the room just as the 30 second countdown started. “You guys almost missed it.”

They rolled their eyes and Anneliese swatted at Albus’ arm. The 10 second countdown started and they all counted down. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1, Harry and Ginny shared a kissed, along with Victoire and Teddy, who decided to come over a few hours back. “A year closer to going to Hogwarts.” Anneliese heard Lily say softly while she heard Albus and Scorpius mutter, “A year closer to graduating.” She just rolled her eyes and the boys and gave Lily a side hug.

----------------------------------------

It was the next morning. Albus was laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Reflecting on his last year. Getting accepted into Hogwarts, meeting the two best people, being put in Slytherin, his family hating him just because of his house. Sure, not all of it was fun, but the majority of it was.

There was a knock at his door and then it opened, “Albus? Are you and Scorpius up?” He sat up when Ginny asked the question, “Okay, well, if Scorpius isn’t up, then maybe wake him up in about 30 minutes. I’m making breakfast. Lily and Anneliese are downstairs playing Wizards Chess and James left about an hour ago.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s 10 am sweetheart.” Albus nodded and she left the room. He crawled over his bed and shook Scorpius’ shoulder.

“Dude, wake up, moms making breakfast.”

Scorpius shot up, “Food?”

Albus laughed at his friend. His dirty blonde hair was sticking out everywhere. “Yes, food. It’s 10 am. Apparently James left and the girls are downstairs.”

Scorpius scratched the back of his head, “We probably should get down there then, should we?”

Albus shrugged, “It’s up to you man.”

He got up and off the blow-up mattress, “Then let’s go.”

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It had been two hours since his friends left. He and Lily were playing a muggle game called Go Fish. That was until James’ voice appeared, “Are you done investing the house with snakes?”

Albus rolled his eyes, “Are you done being a dumbass?”

“Y’know, mum and dad are fighting with our family because of you. Did you know that? I overheard mum and Aunt Hermione complaining about dad and Uncle Ron fighting over your house.”

“Well at least I don’t pick fights with people who don’t do anything. 3s?”

“Go fish. 7s?”

“Are you just going to ignore me?”

“Actually, I’m being factual, something you don’t understand. Here.”

Before James could continue Ginny walked in, “Is everything alright?” She looked at Lily, “Lily?”

“Oh, James was just saying some stuff to Albus, but yeah, everything's fine.” Ginny nodded and left the room. “Y’know James, would it hurt you to be nice for once in your life?”

“Would it hurt you to take my side for once?”

“I take the side of those who are right and don’t deserve to get shit said to them.” Instead of continuing to argue, he stormed out of the room. “Baby.” Lily looked up at Albus, “You okay?”

He nodded, scared to use his words. Scared that if he did, he would cry.

#harry potter #harry potter next generation #harry potter next gen fic #albus potter #scorpius malfoy

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